Kalo strode through the halls of the High Council. The only sound was the echo of his footsteps bouncing back from the walls. He paused before the doors of the inner sanctum, considering. The Council members wouldn't be in there, and nobody else was permitted access. Yet this was where the meeting was to take place.

Kalo would have much preferred a time and place of his own choosing, but the man he was meeting was quite insistent.

Hyrule was losing. Simple as that. This was the only thing left for Kalo to do. Their last hope of salvation. Any other path promised only complete annihilation. He didn't like it, but some things were more important. He had a wife and children to think about, after all.

Gathering his courage, he entered the sanctum. The man he was meeting was waiting inside.

"I am pleased you made it," the man said.

Kalo shrugged. "It was a little tricky getting here, for a good reason. You're not exactly popular around here, and I shouldn't be seen talking to you."

"Yes, that is most regrettable," the man replied. "It's a pity. They don't trust me, yet I hold the key to their survival."

"In more ways than one," Kalo added.

The man burst out laughing. "Yes, I do, don't I?"

Kalo's grin faded, replaced by a more serious expression. "What do you want me to do?"

"Listen. Wait. The time will present itself. It is imperative that you do not act too early, or too late. The timing must be exact."

Worry flashed across Kalo's face. "Are you sure there is no other course of action?"

"No," the man replied darkly. "There is none."

Kalo sagged, relieved. "Good."

"Mi'lady," Link attempted to explain. "You simply can't travel for three days in a bloodstained, ruined dress! Aside from attracting attention, it's simply too impractical!"

"Of course," Zelda replied coolly. "However, I'm not wearing those!"

She indicated a loose shirt and pair of leggings Sera had offered. Zelda turned back to Link, fuming. "I would prefer to travel in something a little more womanly, if you catch my drift."

"Unless you would rather wear my tunic, that's not going to happen," Link said.

"Besides," Zelda protested, "Going about cross-dressing is far more likely to attract attention than this dress!"

Sera frowned at this remark, for she was wearing an identical set of clothes to the ones she was proffering. She opened her mouth, and then decided better against it.

There was an almost audible snap as Link's last shreds of patience broke. "Look Princess," he snarled. "That dress is ruined and impractical as it is. You have two choices as I see it. You can either take Sera's clothes, or you can go naked. It's up to you which will attract more attention."

Zelda's mouth worked, but nothing came out. How dare he use that tone with her? Then she looked into his eyes and thought better of it. Something in his eyes said that it wasn't a good idea to go against him right now.

"Fine," she muttered.

Link gestured roughly. "You can change over there. I'm not setting up a tent again for you."

Without even looking back, he stomped over to Firebrand and Sera, rubbing his temples. His headache still hadn't gone away, and it was souring his mood. Firebrand nodded in the direction of Zelda. "Real piece of work, isn't she?"

Link made a face. "She's not that bad. It's just...a big change for her. She came face-to-face with death recently, and quite possibly worse."

Firebrand grinned. "I might just saunter over there and see what she's like."

Sera, who had been drinking from a waterskin, choked and burst out laughing. Link glared at both of them. "That's not funny," he growled.

Firebrand wiped away a tear of mirth. "Yes it is. The look on your face was priceless." A devilish look crossed his face. "Although I am curious..."

Link forced his face into a smile, although inwardly he was fuming at the pointless delays. First Firebrand had gotten himself tangled in one of the tents, and now there was the issue with Zelda's clothes.

Although Link's arguments were true, there was a third reason he wanted Zelda to change. Not only did he not want word of the princess traveling through the kingdom, where it could mutate into all sorts of ridiculous rumours, but it was likely that the Ferusari were hunting her down, possibly for use as ransom. And whatever had attacked earlier might still be out there...

Zelda emerged from the trees, leaving the destroyed dress behind. The clothes fit a bit loosely, Link noticed, but they would do. "One more thing," he added.

Zelda gave him a perfect "what now?" look.

"You know that trick you used to fool the...whatever they were?"

Zelda frowned. "You want me to disguise myself?"

Link shrugged. "Those things might still be looking for you. And, to be honest, I'm not sure if I can protect you."

Zelda nodded, a bit pale-faced. "Good idea."

She closed her eyes, concentrating, and her features slid slightly. Her nose lengthened slightly, and her eyes moved a little farther apart. When she opened her eyes, they had gone from blue to hazel.

In short, she was now almost unrecognizable

"Right," Link muttered. "That's going to take some getting used to."

Then louder, "Are we ready yet?"

Sera and Firebrand nodded. "Good. We've wasted enough daylight as it is. Let's go!"

Rell slammed his heels into the horse's heaving flanks, forcing it to run faster. The horse whinnied in protest, tossing its head, but kept going nonetheless.

Ganondorf's main army was in sight just over a league away. Unfortunately, the sun was already setting, making the timing dangerously close. Rell wasn't sure what would happen if he missed Ganondorf's deadline, and frankly didn't want to.

He was just over a kilometre away from the army when the horse collapsed under him. Rell tumbled off the horse, slamming into the ground. His wrist broke with a sickening snap as he tumbled into a boulder.

Gritting his teeth against the pain, Rell walked over to his horse, which was lying on the ground, sweat lathering its flanks. The horse's eyes stared sightlessly, and a trickle of blood dribbled from its mouth.

Without any hesitation, Rell drew his knife and swiped it across the horse's throat. The beast struggled for a moment, but quickly went still. Rell sheathed his knife, leaving the horse's blood on it, and turned toward the approaching army. The kill had been a mercy. The horse's lungs had given out, and it would have died anyway. At least that's what he told himself.

Holding his wrist, Rell walked toward the army. "Halt!" one of the chieftains called out. "You better be Ferusari, son."

Rell's mouth twisted in distaste as he recognized the chieftain. Tertus. The two had never liked each other.

"The great lord sent me to bring you to him," he announced.

Tertus frowned. "Why? What's the point? We're getting there."

"Yes, but not as fast as he wishes."

The chieftain shook his head. "There's no way to get there any faster. I'm afraid this was a wasted trip."

Rell smiled. "Actually, I do have a way to get you there faster."

"Really?" one of the other slavers asked, leaning forward. "Is it a shortcut?"

"Better," Rell said, withdrawing the stone spike from the pouch on his back.

"Have the men line up," Rell ordered.

"Line up!" Tertus bellowed, his call taken up by the other chieftains in the army. The command took several minutes to execute, Rell ruing each second that slipped by.

Finally, they were in place. "Let's go," Rell announced, pricking his broken wrist with the needle.

A small drop of blood oozed out of the puncture wound, sinking into the surface of the stone. In response, the runes on it blazed, swirling around more energetically.

"Just within the deadline," Rell said, glancing up at the sinking sun.

He paused, frowning. A strange coldness was spreading up his arm. He glanced down, and his frown turned into an expression of abject horror.

The trickle of blood from his wrist had turned into a flood, his arm turning white as the blood was drained from it. His heart faltered, then began hammering as the stone needle drained the blood from his body. In a panic, Rell attempted to yank the stone needle from his wrist, but to no avail. It seemed to be cemented in place.

Desperate, he slammed the needle against the ground, attempting to break it off, but, energized by the blood it greedily sucked in, it held fast. Giving in to the panic, Rell threw back his head and screamed even as the cold whiteness spread across his face and chest. His heart, starved of blood to pump, slammed in his chest one last time, and stopped.

Rell collapsed, the air in his lungs hissing out of his mouth, his skin almost completely white. The last few drops of blood in his body sank into the needle's surface.

The slavers stared in shock at the corpse in front of them. One forked a sign to ward off evil.

Then the runes on the needle blazed in a blinding nova of red light. The flash encompassed a good portion of the army, better than five thousand men, swallowing them up in a wash of crimson fire.

When the light faded, a chunk of the army was gone, spirited away by the blinding light.

Those

Krael spread some bean paste on a slab of bread, eying the plate in front of him. The chef really outdid himself tonight, he thought as he took a bite.

Many of the other slavers were also appalled at the lack of meat on the table. A few, like Krael, simply shrugged and ate what was in front of them without protest.

Krael shook his head, chuckling past the mouthful of food. Of course the fresh meat had run out. The slavers had been eating like pigs the last few days, without even a thought for rationing. Only now, with nothing but dried and smoked pork left over, did the slavers reconsider.

"Hey Krael,"

Krael looked over to Japith, who was gesturing to his plate. "You want my hummus?"

Krael shrugged. "Sure."

He was just reaching for the plate when a blinding red flash came from outside. Krael swore, dropping the plate, shielding his eyes.

"What the hell was that?"