"Ooh, I don't like this," Krysu whispered, her arms stretched to the side, each holding one scimitar.
The three Gerudo were perched on the roof of one of the abandoned guard posts. The guards had all been called in to fight. Ganondorf was kneeling with his chin in his palm, his scimitars on his back and holding the side of the roof with his other hand. Nabooru was mirroring his position on the other side of the building, and Krysu was at the very top of the pyramid-shaped roof.
"Oh, come on, Krysu," Nabooru said. "This is fun."
"Fun?" she scoffed. "Does training cover this? No, it doesn't!"
"Hey, I have experience in this, remember?"
Krysu nodded. "Unfortunately. I was there too."
Nabooru just shook her head. "At least I got 200 rupees. And it's a good thing to know how to do. If someone came up to me and said, 'I bet you don't have the guts to jump off the top of the Fortress cafeteria tied to your friend,' I can be all like, 'I've already done that! So there! What now?!' to them."
Krysu barked out a short laugh, then remembered they were mad at each other, and gave her a scathing look. "You're crazy. Stark raving nuts."
Nabooru laughed crazily, then turned to Ganondorf. "So . . . what now?" she asked.
He scanned the Fortress below. This wasn't a small attack, but it wasn't a full-out battle; there were maybe fifty Hylians fighting in the main area, not counting the ten or so dead on the ground.
Fifty Hylians . . . against a whole Fortress of Gerudo. Maybe a few hundred in all.
It was going to be slaughter.
That thought should have made him sick. It should have made him pity the poor Hylians. But things are rarely the way they should be. Things are the way they are. And Ganondorf had learned to accept that.
The truth was, he felt pleased. A savage anger at the Hylians, who just stupidly attacked them for no reason and no hope of winning. And a satisfaction that they were learning to leave the Gerudo alone.
It scared him.
"Ga-non-dorf!" Nabooru singsonged. "What do we dooo?"
He shrugged, glancing at her. "What do you think?"
She looked surprised for a moment, but bit her lip and thought. "Well, they're outnumbered," she began slowly. "Of course, they don't seem to be going down, do they? Not even against the Gerudo." Another long pause, then, "The others might have a plan, and they're letting the Hylians win. If that's true, then we could mess everything up by just being there. Or worse, the Hylians have a plan, or some sort of security. This could be a decoy or something." She looked up at him. "I think the smartest thing to do would be to send two of us down there to stealthily figure everything out, then do . . . whatever. And have one of us go look around the rest of the Fortress, see what's going on there." She shrugged helplessly. "That's all I have. We're going on no information."
Ganondorf nodded, admiring her quick thinking for a moment. Then he returned his thoughts to the battle. "Okay," he said. "Let's do that. Krysu, Nabooru, you'll be all right down there?"
Nabooru rolled her eyes. "We'll be fine."
Krysu nodded in agreement. "Yeah, but will you be all right?" she asked Ganondorf.
"Yeah. Now, remember: this is not a battle. You're just going to see that you can find out. Right?" Nabooru didn't miss the warning glance he'd given her. She winked cockily and positioned herself near the edge of the roof, taking Ganondorf's place in the shadows.
He stood, and strode past, lightly brushing his fingertips on her back. With a little wave, he was gone.
Krysu kneeled down next to her. "So we just throw ourselves off the roof?"
"Yep." She shrugged. "Prepare yourself," she said dramatically. "This is going to be very stupid."
"Aaahh!" Krysu whisper-screamed with exaggerated fear, then returned to her poker-face expression. "I'm ready," she said with mock seriousness.
Nabooru launched herself off the roof, falling almost straight down into darkness. "Kamikaze!" she said in the same whisper-scream. She hit the ground and rolled back, then sprang to her feet in one fluid motion.
Krysu landed with catlike grace, crouching next to her. "Now what?"
"We wait." As she spoke, Nabooru crept forward, slinking around buildings, weaving closer and closer to the Hylians. The few Gerudo had fled, and the Hylians were standing around, looking after the wounded and watching over each other. Nabooru stepped closer, then froze when she nearly ran into a Hylian who was tending to a figure on the ground. He stiffened.
Had he sensed her? She looked around, certain she hadn't made any movement. Then she heard it. A soft moan that she'd tuned out in her attempt at being cautious. Staying far back, she glanced behind her and to the left, seeing an old Gerudo leaning against a pillar, holding her arm. The Gerudo looked furious at herself for showing such weakness, and Nabooru sympathized. She even knew the old woman, though they had a bit of a love-hate (with emphasis on hate) relationship. But she knew what it was like to follow the Gerudo protocol--even though she ignored it--and felt bad.
The Hylian turned around, facing the Gerudo, and did something that shocked Nabooru. He began taking care of the woman, murmuring kind reassurances to her as he gently spread a red potion over her wounds.
Krysu was halfway across the area, and when she saw Nabooru, she mouthed, "What's wrong?" When Nabooru just shook her head, Krysu gestured for her to come with her.
She shook her head again to clear it. So what if Hylians cared about the Gerudo, when no one else did? They were still attacking, weren't they? They still had to die, didn't they?
Well, that's what Ganondorf would've said. She wasn't so sure. It surprised her, and unsettled her. The Hylians were supposed to be savage, greedy, stupid, and weak, living in splendor and hating the Gerudo for wanting that. Monsters with no redeeming qualities whatsoever. They made alliances with the Sheikah, for crying out loud! At the very least they were unpredictable and inconsistent. That was what she'd assumed, at least. She'd have to tell Ganondorf later.
She shook her head yet again, realizing she must look like one of the bobbing head cows Amalyse had traded her favorite gold necklace for. She was letting her emotions get in the way of her thinking. Very un-Gerudolike. Too Hylian-like.
But then again, she wondered, trying in vain to imagine a Gerudo help an enemy, is that so terrible?
The pointy-eared man fell to the ground without a sound. Ganondorf gently replaced his weapon, a heavy gold platter, with a glance to either side. Ridiculous, of course. Nabooru nor Krysu were anywhere nearby to witness his hypocrisy. But he could still see Nabooru, shaking her head at him and saying, "No violence, huh?"
Ignoring his muddled, useless thoughts, he stepped around the unconscious figure and tried to open the door he was guarding. It opened about an inch, then met resistance; they'd set up a barricade.
"Story of my life," he muttered dramatically, more for the purpose of talking than actual anger. "Cruising along happily, la-dee-da-dee-da, then BAM!" He punched the door for emphasis.
There was a scraping noise on the other side of the door, then a voice called out, "Who's there?"
"What does it matter?" he snapped back.
Silence greeted his words, and he thought he heard a girl whisper, "That sounds like Ganondorf."
Another person asked, "What's the password?"
"There's . . . password? . . . I . . . know that," someone else said in a muffled voice--he assumed they were talking behind their hands--but was quickly shushed. "Shut up . . . uh . . . What's the password?"
Ganondorf thought long and hard about this; if he answered incorrectly, they could come out there and try to kill him, unless they were who he thought they were. Five seconds later, he slammed his fist into the door again and hissed, "Open the damn door!"
"Yep, that's Ganondorf," someone said dryly, and he thought he recognized the voice as Aveni's.
The door opened, and Ganondorf found himself facing a sea of Gerudo faces. A pair of hands grabbed him and dragged him inside, then slammed the door behind him.
"What are you doing in here?" he asked, peering through the dimness at the others. "Why aren't you out there fighting?"
"Because," Aveni explained patiently, letting go of him, "we don't know why the Hylians chose to attack us, or how they got in. Until we can figure that out, I am not risking any more Gerudo lives. There are too few of us," she added sadly, looking at the one-hundred-something girls in the large room. "And that Hylian is guarding this room--" she said, in answer to Ganondorf's unspoken question, "because he thinks he is guarding a room full of prisoners."
He looked them over. "But you still have your weapons."
"He is a poor farmer or merchant, not the type to make brilliant decisions." Aveni glanced at him. "You approve of our plan, then, Your Highness?" She bowed low, and the other Gerudo followed suit hastily. People kept forgetting he was King, and a tiny voice in his head--sounding suspiciously familiar, though not his own--was annoyed, telling him to make sure they remember from then on.
"So you're just sitting in here?" Ganondorf asked, unimpressed. "While they take our home?"
"We were awaiting orders from our King!" one of the girls said hotly. He looked at her. She was the same age as Nabooru--the same generation, at least. In fact, he'd seen her around Nabooru . . . Tami, her name was. Tami crossed her arms. "So? What do we do?"
This generation was not very respectful. At least, not the ones Nabooru had influenced. He shrugged. "Fight back? Do something?"
Aveni held out her hand. She took out a necklace and slipped it over his head. He couldn't look at it without risking serious (not really) injury; he craned his neck and thought he caught a glimpse of something orange-yellow. Why was he wearing a necklace? Necklaces weren't cool.
Gesturing to the necklace, Aveni said, "That's the mark of the King." She looked up at him, her eyes and tone serious. "You're not supposed to get this until you're eighteen, but this is an important circumstance. You're our King, and it's time you act like one, and it's definitely time we all treat you like one." On that last comment she arched an eyebrow at him. He was reminded of a certain golden-eyed, loudmouthed Gerudo and grinned sheepishly.
"All right," he said, uncomfortable of the solemn, almost sentimental mood that had settled over the group. He was also half-afraid they'd all start bowing again. He stuffed his hands in his pockets (yeah, Gerudo pants have pockets--how else would they smuggle out their stuff?) and looked at the ground. "Well, I think the easiest way to figure out what's going on is to ask." He opened the door and dragged in the Hylian man (who had in fact woken up, unfortunately for him) by the ear, covering the poor farmer's mouth before he could say a word and dropping him unceremoniously on the floor. "Now, I am going to teach you all a lesson on how to ask questions," Ganondorf began conversationally. He picked up the Hylian by his collar and asked threateningly, "What are you doing here?"
"I-I'm guarding--I was guarding--the Gerudo p-prisoners," the man croaked, covering his face with his hands.
"Not you, you--I mean, what the hell are you and your Goddess-damned Hylians doing in our Fortress!"
"We're . . ." the man's voice grew stronger, and he straightened, looking Ganondorf in the eye. "We're merely stopping injustice."
Ganondorf almost laughed at the flowery language. Only Hylians spoke like that; other races, even the Sheikah sometimes, had the sense just to say what they meant. Of course, laughing might ruin the frightening-interrogator act he was going for. He lowered his voice even more, and shot the man with a steely glare. "Injustice?" he repeated softly, but not kindly.
"Yes, injustice! You have stolen what should belong to the whole land of Hyrule, keeping it to yourselves, not that we're surprised, of course--"
He was cut off as Ganondorf increased his grip on the farmer's shirt collar, pulling their faces closer to each other's. "What. Did. We. Take," he demanded, and this time the menace was real.
"The . . . the Triforce. Don't you even know what you've stolen?"
Ganondorf threw the man to the ground, placing his foot on the poor Hylian's abdomen. "See that?" he asked, turning to all the Gerudo, reclining backward as though without worries. "All it takes is a polite voice, patience, and a gentle touch." He offhandedly hit the man's temples, knocking him unconscious again.
"Now," he continued. "I think we should go look around outside, tell these kind, understanding people--" as he spoke, he stepped on the man's fingers-- "that they are mistaken, that we do not have the Triforce, and that if they don't leave, we will kill each and every one of them. No big challenge, really."
Aveni put a hand on his arm. "And, Your Highness," she added hastily, bowing, "if they don't leave?"
He gave her a flat, cold glare. "I thought I made it perfectly clear."
"I thought that was just an empty threat--" She gave him a warning look.
"Nope." He shrugged off her hand. "Any other questions? Good. Stay up here, though; I want you all nearby."
The Gerudo burst out of the room, whooping and brandishing their weapons. They had obviously wanted to fight, but someone--Aveni, no doubt--had stopped them. His mother stopped at the door and turned around.
"Ganondorf, what do you think you're doing? Setting up those Hylians for slaughter, innocent people, who want to defend what they think is theirs--"
"Innocent? They're here, aren't they?" Ganondorf shot back indifferently, striding past her.
He thought he heard her mutter something about "damn witches," but he ignored her.
Koume and Kotake hadn't affected him at all.
This was simply an . . . undiscovered strength.
And they'd need strength . . . if they were going to survive the war.
Blue ocean . . . blue sky . . . blue funky bird flying past . . .
Demi was lost in a land of blue.
Suddenly a head popped up. Blonde hair, blue eyes, long pointed ears.
Had he seen this girl before?
"Hi!" she chirped, sticking out her hand. "I'm Annabelle!"
He looked at the grubby hand in front of his face, still trying to remember where he was. Flickering images swam through his head.
A shadow . . . a boat . . . seven pirates . . . seven girl pirates . . .
Seven girl pirates that hadn't washed in months . . .
And who could give one a whopping blow to the head . . . Demi closed his eyes against a splitting headache.
Apparently he was on their ship.
Lovely.
Annabelle stepped away from him. "I'm here to be your warden--Maria's words, not mine!" she added with a grin. "I'm s'posed to make sure you don't escape . . . ya know, into the ocean . . . Farore, that Maria's nuts. Also, I'll take care of keeping ya from gettin' hurt or somefink. Oh! And I can keep ya informed. Ty says I'm way too good at knowin' everythin' about everyone! So what's your name?"
Demi sat up; his headache was going away, and the blackness had faded from his vision. He was in a cabin, below decks, clearly. His face was about three inches away from a round window overlooking the sea. As furniture went, his room really wasn't very nice. He was sleeping on a bench, with an old potato sack as a blanket. He was in some old storage room, filled with old food and such. He turned to face Annabelle, who was watching him expectantly. He told her his name and paused; she was still looking at him.
"Any questions?" she repeated, sighing in obvious exasperation.
"Where am I?"
"You're on board the . . . well, it doesn't actually have a name yet," she explained, frowning. "I want to call it the Jolly Roger, 'cause everyone knows that ship was sure popular, but Maria thinks it sounds stupid. And Liz thought it sounded stupid. And Ty . . . Actually, Ty thinks everythin's stupid, so I s'pose she shouldn't count, huh?"
"Right. And why am I here?"
"Because we captured you!" Annabelle beamed. She was wearing a long green dress, with a pouch and a dagger on a belt at her waist. Her dirty hair fell to her waist, hidden under a large black bandanna. She was also wearing elaborate earrings and a small black choker necklace. Her smile was so bright and happy; she didn't fit the pirate image at all. She was probably three or four years younger than he was.
"And can I go?" he asked, knowing what the answer would be.
She shook her head. "Not till ya talk to Maria. Speakin' o' which, she wants you to come and talk with her, when ya got all your questions answered."
"Just one more." That wasn't true; he had tons of questions, but he figured they could wait. "Who's Maria?"
"She's our captain." Annabelle took Demi's hand and dragged him behind her; out the room, up the stairs, and onto the deck (I have no clue about ship terms; I don't know which is the port side or the Whatever side or the Dark side, okay? Bear with me). Annabelle pulled him over to a tall girl with reddish-blonde hair that stuck out in unruly spikes under her black bandanna. Her back was to them, and when Annabelle put a hand on her shoulder, she stiffened, then turned to face them slowly. Her eyes were greenish blue, and she had high eyebrows that gave her a constantly-amused look. Her black tank top shirt was ripped at the bottom, the sleeves, and the collar. She was wearing a pair of baggy shorts with a huge belt, also sporting a dagger and a pouch, and a tiny silver anklet decorated her dirty bare feet.
"Thank you, Annabelle," the girl said, fingering a necklace identical to Annabelle's that hung around her neck. Annabelle gave Demi an apologetic smile then left. The girl turned her eyes on Demi. "You're the prisoner."
"Yep."
"All right, then, listen up: I don't tell you about me, you don't tell me about you; I don't wanna hear some sob story. You don't get no pity, I don't want any. Don't talk unless spoken to. You'll live in the storage room until the test. If you pass the test, you're a pirate; congratulations. If you fail, we throw you overboard. If you talk back, we throw you overboard. If you don't do what you're told, we throw you overboard. Oh, and the number-one rule: Get outta my face, but stay by my side. Got it? Good."
Demi nodded, feeling a vague sense of whiplash at her hurried instructions. He tentatively raised his hand, not wanting to go overboard. In any sense of the word.
The captain pointed at him, making the bracelets around her wrist jangle. "Talk."
"You're Maria, right?"
She swore. "Annabelle told you?"
"Uh-huh."
"Yeah, I'm Maria. Din, that girl can't tell total strangers these things." She muttered the last part more to herself than Demi.
"Maria!" A girl, one he recognized as the one who'd hit him over the head, saluted, then said, "Who's this?"
"The prisoner," Maria said with a dismissive jerk of her head in his general direction. Earrings lined the entire bottom of each ear.
"Oh." The pirate grinned at him. "That's Bluebeard, didya know that?"
Maria scowled. "I'm not Bluebeard, Liz."
"C'mon, you're the best pirate out there, and ya gotta have a good pirate name--"
"What's wrong with Maria?"
The pirate ignored her. "Doesn't she look like a 'Bluebeard?'" she asked Demi, drawing an invisible rainbow in the air over Maria's head with her fingers as she said "Bluebeard."
"Get out of here!" Maria ordered. To Demi, she snapped, "Go back downstairs, the test'll be ready in a little while."
Demi went back to his room and looked out the window. Where were they now? Probably far away from Hyrule. He dropped his head into his arms with a weary sigh, wondering why it was never easy.
He must have fallen asleep, because when he opened his eyes, Annabelle was gently shaking his shoulders. "Come on, Demi, it's time for you to take the test. Wake up, Demi."
He followed Annabelle as she left the storage room, but instead of going up to the deck, she went down to the very last room. The center of the room looked like the floor had caved in, with only the front and the back elevated. Level with the front and the back of the room were raised platforms, and from the ceilings hung ropes. Maria was standing at the other end of the room, on the raised portion. (Hopefully that description didn't suck. If it did, think: that Windwaker pirate-test-thing. It's pretty much identical).
"Okay, this is how it works. These platforms will stay up for a few minutes, then they'll sink back down" --as she spoke, the platforms slowly disappeared from sight-- "and you'll have to start over again. You swing on the ropes to get to the platforms. If you fall, you go back to the beginning. You get three tries to get across the room. Cut the shit" --Demi was giving her an incredulous look-- "the other girls have done it. Anyway, this is one of the oldest tests. Any self-respecting pirate ship has one of these. If you get across the room, I'll give ya instructions for the next test. There are three. Got it? Good."
Annabelle turned to Dimitri. "Listen, you push that switch" --she pointed at it-- "to raise the platforms, and that one" --she pointed again-- "to lower them. Good luck."
Demi stepped on the switch, watching as all the platforms flew into the air. He jumped forward, grabbed a rope, swung, and landed on the first platform. Feeling slightly more confident, he took another rope, tried for the next platform . . .
And realized, the second he'd let go, that there was no way he could make it to that platform, and saw where he should have gone. With a sickening crack, he landed on his shoulder.
Annabelle threw him a red potion. He caught it with his good hand and took a tiny sip, feeling the pain in his shoulder ebb. He climbed up the ladder, lowered the platforms, then raised them again.
He knew what he did wrong last time, and now it was surprisingly easy. Well, easier, at least. Jump, grab, swing, land. Jump, grab, swing, land. Jump, grab, swing--
Miss! He wildly kicked out and hooked his knee on the edge of the platform. He was staring at the floor, hanging upside down. He hauled himself back to his feet and continued. Jump, grab, swing, land . . .
And he was done. He smirked at the astonishment in Maria's expression. She quickly recovered.
"Not bad," she commented. "But that was the first test. They'll get a hell of a lot harder."
He grinned, feeling better than he had in a long time.
"I'd be disappointed if they didn't."
"Uh, hello? Great Deku Tree?" Saria called, squinting up at the giant tree. "Are you awake?"
'Saria, there is no need to shout. I am awake. With this music all around, there is no doubt that I would not be awake.'
Note: funky things that look like this: ' around words mean that the great and glorious tree (or other inanimate objects, if I come across any) are speaking.
Zelda glanced around. It sounded like it came from the tree, but the tree hadn't moved. She wondered if someone behind the tree was talking.
Saria rolled her eyes, correctly interpreting her confusion. "Well, it can't exactly talk if it's a tree, now can it?"
"Oh. Right." Duh.
'I see thou made it here in one piece.'
Zelda shrugged. "Yeah. And we were sorta wondering why."
The tree laughed (or at least, the sound of laughing came from the general direction of the tree. 'I see. You were 'sorta wondering' why I didn't allow you to perish in the Forest, like so many others. Yes. Well, I assume your intentions are not evil, though maybe not noble. I believe I will wait and see what you choose to do, and act justly.'
Zelda raised an eyebrow at "justly." Who says 'justly?'
"Why are you telling us this, when there is nothing we can do about it?" Daphnes asked.
'It is a warning.'
"Well there's a poetic way to put it," Zelda muttered under her breath.
'I have an extraordinary sense of hearing.'
"But you don't have ears."
'Obviously.'
"How can you hear, then?"
'I'm cool like that.' There was a laugh in his voice.
"Well," Daphnes cut in. "As riveting as this conversation is, I think we should be on our way."
'I have more to say.' The Great Deku Tree didn't move, but they could feel power emanating from it. 'I am placing my trust in you. That doesn't mean I can't take it away. Don't do anything you shouldn't be doing, or I will take away my trust, and my protection.'
"Uh, great, thanks. We're warned. Excellent." Daphnes inclined his head at the tree. As he ushered Zelda away, he hissed, "Can't you make a good first impression once in your life?"
"Why? This is much more interesting. Only the cool people bother to look past first impressions. I don't wanna hang out with non-cool people."
"So that's a no."
"That's a no," Zelda agreed cheerfully.
Saria bounded ahead of them, humming a happy little song to herself. Jumping up onto a branch that was hanging off the ground, she turned on one foot, swinging her arms around to keep her balance. She plopped down onto the branch. "Do you know where to go?"
"No," Daphnes said slowly. "We thought you did."
"Well, I have some ideas . . ." Saria closed her eyes in concentration. "If it was anyplace, it'd be there," she murmured to herself.
"Where?" Zelda asked.
Saria hopped down from her branch and hurried away, barely stopping to make sure Daphnes and Zelda were behind her. They ran--there really isn't that much to tell, besides the fact that Saria was filled with sudden energy, Daphnes wasn't, and Zelda was just frustrated from getting no answers. Oh, and the music is still there.
Finally Daphnes got close enough to Saria to grab her arm. She stopped, but her legs kept moving; the end result was her flat on her back, glaring up at Daphnes.
"Saria," he said, trying to catch his breath. "Look up at the sky! We're running in pitch blackness, almost. I dunno if whatever green-haired species you're from needs sleep, but we do. So just relax; the special place will still be there in the morning."
Saria sighed, but didn't get up. Daphnes let go of her arm and sat down, and once he and Zelda were comfortable, Saria spoke.
"I don't know if you're right." It was almost a whisper.
"What?" Zelda sat up, her forehead creasing in confusion.
"You said the special place will still be there in the morning. I don't think you're right."
Zelda looked at her with a strange expression on her face. "Start talking."
"The place . . . I go there sometimes, just to see it . . . but I can't get in. There's a wall or something. And then when I try to find it again, sometimes it's there, and sometimes it isn't."
"Maybe you just forgot where it was," Daphnes said reassuringly.
"That's what I thought. Or that it had moved. The Great Deku Tree has the power to move the trees when he wants to. So I stayed overnight, right outside it. And when I woke up . . . it was gone." Saria sighed, dropping her into her hands.
"Sounds like a good place for the Triforce," Daphnes said.
"Is there any way to tell when it's there or not?" Zelda asked.
"Let me think."
A thick silence filled the clearing. The forest seemed to be holding its breath.
"I think I know," Saria whispered. Daphnes sat up immediately, looking at her. Her eyes were wide, and her expression was despairing as she looked at him.
"Whenever the place is there, the forest is filled with music."
Daphnes looked around, realizing why she looked so upset.
The forest was completely silent.
The music was gone.
"Are you sure you didn't see him?" Jade asked the Hylian for the millionth time.
He shook his head. "No, miss."
"Positive? Tall, with black, curly hair, brown eyes, a gold earring?" she pleaded desperately. "Goes by 'Demi?'"
"No, miss." The man took her by the shoulders and steered her away. His eyes met hers. "I haven't. Go see the Sheikah if you want answers. Hear they know everything."
"Who're they?"
He turned her around, so that she was facing away from his ranch. "See that river? Go across the bridge and into the village, right? Then go to the tree near the entrance. There should be someone there. Talk to him, and he'll take you there. Especially since you got them red eyes. They don't trust Hylians, or Zoras, and definitely not Gerudo. The only people they really trust is themselves, and sometimes them Gorons. So since you look like a Sheikah, they'll know ya are one, even though ya are from far away an' all. See?"
Jade nodded and thanked the man, then followed his directions.
It had only been a day since she'd arrived. She wondered how she could've missed the pirates. Everyone talked about them, and she hadn't come across any.
Know who else she hadn't come across? Demi. She groaned, turning to another Hylian who was making his way up the river. "Sir?" she called, feeling a sense of hopelessness. "Sir? Can I ask you a question? Have you seen a boy, with black hair and brown eyes?"
"I don't think so."
"Please . . ."
Here we go again.