Hey folks!
Posting this before I think too much about it.
Right, so, short chapter, but for good reasons. I wanted to tie up the end of the last little chunk of plot as a separate piece (that really should have probably been appended to the end of the last chapter, but whatever), in order to keep the flow of the story progressing in a fashion that doesn't irritate the Hell out of me. Also, by posting this now, it circumvents another six month wait while I try to deal with the flow issues, etc., that often accompany super-long chapters. Hopefully this chapter will be of a better quality than the last one. :)
Not that two months is all that great an update time. The usual excuses apply.
In other news: To any of you who frequent my website/forum: we've upgraded the forum and if you had an account you'll need to re-register. We haven't banned you. Nobody's been banned.
It's at the same address as always (www . fengs-shui . com / fsconnect), just remove the spaces, and I'm still posting updates/progress/snippets of the next chapter.
I think that's everything. As always, I hope you enjoy the read and it was worth the wait!
Rose Zemlya
"He who has a why to live can bear almost any how."
Friedrich Nietzsche
"You think we should say something to him?" Hunter asks me quietly, frowning at something behind me.
"Duthie?" I respond, craning my neck to look at where he stands with his back to us, leaning listlessly against a tree not too far in the distance. He got up and left half-way through my recounting of everything that's happened since Hunter got captured; right after I explained that Blind, the Cleric, and the fake Hunter were all the same person. I didn't try to stop him. As much as he didn't trust Blind, he trusted Blind (if that makes any sense), and it was yet another blow he didn't need right now. I turn back to Hunter and take a moment to feel horribly awkward. "I don't know," I say. "I don't think there's anything we can say."
"Hmm," says Hunter again. He shakes his head and lets himself fall back onto the ground, staring up at the slowly-lightening sky through the branches of the trees above us. "Sorry," he says. "This whole thing…it's a lot to take in."
"You're telling me," I snort. "I'm the one who's been through it and I don't even think I've come to terms with it."
"I'd feel better if we had a plan," Hunter notes. "I'm not quite so adept at flying by the seat of my pants as you are."
"We do have a plan," I say. "I told you. Step one, find a portal, get Laruto through it; two, free the rest of the maidens—"
"I wish you'd stop calling them that."
"—and somehow get them home through a portal. And three—"
"Wait, let me guess," Hunter says, "beat the living daylights out of Ganon."
"Well…yeah," I admit.
"That's what I thought," he says, and heaves a long-suffering sigh. "Link, no offence, but your plan sucks."
"What? Why?" I demand, momentarily offended if for no other reason than it's the plan I've been following all along.
"Well for starters," Hunter says, waving a hand at me from his horizontal position, "it's not even a plan. It's like…it's a list. It's a bloody 'to-do list.' Like, pick up some milk from Lon Lon, and don't forget to put the cat out. You haven't even considered how to do that, or taken into account potential problems and setbacks. I mean…do you even know how to get back to Laruto?"
"Not…exactly," I admit. "I figured I could work that out once I was ready to go back, you know?"
"Mm-hmm," Hunter says. "And how are you planning to find these portals?"
"Well, I…I found this one, didn't I!"
"Yeah," Hunter says dully, "assuming it even exists, and only because luck, as usual, was on your side. And besides, from what you've told me, since I've been freed, the seals will have snapped shut over it again, and it won't work, will it?"
"Well…no."
"And how were you planning on figuring out where the other maidens are?"
"I don't think you understand just exactly how desperate I was for any kind of plan when I made that up. I chose not to consider the details because if I had, I think I might have actually killed myself."
"You blow my mind sometimes, you know that?"
"You may've mentioned it."
"Good," he says. "Wouldn't want you to forget."
"Farore, Hunter, I'm glad to have you back." I say, forgoing my usual comeback in favour of the simple truth. I hadn't even realized how badly I had been hoping that the fake Hunter really was Hunter until I found out for sure he wasn't. I don't think I've ever felt so defeated.
But magic mirrors – at least my magic mirror – don't lie, and when he looked in Sahasrala's mirror it was his own reflection that looked back at him. I just about fainted with relief.
Hunter glances at me out of the corner of his eye.
"You're not going to cry or something are you?" He asks, rescuing us both from any impending sap. "'Cause that would be kind of embarrassing. I mean…more embarrassing than the whole…pink rabbit thing."
"Says the Maiden," I note wryly.
"You know, I could have sworn I told you to stop calling me that."
"You know, I could have sworn I didn't care."
"Bastard."
"Maiden."
Another long-suffering sigh. I offer him a tired grin.
"You didn't honestly expect me to let that go, did you?" I demand.
"Not really," he admits in a disgruntled tone.
"Especially given several things you've told me regarding the relationship between yourself and a certain red-headed ranch hand." I smirk. "Given that you're both here, I'm afraid I must assume that you have been bullshitting me." I expect him to colour and avoid my gaze, but instead he rolls over and offers me his own smirk.
"Well," he says, "I'm not the only one with stories, now am I? And given that all two of the girlfriends you've ever had in the entirety of your life are here as well, I'm tempted to think that perhaps I was not the only one bullshitting." I glare at him, thwarted.
"I…you…shut up," I snap in response, then drape my hands over my knees in what is decidedly a sulk. "Man. You could have at least given me a little more mileage off that whole Maiden thing before you snatched it out from under me."
"I would have been willing if you hadn't been so annoying with it," he points out. "It's your own fault. Besides," he adds, "why are we wasting leverage like that on each other when there's a certain red-headed Gerudo out there somewhere in a dress. I mean, seriously, a pink bunny and the title of 'Maiden' can hardly compare to that – especially if we coordinate our attacks."
"Assuming we can rescue her," I point out before I can stop myself. It's the Dark World talking, but I suppose the point is a valid one. Hunter, however, gestures dismissively.
"Bah," he says. "Just because you wouldn't know a plan from a to-do list if they walked up and bit you in the ass doesn't mean I don't."
"You have a plan?" I ask, almost eagerly.
"Not yet," he says with a wide grin. "But I will." A shadow falls over him and we both look up as Duthie comes to a stop beside us.
"I think the fighting's stopped," he says softly. "We should go find the others."
xxx
The streets of the little Dark World Kakariko are littered with bodies of all shapes and sizes – no few of them Moblin. Duthie shakes his head as we gingerly work our way through the town.
"This isn't good," he says grimly. "They'll have reinforcements in here by nightfall, and then we're really screwed." He looks like he's about to continue, but instead he stops short and blinks. Ahead of us is a row of what passes for houses around here, completely unremarkable except for the rather impressive – if hastily assembled – barriers erected all around them.
"I think we found them," Hunter notes, then adds under his breath: "Whoever 'they' are."
"Take one more step and you'll be eatin' fire," shrieks an all-too-familiar voice. "We've got more'n enough lef' ta take care of you!"
"Wandi," Duthie barks. "Cut it out. It's just me." A narrow-eyed face appears in the window, and blinks in surprise before the expression dissolves into a scowl.
"Feh," she says derisively. "An' where the Hell have you been, ezactly? While we was fightin' off the Moblins and being all holed up in here, doin' all the work?"
"Oh shut up, Wandi," snapped another, muffled voice from inside the house. "You haven't done any work since the killin' stopped. Just let the poor bastard in."
"Feh," Wandi said again. "Well…who's that wit' you?" She squints against the light behind us. "Aw for Din's sake, tell me that ain't that kid! What the Hell, Duthie! He better be in chains like Blind ordered!"
"Blind's dead, Wandi," Duthie snaps harshly. "He's dead, the kid's not in chains, and I'm coming in." He strides impatiently forward and Hunter and I exchange an uncertain glance before following after him. Contrary to Wandi's previous blustering, we do not, in fact, 'eat fire.' Instead, the door of the little house rips open and Wandi glares out, one hand on her hip.
"Whadda you mean, Blind's dead?" She demands. "There ain't nothin' that could kill Blind."
"It was God!" someone behind Wandi cries. A light, hollow, blunt sound follows the proclamation, and someone whimpers pitifully.
"Your God is dead too," Blind snaps, pushing past Wandi. "And the Cleric." There's a gasp from about half the people in the room. I raise an eyebrow. Looks like it's not just Blind's Thieves in here. There are definitely some of the Cleric's followers too.
"Uh, Duthie?" Hunter says. "Maybe you want to just be a touch more deli—"
"Hey!" Wandi snarls as Hunter tries to walk by her. She reaches out and grabs the font of his uniform, wrenching him around to face her. "Yer one of them Children!"
"Let him go, Wandi," Duthie says. "He's not."
"He is!" Wandi insists. "I seen him!"
"He's not," I insist. "Put him down." She makes no move to do it.
"Look," Hunter says coolly, backing his tone up with an unimpressed expression. "I'm really, really tired of people accusing me of being someone I'm not." He casts a deliberate look around at the battered group huddled in the house, then turns that look back on Wandi. "And no offence, but regardless of who you think I am, you don't look so well off that you can afford to lose a few extra pairs of hands – regardless of who they may or may not belong to." Wandi snorts, still glaring at Hunter, and I scowl at her.
"Unless you want it to be your hands, Wandi, put him down now." Her long, rodent nose twitches for a moment, but finally she shoves him unceremoniously away from her.
"Feh," she says. "Who died an' made you King?" I raise an eyebrow at her and open my mouth, but Hunter cuts me off.
"So…we're all kind of out of the loop right now," he says, throwing me a narrow-eyed glare before I can reveal something I probably shouldn't – not that anyone in here would believe me anyway. "Why doesn't somebody fill us in."
"Not you, Wandi," Duthie says wearily when she opens her mouth. "Ferran, you please."
"All right," says a guy I didn't even notice until he spoke. I jump and turn to look at him. He's old and warped, but most startling is the fact that he's partly transparent. "But first, is Blind really dead?" All the eyes in the room are on Duthie for a moment, until finally he nods.
"Yeah, Ferran. Yeah, he's really dead. And we're all fools, but your story first." Ferran chews that over for a minute, then leans back and shrugs.
"Not much to tell," he said. "We were waiting for the signal up on the hill, like always. It came and we started the raid. You should have been there! The cowards ran like children—"
"We did n—" There's the same light, hollow, blunt sound I heard before we came in and something round and pink flies over my head, wailing as it bounces off the wall and falls to roll along the floor again, coming to a stop at my feet. It's a little pink ball, but horrifically enough with eyes and a mouth. I raise an impassive eyebrow down at it – I don't think I'm capable of the emotions associated with surprise anymore – but Hunter – even with his Sheikah training, and forewarning about how the Dark World affects people – gives a start. The little ball whimpers.
"Stop doing that!" It moans.
"Stop whining," growls something from the back of the small crowd that sounds a lot bigger than the little ball.
"I'm sorry," I say, shaking my head incredulously, "I've seen a lot of stuff since I got stuck here…but I have to ask. Why a ball?" The little ball peers up at me morosely.
"Well," he says, "I think it's because I'm very indecisive. I can't ever make up my mind. I'm always, you know, bouncing around from one option to another, so…you know, I don't really want to talk about it."
"This is too surreal for me," Hunter says and turns around to walk over to Duthie and away from the little ball.
"Could you just…could you just pass me back to one of…to someone who isn't a thief?" The little spherical thing asks. "Underhand, please. I don't want to bounce."
"And I thought I had it rough," I mutter, doing as he asks.
"Continue, Ferran," Duthie says, looking more than a little irritated at the delay.
"As I was saying," Ferran says, glowering at the little ball, "the raid was going as well as it always does, except that Blind never came to join us. Then, a little ways into it, the Children we're fighting – they turn into Moblins!"
"Feh," says Wandi. "You know what I think?"
"Nobody cares what you think, Wandi," groans another thief from the back.
"She's going to tell us anyway I bet," mutters another one.
"I think they was always Moblins."
"She's right," Duthie cuts in before the group can start arguing again. "Ferran, for Din's sake, just finish the story." Ferran directs a frown his way, then continues.
"Well, that's pretty much it," admits. "They turned into Moblins and the fight became one huge ruckus. Some of the Cleric's followers smartened up when they realized they'd been following Moblins and joined our side of the fight. Some of them just stood there and died. Some of them are completely useless but the others wouldn't let us ditch 'em so we took 'em with us. We managed to push them back to the Woods, but they'll be back, and with reinforcements to boot. They were just the little Moblins, but I'd bet my life they'll bring the big mothers with them when they come back. We've fortified our position here as best we can and now we're just waiting for them." He shakes his head. "We were, uh, we were kind of hoping Blind would show up, but I guess that's out of the question now." Duthie shakes his head grimly.
"Ferran, you have no idea," he says.
xxx
By the time Duthie finishes explaining just how badly the proverbial wool has been pulled over the eyes of this town and its accompanying subterranean caverns (with occasional corrections from me, and muttered admonitions to the both of us to calm-down-before-we-incite-a-riot from Hunter), the eyes in the room are either as wide as dinner plates or nothing more than slits. Wandi's, naturally, are of the latter.
"Are you drunk!" She demands shrilly. "You expect us to believe that crock?"
"Do I look like I'm drunk, Wandi?" Duthie demands angrily. "Have you ever seen me drink? Is there anything in my posture, or demeanour, or personal history to suggest that I would be intoxicated?" She frowns at him; likely trying to figure out precisely what he means by "intoxicated".
"Feh," she says.
"I'm not making this up," he growls, his voice ragged and dangerous. "Why would I make this up?"
"The Cleric can't have been Blind," notes one of the Cleric's followers in a very small voice that suggests quite the opposite.
"He was," Duthie snaps. "The Cleric was Blind, Blind was the Cleric, the Children were Moblins, and we were all fools. He's been playing the two factions off one another to keep us in line and under control. He used those of you desperate for some kind of hope to galvanize the rest of us into rebellion, and used those of us who refused to convert to frighten you into worshipping even harder, and so the cycle continued until now."
"But…why?" Ferran asks, shaking his head. "It doesn't make any sense. Why would he—"
"Gannon," I say, cutting him off with a dark shake of my head. "It all comes back to Gannon. Gannon controls all but one of the Sentinels – you were worshipping one as your God. Gannon's tasked the Sentinels with maintaining order in the Dark World so he can focus on Hyrule. So the Sentinel used Blind and his ability as a Doppelganger to do just that. He threw in a couple of magic-using Moblins to complete the illusion of a priest hood and that was that."
"But…what about the raids?"
"And the Redemptions?"
"For show," Hunter says with a shrug. "The 'Cleric' always knew when a raid would happen because he was planning them. So whether they succeeded, whether they failed, it was all an elaborate act designed to keep hopes and satisfaction on both sides high enough to keep you under control, but low enough that you never started wanting more. They were to keep you in place."
"As for the redemptions," Duthie says, acid in his voice, "they were a hoax from the start. Can any of you think of a single time you ever saw the Cleric and the Redeemed on the stage at the same time? Of course not. Because the Cleric was the Redeemed as well. He'd just shift his shape. Have you never noticed that those who are successfully redeemed are always those who no longer have anyone in the immediate vicinity who knew them before the Dark World? That way there'd never be a reason to doubt that the redemptions were real."
"They were just another tool," I inform them. "Like the raids. Just a means of controlling you through your own emotions." Somewhere to my left someone buried in the crowd says a name I don't recognize and starts to cry. "Sorry," I say awkwardly.
"Why should we believe you?" Demands Ferran an insolent expression on his face that I've come to associate with Blind's thieves.
"Well where are they!" Duthie demands in return, his too-thin patience worn out entirely by their continued disbelief. His voice goes up a several decibels. "Where is Blind? When has he ever left us to hang like this! Where is the Cleric? Why isn't he tending his flock! Why are the Children all Moblins? Why is it you never see the Redeemed again? Why is it that we've been here, living in this wretched hole for the last twenty years, and nothing has ever, ever gotten better!" He tenses his hands and his claws tremble to their tips. "The only valid question here is how did we fall for it? Why didn't we see this sooner?"
"Duthie—"
"My brother's dead because of that liar! We both believed in him and Kilgan paid for it with his blood! And I'll pay for it for the rest of my miserable life, however long that may be. So believe me if you want, or don't if you're stupid, but don't you dare accuse me of making this up." A startled silence falls on the room for a moment. At last Wandi snorts.
"So," she says, in the first neutral tone I've ever heard her use, "yer sayin' we're on our own." Duthie deflates.
"Yes, Wandi," he says wearily. "That's exactly what I'm saying." A low murmur ripples through the crowd as they contemplate that and you can almost feel them giving up hope.
"Well," says Ferran, slouching even further, "I guess that's it then. We're done for." I raise an eyebrow.
"What?" I demand. "Done for? How does that make any sense?" Ferran gives me a look like I'm an idiot.
"Well I don't see any other way for this to end, what with us having no leaders to speak of and an army of Moblins barrelling down the road towards us."
"You're not even going to try?" Hunter demands. "You're just going to sit here and give up?"
"Farore," I mutter. "If we gave up every time there was an army of Moblins barrelling down the road to kill us, this place would look like Heaven compared to Hyrule."
"Well this ain't Hyrule, kiddies," Wandi sneers. "There ain't no happy endings here." I turn to look at Duthie, but am surprised to see the same defeated look on his face.
"They're right, Link," he says. "We can't defend this town. We don't stand a chance against the Moblins." I glare at him.
"What the Hell!" I say. "That's just the Dark World talking! You can't just—" Hunter cuts me off with a hand on my shoulder. I turn to look at him and he shakes his head and gestures back behind him. I turn around to excuse myself, but Duthie's already turned back around and is busy looking miserable, and Wandi and Ferran are heatedly discussing whether it's worth the effort to make a last stand just to be irritating. I shrug and turn back around to Hunter.
We take a couple of steps back so that we're just out of earshot of most of the people in the room and Hunter says in a low voice:
"Link, look around you," he says. "You aren't going to be able to convince these people to live through sheer force of personality. Not when they've already decided to die." He shakes his head. "Farore, these people have been dying for a long time already."
"But—"
"And they're right about the town. It's indefensible. They don't have enough people, or nearly enough resources. This house is the best they've got and it'll take the Moblins, what? Like…two seconds to get in here and brutalize them?" I cross my arms in a huff and glare malignantly at him.
"But—"
"And we can't stay to help them, even if they did decide to try fighting. Not with you changing like you do every night, and not with the others still captured and Hyrule still in danger. Our first responsibility is that, Link. Not these guys."
"But we can't just let them give up like this!" I explode finally, then cast a paranoid glance back over my shoulder to see if I attracted anyone's attention. Luckily for me, they're all busy staring at Wandi and Ferran, whose argument is growing heated as it ventures away from 'what's the point in making a stand' to 'yeah, well you're ugly.' I turn back to Hunter. "We can't just…they're not even going to try, Hunter." Hunter pulls back for a moment and gives me a narrow-eyed, piercing look.
"From what you've told me," he says slowly, "you've been having a hard enough time lately working up the will to try. And you've only been here a week. These people have been here for decades, Link. Decades. Whatever spirit they had, it's been crushed." But an idea is slowly forming in my brain.
"Well," I say slowly, "then we can't appeal to their spirit. But maybe…we can appeal to something else."
"Like what?" Hunter asks. Behind us Wandi and Ferran have gotten spontaneously personal in their argument and out of nowhere Wandi runs over and shoves Ferran roughly off his seat, sending him crashing into the floor. He responds by jumping to his feet and throwing himself at Wandi, dodging the hands trying to stop him. I let myself grin, just a little bit.
"Their Beasts."
xxx
"…it's classic hit and run tactics, but in this case, with a level of viciousness that you don't normally see. You're going to have to hit them fast and hard and be gone before they know what's happened. You can not afford losses. Not when they have hundreds to throw away."
"Feh. How do we know it'll even work?" Wandi demands with a frown, her rodent nose twitching in interest nonetheless.
"Because it's been done before," I answer her simply. "And by a bunch of kids no less."
"It's your best shot," Hunter says, pulling everyone's attention back to him. "Ferran's right, you can't defend this town. But down in the Caverns you might actually stand a chance. A lot of those tunnels are too narrow for them to swarm you, and even if they do know the caverns layout, you can rearrange that with a few well-placed explosions." I nod.
"You can booby-trap the Hell out of whatever passages you won't need, trap the Moblins down underground, barricade yourselves in with supplies if that's what it comes down to."
"Hell, even if the Moblins manage to trap you guys down there, if you're properly supplied you could still hold out a month, maybe even two. And if they don't manage to trap you down there, all the better. You can send up foraging teams and keep yourselves supplied for as long as it takes the Moblins to get in to you. There's about three hundred defensible positions down there, and every time they force you to give one up, you can just retreat to the next."
"What's to stop Gannon from just sending more troops?" Ferran demands. I offer him a feral grin.
"Me," I say. "That's part of the reason Hunter and I won't stay behind with you. Trust me, he's more concerned about his attack on Hyrule than he will be about a couple of rogues running around underground. And he'll be reserving the bulk of his force for Hyrule, if he hasn't already started sending them in. He won't want to waste them on you."
"Meanwhile, Link and I will be running around disrupting his plans in our own way."
"How?" Wandi demands.
"I think," Hunter replies carefully, "that you've got your hands full with your own problems. Trust me when I say you don't need to be worrying about ours." They consider this for a moment, and then apparently decide to agree with us (or else that they really don't care about whatever problems we might have). I open my mouth to say something, but Duthie interrupts me.
"Why?" He asks.
"What?" Hunter and I both say at the same time, turning to face him. He stares impassively back.
"Why?" He repeats. "What's the point? What are we getting out of this?"
"You mean besides your lives?" I say before Hunter can stop me, frowning at Duthie. Duthie shakes his head.
"And what good are those?" He asks softly. "Here? In this place? Great. So we get to continue living in Hell. I'm still not seeing an upside."
"Would you prefer to die forever in Hell?" Hunter counters, raising an eyebrow. "Or have you already forgotten everything you told me about ghosts? My mother died of a sickness. It certainly wasn't a pleasant way to go, but I think it rates higher than dying on the end of a Moblin blade. And if you do that, you'll be doing it for the rest of your afterlife." It's his turn to shake his head. "If you ask me, I think it's preferable to live for a bit longer, than die forever."
"Brat's got a point, Duthie," Ferran notes.
"Besides," I add, perhaps unhelpfully, "who doesn't like killing Moblins? Why the Hell would you give them the satisfaction of an easy kill?" But Duthie just shakes his head and retreats back into himself. I glare at him and open my mouth but yet again I'm cut off as Hunter gets to his feet.
"Duthie, can I talk to you in private for a minute?" He says. Duthie looks up at him, and raises an eyebrow, but gets to his feet nonetheless and follows him as Hunter leads him towards the back of the room. I stare after them for a moment, wondering what Hunter's up to.
"Well I'm in," Wandi says, abruptly forcing everyone's attention back to her as she leans back in her chair. Ferran gives her a withering look.
"Wandi you've been 'in' since they said, 'you'll get to kill Moblins.' Everybody knows where you stand."
"Least I'm standin' somewhere," she snaps back, glowering at him. "Not wailin' and quailin' like some little girl."
"Who's wailing!" Ferran demands angrily. "Farore you're offensive." Wandi snorts.
"Feh."
"Where do you stand?" I ask, giving him an intent look. He leans back in his chair and scratches his see-through chin.
"Well," he says, "I've been an asshole for way too long to change now. I don't see why we wouldn't take on the Moblins for as long as we can. It's not like things can get any worse than they are now, and I don't much like the idea of going without a fight."
"You could always run," Wandi suggests nastily. He scowls at her.
"Are you kidding me?" He demands. "Run where? Over with those Gerudo mutts? You know as well as I do this is the best place to be in the Dark World – though I use the term 'best' here in a relative fashion," he adds for my benefit. I resist the urge to throw a negligent glance around.
"I, uh, I figured," I tell him. "What was that about Gerudo mutts?"
"Never been west, eh?" Ferran notes darkly. "If you follow the road in that direction for a day or two, you'll eventually hit Misery Mire, but nobody with any brains ever goes there."
"Well, with a name like Misery Mire…," but Ferran waves me off.
"It's not the name," he says. "There's plenty of places here in the Dark World with names like that. The problem with that place is it's the territory of a pack of Gerudo, and they don't take kindly to any interlopers."
"'S true," Wandi says. "Sometimes they come up from their stinkin' swamp lookin' for food or prisoners or mebbe just to raise some Hell. I seen one of 'em tear a guy in half, once." She grins. "Never seen the likes of it ever again." I blink.
"Well…are they going to be a problem?" I ask. "I mean…this plan doesn't really account for a third faction ripping in here and tearing people in half." Ferran raises an eyebrow.
"Your plans usually do?" He asks.
"Some of them," I respond defensively. He shakes his head.
"Whatever," he says. "Anyway, it should be a problem. They never come underground. Don't like the caves or some such. We've never had a problem with 'em, it's just the Cleric's people."
"'Sides," Wandi adds, "they ain't no third faction. They's Ganon's faction."
"But I—" I cut myself off before I can finish that. If they're here that means they're not my Gerudo. They are, in fact, quite before my time. Which means they are, in fact, quite Ganon's Gerudo. Something unhappy sinks in my gut.
And they're probably Elite.
"Right," I continue before Ferran and Wandi can do anything more about my sudden lag than give me weird looks. "So, no west." I pause. "Unless…do you…is there a Sentinel over there?" Ferran blinks at me and Wandi frowns.
"Why?" She demands. "What the Hell would you want wit' one of them?" Ferran nods.
"They're worse than the Gerudo, Link," he advises. "Stay away from them. Mortal men aren't meant to mess with immortals. Look what happened to Blind." I sigh and shake my head.
"I might not have much of a choice," I say. "The Sentinels are between me and ruining Ganon's plan." Ferran leans back and scratches his chin.
"Well," he says, "there might be one down there. There's six or seven of 'em, anyway, I can't remember the exact number, and they've got the Dark World divided up in chunks. Going by sheer size, I'd say there's a fair bet there's a Sentinel somewhere down in Misery Mire."
"Hmm," I say. "Great. Sentinels and crazy Gerudo. Fantastic." I roll my eyes. "Urgh, whatever. That's my problem, not yours. So…how are we going to convince the Cleric's ex-followers to go along with this plan?"
"Feh," says Wandi, "like they have a choice."
"They've got the Skull Wood or the Dark Palace to one side, Turtle Rock above us, and Ganon's fortress of to the other side," Ferran says. "They can't run, and if they don't fight, they'll die." He sneers. "And they're not brave enough to die."
"I suppose," I say doubtfully, "but that's not much of a guarantee. There's got to be something else we can give them. Some extra incentive so we're sure they don't turn on you…."
"Leave that to me," says a voice from behind me. We all turn to look as Duthie and Hunter come back to the table. The misery in Duthie's face is inexplicably gone, replaced with a burning purpose. Behind him, Hunter looks almost…satisfied. Duthie meets my questioning gaze with a flat expression.
"I'm in."
xxx
Hunter's putting the final touches on a rough battle plan by the time the sun is low enough in the sky to start making me edgy. The thieves have managed to put together a rough map of Blind's caverns and have been running around "rearranging" passages and stockpiling their weapons and supplies. The Cleric's followers – led, ironically enough, by Duthie – are just starting to straggle back in, loaded down with food and other supplies scavenged from the town, and the fringes of Skull Woods. Since his talk with Hunter, Duthie seems to have decided to take charge of the Cleric's ex-followers, and none of them seem to question it. They need a leader, I suppose, and Duthie's willing to do that much.
I can't say I entirely understand where it's come from, but I've no doubt it has everything to do with Kilgan.
I turn my gaze back up to the sun, muffled and hazed through the thick, overhanging clouds.
I need to go.
I push myself back up to my feet and brush myself off.
"Hunter," I call as I jog up to him.
"…I just think that if we block off this one, we run the risk of getting hemmed in," Ferran is saying.
"Idiot," Wandi snaps with a sneer. "That's what we got bombs for, ain't you been listenin'?" Hunter grins at him.
"I hate to say it, but she's right," he says. "If you get hemmed in there, the wall here—" he points at a section on the map "—is more than thin enough that you can take it out easily, which will open up onto this area. Then you can run back this way."
"Hunter," I repeat.
"Just a sec, Link," he says, then looks at Wandi. "But be careful with the explosives," he tells her. "You'll need to use them sparingly, or you risk compromising the stability of the caverns as a whole if you take out an important support or something."
"Feh," says Wandi, and waves him off in a manner that is not particularly encouraging. He frowns and opens his mouth to fight with her some more, but I grab his shoulder and shake it to get his attention.
"Hunter!" I say. He blinks and turns to me.
"What?" I jerk my thumb over my shoulder to point at the sun.
"I need to go."
"Oh!" He says. "Damn. All right." He turns back to Ferran. "You're in charge of the Theives—"
"What!" Wandi shrieks. "Why him?" Ferran shoots her a smug grin.
"'Cause I'm not about to cave the whole place in on top of us," he says.
"Exactly," Hunter says. "Duthie will take the others. I've already spoken with him. Now, I know you guys aren't really into teamwork, but there's some measure of it going to be required here if you're really going to make the Moblins wish they'd never come after you."
"We may not be much of a team," Ferran says, "but if Blind taught us anything it was coordination. Don't worry about that."
"The Dark World will take care of the rest," Wandi says with a wicked grin, pointed teeth gleaming in her mouth. "Carnage we can do."
"Right," says Hunter thinly. "Well…good, I guess. You guys are on your own from here on out."
"Wait, what?" I say. Hunter blinks.
"Well…the sun," he says. "We need to go." I frown.
"No, I need to go," I say. "You can't come." He frowns right back and turns around to face me fully.
"What?" He said. "The plan was we both go."
"You never said that."
"Yes I did."
"No you didn't," I say. "And besides, you can't."
"Why not?" I stare incredulously at him.
"Um…'cause I'll eat you?" I respond. He raises an eyebrow.
"Not if I turn you into a rabbit first," he responds. "Trust me, you'll be too busy screaming at a painful pitch to eat anyone."
"But we don't even know how that happened," I say with a dark frown. "There's no guarantee—"
"We have a pretty good idea of how it happened," Hunter corrects me. "You're a lycanthrope, but your form isn't steady. It's based off your emotions, right?"
"I—that's what Anduriel said, yes."
"So, whatever it is you saw in the mirror scared you so bad you turned into a rabbit. Just make sure you're looking in the mirror when you change. Maybe it'll happen again."
"What if it doesn't?"
"Then think about the Witches, Link," he responds, his tone losing a bit of its light heartedness and taking on a serious tint. "Think about what's going to happen to Hyrule if we can't free the others. Think about the monsters under you bed. Think about whatever it takes to scare the daylights out of you. Think about whatever it takes to not be angry."
"It's not that easy," I say softly. "A lot of that stuff makes me angry."
"I know, Link," Hunter replies. "But we can't find the others if every night you change and run off. As it currently stands you have no idea where you actually left Laruto because of the fact you changed into the Beast and ran in some unknown direction. And I can't save them alone. It's going to take both of us."
"I know that," I say with a frown. "But you don't understand. If this doesn't work, you won't get the chance to run. You've seen what the Beast is like. You saw what it did to—you know." I throw a wary glance up at Ferran and Wandi who are watching our exchange with rapt interest. We neglected to mention exactly how it was that Blind wound up dead since we weren't sure how they'd react, and I'm still not sure it's a good idea for that particular detail to come to light.
"And that's why we're going to lock you up in a stone room," Hunter responds. "You were busy with Duthie, but I asked Ferran to find a solid room you won't likely be able to break out of if it goes wrong. If we can't turn you into the rabbit, then I'll stay for tonight and when you change back, you and I can try to make a break for it tomorrow night."
"What if I get out?" I demand. Hunter raises an eyebrow.
"The room is far enough away from where we'll be, no worries there. And by the time you manage to get out, the Moblins will have arrived. And there'll be more than enough of them to keep you busy 'till sunrise." I frown at him.
"I don't like this plan," I say.
"At least," Hunter notes, "it's actually a plan." He glances over my shoulder. "And you're out of time to fight with me." I open my mouth to say something, but it drops open a moment later when I realize I've been had.
"You bastard!" I cry. "You didn't tell me about this on purpose! You wanted to make sure I had no choice!" He offers me a smug grin.
"Like I said," he says, "maybe I can't fly by the seat of my pants like you, but give me enough time to think my way through it and I can usually find a way." He claps me on the shoulder. "Now come on. Time to head for the room to give you and the mirror some quality alone time. Also, we're going to put a net over you before the change." He shakes his head. "I'm not chasing you all over the place again." I fall into a disgruntled silence, but I let him lead me towards the room. He's right. I don't have time to fight with him anymore.
"If you change into the rabbit," Hunter says as we move back, "I'm putting you in a sac, slinging you on my back, and we're heading out before the Moblins arrive. We're going to have to set up some kind of system for resting, because unlike you, I'm going to need to sleep every now and then, but for tonight, we'll be fine. The only question is, which direction do I head? Do you remember anything about where you left Laruto?" I shrug.
"I already told you, no," I say irately. "Nothing about the direction. I know there was a freaky orchard with tress that used to be people, and a weird palace or something. And a giant freaking Maeasm, but other than that, no."
"That's the Dark Palace," Wandi says. I roll my eyes.
"Are you still here?" I demand, giving her a disparaging look. She smirks at me.
"I want to see this Beast of yours that's got you all worked up," she says. "Feh. If you ask me, you got off easy. Bitchin' and moanin' while the rest of us gots to stay all deformed all the time instead of just half the time." I glare at her.
"Well we'll see how easy it is when I'm ripping your throat out with teeth that put Duthie's claws to shame," I snap.
"Relax, Link," Hunter says. "You're supposed to be trying to scare yourself, remember?" I sigh and turn my attention away from Wandi.
"'S not my fault the Dark World is full of irritants," I mutter.
Hunter finally comes to a stop in front of a thick stone door that he pulls open only with an effort.
"After you," he says, offering me a florid bow.
"If anything goes wrong…" I say.
"It won't."
"But if it does…"
"Relax, Link," he says. "I won't let you hurt anyone." I hold his gaze for a moment, trying to decide whether that's a promise he can actually keep or not. In the end, though, it doesn't matter. It's the only plan we've got, and it's too late to do anything about it. I turn without another word and proceed into the room.
Farore, I hope this works…
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
A Brief Interlude
"So…how do I get to the Dark Palace?" Hunter asked as he and Ferran hefted the heavy wooden bar into place over the door. "Is it far?"
"Not very, no," Ferran answered. "Maybe a day from here, if you've only got two legs. It's East as the keese flies, but you'll actually have to head south east and follow along the edge of the mountain lines to get at it."
"Are there any paths over the mountains?" He tested the bar with his weight to be sure it was sturdy and would hold. Wandi snorted.
"You'd best get one thing straight, boy," she said derisively. "There ain't no 'paths' around here, 'cept those built for no good purpose."
"And the mountain's no good for travelling," Ferran added. "There's rockslides, carnivores, and a never-ending storm at the peak. Nobody travels the mountains. Go southeast. And Wandi's right," he said, "avoid the paths. They're either traps, or else they're used by the Moblins. Either way you're best to take your chances with whatever comes your way off road."
"Right," Hunter said. "Southeast it is, then."
"So how long we have to wait, anyway?" Wandi demanded, jerking her thumb over her shoulder to indicate the door.
"Until sunset," Hunter answered, and dropped into a seated position on the ground. It was at least another twenty minutes until sun down, so he figured he might as well get comfortable. Ferran followed suit and Wandi leaned up against the wall with an irritated, "Feh."
Her head was nodding suspiciously towards her chest by the time Link started screaming. She jerked awake and Ferran and Hunter both straightened. Wandi's lips split into a feral grin over jagged teeth.
"Sounds like somethin's tearin' him apart in there, eh?" She said. Hunter took a moment to decide, quite completely, that he didn't like the shrew woman one bit, before turning his attention back to Link. He strained his ears, listening intently.
"No howling," he prayed under his breath. "No howling, no howling, no howling."
A few moments later the screaming subsided. It didn't meld seamlessly into a howl. It didn't continue on as a howl. It just subsided. Hunter held his breath and listened for a moment more.
"Did it work?" Ferran whispered. Hunter frowned.
"I don't…know," he said. "He's not howling, so it must have, right?"
"What if…what if it's trying to trick us?" Ferran asked. Hunter's frown deepened. He hadn't thought of that.
"I don't think it can…"
"Well whatever it is, it's squeakin'," Wandi informed them, rodent ears twitching furiously as she listened. "I don't think it's a wolf." She actually sounded disappointed. Hunter spared her an unimpressed glance then got to his feet.
"Only one way to find out," he said. "Help me get the bar off, but stand ready with it, just in case…." This was not, he had to admit to himself, his best plan ever. "You're going to have to help this time, Wandi."
"Feh," she said, but got into position with Ferran and helped him lift the bar and move it out of the way.
"Here goes nothing," Hunter muttered and pulled at the door, opening it just a crack. He leaned forward and put his eye to the crack to peer in. "Link?" He couldn't see anything but the end of the net Link had tied around himself. "Link?" Something squeaked at him. Relief blossomed in his chest and he pulled the door wider so he could get a better look.
Huddled in a tangled mass of net in the farthest corner from the door was a tiny, pink rabbit with painfully blue eyes.
Hunter let out a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding. "All right, guys," he said. "You can put the bar down. It worked." He pulled the door open the rest of the way and moved into the room, ignoring the rabbit's frightened protests at his incoming proximity. He leaned down and scooped up the magic mirror as he went, before approaching the net. Ferran and Wandi walked into the room behind him. Ferran grinned a little bit as he looked down at the petrified rabbit.
"Wow," he said. "That's gotta be embarrassing." Hunter's mouth twisted into a grin.
"Yep," he said.
"Boring," Wandi pronounced, then turned around with a huff. "Shouldn't we be doin' somethin' about our plans?" She demanded as she exited the room.
"She's right," Hunter said, dropping into a crouch with his pre-prepared sac. "You guys don't have much time left until the moblins arrive. You'd better get out and finish giving whatever instructions you need to give."
"All right," Ferran said. "Just make sure you keep up your end of the bargain. We can't do much if Ganon decides to do something about us." Hunter grinned at him as he finally managed to extricate the rabbit from the net and shove it – kicking and screaming – into the sac.
"Don't worry about that," he said. "Link here's kind of an expert at attracting Ganon's attention. We'll keep him nice and occupied for you." He pulled the sac tightly closed, then pulled the struggling package onto his back. He turned to look at Ferran. "There, uh … there is something you can do for us in exchange though." Ferran raised an eyebrow.
"I knew it," he said. "Nothing comes free."
"Just be ready," Hunter said, "that's all. We don't know everything yet, about what's going on and about how our own mission's going to end. I'd be happy knowing that we've still got you lot to count on if we need some heavy-duty backup at some point."
"Hmm," said Ferran, "well, we're all a bunch of dirty double-crossers so it wouldn't do you much good if I committed one way or another, but I'll say this much: with the right motivation, we'll take on just about anything, and there's more than a few of us wouldn't mind sinking our teeth into Ganon's throat."
"I'll keep that in mind," Hunter said. "Good luck. You're going to need it."
"Heh," Ferran said with a grim smile. "We'll be just fine. It's you two that are going to need luck. Remember, stick to the southeast until you're past the mountains."
"Can do," Hunter said, and turned to go, but Ferran caught his shoulder.
"Wait," he said, "before you go…" Hunter turned around to face him. "What did you say to Duthie?" He asked. "To get him to help out?" Hunter offered the transparent man a quirk of an eyebrow.
"I didn't say anything," he said. "I just promised him something."
"Promised him what?" Ferran pressed.
"Vengeance," Hunter replied. "And maybe, at the end of it, absolution."
"Absolution? For what?"
"Anyway, I have to get going," Hunter said without answering Ferran's question. "If I don't leave now I'm going to run straight into the Moblins and that's not going to go well. In case we don't see each other again, good luck. Tell Wandi—Scratch that. Forget Wandi. See you around."
"What? No message for Duthie?"
"We said our goodbyes before he headed out to scavenge," Hunter replied. "Just tell him we said goodbye."
"All right," Ferran said. "Again, good luck. You're going to need it."
"We usually do," Hunter said, then waved a hand in farewell and turned to head out of the room, and then the caverns. Ferran turned the other way and followed after Wandi, who was no doubt already trying to usurp authority over the group. Hunter wasn't sure if they could handle the plan – he hadn't had nearly enough time to get a feel for the dynamics of the group – but it was up to them now. Either they would, or they wouldn't, but they were no long his priority.
We're going to have to pick up Laruto first, he thought to himself as he stepped out into the hazy twilight. I don't want to drag her around – Acqul's going to kill us if he finds out how much danger we put her in – but we need to get her through a portal and back into Hyrule, and we can't do that if we rescue the Maidens who are keeping the portals open, thereby closing the portals, and I know we won't be able to walk away from rescuing one of them, so there's nothing for it. He frowned unhappily. We don't know enough about this place. I don't even know what we're getting her into and we don't have the time to find out.
"Maybe we can bribe her into not telling her parents anything," he mused out loud.
"Squeak," responded the rabbit from the confines of its bag.
"Shut up," Hunter responded
He forced his mind away from that particular predicament, and it drifted back to Ferran's questions and what he'd told Duthie. For all their differences there was a lot in common between himself and Duthie. They both wanted the same things: vengeance and absolution. If he accomplished nothing else before this wretched world claimed him, Hunter intended to accomplish that. For Bruiser, and now, for this Kilgan he'd never met. How he was going to accomplish that was another matter entirely, and quite beyond him.
He passed the outskirts of what remained of the little town and turned his feet southeast, keeping his eyes on the mountains not too far in the distance.
I'll find a way, Dad, he promised. I swear it.