Twenty-Four: Mountain Demon

In Which the Climb Concludes

Yeto's house turned out to be, honest to the goddesses, a mansion. A massive, rickety old beast of a thing, nestled on the western slopes of Snowpeak, half-buried under snow and encrusted with what must have been years and years of ice. The wind turned to a high, shrieking whistle as it wound through the frozen hallways, but once Yeto led them to the heart of it, to a room decorated with plush red furniture and a hearth he swiftly lit, the sound grew muffled and the air warmed.

Sat around the fire, away from the terror of the wolfos, Zelda's arm looked bad. Really bad. Maybe worse than it had out in the snow. Her face was wan and drawn, but otherwise she wasn't showing any signs of pain – was maybe refusing to. Link wouldn't've been surprised.

Still, they tended to it as best they could, with their limited supplies and some healing salve Yeto produced from a cupboard in the pantry, which lay just beyond the room they sat in. Link caught a glimpse of a high-ceilinged stone room filled with a massive cauldron and bare shelves, as Yeto opened and closed the door, entering and exiting the pantry about five times in as many minutes. First with blankets, then cushions, then firewood, then healing salve. His eagerness to help was endearing.

Staring into the flames in the hearth as Ganondorf tied the final knot in Zelda's bandages, Link wondered how yetis had ended up with such a bad reputation. Was Yeto an odd one out, or were the stories all just exaggeration and speculation? Hylian books did tend to feature a lot of both.

The clatter of the door opening yanked him from his thoughts, and he caught a whiff of a familiar, sweetly earthy smell as he turned and saw Yeto moving towards them with three steaming bowls balanced precariously in his large hands.

'You eat, you get warm,' Yeto said, placing a bowl in each of their laps. 'No, uh…spoons, sorry.'

Link looked down at the bowl, steam billowing into his eyes, saw the familiar thick orange of it, and smiled. Pumpkin soup. All at once it was like he was home again, and his smile got bigger as he breathed in the smell.

With a little difficulty, he wrangled the bowl into his hand, managing not to plunge any fingers into the hot soup as he clasped the wooden edge between thumb and forefinger. He didn't trust the demon not to tip the whole thing into his lap, so he sat on his right hand and sniggered at the ensuing annoyance that bounced around his skull.

'What is it?' Zelda asked, lifting her bowl and giving it a tentative sniff. 'It smells…lovely.'

Yet another compliment for Yeto. She had warmed to the guy with a speed and ease Link still couldn't quite believe; what had she seen or felt or…sensed about him that'd made her so friendly so fast?

He wouldn't dwell. If nothing else, he'd just take it as a sign Yeto could be trusted.

'Pumpkin soup,' he answered, still smiling. How long had it been since he'd last had it?

Zelda made a little surprised sound. 'I didn't know you could grow pumpkins in the snow.'

'No, cannot,' Yeto replied, with a shake of his big, furry head. He had the strangest face Link had ever seen; greyish skin framed by coarse white fur, wide, staring eyes, and tusks like some kind of boar. 'Have to trade. Met a nice lady selling…'punkins', she said, 'all the way from Or- Ordoon'. Long way, she said.'

Link's heart gave a lurch. He had to mean Ordon; no wonder the smell of the soup was so familiar. Zelda's head turned in his direction, and he bit his lower lip and looked down at his bowl, trying to clamp down on the sudden wave of homesickness he was surfing, knowing she couldn't help what she felt or sensed but not wanting her to feel or sense it.

He was so far from home. Had long had it been since he'd last been back?

He took a sip of soup, and it was so achingly familiar he could almost ignore the tingling in his lips and mouth that said he might've burned them. Unable to help a little sigh – half happy, half sad – he took another gulp as his stomach contracted and he realised how hungry he was. All the stress of climbing mountains and crossing the river and being chased by wolfos had driven hunger from his mind, but now it was back. With a vengeance.

'It's delicious,' Ganondorf said, sat cross-legged across from Link, his eyes bright in the firelight. He blew cautiously on his soup and drank some more.

'Thanks, Yeto,' Zelda said in a small, soft voice, and Link was again taken aback by how quickly she had warmed to him.

For a little while, they sat in contented silence and drank their soup, the fire filling the tall room with light and noise. Link watched the flames sway and dance, and suddenly felt sleepy until he snapped himself out of it and they got down to business.

'So, Yeto,' Zelda began, broaching the subject they'd all been working up to, 'we met the anouki, down at the base of the mountain, and they said that you or- or another yeti had found something weird up here.'

Link watched as his face closed off, his beaming smile slipping away with startling suddenness. 'Bad thing. Very bad,' he said, with a shake of his head. 'Friend found, but Yeto hid away.'

'You hid it?' Ganondorf repeated, and he nodded slowly. 'Where?'

'You here for it?' Yeto asked, his brow crinkling more and more as he frowned. 'Bad thing. Very bad.'

'Oh, I have no doubt.' Zelda set her bowl down with a soft clack and clicked her tongue. She waved a hand in Link's direction, then Ganondorf's. 'Which one of you has the drawing?'

Setting, his bowl down, Link patted at his tunic till he found the Happy Mask Salesman's drawing tucked into a pocket he didn't remember putting it in, then drew it out and unfolded it. He held it up for Yeto to see.

'Is this the thing you found?'

His face furrowed further, and he recoiled a little. 'Yeah, that it. Little thing, nasty thing.'

Ganondorf seemed both relieved and unhappy at the same time when Link glanced at him, and honestly, he felt the same. They'd found the Happy Mask Salesman's mask, but since it was associated with that guy, Link would really rather not have anything to do with it. Especially because even just the sketch of it was creepy. He didn't look forward to seeing it up close.

He imagined it hanging on the back of the Salesman's bag, its bulging eyes staring at anyone who passed by, and shuddered.

'Wuss,' the demon said, the first thing it had said in a while, and tried to pull out his hand where he was still sat on it.

Squirming, he pinned it down even more firmly. 'We've been looking for it,' he told Yeto.

'No. Mustn't.' He shook his head again. 'Very, very bad. Whispers at Yeto, and others.'

'Well, great,' Zelda sighed, rubbing a hand over her face. 'I can't say I'm surprised, but…'

Link pressed his lips into a flat line. 'Yeah.'

It couldn't have just been a simple hunk of wood, could it? No, it had to be possessed or cursed or something. And sure, that was Link's forte, but that didn't mean he wanted it anywhere near him.

It struck him that maybe that was why the Happy Mask Salesman had recruited him. It still creeped him out that the guy seemed to know so much about his life, but suddenly things began to make sense. He wasn't the only person who went around destroying cursed objects and trying to help possessed people, but he was probably one of the few desperate enough to willingly get his hand on some cursed mask and carry it around with him for an unspecified amount of time for a guy like the Happy Mask Salesman.

'We really need to find it, Yeto,' Zelda pressed after a moment. 'It's, well. It's a matter of life and death.'

She turned her face in his direction for a second, then looked away again, and Link felt the demon's amusement at the notion curl through his jaw, pulling his mouth into a smirk he couldn't shift for a good few seconds. He sucked his lips between his teeth and bit down.

'You have been very kind to us already,' Ganondorf said, in what sounded like a gently persuasive version of his 'prince' voice, 'so perhaps you can do us a last kindness before we part, and tell us the mask's location.'

Yeto pouted, face still full of deep creases. 'Not kindness,' he said. 'Very bad thing. Yeto won't tell.'

There was a pause as the three of them deliberated silently. Wracking his brain, Link tried to think of what to say to convince Yeto to tell them where he'd put the mask. He ran his tongue over his teeth thoughtfully, then set down his bowl, stood, and crossed to his side.

'Listen,' he said, and waited for Yeto to look at him, still frowning. 'I've got a lot of experience, dealing with things like this mask. You said it whispered to you, right? What did it say?'

For a moment, Yeto seemed to think, then he said, slowly, 'Wear me.'

'It wanted to be worn?' Link mulled that over. 'Okay, so it's most likely cursed. And I'm good at dealing with cursed objects. I can get it away from here, away from you and everyone else – all your friends – where it can't hurt anyone.'

'Not wear it?' Yeto asked, and narrowed his eyes.

Link shuddered at the thought. 'No way.'

He wondered what would happen, if he ended up with two curses on him. Would they fight? Battle for dominance over him? Sentient curses were rare, though – and usually involved demons. The thought of having two demons warring for his body made Link's stomach twist, his entire body going cold with dread.

'Sounds interesting,' the demon said, its piqued interest tying the knots in his stomach a little tighter. He'd given it ideas. 'Shall I make this brute tell you where it is?'

'No,' Link said, louder than he'd intended, and grabbed his right arm as it twitched towards his sword.

Yeto blinked, and then his face smoothed out. 'Promise?'

'I swear, none of us will wear it. We won't even touch it unless we really have to.'

There was another pause, a long silence filled with anticipation, and then Yeto nodded. He didn't look happy, but he was nodding.

'Okay. Yeto take you to it.'

oOoOo

Link hadn't thought the mountains could get any colder but, as it turned out, they could. A shrill, howling wind got under his clothes and threw flurries of snow in his face, and even with his anouki-approved gear on, he was beginning to lose feeling in his fingers and toes.

It seemed that the higher they got, the worse the storm became, as they trudged along behind Yeto who was, of course, unperturbed by the wind or cold. Link envied his coat of thick fur.

'Skin him and you can have your own,' the demon said, voice clear despite the wind, colder than any snow or ice.

It made no move to act on its suggestion, though, so Link ignored it. He hunched his shoulders further and bowed his head against the wind, hood grasped firmly so it couldn't be blown back off his head. He followed the deep furrow Yeto was cutting through the snow with his long, shuffling strides, glad he didn't have to wade through knee-deep, or deeper, snow.

Squinting up at Yeto through the fluttering fringe of his hood, Link saw they were nearing the top of the slope they'd been climbing for the last half an hour. Then again, everything on the mountain was a slope, really, so they'd probably never been not climbing it.

Either way, they were close. His legs and lungs rejoiced at the thought of some flat ground or even, dare he say it, a decline. His heart fluttered anxiously at the thought of what they'd find on the other side. The mask, sure, but what else? What strange and horrible things would a cursed mask draw to it, especially one that talked?

Even as he thought it, Link heard a whisper on the wind, barely audible over the howl of it but definitely there. There were no words that he could make out, but he knew he was being called to. He recognised the deadly allure of a curse's calling, and swallowed down his sudden eagerness, the unexpected want that overcame him. He could picture himself taking hold of the mask, lowering it onto his face where it would fit perfectly and whisper to him sweetly—

He shook the image away. No force in the world could get him to put that mask on. Not even a rogue right arm and a curious demon.

Said demon laughed. 'Oh, you know you want to.'

Link scowled and trudged on in silence.

Slowly, painfully slowly, the world beyond the slope came into view. Piece by piece, a new landscape took form, vast and glittering, and the wind dropped to little more than a sigh. As he'd hoped, the ground sloped downwards a few metres ahead, after a stretch of brilliant, undisturbed snow, and a great, dark cliff face rose along its left side. After maybe fifty metres, the ground levelled out again then dropped away entirely. Link's stomach lurched as he spotted the tips of pine trees even further down; a valley, half-shrouded in mist and snow, that stretched out almost to the horizon, before rising up to meet with another mountain.

Just before the edge, though, breaking up the blinding brightness of the sudden sun on snow, stood the remains of a low wall and a great, towering archway. It was taller than Yeto, maybe even taller than three Yetos stacked on top of each other, and built of the same dark stone as the cliff to their left. It jutted up from nowhere for no apparent reason, with the crumbled wall nestled below.

'Used to be more,' Yeto said, his voice jarring after so long being deafened by shrieking winds. 'More big arches. Tall building. All fell.'

He gestured to the edge, to the valley. Link imagined the cliff giving out underfoot, with a great crashing and roiling clouds of rock and snow, and shuddered. He wasn't getting anywhere near the edge.

'Afraid someone might…fall off?' the demon taunted, flexing his hand for good measure, and Link bit back a warning growl.

'Mask there, on little wall,' Yeto continued.

'And nobody's…taken it?' Link asked, because the wall wasn't exactly hidden. It was a half hour climb from the mansion, sure, but it was still out in the open.

Yeto shook his head. 'This Yeto's home. Nobody come here.' He glanced at the wall, then back to Link, and frowned. 'Sure you know what you doing?'

He swallowed, then nodded. 'I'm sure.'

When he glanced over his shoulder at Ganondorf and Zelda, their faces were set, determined. Another piece of the puzzle, the key to getting their wishes, lay just fifty metres below them. Ganondorf offered him a little, encouraging nod as Zelda twisted her stick in her hands anxiously. Link couldn't blame her for being worried. She could probably sense the demon's desire to throw her over the edge, and whatever malicious siren song the mask was singing.

'Alright,' Link said, sounding calmer than he felt. 'Let's go.'

They began to slip and slide their way down the slope, and it occurred to him they'd have to go back up it as well. That was, if the cliff didn't give out and the mask didn't put them in its thrall and the demon didn't kill them all.

He tried to think positively. One step closer to his wish, to freedom. With this, he'd never have to see the Happy Mask Salesman ever again. He'd be free, he'd be free.

Cold laughter rattled through his skull, making his brain ache, and he grabbed his right wrist tightly as a precaution. He wouldn't let the demon fuck this up.

Abruptly, the soft sigh of the wind cut out, like the world had taken a breath, and Link felt the ground level out beneath his feet. Yeto stopped and seemed unwilling to go further. Another glance over his shoulder told him that Zelda felt much the same. Her face was even paler than usual, though her nose was red and there were spots of colour in her cheeks, which she'd sucked into her mouth. Muscles fluttered in her temples as she chewed on them.

He looked at Ganondorf, whose face was still set determinedly and, sensing the silent request, he moved closer.

'I don't like how this place feels,' he said softly, as Link turned back to face the still somewhat distant pedestal. 'Do you hear the whispering?'

Up till that point, Link hadn't, but as Ganondorf said it he heard it. It filled his ears, and for a moment his thoughts, before he shook it away forcefully.

'Don't touch it, okay?' he said, and they began to move forward. 'Not until I say.'

Ganondorf was silent for a few paces, but then he took a breath and said, 'Very well.'

He stopped once they were within ten paces of it. It was an unexpected splash of colour against the dark stone. The whispering was all around them, and Link could feel the demon listening too. He wondered if it understood; all he could make out was gibberish, the voice too faint and too echoing to make sense to his ears.

Alone, Link took the final few steps. Just a few metres ahead, the world fell away into the valley, and then he realised the whispering wasn't coming from the mask, but from the forest of pines below. It was the wind in the branches, their snow-leaden leaves.

There was a swooping feeling in his chest, a relief so strong it nearly made him stagger, and he turned to the mask with a new confidence.

And then he started laughing.

No, not him. The demon. Cold crawled through his throat, so much worse than any mountain wind, and his mouth twisted, his face twisted, his voice twisted. The laughter poured out of him, and it hurt, it hurt, like his throat was being torn apart, but he couldn't stop.

'Link?' Ganondorf's voice, startled, sounded behind him, as his right arm spasmed, reaching convulsively for the mask.

Finally, the laughter choked him and the awful sound stopped and Link took a great, gasping breath, feeling frozen to the core with fear as the demon's hold stayed strong and it grabbed the mask with his hand, lifted it to his face. Not to wear, but to stare at. It grinned with his mouth, so widely it hurt, and his eyes met the mask's bulbous ones. He thought he could see them glittering, like actual eyeballs, and as he watched they seemed to shift.

'Well, well, well,' the demon crooned, each word sending a fresh stab of agony through Link's head and throat. His voice came out strained and cracked and wrong. 'If it isn't Majora.'

A new presence stirred, a deep, ancient anger that crawled up his spine and over his skull. Heart hammering against his ribs, he only realised he'd stopped breathing when his lungs began to scream and black spots flickered across his vision, He wished he could scream with them, but the demon's hold was too strong. He couldn't make a sound.

'Old friend,' the demon said, still out loud, still with his mouth. 'So this is where you've been. Stuck in a mask. That's hilarious.'

'And you, stuck in a boy,' a new voice replied, this one in Link's head. At least, he thought it was. His skull felt thick and heavy, his brain full of wool. 'That is pathetic.'

The demon scoffed, and he felt like he'd been stabbed in the neck. 'You wound me.'

'Put the mask on and you'll really be wounded.'

'Now wouldn't that be fun?' The demon gave a sadistic little titter, lowering Link's voice to a purr that he couldn't quite believe was coming out of his own mouth. 'I think I might just take you up on that offer. How about a little dance, for old time's—'

Somewhere far away, someone gave a sudden cry.

'Enough, fiend!'

Distantly, Link felt something hit his arm, knocking the mask into the snow, and the old, angry presence slipped away and he was alone with the demon again.

And then he was falling, and there was nothing but darkness for a second and an eternity, and then he was on his back staring up at a dark sky – no, a ceiling – with three familiar faces hovering over him. They all wore identical expressions of concern, faces lit by flickering orange light.

Blinking slowly, confused, Link tried to swallow, only for his whole throat to go up in flames. It felt ripped to shreds, but he was pretty sure he'd be dead if that were actually the case.

Grimacing, he powered through and managed to croak something that nearly sounded like, 'Whassgoinon?'

'Bad mask,' Yeto said, and Link thought he might be sick as he recalled that second presence, wondering if it was slumbering somewhere inside his head now, waiting to battle the demon for his body.

'Majora,' he said, remembering, and realised he was shivering. His body ached with cold, even though he could hear fire crackling nearby and it felt like there were maybe ten blankets stacked on top of him, weighing him down comfortingly.

Sudden fear had him bolting upright, and he had to fight the blankets for a moment before he said, 'Majora! The mask it's- nobody touched it, right? Nobody touched it?'

His voice came out thin and ragged, the fire in his throat burning up the words, but his desperation must've shown because Ganondorf reached out a hand a placed it gently on his shoulder.

'We didn't touch it,' he assured Link, who swallowed painfully and touched his neck to make sure there actually weren't any holes in it.

'So you- you left it where it was? It's still hidden?'

Zelda pulled a face, then patted the blankets over Link's legs reassuringly. 'No, we've got it with us. But we're all fine, we bundled it up in a spare cloak and made sure it was completely covered.'

He slumped his shoulders, relieved and afraid and in pain, prodding gingerly at his neck. It felt like the demon had shredded his vocal cords and windpipe while speaking through him, but at least it was quiet now. Maybe it had run out of steam, used up all its energy.

'Why you want it so bad?' Yeto asked after a moment, and Link looked up at him. 'Very bad thing, no?'

'Oh, it is,' Link said, and sighed.

Zelda shifted, furrowing her brow. 'But what exactly is it? I know it's old, and most likely evil, but…even with this thing I can't see much from it at all.' She waved her right hand about.

'It's a demon,' Link told her, still rubbing at his throat. 'Majora. It's been imprisoned in that mask and…the demon…my demon knew it. Said they were 'old friends'.'

'This explains the laughing,' Ganondorf said quietly, and Link grimaced at the memory. 'We must keep the pair of you as far from each other as possible. I don't wish for this to repeat.'

'You and me both,' Link said, and cleared his throat. He immediately regretted it. 'Ow.'

'Neck hurt?' Yeto had been looking confused, but now he sprang to his feet with new vigour. 'I get more soup.'

'That would…actually be really nice,' Link replied, but it didn't matter because he'd already vanished into the kitchen.

For a moment, there was silence, warm and comfortable. Link listened to Yeto pottering about, letting his head loll down towards the tower of blankets stacked on his lap. Despite what had happened, he felt safe and almost warm, glad the demon hadn't done more damage, relieved no one else had touched the mask. Someone began to murmur nearby, and he listened in content silence.

With the clatter of the kitchen door opening – which made Link start, and he realised he'd been staring blankly at the wall – Yeto returned, once again handing him a bowl of steamy, soupy goodness. 'Here.'

'Thanks,' he replied, taking it and watching the steam curl from it lazily. 'Where is it, by the way? The mask.'

It wasn't that he didn't trust them, he just wanted to know where it was. Needed to, even, so he could keep it safe from them. No, that wasn't right. Keep them safe from it. Majora.

Nobody replied for a moment, and he looked between them in confusion. Zelda was massaging her temples, and gave no sign of having heard him, while Ganondorf stared at him inscrutably and Yeto pursed his lips and looked away, toward the kitchen.

'Yeto go check soup,' he said when Link tried to catch his eye, and then he was gone.

He narrowed his eyes. 'Okay, what's going on?'

'Nothing,' Zelda said, sounding almost weary, dropping her hands from her head. 'We're just not sure if we should tell you. Or, well, the demon. We don't want it grabbing the mask again.'

Someone tutted, and for a moment Link was sure it was the demon, rattling around in his skull, before he realised the sound had come from him, out loud.

He rubbed at his throat. 'Okay. Yeah, I think...I think that's a good idea.'

Controlled by the demon or not, he'd still had the mask – the very, very cursed mask – in his hand; he'd touched it, and its power was lingering. He suddenly felt somehow off, not quite himself, and he heard again that murmuring, felt the slow, slumbering anger of the presence making it.

'We need to get rid of that thing as soon as possible,' he said, the words unpleasantly hard to say.

'I agree,' Zelda said, 'it's driving me up the wall.'

'I thought you said you didn't touch—'

She cut him off before he could finish. 'I didn't. But ever since you did, it's been very talkative. All the way up the mountain I could hear it, or…or sense it, but it was just incoherent whispers. Now, though, it won't shut up.' She raised her voice pointedly, but if Majora took the hint Link couldn't tell.

'And you say it is…'friends' with the demon in your arm?' Ganondorf said, his still-inscrutable gaze fixed on Link.

'I mean, if demons can be friends,' Link said, 'then yeah. So, I guess we'll just have to see who it wants to screw over more: me or Majora.'

'We'll keep it hidden,' Ganondorf said, then paused as Yeto stuck his head anxiously back into the room. 'But there is something I must tell you, Link, before you find it on your own. Yeto, do you have any…mirrors in your home?'

He blinked confusedly – at the same time Link did – before he nodded. 'Yes! Pretty thing. Yeto fetch it.'

And he was gone again. Link watched the door shut and felt his heart flutter anxiously. He looked back at Ganondorf, who met his eyes but didn't say anything, not even when he raised his eyebrows questioningly, and not even when he scowled. When he looked at Zelda, she seemed no more in the know than him, but then again it was Zelda. What didn't she know?

The thought was surprisingly bitter, and he clamped down on it anxiously, before it could be felt.

'Okay, what's going on now?' he asked, to distract himself, and Ganondorf's mouth pinched at the corners ever so slightly.

'Better it's shown than said,' he said, and Link's heart gave another worried lurch.

'Come on,' he protested, with a small anxious laugh that hurt. 'Don't be- don't be like that. Please just tell me what's going on.'

Ganondorf rubbed a hand over his mouth and said nothing, so Link went back to frowning at him. It was tempting to get up and go look for something reflective – a window maybe, or a smooth patch of ice – but the weight and warmth of the blankets piled on top of him were too comfortable to leave. He rubbed at his neck absently; it was probably going to be hurting for a while. For a moment, he thought about how the demon's voice had sounded, coming from his mouth, but quickly forced the memory away as his skin crawled and horror had tears prickling at the corners of his eyes.

They sat – in Link's case at least – in tense silence for the better part of five minutes, and he sullenly sipped his soup until Yeto returned. He carried with him an ornate hand mirror, tiny in his massive fist, made of what looked to be intricately chiselled obsidian or some other dark, smooth stone, which he handed gingerly to Ganondorf. He visibly hesitated, a rarity for him, and Link narrowed his eyes suspiciously.

'This will not be easy to see,' he said slowly, like he was picking each word with care, 'But I think it better that you know.'

He held out the mirror, and Link reached out to take it but then hesitated. Looking at Ganondorf's solemn expression, he felt like he already knew what was coming, but he couldn't quite put his finger on what. He swallowed, grimacing at the stab of pain that followed, and grasped the mirror's handle. It was cold against his skin, heavy when Ganondorf let go, and he stared down at the patterns carved on the back of it for a moment before he flipped it over, resolute or resigned, he couldn't decide.

For a heartbeat or two, all he saw was his face, the tangled hair and shadows under his eyes, but then red glinted in the firelight and he saw it. The demon's markings, twisting up the right side of his neck, where they came to rest just below his jaw. In the flickering light, he could almost pretend it was the fire giving them some illusion of movement, but he knew it wasn't true as he watched them writhe on his skin.

Shutting his eyes, he lifted the mirror until its cold surface touched his forehead, hoping it hid his face from the others. He let out a long, slow breath, and when he inhaled it only caught in his throat a little bit, cold mountain air filling the sudden empty space in his chest as a dull hollowness began to settle in.

That was it, then. It could strangle him, probably, whenever it wanted. He was all out of time.

He took another breath and held it, brushing the dampness from his eyelashes that couldn't quite be contained. Then he set the mirror down firmly and gave a hearty sniff, swallowing hard around the tightness in his throat.

'Well, that's that,' he said, looking at Ganondorf then averting his gaze, embarrassed. 'Thanks for telling me, I…I wouldn't've wanted to be walking around not knowing about it.'

'Of course,' Ganondorf replied, but he looked and sounded unsure, which wasn't like him at all.

Biting his bottom lip, Link hunched up a little, tugging uncomfortably at his collar then putting his hand to his neck, as if hiding the marks would make everyone forget they were there.

Zelda took a deep breath. 'We're out of time, then,' she said, and his stomach twisted as she echoed his thoughts with uncanny accuracy. She'd said she couldn't read minds, but he wasn't so sure. 'We need to get the last piece and the last location as quickly as possible.'

'Okay, but where are we even going to find that asshole?' he asked, fighting to keep his voice level as his lips continued to tremble ever so slightly.

'Luck?' Ganondorf suggested. 'Or perhaps he will find us. I would suggest we return down the mountain, and on our way to the Lake Hylia search for him.'

'Twenty rupees says he's waiting for us at the bottom,' Zelda said, 'but not before we've rested. I've still got holes in my arms and, well, I think you could use a break, Link.'

He swallowed hard and rubbed at his neck, trying to assuage the now familiar ache that had settled there. 'Yeah.'

'Yeto's letting us stay here for the night,' she continued, and as usual it felt like she was looking right at him. 'He offered while you were passed out.'

'That's—' Link cleared his throat and ignored the pain as his voice came out too wobbly for his liking. 'That's really kind of you, after we've caused you all this trouble.'

Yeto beamed and shook his head. 'Is a pleasure! Is not often I get to talk to people not from mountains. You sleep here, warm and safe, and go back after breaky-fast.'

And that was that. Link didn't think he'd be able to move, even if he'd wanted to, under the piles of blankets and with the lure of the crackling fire just a few metres away. He lay back and watched the flames as Zelda and Ganondorf got themselves sorted, looking for shapes in its constant shifting to keep himself from thinking too much.

Eventually, though, he shut his eyes and wriggled around till he was faced away from the hearth, its glow barring him from any semblance of sleep. Listening to it crackle, he lay and felt each beat of his heart, reassuring himself it was still there under all the heavy hollowness inside him.

He was all out of time. He tried not to think about it, but of course that was impossible. Would he make it to Lake Hylia? Would he even make it down the mountain? There was no telling what the demon would do, when it would strangle or stab him in his sleep, or push someone off a cliff. He knew it had, up till now, never been inclined to kill him with its own – with his own – hands, seeing it as a dull end to their years-long battle of wills, but he had no clue if it still felt the same now that its influence had spread so far so fast.

Scrunching up his face and shutting his eyes tighter, Link felt a few more tears slip free, pooling against the bridge of his nose and in the shell of his ear, but he made no move to wipe them away. Wrapped up as he was now, in his ten blankets, he couldn't anyway. His arms were pinned by his sides.

He lay quietly in the room's warm silence, listening to the fire and the slowing breathing of the others, and thought of home. Of Ordon. He'd probably never go back, now. He'd never reach home.

With images of green pastures and familiar faces swimming in his mind's eye, Link drifted off to sleep. He woke with a start from a dream in which he stood before the dying fire, Majora's mask held gently in his hands, and then he rolled onto his back and stared at the steadily darkening ceiling, afraid to sleep and fall under the influence of one demon or the other.