The Copper Promise - Part Two - Children of the Fog
By: Wydrin Williams 178
21
The people were screaming.
Rusl moved as though he were in a dream. His body fell into the old patterns, the routines he'd spent years learning; they were a part of him now, so entrenched he barely had to think. He parried a blow there, took out a man's ankle in one low stroke, felt the bones there shatter, and caught another guard under the chin with the back swing. There was blood, and screaming, and the scent of scorched flesh. It was here, and it was real.
She is not here, he told himself firmly, but a cold hand seized his heart and panic started to build. She is not here.
The swarming guards were falling back now, parting to let some newcomers through. The two men from the dais came forward, drawing their weapons. Rusl pushed his rising fear aside and tried to concentrate on these two, because these two were clearly very different from the poorly trained men that had fallen to his sword so easily. One had drawn a pair of exotic-looking swords – long straight blades with edges that looked sharp enough to slice bone – and the other carried the bullwhip that killed Jakamar, still red with his blood.
"Pair of posers," muttered Malon next to him.
As he watched, the dull grey metal of their gauntlets began to glow with a soft, orange light, tracing shapes that had previously been invisible. Rusl blinked a few times, sure it must be a trick of the light, but the glow only intensified. It grew so bright that they were difficult to look at, and then through squinting eyes Rusl saw the twins double, so that there were four purple haired men approaching. He shook his head, absolutely convinced for a bare second that his vision had failed him, but when he looked again they were still there; four men where there had been two, a pair with swords, and a pair with whips.
"What is this now?"
Rusl glanced at Malon, whose face was rigid with shock, and then the men were on them.
Malon had perhaps a handful of seconds to process what had happened before she found herself dodging a shining blade as it whistled past her ear. She moved, smooth as silk, light as foam, and brought Frostling up and round to bury it in the purple haired man's head, but her dagger passed straight through him and out the other side just as though he were made of mist. He grinned at her, his teeth very neat and white next to his pink lips.
"I am Zant, little girl. I shall enjoy playing with you."
Malon glanced over to Rusl to see his own sword passing through another of the blond men. The Children of the Fog, Rutela had called them.
"They're not really there!" she called to Rusl and Link. "They're just made of vapour. Ignore them and go for the big man!"
The words were barely out of her mouth before the purple haired man called Vaati flicked the bullwhip at Link, the end of the lash catching the young lord across the top of his forehead. In an instant the green flames that surrounded him winked out of existence and he was thrown to the floor, a bloody gash staining his blond hair crimson.
"Forget I said that!"
She jumped back to avoid another strike from Zant's blades only for the end of the whip to grab her arm in a viper's embrace. Even through her leather armour she could feel the burning points of metal digging into her skin. Ashes dropped from her fingers and she could do nothing but watch with horror as the dagger skittered across the cobbles away from her. There was a sharp tug and she was off her feet and on her knees, being dragged towards the grinning form of Vaati. Rusl came at him, the long sword flying in a deadly silver arc, but Zant moved in front and met the giant blade with two of his own. Another tug, and Malon could see blood seeping up through the torn leather.
"Some more of that green fire wouldn't go amiss, princeling!" Malon pressed the edge of her remaining dagger against the whip and was dismayed to find it barely made a mark on it.
"Demise enjoys your suffering!" called Ganondorf from his space between the stalls. He was wearing his black helm now and that was glowing too, with the same strange markings as those adorning the gauntlets of Vaati and Zant, but there was still only one of him. What does it do? Malon sensed this was an important question if they wished to survive the next few moments. Ganondorf hadn't even drawn a weapon.
She turned back to see Link picking himself up from the floor, his face a sheet of blood, and Rusl working hard to keep back the two identical men, the muscles in his neck and shoulders bunched like grapefruits. As she watched, his sword passed harmlessly through the body of one of the Fog Chidren, only to meet the solidity of the sword with a discordant crash.
"Bring them in, that's it," Ganondorf was bellowing now. Distantly Malon could hear shouts from the crowd, but whether it was encouragement or mockery she couldn't tell. "Keep the girl alive too and we'll have some entertainment tonight." Ignoring the agony in her arm, Malon pulled back on the whip and forced herself to her feet. She raised her dagger, preparing an over-arm throw she hoped would find Ganondorf in his thick chest and split his rotten heart, when suddenly the young man from the crowd with the untidy hair was in front of her. He winked.
"What are you …?"
He produced a strange knife from an inner pocket; it was clear and sparkled as if made of crystal. The young man pressed it against the whip and it snapped almost instantly. Malon staggered back and he caught hold of her hand.
"We must run now," he said. He had an accent she couldn't place. "If you and your friends wish to live, keep with me."
"Sounds good," said Malon.
She snatched Ashes up from the cobblestones and shouted at her companions; Link and Rusl followed readily enough, but so did the two identical men, whooping and howling as they came. The crowd parted for them and the young man led them deep into it, amongst the stalls and boxes, turning wildly here and there. All the time he kept Malon's hand in a vice-like grip, which normally would have annoyed her, but she was afraid that if she pulled free she would lose him instantly in the swarms of townspeople. There was a clatter of wood against wood and she realised the guards on the walls were loosing their longbows, and only the shelter of the stalls protected them.
"Where are we going?"
"Keep close, little cat! Run where I run!"
They passed a cart filled with a towering heap full of mouldering pumpkins. There was a shout, and suddenly the pumpkins were tumbling from the cart onto the ground, directly into the path of the pursuing guards. Malon glanced over her shoulder just in time to see Rutela back there behind the cart, her long thin face pinched in triumph, and the young man tugged her another way, moving towards the back of the market. The rolling root vegetables gained them a few seconds, enough to get out of sight of the Children of the Fog.
"Who are you?" said Malon, between gasps.
"My name is Groose." He did not turn to look back at her, instead dragging her towards a ramshackle stone building across from the main bustle of the market. A pile of old leaves had collected in the doorway and the small windows were broken. "Are your friends still with us?"
"We are," said Link. His hair was stuck to his forehead with blood. Rusl looked sickly and distracted. "What is going on?"
He gave a brief bow, and swung open the door.
"No time to talk. Inside now."
"How do we know this isn't a trap?" asked Link, but he followed them in just the same. Inside they could just make out an altar surrounded by broken wooden benches, and there was a slight smell of incense, like an exotic ghost.
"A disused temple?" said Malon.
"No time, no time."
From outside came the sound of men shouting, obviously trying to decide in which direction they had run. Malon thought they'd figure it out in less than a handful of heartbeats, and she could see no doorways out of the temple.
"Listen, friend, if you've led us into a dead-end …" She patted the dagger on her belt threateningly, but Groose was ignoring her. He walked up the centre aisle with his eyes on the floor, and then dropped to his knees in front of the stone altar. There was a mouldy rug on the floor which he picked up gingerly and moved to one side. Beneath it were flat grey flagstones. As she watched, he took a slim object from an inner pocket and pushed it against a small gap in the floor. There was an audible click and the flagstones swung away into the darkness below.
"What was that?" said Malon. Groose held up the object for her. It was a narrow rectangle about as long as the palm of his hand, apparently made of pink glass. Now the voices outside were very loud.
"A secret key for a secret door," he said, smiling slightly. "Now, down here, if you please, or we'll all be flayed alive. If we're lucky."
The three of them followed him down into the dark. There was a short drop and a strong smell of earth and leaf mould. Groose reached up behind them and did something with the glass key that made the flagstones swing back into place, and they were standing together in the pitch-black.
"So, I don't suppose anyone thought to bring a torch with them?" asked Rusl.
"Funny you should say that …" There was a flicker in the dark, and Groose's face was lit with a warm, sunny glow. He held a glass globe in his hand, and inside it was a hot ball of yellow light.
"Oh, what is this now?" said Malon, starting to get a little annoyed. This Groose character was a bit too confident for her liking; she liked to be the confident one.
"It is a remembrance of light, that is all." Groose looked up at them all. The light made him look older. "You have questions."
"I certainly do," snapped Link. "Where do you think you've taken us? And what do you know about Ganondorf?"
"And who is this Demise bastard?" added Malon.
"We will walk and talk," said Groose, and with that he set off ahead, his ball of light revealing mould-encrusted stone walls to either side. They were in a tunnel. As he walked he spoke softly. "You are the young Lord Frith, returned to us, it seems, from a shallow grave. My mistress saw your arrival here in one of her glasses, and knowing you would meet with difficulties sent me to retrieve you."
"How could she possibly know that?" said Link. "We arrived here entirely at random. No one could have known we were coming."
"My mistress makes the finest of glasses," said Groose smoothly, just as though Link hadn't spoken. "And like the glass, all will become clear. Do you see?" He turned and winked at Malon. "It is a joke. Now, this tunnel will take us out under the walls of Kakariko and some way into the forest, and from there I shall take you to see my mistress."
"And who is she?" asked Rusl.
"An old friend of the family. One who knows how to keep secrets."
A/N: Some of the characters from Zelda are a little weirdly described in this, I know. Like Groose should have red hair but in this he had brown hair... hate me all you want but this is ... we authors can do whatever we want with the characters. lol. Hope you enjoyed this nonetheless. Please review!