Chapter 59: Where Legends Improvise

He was her father? She was his daughter?

He was the Dreamweaver.

SHE WAS THE DREAMWEAVER'S DAUGHTER?!

There was no telling how long Link had been standing in front of a visibly upset Janni, his face the perfection of shock: wide-eyed, slack-jawed, and completely frozen. Nothing made sense, although Link may have just been unable to connect the dots due to having his mind rendered a tuft of smoke. If Janni had not been so emotional the previous night, he might have taken this as a prank. It all felt too real. Link knew how to wake up from dreams; he did not believe he was doing anything wrong.

But why was this happening? If the Dreamweaver was her father, why was she so dead set on killing him? Where did things suddenly turn? After the last technoworks? What was so…?

Then he realized the problem. He had forgotten that she had been hurt when that shadow of him stole the Sorian sword and struck the Dreamweaver's shield. If the Dreamweaver controlled everything in the dream, then he had actually attacked his daughter and could have possibly killed her. Who would not want revenge after that? But her wanting to kill her father would be like Link wanting to kill Captain Alfonzo; as hard as Link's life had been under Alfonzo's command, ultimately, he would not be able to bring himself to hurt Alfonzo. And, in spite of her self-declared madness, there was a part of Janni that could still love her father.

This was bad. Link had to wake up. Even if he could not think of a way to stop the Dreamweaver, he could at least catch up to it; he had never doubted his crew's intelligence or capability, and, after the disaster with the Smiling Gunner, he had no reason to believe that they could not devise another solution to this problem.

Link shook his head clear of his shock and steeled himself, tightening his fist until his leather gloves groaned. "Janni," he said. Slowly. Deliberately. "You have to let me go."

Janni shook her head. "No-o-o, Link," she replied, her voice weak and trembling. "I can't. And I don't want to."

"Janni, trust me, I get what you mean," Link told her, taking a step toward her. "He's your father, and you don't want anything to happen to him. But… Janni, you've seen what he did here. You've been watching it for a hundred years. You can't just let it happen to more people."

Janni sniffed and clutched the Dreamweaver's device closer to her chest. "Yes, I can, Link. Those people don't mean anything to me. My father could whittle the life of every being in this world, and you would never convince me to harm him."

"Even though he nearly killed you in that last technoworks?"

Janni attempted to put on a smile, but the effort only caused her lips to tremble. "It was a mistake," she told him in a voice strained into a higher pitch. "It has to be. One hundred years, and he just happens to aim for me now? He must have been confused. You were confusing him earlier, you know. If you don't understand, he doesn't understand."

Link was not convinced she believed her own words, but he was not sure he wanted to confront her on the matter. She was in control of the dream now; pushing her could make the situation quite unpleasant. Instead, he asked, "Did the Obeetans deserve to have their lives stripped away? What did they do so wrong that you don't mind watching this happen all over again?"

Janni shrugged. "It doesn't bother me," she said. "I'm insane."

"Can you be insane and still defend your dad?"

"Why not? You don't know what it's like to be insane; what can you possible tell me?"

"For the past two days, you've been reasonable. You've been angry, but it's the closest you've come to behaving normal. Earlier, you were fine with my plan to ram the Conductor into the tower. And I think you're still fighting with yourself because you can't decide which way is right. You wanna save your father, but you also wanna kill him. Right?"

"It's much easier than that, Link," Janni replied. "He is my blood. Would you so easily condemn any other daughter defending her father?"

Link sighed, seeing that he was losing this argument. He had to get through to her. "Would you so easily live with your father if he killed me and my crew?" he asked.

Janni shook her head. "I don't care about your crew. Even if I like them. And you…" She put on a grin. A solid grin. Not her usual smile when she was being creepy, but a grin of mischief.

"You don't have to be killed, Link."

The knot in Link's stomach gave a fresh twist. "Wha-what do you mean?" he asked.

"You don't have to be killed. You don't even have to go anywhere." She turned a key on the Dreamweaver's device.

In the blink of an eye, Link and Janni were not standing on the rubble of the destroyed tower. Instead, Link looked around to see that the island had been changed into a beach. The ocean lay behind him, the moon's full form chopped to bulbs on the water's surface. Behind Janni was a stretch of grassland that disappeared over a distant hill.

And Janni… was not her usual self. Link recognized the older form Janni had taken before. However, instead of her usual clothing, she stood dressed in a sleeveless gown covered in a swirling pattern of black and navy blue. Her neckline, V-shaped and ending at her bustline to show off her well-endowed form, was decorated with rubies and diamonds. Her left arm was clothed in a navy glove that stretched past her elbow; her right wrist bore a green ribbon decorated with small roses.

"I intend to keep you here with me," Janni said, her voice lower and lustful once more. "You see, with my father gone, I can control the dream world now. I can keep you here forever. We can build our own world."

Link glanced around. Then he asked, "Why? I thought you were just keeping me here to stop me from going after your dad."

"Because I've fallen in love with you, Link."

Link's eyes became wide. He immediately thought of Layna's confession. And it caused his chest to beat in fear once more. "Wha-what?" he asked.

"I love you, Link," Janni repeated. "And… as callous as I may be toward the rest of the world, I cannot be as callous toward you. I've had no one else to speak to for a hundred years. To tell you the truth, I didn't really expect to feel like this when your ship landed. You didn't seem all that special. But then… you found my father's shield. My eternal vessel. I was a little surprised myself when you first woke up in the dream. And, as we spoke, I began to feel that I wanted more. I followed you throughout the day just to listen to you talk. I relished our conversations. And I thought that, if the Dreamweaver was gone, you'd focus more on me. It didn't really matter if you'd killed my father or not because I knew that, if I could just get my hands on his device, I could keep you here."

Link felt his breath become heavier. This was becoming too much for him. What was he supposed to do? He could not stay with Janni; he had his own life to lead. And the Dreamweaver was still getting away. So, he pointed out, "But, Janni… I'm not trapped in the shield like you. Wouldn't I eventually die?"

"I'm the daughter of the Dreamweaver, Link," she said. "Given time, I might be able to keep you in the dream even after your body dies. If not… it would be the only way I could end my own insanity. I would spend the rest of your life with you. And then… I don't know. Perhaps end my own life, now that I know about the sword."

Link turned away to hide the desperation on his face. He was convinced now that there was no way to be reasonable with her. He had to get out now! But how? Other than waking himself up, he could only wait for the dream to end. But, if Janni was right, this dream would never end. He dropped his right hand to his side, brushing the sheath on his hip as he did so.

The sheath?

The wheels in Link's head started spinning in another direction. He carefully turned, hiding his right side from Janni's view. "Janni, I can't stay here," he pleaded with her. "The kingdom is in danger. I can't let what happened to Obeeta happen to Hyrule."

"And when it does, you will go mad with me," Janni replied. "It isn't as bad as it seems, Link."

"Can you really expect me to be the same if I lose my mind?"

She frowned at him. "You're so devoted to those in pain. What about me, Link? Do I deserve to remain alone forever?"

Link heaved a sigh and said, "No, you don't."

"Then you'll stay?" Janni asked, a glimmer of hope coming to her eyes.

Link closed his eyes and focused his thoughts. Then, in one swift motion, he swung his fist hard into his chest, right where his heart was.

He felt his breath taken by the sensation of having the blade of his rigging knife plunge between his ribs.

"NOOOO!" Janni shrieked as he fell to the ground.

With that echoing through his head, Link jolted awake in his bed once again. His first thought was to get dressed as quickly as possible. However, the pain in his chest struck him hard as he reached for the edge of the bed. He missed placing his hand on the edge and tumbled out onto the deck face-first, just barely saving himself with his already outstretched hand. He collapsed into a heap on the floor and let the pain run its course. It gave him some pause to think of a plan.

His first thought was that they needed to catch up to the Dreamweaver. That would not be hard with the Island Symphony at full sails; she could easily outpace any ship in the company. But then what? He doubted he could ram the Dreamweaver; ramming only worked if something was holding the target in place, and the Dreamweaver most definitely was not that immovable. Did he dare try to ride the Dreamweaver like he had ridden Cunimincus two years ago? Ultimately, he decided against that; he had not liked it the first time, and he was going to avoid it this time. What did that leave him? After two years, he still had not seen fit to arm the Island Symphony. The only weapons aboard were his swords and Leynne's rifles. While the rifles were quite deadly, they would stand little chance against anything much larger than a Human. It would have to be a sword.

No. He realized that it had to be the Sorian whitesword. In fact, it was the safest way. He remembered that the Dreamweaver had left his device in the tower's ruins. All he had to do was retrieve it and then let Irleen use it to make a dream. This, in addition to his understanding of how the dream now worked, would ensure that he could fight the Dreamweaver on almost even grounds. He could only hope that the device was easy to find; if it was buried too far under, he would never be able to return in time.

When the pain in his chest finally subsided, he pulled himself to his feet and started picking up his gear. He needed to travel light. No flare gun, no rigging knife, no spare parts… he could do without a sword, too. The goggles were useless. He had no plans to go to the technoworks, so the blues harp could remain here as well. The Sorian bracelet he wore to increase his strength might be useful if he had to dig the device out. And the jumping feather, if nothing else because it was easy to put into his pocket. Aaaand… the lift reel just in case; he still had his tunic belt, so he latched it to that. Link found that it took him longer to decide what gear he needed than to actually put it on.

He rushed out onto the main deck and immediately rounded and took the stairs up to the quarterdeck. He had to check on the damage to the Conductor. If the technoworks blocks inside were only weakened, he still might be able to get away with piloting it himself. If anything, it would only take a minute to call up another crewmember to help him launch.

However, when he opened the boat deck, he quickly realized that he would not be taking the Conductor. The Conductor was pressed against the starboard side, its bowsprit jammed into the corner where hull, bulkhead, and deckhead met. He thought this to be sabotage until he remembered what he had cut the mooring lines with: the Sorian sword. The Conductor had been loose all night, and damage from crashing it into the tower had caused it to list to one side out of its supports until it had rolled itself to the side of the deck. The ladder and the supports lay on the floor, preventing Link from boarding to see if he could correct the boat. Link did not have the time to find his crew and set them to work putting the Conductor back where it belonged.

He would have to get there on foot.

Link slammed the door to the boat deck closed and immediately turned toward the island. With a running start, he leapt clear over the bulwark and fell. He only had a moment to realize that he did not know how big the gap between the island and the ship was, but it was rendered pointless when Link's feet found the ground. His lapse in concentration caused him to stumble, but he quickly recovered and set off at a run toward the settlement.

The sky was still dark and starry, and the lights were on in the settlement. Link could only guess how early in the morning it was. Had they even been fighting into the morning? Link needed a watch. It took him about ten minutes to reach the edge of the settlement, and he jumped onto the nearest house so he could hop from roof to roof.

And he quickly found this to be a little more time-consuming that previously. It made him miss his running boots. He now had to sprint across rooftops at his normal pace. Bounding from one to another felt so underwhelming and clumsy; even with his jumping technique, he still landed quite close to the edge and quickly began to fear missing the next roof entirely. His first jump onto a two-story building was even more frightening because he nearly struck the edge of the roof on the way up. He could only be glad that there were very few buildings with a sloped roof and none of them were in his path; the last time he had jumped onto a slanted roof, he had landed on a loose shingle and almost plummeted to the ground.

He had hoped that, as he approached the center of the island, the closer buildings would ease the effort he had to put into moving. However, it took a few jumps. While these buildings were taller, they were not always the same height. He had to ascend and descend between three- and four-story buildings almost in succession; when he could afford, he would choose a different building to one side in order to avoiding having to go up and over a single building just to drop back down again. He had to stop twice to rest, taking a moment to kneel and catch his breath. His legs burned. He had never had to move like this before. Not even the training sessions he had had with Layna had ever been this intense or urgent. He could only take some solace in the fact that dawn was giving enough of a glow that he could tell where the buildings were.

Unfortunately, that also meant that he was running out of time. How easily could the Dreamweaver move after all this time? Could he gain more speed than them in the Sky Lines? If so, the Island Symphony might not catch them.

… No. No, he could not let these thoughts manifest. He had to be able to catch the Dreamweaver. Even if he had to follow all the way back to Might Island, he would pursue and stop him. The Island Symphony was capable of opening enough sails that not even its broken mizzen-masts would slow them (although maneuvering would be a problem).

After his second rest, he still had to slow his pace further from exhaustion. He hesitated at the edge of the last few buildings to sight them up before jumping.

He stopped once he reached the edge of the plaza. He had hoped for a moment of relief upon seeing the tower smashed across the ground. Instead, he only felt his working heart beating in his ears. He made a mental note of the way the tower had fallen. As in the dream, the portico had crumbled around the base of the tower. Four floors at the bottom of the tower still stood; the rest of the tower had drawn a line of broken stone just a few paces away from the base and to the west, in the direction of the river. Some of the nearby buildings had collapsed, maybe just a few more than what he had seen in the dream. From where he stood, he could only see the break in the skyline where the tower had crushed part of the settlement; there were still too many buildings between him and the top of the tower.

Once he had had his break to look over the wreck of the tower, Link started toward the tower's debris by jumping rooftops. This seemed the faster way, given that he was becoming too tired to run. Still, his pace was falling. He was reduced to jogging across rooftops and steadying himself as each landing became harder. He only glimpsed once, but he knew the stars were beginning to fade to dawn. Although he had dismissed it earlier, he started to wonder if it would have been any easier to have his crew wrestle the Conductor out of the corner.

His descent to ground level upon traversing the rooftops up to maybe halfway to the end of the tower's debris was a disturbingly simple step off the edge of one building onto the remains of another. From there, he let gravity drag him down the slope the rest of the way and into the tower's debris. He felt himself gaining a second wind, and he started for the far end of the tower at a brisk jog. His footsteps were clumsy, a combination of fatigue and an uneven surface. Part of his pace felt as if it was simply him stumbling. He did not have the large piles of debris to tell him when he was close to the end of the tower's remains; he was amazed to believe that the Dreamweaver had still been fighting with the dream rather than raise its physical hulk and destroy the island.

It felt as if it was taking an eternity to reach the end. So, he was taken by surprise when, after stumbling at the top of a small mound, the debris shifted under his misstep and caused him to tumble forward. His hands took the brunt of the fall, pressing into the sharp brick and dust with only a pair of fingerless gloves for protection. It stung, and his knees remained protected by his trousers. He took a moment to adjust his legs so that he could sit back on his heels. He glanced at his palms only to see a few cuts on his fingers and a hole in his left glove. Then he looked up.

He had fallen into a crater. In a single heartbeat, he scrambled back to his feet and rushed to the center.

Krtch. His boot found something. While the crunch-crunch of broken brick and wood had followed him all the way through the debris field, this particular footstep sounded different. He immediately stepped back and dropped to his knees again. He grabbed pieces of brick and hurled them aside.

And the Dreamweaver's device lay just under the surface pieces. Being this close, Link saw that the metal body had received a number of scratches, although he was not sure if they were from the fall or just age. The dull light around him showed a steel frame, and the rods and wingnuts were copper. Notches had been added to the top (or bottom; Link was not sure which way was up) of each slot. It did not have any other labels, though. No sort of gemstone or other decoration, either, giving it a rather plain look in comparison to the blues harp he had found years before.

Light on building tops visible over the lip of the crater caught his eye. Not just any light, either. Sunlight. Link still had to get back to the Island Symphony. Trying to carry the device along would make his trek clumsier, so he took a moment to release his tunic belt. He dropped the lift reel on the ground. He slipped the belt through the widest slot and replaced the belt so that the device was set against his lower back. Then he retrieved the lift reel and hooked it back on.

He took a moment to catch his breath. And then he was out of the crater and traversing the debris field again in a matter of minutes. He could not maintain a jog as before; his legs ached too much, and his lungs burned from breathing so heavily. He reasoned that the Dreamweaver could not move incredibly fast even with the Sky Lines; he would only have a limited lead on the Island Symphony as long as the ship could depart as soon as Link was aboard.

Still, Link changed the way he decided to return to the Island Symphony. With his energy already taxed, he needed a shorter route. As the sun was coming up, he had no trouble knowing which direction the Island Symphony was moored in. The closest buildings were too tall for him to jump onto, so he would have to use the jagged surface streets. He alternated between a normal and a fast walking pace, giving his legs some means to recover. His sweat stung his eyes. For a while, it seemed like he had forgotten why he was walking; his fatigue was making it hard to concentrate. He was grateful that the Obeetans did not think much of hanging near the tower's wreckage, allowing him to navigate around the usual amount of street debris without having to bump into anyone.

He went for some time through these roads, long enough that the sun was peeking above rooftops by the time they widened into a more uniform path. Link still could not use the rooftops, but he was able to pick up his pace since he was not pushing running as much. Still no sign of the Obeetans, which, after a while, made Link wonder if they had gone back to sleep now that the Dreamweaver had fled. He certainly would not mind sleeping off a day or two once the Dreamweaver was dealt with. It gave him something to look forward to.

Once the buildings around him were short enough, he decided to hop onto the nearest one and speed-walk across the roof. He had to correct his bearings, but he could see just the tops of the Island Symphony's masts on the horizon, so he knew he should have been on the correct side of the island. He was able to pick up his pace again and leapt from building to building. He could taste how close his goal was.

Two more buildings…

One more…

There. Link had reached the edge of the settlement and hopped down from the last building. He stumbled upon landing, having pushed himself for those last few rooftops. He paused to take in a breath and gazed at the stern of his ship, ready to—…

Wait a minute.

The stern!?

He realized with horror that the Island Symphony was no longer docked. The ship was instead turned away from the island with its main sails open to catch the wind coming off Obeeta. His crew had decided to depart without orders, and he was not certain they knew he was still ashore.

"Uh, crap…" Link grunted through his fatigue. He reached behind his back for his flare gun, hoping they would at least notice him signaling from behind before they got away.

His hands fumbled around the Dreamweaver's device. Then he remembered. He had considered the flare gun extra; it was still onboard the Island Symphony! No boomerang to throw in hopes of alerting the crew with an odd thump, either.

Frantic, he started running as he searched his pockets. All he could pull out was the feather, the same feather that had let him bound across buildings only moments ago. He glanced at it, and then he looked up at the Island Symphony. From where he was, the ship looked like it was listing to port. This steered it toward the outcropping and the lighthouse upon it that he had been ignoring this whole time. If the Island Symphony drifted close enough, Link might be able to leap onto the deck; the ship was still low to the island as it usually would be when docked to allow boarding on the main deck. He would have to move fast.

He turned to the outcrop. He continued running, as fast as he could, across the open dock toward the departing view of his vessel. He had to catch up to them, or else the kingdom was doomed. He shifted the feather to his other hand; if he had to make a grab for the rigging, his left hand was better for it. What should have only been a few minutes' run felt like it took an eternity before he crossed the dock to the outcrop. He leapt up a few steps at the base of the outcrop. He would have shouted, but he could not be sure the crew would hear. The outcrop narrowed a bit before widening to accommodate the lighthouse with enough excess to make running around the lighthouse safe (relatively speaking; if anyone had been beside Link, a misstep could leave him tumbling over the edge). After rounding the lighthouse, he used the last of his strength to tear across a lengthy strip of smooth rock jutting out from the base of the lighthouse. He could see the full form of the Island Symphony's retreating stern now. He had to hurry, or he would never make the jump. A glimmer of hope came when he saw the port face come into view; his ship was steering to parallel the westbound Sky Line. Still low enough, but was it close enough?

When his foot hit the last bit of island, he jumped.

And he realized with horror that he was much too far away to make it. At the top of his arc, he used the split second of calm air to thrust his hand into the lift reel. Once it was off his belt, he raised his arm and fired blind as he felt gravity's pull strengthen. He fell below the keel, and he looked down with a scream welling up inside his chest.

Then his arm jerked. "Whoa!" he cried out instead when the lift reel tried to tug itself out of his hand. He dropped the feather and grabbed onto the lift reel's case as he began to swing. When he looked up, he saw that the blade had actually reached the Island Symphony and punched into the wooden hull ahead of the outboard masts. He waited with a breath held in anticipation as he swung under the keel and across to the starboard side. He watched as the keel went by again, and then he squeezed the handle to retract the lift reel. He had expected that he might be able to reach the outboard mast and pull himself up to the bulwark where he could climb over. However, even with all of his weight on the reel, he quickly discovered that the reel hardly noticed any sort of encumberment as he rose on a collision course with the hull of his ship. The combination of speed and angle tugged on Link's body hard, and he could do nothing to slow himself down. He only had a fraction of a second to realize that his swing was picking up momentum.

BAM! "Agh!" Link hollered when he felt his back, after his body swung upward, strike flat against the hull with the Dreamweaver's device jabbing into his waist. Upside-down, he had a vision full of sky and a head full of clouds.

He did not even perceive that, upon contact, the blade of the lift reel had dislodged. His head was not clear enough for him to get a handhold on the rigging just touching his fingertips. The impact had given his small body some bounce, leaving him no means to save himself from falling.

He felt a jostle in his leg that cause him to release the lift reel. Once he had the sensation that he was falling, he began to cry out. This was quickly halted when he felt a swinging motion begin. Because he was hanging upside-down, he had to look past his chest to see what was clinging to his ankle.

Layna had a hold of him, her other hand gripping the outboard sail's rigging. He looked up into a face that changed from a panicked look to a relieved smile upon perceiving her captain's eyes.

Link carefully allowed himself to dangle again as Layna began pulling herself up. "I love this crew…" he said to the retreating form of Obeeta.