Notes:

So this was supposed to be twice as long, but the chapter was way too busy and I cut it in half to manage it better. The good news is, this means I have the NEXT chapter 3/4 written already. The bad news is I will need to rethink how I approach it a bit. So it'll probably be a faster update next time, but by how much I don't know. ^^

Side note - I recently joined Tumblr. rosezemlya dot tumblr dot com if you're interested. rosezemlya dot tumblr dot com slash loz-rr if you want the RR related stuff.

Thanks all! I hope you enjoy the read and it was worth the wait!

Rose Zemlya

"Home is a name, a word, it is a strong one; stronger than magician ever spoke, or spirit ever answered to, in the strongest conjuration."

~ Charles Dickens

"I hear the wind across the plain,

A sound so strong, that calls my name.

It's wild like the river, it's warm like the sun,

Yeah it's here, this is where I belong.

[…]

And wherever I wander, the one thing I've learned,

Yeah, it's to here, I will always – always – return."

~ This is Where I Belong, Bryan Adams

A Brief Interlude

"It's been over 24 hours since I found Impa in the Dark, and she has yet to wake." Darunia's face was the grimmest the dwindling Sage's had ever seen it. "We are in trouble, friends. That's two Sages and a Hero trapped in the Dark World, one Sage locked here in the Sacred Realm, and one removed from action by an unknown ailment we can neither isolate, nor cure. We're running out of Sages at a time when Hyrule desperately needs them."

"That's not our only problem," Nabooru noted, scratching at a dark gash on her cheek. "The Moblins took down the old man's shield last night and we don't know how. Little insects were all over the fortress. We think they're bringing in something else from behind the seals, but we don't know what."

"Not good news," Rauru said darkly, "given what Darunia says about the waiting game the Moblins in Kakariko are playing. The two may be related."

"To say nothing of Impa's condition," Ruto pointed out. "It can't be a coincidence. The woman has never been sick a day in her life. I've seen her take wounds that should have killed her outright and watched her keep fighting. This has to be targeted."

"Since when are Moblins good enough to target and poison Sages? Let alone the Sage of freaking Shadow?" Nabooru demanded.

"Since twenty-four hours ago apparently," Ruto responded sharply. A tense silence fell as the group considered that. Nabooru looked around the circle at the empty sigils reserved for their missing or fallen companions and some of her doubt was replaced with unease.

Ruto's expression softened. "At any rate," she said, "things at LakeHylia are going well enough, except now they're attacking our land forces."

"How?" Darunia asked, surprised. "I thought they couldn't leave the water."

"They catch fire and explode when we drag them up," Ruto said with a sigh. "But our efforts to prove that that's conclusively what happens seem to have inspired them. Now they surface long enough to get enough fire in their throats to spit balls of it at us before ducking under again. I can't imagine how painful it must be for them, but that's never stopped them from any other fool thing they try. Other than that, the battle hasn't changed much. They don't appear to have received any additional reinforcements from the Dark World for weeks. They throw themselves at us and at the wall, but they haven't passed it yet, and since we know they can't bypass it on land, we're holding back more. They're trapped. No sense in losing more lives if they can't get out."

"Could you spare any troops to support Kakariko? The battles in the passes have taken a toll."

"I would need to confirm with Acqul, but that may be an option, as long as we're sure nothing else is going to get into the water. With all due respect, Big Brother, your people are fierce, but they can't fight an underwater foe."

"Has anyone heard from Castletown?" Rauru asked.

"No," said Darunia with a frown. "Impa was coordinating that effort through Brayden. I was not privy to the details of their strategy, and I'm afraid to disrupt his activities by checking in. And, to be honest, I'm needed in Kakariko – especially with Impa down. I think we may need to leave them to their own devices – I can barely spare the time to be here."

"Same," Nabooru said unhappily, and Ruto nodded reluctantly. The Gerudo leader got to her feet and brushed her knees off. "If we're all caught up, I really need to get back. There's a pile of dead pigs waiting to get shipped back to their friends in pieces, and funeral pyres to build from their bones. And for all I know they're attacking again as we speak, so…."

"Go," said Rauru wearily. "All of you. Return to your people. Report back when you can."

Nabooru and Darunia nodded and vanished with the customary light. Ruto stared at the spots where they'd been for a moment, something tired and flagging in her face.

"Ruto?" asked Rauru, concerned.

"We're not enough," she said. "Not so few of us. Moblins in Gerudo fortress, the waters of LakeHylia violated with aberrations…I'm afraid to know what may be happening in the Lost Woods, Impa fallen ill for no reason, and traitors in control of Castletown. We can't keep up with it. We need the others. Saria, Zelda, Impa…even Link."

"It is my belief that Link is doing what he can on the other side," Rauru responded. "It would explain the stemming of the flood in certain areas if he had managed to close the portals from the Dark World. As for the Sages…we will just need to ensure that we don't lose any more of our number before they can be retrieved." His eyes were old and wise and serious. "Be careful, Ruto. Guard yourself. Now go. Report back to your people. They need you."

She nodded and disappeared as the others had, leaving Rauru once more alone.

xxx

The stairs of KakarikoVillage loomed before Mido like the icy carapace of some frozen death god. They were covered in snow, and beneath that he knew – had, in fact, learned the hard way – was ice. Ice, ice, and more ice. Slick and treacherous and demonstrating extreme prejudice against small mules and smaller boys. He wondered, as he inched slowly upwards on hands and knees, why the people who lived in the town had not cleared it after the blizzard. Surely it was no easier for them to get up and down these steps. Surely there were other mules and little boys in the town who needed to navigate this entryway.

Perhaps, he thought, the stairs were a test. He knew from Link's stories that there was a secret temple hidden somewhere in Kakariko village. And everyone knew the Sheikah lived there, and everyone knew the Sheikah loved testing people. So maybe the stairs were left icy in order to keep out the weak and unworthy, and everyone knew that Mido was neither of those. He was a Kokiri Knight – the Kokiri Knight! – and it would take more than stairs and ice to stop him!

Which wasn't to say they weren't going to slow him down to a significant and frustrating degree.

And also that the mule wasn't going to consistently make things even more difficult by balking approximately every three steps and jerking on its ropes and making Mido slip and fall a hundred times at least.

And also that by the time he got to the top the snow wouldn't be down his boots and under his coat and frightening him just a little bit with the memory of being so cold you couldn't move or speak or even think.

But the point was that he made it to the top of the stairs – dragging the mule the last few feet – and he had beaten their silly test and had proven himself worthy. He was so busy wondering whether that made him an official Sheikah or not – he thought he'd make a good Sheikah, personally, and certainly a better one than Link who couldn't even effectively sneak cookies out of jars – that he didn't immediately notice the strange light flickering just around the rocky bend.

It wasn't until the mule began to bray loudly and dug its hairy hooves into the snow and balked the biggest balk of them all that Mido stopped took a moment to understand what it was he was seeing.

That…looks like fire…

This was right out of Link's stories too. About rounding the corner into Kakariko only to see the whole town lit on fire by a big bad monster with two hands and a huge eye and a really big drums and no arms (like that was believable – along with not being sneaky, Link was also a horrible liar. He was the worst Sheikah ever). And Link and his Sheikah friend (who was really a Princess in disguise) had put the fires out and saved the town and everyone thought they were heroes.

Mido pulled himself up to his full height (an impressive four feet and four inches) and puffed out his chest. He was a Sheikah now. It was time to make like a Hero.

The giddiness he felt at finally being able to legitimately use Link's favourite line evaporated almost instantly, however, when he rounded the corner.

It wasn't just a few buildings on fire, it was half the town. And it wasn't one monster, it was many – skinny, ugly, crooked-sword wielding moblins. The stench of them mingled with the smell of burning wood and flesh and spilled blood and open fear and Mido staggered and gagged. The moblins were chasing the townspeople through the streets, and the people were confused and hurt and terrified and suddenly Mido was all of the above too.

But before he could panic and turn to run, he remembered where he was. He remembered his mission. He remembered his solemn oath to the Great Deku Tree Sprout, and to the man with the sad green eyes, and his duty to all of Hyrule.

He wasn't a Sheikah. He was a Kokiri.

And monsters or not, he had a job to do.

xxx

"Well that's the stupidest story I've ever heard in my entire life." She pulled irately at the red curls stubbornly refusing to straighten under her un-gentle ministrations.

"Yeah," said Hunter. "Me too. And I lived it."

"So we're stuck here, is what you're telling me," Neesha summed up.

Hunter raised an eyebrow at her. "That was maybe zero point zero zero five of what I told you, but yeah. That is definitely a thing I am telling you."

"Can we get through the portals?"

"Only if we don't rescue the maiden powering it," Hunter said. "Which isn't really an option."

"Stop using that word," she said, making a face. "It's offensive and annoying."

"I made that argument," he noted neutrally, "but was vetoed."

"So what's our plan, here? Rescue the people who are captured and figure out how to get home later? What do we do with them after we've rescued them in that case?" She debated, briefly, just cutting the offending locks off. If they would not uncurl, perhaps more drastic measures were required.

"Link seems to think his makani friend can take care of them if we can get them to her. Also, stop pulling at your hair. The rain will take care of it when we go out."

She growled darkly but set her hands down. "Why wouldn't we figure out how to get home first?"

"Because leaving them in their crystals means leaving the portals open to Hyrule means aiding and abetting the moblin invasion. We don't know the situation there, but it can't be good. We can't leave those portals open if we have the chance to close them."

"Who's left to rescue?"

"Goron-Link, Saria, Malon and Zelda."

"So useless, useless, useless, and super useless."

Hunter frowned at her. "That's hardly a fair assessment."

"Two little kids and couple of Hylian women. Oh yay."

"Two sages," Hunter corrected her, "and Goron-Link isn't that much younger than you, Miss I'm-An-Adult-Now-Stop-Pestering-Me."

"He's not a Gerudo, is he?" she demanded. "And Saria might be a sage, but she's still a little kid. Also, does that mean you admit that Malon is useless?"

"It means I admit her skills are not suited to this type of venture," he clarified. "And I grant you that Goron-Link is still too young and untrained to be much help. I respectfully disagree on the subject of the sages. Sages are very useful things."

"Oh yeah, the Sage of the Forest. What's she going to do? Make the grass grow? Oooooo! I'm shaking." She leaned forward on her knees in a pose that looked ridiculous in the pretty green dress she wore. Her expression was thoughtful. "I suppose Zelda's not entirely useless. The whole telepathic thing with Link might be useful in the right circumstances, and telekinesis isn't bad. Also," she added, "she did draw Link that map."

"What map?" Hunter asked. "I don't remember a map."

"It was after you got captured like the Hylian Princess you are," Neesha noted.

Hunter snorted. "At least I didn't swoon into a faint under the flirtatious attention of Lord Eldrick the Younger."

Something dark and dangerous settled into the centre of Neesha's face. "You have exactly three seconds to take that back before I shatter your spine."

Hunter raised his hands peaceably. "My mistake then," he said, maintaining his straight face with an effort. "It's the dress. It's confusing me."

"Yeah, I'll bet," she snapped.

"So…this map?" he reminded her.

She scowled at him, but shrugged. "I'm surprised you're not using it. Zelda had some kind of vision and drew it for Link while she was in the dungeon at the palace. Had Marni deliver it to us. Which is, you know, how this happened." She gestured disparagingly to the dress and the nowhere-near-as-straight-as-she-wanted-it-ponytail.

"Why would we be using it? What was it a map of?"

Neesha cocked her head to the side and narrowed her eyes suspiciously. "A creepy, evilified version of Hyrule with a swamp where the desert's supposed to be. Why wouldn't you be using it?" She frowned, then leaned back and crossed her arms. "Unless, of course, you've never seen it."

"A map of…," Hunter repeated, giving her an incredulous expression. "We have a map of that? Where is it?"

"Link put it in his pouch and evidently forgot he'd ever seen it," she answered, rolling her eyes. "It's probably still in there."

Something in Hunter's expression went sideways and he could not think of a single thing to say in response to that. Before Neesha could prod him, however, the tent flap flipped open and Apheri strode in. She had a neatly folded bundle in her hands.

"Sorry it took me so long," she said. "I couldn't remember if you were Red or Purple so I brought both. I thought Link said Red, but – no offence – you seem really young for that."

"I am really young for that," said Neesha flatly, holding out her hand for the red uniform. "But that doesn't change the fact that I earned it, same as everyone else."

Apheri's expression suggested that she was wondering what had happened to the standards of her sisters in her absence, but she shrugged and handed the scarlet uniform over. Neesha immediately got to her feet and proceeded to pull Marni's dress off as gently as she could manage; no mean feat given the strength of her desire to be free of the impractical garment. Hunter, to her mild surprise, did not appear to notice. He was distracted by some internal struggle.

She set the dress on her chair and picked up the uniform. She supposed it had served its purpose well enough, and she didn't imagine Marni had enough money to just replace it if she ruined it. She didn't want to have to buy the girl a new one, because she was sure in Hylian-speak that would mean they were just the best of friends, and the thought curdled her stomach. Better to just return the one she was loaned in one piece, with a curt "thank you" and a "never speak to me ever again."

Though the new uniform was not as comfortable as her own, it was worlds better than the dress had been. "Farore," she growled as she settled the small pouch she wore as a necklace when travelling under her shirt. "I can move again!"

There was a crash from the opposite side of the tent where Hunter had suddenly and viciously kicked Link's bag across the space, sending its contents scattering everywhere. Neesha and Apheri turned to stare at him in surprise, taken aback by the expression of extreme outrage on his face.

"He has a map?"

xxx

The crate landed with an echoing rattle, and the painfully small band of rebels stared at it with expressions ranging from curiosity to dread. "If we're going to achieve anything, here, we need to know what we're starting from," said Brayden, and he tipped the crate over with a foot. Wood and steel skittered across the floor, revealing an assortment of blades, bows, and other weapons. "Raise your hand if you think you actually know how to fight with any of these." Maybe ten of the thirty people raised their hands and Brayden bit back a sigh. At least half of them were lying, and the other half probably over-estimating their own abilities. But he nodded and gestured at the weapons anyway. "Pick your favourite and follow Bel. She'll test you in the next chamber to figure out where you stand in terms of skill."

He waited until they had all scooped up a weapon and left the room before turning back to the others. "What other skills do we have in the room. Any smiths?" Two. "Healers?" Nope, that would have been useful. "Cooks?" Three. "Alchemists?" One – a pleasant surprise. "Mages?" Wishful thinking. "Carpenters or masons?" Five. "And… merchants, farmers, academics, or housewives?" Nine.

"We're screwed," Renaud noted under his breath.

"Shut up," Brayden replied in kind, then raised his voice for the benefit of the others. "You are all going to have to learn to use one of these weapons. We don't have enough people with the necessary ability to pull this off without each of you at some point having to pick up a weapon and defend your fellows, or attack our enemies. Nor do we have the time to teach you properly. So it's going to be some quick and dirty lessons from myself, Renaud, and Liam. For the smiths, cooks, alchemists, carpenters and masons – I need you to talk to Mel. Give her a list of the basics for your crafts. What do you need to repair our gear, feed our folk, or pull together weapons or otherwise contribute to the cause. This list is going to form the basis for our second mission – we've got weapons, but now we need supplies."

"What about the rest of us?" asked someone near the back.

"We want to help," confirmed someone else.

"You form a line to talk to Renaud. You're going to give him a list of everyone you know, including what skills you think they may have and how likely they are to help or hinder us. The more people we have supporting us, the better our odds, and you're going to help us create a network."

He waited until they had all acknowledged these assignments, then turned them over to Renaud and left the room. He travelled down the damp halls of their make-shift sewer base and slipped into what had become their command room. Eldrick looked up when he came in.

"You really think any of this is going to work?" he asked. "Or are you just trying to keep them distracted?"

Brayden considered lying to him, then shrugged. "Little bit of both. We can't do anything with this group alone, we'll get massacred in the first confrontation. Arming them doesn't mean squat, since they've got no clue how to use the weapons. Half our 'fighters' walked away holding their weapons upside down or backwards. So we need to figure out how to expand our membership here, and this is a decent way to do it. We can test their resolve and train them up a bit on small missions to collect or steal supplies, and that'll give Renaud time to pull together a list of contacts we can go to to see about securing safe houses, supply lines, and maybe even some skilled assistance."

"Odds?"

"Slim, but not impossible."

"And if it fails?"

"Then they'll have been kept too busy to realize it's failing and will die content that they were doing something to save Hyrule."

"That's not much."

"It's what we have."

Eldrick frowned darkly and crossed his arms over his chest. "I don't understand why you don't just go up there yourself and assassinate Durnam. Solve the problem in one go. Isn't that what you Sheikah do?"

Brayden gave him a dull look. "You know better than that."

"My point stands. Whether it's what you do or not, you can't deny that it's a thing you've done in the past. Why not now?"

"Because if I kill Durnam, he's got a dozen buddies just itching to take his place. And even if I proceeded to go through each and every one of them, I've no doubt the moblins can just pull something like what Aghanim did with the King. Make the corpse sing and dance for the people, and we'll have accomplished nothing."

"Well we can't fight the moblins," Eldrick growled. "We'd need an army, and even if the whole of Castletown joined us, we'd still be far short of the number of combatants we need."

"Exactly," Brayden said. "And right now the armies that we could call in are all kind of busy elsewhere. So what we do is run a rebellion. We harry, we bother, we inconvenience and we wait. Sooner or later somebody's going to be in a position to bring some real soldiers in here, and they're going to need someone to open the gates. Someone to distract the enemy. Someone to help."

"And that's us."

"That's us. Now," he said, pulling the map of the sewers from his bag and spreading it out on the table they'd made from loose rocks and cobblestones, "the others are busy, and I need your help."

"With?" Eldrick asked.

"We need to figure out some patrol paths in the immediate term to set up a watch. Then we need to identify our key routes in and out of strategic locations. Then pick some less-strategic places to block or collapse tunnels – preferably without taking half of Castletown with them. Then we need to figure out how to booby-trap the Hell out of the rest of them – we might want to bring the Alchemist in on that part of the discussion. I imagine she's got some ideas if we can get her thinking creatively enough."

For a long moment Eldrick stared at him and Brayden stared back. "You're serious about this," said the younger man. "About all of it."

Brayden did not flinch. "I am."

Eldrick watched him for a moment more, then rolled up his sleeves and approached the table.

xxx

Darunia slammed a massive fist into the chest of one of the unexpected attackers and sent the smaller creature flying with a strange, garbled yell. The language it spoke sounded familiar somehow, but he couldn't place it, and ultimately he had bigger concerns.

"Go!" he bellowed at the family he'd found cowering in their kitchen, being menaced by the attacker. "To the cemetery! The Sheikah will guide you down into the caverns, go!"

Terrified, they went.

He moved out of the house and proceeded to the next, wondering which of the three possible scenes he would find in this one – people in hiding, an abandoned house, or a family of corpses. Before he could make it, however, he heard a small cry from a nearby alley – too small and frightened to be one of the mysterious attackers. He redirected his feet and moved toward the sound.

As he rounded the corner he came across a caped invader with its monstrous hands wrapped around the neck of a small, freckled boy. The latter was kicking viciously, but futilely at his attacker, his face an impressive mix of terror and wrath. Darunia moved forward instantly, wrapping his own monstrous hand around the interloper's neck and squeezing until it let go of the little boy with a shriek. It twisted to try to get out Darunia's iron grip.

The Sage of Fire turned and hurled it bodily from the alley, listening to the sickening crack of it hitting a fence just beyond, before turning to the small child. The little boy was clutching his own neck and greedily sucking in air. He looked up at Darunia with huge blue eyes, and Darunia was surprised to see more confusion and horror than fear in them. "Everyone is hurt," he said hoarsely, tears threatening in his voice. "There are people…they're…I think they're dead…I think they killed them…."

"Shhh," said Darunia, "okay, it's okay." He leaned down and scooped the small boy up, then turned and moved out of the alley.

The little boy's eyes fell on the corpse of his attacker and he shuddered violently. "You killed it," he said.

Darunia rumbled uneasily. "I'm sorry, little one, they are leaving me little choice. I would have spared you the sight. Where are your parents? We'll go find them and get you all down to the Caverns where you'll be safe."

"I don't have any parents," said the little boy, and he straightened, as though remembering something.

"Well, then I'm going to drop you off with the Sheikah and they'll take care of you, all right?"

"No," he said. "Wait. You're Darunia. You're the Sage of Fire."

"Yes, that's right," he said, but looked away when someone called his name.

"Darunia!" Dune shouted as she darted out of a burning house just before the whole thing collapsed in on itself. "That's all of them! We can't wait much longer, we need to collapse the tunnel now!"

"I have a message for you!" the little boy gasped, but Darunia wasn't listening. He was looking out over the burning Kakariko with a deeply troubled expression on his face.

"Sorry Impa," he said heavily. "We did what we could. All right!" he called back to the Sheikan woman. "Let's go!"

"Please," the little boy begged. "Please, I have to tell you something!"

"Did we find his parents?" asked Dune, falling in step with the Goron as they ran

"I don't have any," the little boy said again. "Please, I—."

"Sorry sweetie," said Dune sympathetically. "But everything will be all right, okay? We'll protect you."

They slipped into the cemetery and the little boy fell silent, staring with wide eyes at the tombstones and their grim collection of names and dates and epitaphs. "What is this place?" he whispered hoarsely. "Why is it so sad?"

Darunia handed him off to the Sheikah standing guard over a hole dug in the ground near one of the tombstones and the little boy's mouth went dry. "Please," he said. "I don't want to go down there."

"It's okay," said Dune, touching his cheek gently and looking at him with kind eyes. "It's not as scary as it looks." She looked back up at the younger Sheikah holding him. "Bring him to the little Castletown girl. She's got a brother his age, I'm sure she'd be willing to watch him for us. He hasn't got any parents."

"Poor kid," said the Sheikah. Then he shifted his grip on the little boy and together they descended into the dark beneath the graves.

xxx

The pack of feral Gerudo returned, announcing their arrival with a harmony of howls. Apheri looked up at the sound and an uncertain expression crossed her face. "You two should stay here," she said, getting to her feet. "I don't…exactly understand what happened last night, and if some of them have gone wild I don't think it's a good idea for outsiders to be near them."

"I'm as Gerudo as you are," Neesha noted with a frown.

"Not to them," said Apheri with a shrug.

Hunter said nothing. He was busy rearranging the items in the bag to make room for Marni's dress, tearing items out or shoving them in with a good deal more force than was necessary. Neesha looked over at him, noted the dark expression on his face, then turned back to Apheri and shrugged.

The wolf-legged woman exited the tent into the rain.

"Hey," Neesha said, prompting an angry look from Hunter. "What the Hell? I get that you're angry, and I can't blame you, but since when is it news that Link is an idiot?"

"Did you not hear the story I told you?" Hunter demanded. "Do you not understand what we've been through since I woke up here? Do you have any idea how much of it may have been improved with access to something as simple as a map? I mean…," he paused, struggling to find words for what was going on in his head. "He watched me trying to draw exactly that. He sat there and commented on it. He called it a fail-map! He actually said that! That's a thing he said!" He gestured wildly, inarticulate for a moment with rage. "How does that not trigger whatever part of his brain is responsible for indexing the contents of that goddess-damned pouch?" He held out a hand for the dress.

She pulled it tighter to her. "No," she snapped. "You'll shove it in there like you have everything else and it'll get ruined and I'll get blamed. What's wrong with you?"

"I just told you what's wrong with me!" he snarled.

"You're freaking out!" she pointed out irately. "Over something that is completely unsurprising. It can't possibly just be the map?"

"Just…give me the dress," he snapped.

Neesha opened her mouth to respond, but was cut off by a pained groan as the bloodied Hero of Time limped into the tent.

"Urgh," he managed, hands pressed tightly to his temples. "I feel like I've been—Nayru! Neesha!" His expression was astonished and he just stared at her for a moment.

"Yello," she replied negligently.

The sound of her voice spurred him into action. He staggered across the tent and pulled her into a crushing hug – she only just managed to hold the dress out to protect it from the blood and mud all over him. Something glinted in Hunter's eyes and he redirected his outstretched hand toward the green-clothed man. "Hey, Link, toss me your pouch, would you?"

Link didn't even pause to think about it. He pulled back from Neesha – much to the latter's relief – and untied his pouch from his belt. He tossed it negligently to the Sheikah. "Oh my Goddess," he said, "how did you get free? What happened?"

"Some burnt up Avatar freed me apparently," Neesha said. "I don't know. I'm starting to think whatever you two have been eating out here is spiked with something." She shot a side-long look at Hunter who was digging around in the bottomless pouch with a grim determination. "Something's off."

Link shrugged with a frown. "Everything's off," he said. "It's the Dark World. It's a messed up place to start with, but it's screwing with our heads on top of that. You don't feel it?"

Neesha shook her head. "I feel fine," she said. "No different than usual."

"Probably just hasn't hit you yet." He moved to hug her again, but she raised a threatening hand and he apparently decided he didn't have the energy left to fight her for it. "I'm guessing Hunter explained everything?"

"I'm not the only one who's been explaining things," said the latter darkly. Picking up on the menacing note in his voice, Link turned to look at him. In one hand he held the bottomless pouch. In the other he was holding up a piece of parchment in a way that suggested it was incriminating. "This," Hunter said, anger burning brightly in his eyes, "is a map of the Dark World."

Chapter 24

Oh Hell. The map. The map!

I'm such an idiot.

There is something unpleasant in Hunter's face and I am suddenly fully aware of the various aches, stings, and throbbing that are the Beast's gift to me after a night of running around and doing I don't even want to know what in the Mire. There is a fight in his eyes and I don't have the energy for it. I really don't.

"Hunter," I say quickly, turning away from Neesha fully, "listen—!"

"You've been wandering around with a map in your pouch this entire time!" he cries. "Are you kidding me? You never thought to look at it?"

"Do you know how much junk I have in this bag that I never think to look at?" I say defensively, irritated by the accusation in his voice. "And it's not like I've been just sitting on my thumbs with nothing to do but think! It has not been a good few weeks, okay? You're lucky I remember my name most days!"

"Link—."

"Give it to me," I cut him off. "It's probably not even accurate. Her visions are so symbolic as to be useless ninety percent of the time."

He crosses the floor to stand beside me and spreads the map wide. For a moment a brief fit of melancholy darkens my mood – I wish I'd had the chance to talk to her before Aghanim locked her away in here; whatever dream spawned this thing was not pleasant. The feeling twists into something closer to a reflexive annoyance when I recognize the growing knot of rage in Hunter's face as he considers the map.

I didn't understand the chart the first time I looked at it – which might explain part of why I didn't remember I had it; I'd assumed it was just a useless picture of a symbol from Zelda's dream – but I do now, and as I look at it and come to terms with exactly what it is, it occurs to me that there is no way in Heaven or Hell that I'm going to be able to avoid this fight.

There's the Dark World Kakariko, with a little diamond symbol drawn over. There's Anduriel's realm, her tortured orchard, and her defiled temple (where one would expect to see LakeHylia and Zora's Domain), again with a diamond symbol. And there's the mire, a third diamond symbol traced over it.

There are three other diamonds – one in the Lost Woods equivalent (still a forest), one in the Hyrule Field equivalent (now some kind of ice-lake), and one in DeathMountain (which, and I'm not getting over this, is known affectionately here as Turtle Rock). A fourth and final diamond is sort of off to the side with a question mark drawn in it.

"Hey," says Neesha helpfully, peering over our shoulders, "I bet those are where the maidens are being held."

Hunter's head snaps up and I meet his eyes reluctantly. "Link," he repeats, very slowly, "this is a map of the Dark World. A…a map of the Maidens' locations. I mean, she even…she even drew a warning sign on the Mire! Look!" He waves the map in a half-crazed fashion in my face. "Right there! A warning!"

"It's not like we came to the Mire on purpose," I note wearily, feeling more than a little defensive, "so really the warning wouldn't have been that helpful."

And that's just it. I can actually see everything coming to a head in his eyes – the stress of waking up and nearly getting killed by your best friend who is also a monster, of having to deal with people thinking you're someone you're not because a jackass was impersonating you, of travelling half way across the Dark World only to get dragged back the other way by a pack of lupine Gerudo, of participating in a Blood Challenge against a corrupted angel who eats eyes, of having to take care of said best friend at night when he's a rabbit stuffed in a bag and prone to running away, of not sleeping nearly enough if at all, of being bruised and beaten and rained on and cold and hungry forever. All of it collapses in on itself in his face – he hands the map entirely too calmly to Neesha to protect – and then abruptly explodes outward in a massive fit of rage. I don't even have time to dodge.

"Hunter wait!" I cry, covering my face with my arms as he tackles me to the ground.

"I'm going to kill you!" he shrieks, punching me hard in the stomach. It hurts more than it should thanks to the wounds I'm already suffering from, and the pain causes the dull rage lurking at the back of my heart to surge to the forefront. Hunter, in the meantime, is unsatisfied with just hitting my stomach. He grapples with my hands to get them away from my face so he can break my nose, which is what he really wants to do. "After everything – all of it – and you've been sitting on a map! A map! Literally sitting on it!"

"I didn't remember!" I shout, grabbing his wrists before he can punch me again. We fight for a moment, twisting and wrestling with each other. The force of the struggle rolls us out of the tent and into the rain. In the end, I manage to pin him down under me in the mud. "I told you, I've been distracted and I didn't think it mattered! This hasn't been easy for me either, you know!"

"No sympathy!" he snarls, struggling violently to get out of my hold. "All of your problems are your own doing! All of them! Why do I let you talk me into these things?" There's a crazy, off-kilter look in his face, and I can sense it mirrored in my own. There's a more reasoned part of me that understands this is the Dark World acting on both of us – putting pressure on weak points rendered weaker by this entire, impossible misadventure. But even if I wanted to listen to it, I couldn't. "You know what? All of my problems are your doing too!"

"Not fair," I snarl, uncaring about the growing crowd of lupine Gerudo gathering around us. The Gerudo back home would have pulled us apart by now and I'd be screaming at them not to kill Hunter for attacking me. These Gerudo just start laying bets. "How is it my fault you refused to learn archery? How is it my fault you're too stubborn to walk way when I have a stupid idea?"

"I'm trying to help!" he yells, wrenching one arm free of my hold.

"You're trying to prove you're right!" I snap angrily. "Can't walk away before the I-Told-You-So, can—!" His elbow catches me in the side of the head and I topple off him. He wastes no time in lunging for me and, you know what? Fine. We mutually agree to abandon words entirely in favour of trying to drown each other in the mud.

At one point I've got Hunter pinned down again and I'm raising my fist to break his nose – show him who told who so – when someone wraps their hand in the back of my tunic and hauls me bodily backward. Enraged at being pulled away from the target of my violence, I turn and take a swing at the interloper.

Neesha side steps it easily and follows up by cracking her knuckles across my jaw. I go flying. I slam into Hunter, who was trying to pick himself up, and we both go down in a heap.

"What the Hell is wrong with you two?" she snarls, feet in a wide fighting stance, fists raised in case either of us wishes to continue taking it up with her. "You're trying to kill each other over a map!"

"Holy Three, she was Gerudo!" exclaims someone near the back of the crowd.

"He started it!" I snap, shoving Hunter as I get back to my feet. "Jackass!"

"What a stirring defence," Hunter growls pushing himself up. "Like the three-year-old you are!"

"Shut up!" Neesha cries before I can continue to drag the conversation as deep into the mud as Hunter and I just were. "Goddess, just shut up. Link, you're already injured. Get into the tent before you hurt yourself worse than you already have."

The haze of anger starts to subside beneath the confused disgust in her eyes, but Anhati, standing on the inside of the ring of Gerudo to my left, snorts. "You going to take that from a little girl? Some King."

And that's all it takes for the rage to reassert itself. It's like these women have a direct line to the Beast and can summon it up whether I want it or not. I abandon my fight with Hunter and lunge at Neesha instead.

She was ready for me to attack, but not for the ferocity with which I do it – rage enough to make up for how tired and hurt I am. The Gerudo begin cheering, like a background buzzing in my ears, like the edge on the adrenaline rush pushing me forward. Neesha ignores them, her face settling into an angry, determined expression.

She ducks my first swing and blocks the follow-up, spinning into a kick designed to take me out. But I grab her leg and twist, sending her toward the ground. She lands on her hands and pushes herself back up in a spring. As she whirls to face me, sending a spray of rain from the end of her ponytail, there is a sudden hardness in her face that means the gloves are officially off.

She launches herself at me, fists a blur. I respond in kind, but I'm not thinking straight. I'm too angry. I don't even try to block her, so for every hit I land, I take another four. And all the while there's a tiny voice at the back of my mind shrieking at me that this is my friend. My sister. What am I doing? But it's so quiet I can barely hear it.

It's not until I make a vicious strike at her, way too much power, not enough aim, that something breaks through. She twists out of the way, but only barely, and I wind up tearing a small pouch she was wearing as a necklace free of her neck. That tiny voice suddenly becomes a very loud voice and my previous anger is overwhelmed by a rush of horror and regret. I stop, confused.

Neesha, unaware of my unexpected change of heart, slams her foot into my back and sends me flying down into the mud.

I push myself up again very slowly, panting heavily and wincing as I roll myself over to stare at her with wide eyes.

She stands in the rain and the mud, still in a ready stance, staring at me with a mixture of offence and hurt in her face, not understanding much of what just happened.

I don't have the words to explain it to her. I don't want to explain it to her. Shame burns my cheeks a bright red and I look back and forth from her to Hunter. "I'm sorry," I manage hoarsely. "I don't…that wasn't…." Words fail me and I swallow thickly.

"That's it?" Anahti demands, disappointed.

The barb does nothing. Provokes no reaction. The Beast suddenly isn't there to answer her.

I turn and lift Neesha's pouch from the mud, staring at it uncomprehendingly. "Neesha," I say slowly, turning back to look at her. "What is this?"

"A pouch," she says, watching me warily. "For little things I don't want anyone to find."

"What's in it?" Hunter asks. Some of the anger has bled from his face as well as he begins to understand the order of events.

"A couple rupees, the key to my lockbox in the fort," she answers, not understanding this conversation any more than anything that preceded it. "Oh," she adds as an afterthought, "and a big pearl I stole from the wizard."

A Brief Interlude

"It's not adding up," Harker said, a frown drawing his moustache down at the corners. "How could the rebels have killed Shenyan? They're holed up down in the sewers, and they're hardly a major threat. How did they get through his security?"

"They have at least two Sheikah with them," Durnam reminded him. He did not turn to look at the other nobleman, choosing instead to slowly pour himself water from the nearby decanter. "If you count that insufferable servant our late colleague used to employ."

"Are you joking?" Harker demanded. "Have you even heard the reports? Whoever did it made such a mess of him the guard who found what was left of the corpse nearly faints every time you try to talk to him about it. That's not Sheikan handiwork."

"Well it's not Hylian either, is it?" Durnam snapped. He set the decanter back down on its tray and it rattled condemningly at him. Damn his shaking hands.

"No," Harker agreed. "It's not. So it's either an independent, completely random, or something we haven't considered." There was something heavy and a little frightened in his voice. "You don't think it's…well, them do you?"

"No," Durnam said quickly, turning to look at him at last. "Why would they? They gain nothing."

"They're beasts, Durnam," Harker snapped. "What motivation have they ever needed?"

"These ones are different and you know it," Durnam told him. "And besides, with Aghanim gone they're completely under my control."

Something sharpened in Harker's gaze. "Indeed," he said and got to his feet. "I'll keep that in mind."

Durnam didn't bother to reply. He simply stood with his untouched water in his hand and watched the younger man leave. "Din," he swore as the door fell shut.

"What matter?" said a guttural voice from behind him. He gasped and nearly dropped the glass as he whirled around. The moblin who lead the others of his ilk stood in a dark corner of the room, porcine amusement written broad on its face.

Durnam blanched. "What are you doing here?" he demanded in a hiss. "You're not supposed to come to my personal quarters."

The moblin snorted derisively and said nothing.

"Are you responsible for Shenyan's death?" Durnam demanded. "Was that you?"

"Not me," said the moblin. "Maybe another, yes?"

"Don't lie to me, monster!" Durnam snapped, hands tight on his glass. "Who else could it have been?"

"Why mad?" the moblin demanded, snickering. "Shenyan threat, yes? Shenyan want throne. Throne yours. We promise."

"Shenyan could have been controlled," Durnam cried, then abruptly lowered his voice. "You didn't need to kill him!"

"No?" said the moblin. A smile split its face, as wicked and curved as its blade. "Mistake. No more."

"No! No more. Don't kill anyone unless I tell you to!"

"Kay," said the moblin. "No more. You control, boss." It snickered again.

"Honey?" called a tired voice from down the hallway. "Is everything okay?"

Durnam hissed and moved to cut his wife off before she could enter the room and see the beast in the corner. "Yes, love," he said, kissing her forehead and turning her around. "It was just Harker. He's taking that unpleasantness with Shenyan poorly."

"Unpleasantness," repeated the moblin, snickering yet again, amused by the word.

"Who's there?" his wife asked, craning her neck to look.

"No one, darling, don't worry about it. I'll chase them out soon enough and be back in bed before you can blink, all right?"

She continued to frown down the hallway, suspicion pushing some of the sleep from her eyes, but at last nodded and moved back into their bedroom.

He returned to the parlour and scowled darkly at the moblin, who just continued smiling its demented smile. "Harker suspicious, yes?" it noted in a tone it no doubt thought was cajoling. "Shame. He unpleasant, maybe. He unpleasant to your family, yes?"

"Get out," Durnam snapped, voice trembling with rage. "Just get out. We will discuss this later."

"Okay," said the moblin. "You boss." Its snuffling laugh lingered for a moment on the air after it vanished from where it had been sitting with a soft pop.

Durnam stared at where it had been, then put his water down on the table and reached for the wine.

xxx

"Wait!" the little boy cried as the Sheikah who dropped him off waved and closed the door. "I need to talk to the Sages! Please!"

"That's a kind of spice," said Cota with a frown. "For cooking. You can't talk to it."

The little boy rounded on him, freckled face offended. "It's not a spice, it's a kind of person!" he argued. "It's a wise person with magic powers, don't you know anything?"

"Now now," said Marni, turning around to face them. "Cota, be nice. You don't know what the poor thing's been through." She dropped into a crouch, her long skirts brushing the ground, and met the little boy's eyes. "What's your name, sweetie?"

"Mido," said the boy, shy suddenly. "I'm here on a mission for the Great Deku Tree. I need to speak with the Sages or maybe a general."

"Trees don't give missions," said Cota, rolling his eyes. "They're trees."

"Well where I'm from they do give missions!" Mido cried, rounding on the boy. "And we're all in big trouble if I don't find someone to give my message to! People are…they're…they're dying!" His voice cracked dangerously and something crumpled in his face.

"Shhh!" said Marni, taking his chin and forcing him to look at her. "Shhh, shhh, it's okay. You're safe, Mido, I promise, okay? We're in the Sheikah Caverns. The Sheikah will protect us, it's okay. The bad people can't get us here."

"Yes they can!" Mido said, growing ever closer to tears. "They're probably here now! I have to go!"

Marni was considering him very closely. "What kind of tree did you say gave you the mission?"

"The Great Deku Tree," Mido repeated, shooting Cota a dirty look before the older boy could complain again. "He's very important."

"Great Deku," repeated Marni. "I've heard that somewhere." She blinked. "Oh. That's the tree in the Lost Woods that Sir Link used to—oh!" She covered her mouth with a hand and her eyes went wide. "Oh my goodness! You're a Kokiri!"

"A Kokiri?" Cota repeated, straightening. "He is not! You are not. Are you? You're not."

"I am," said Mido proudly, puffing his chest out. "And I'm on a mission for the Great Deku Tree."

"So you don't grow up at all?" Cota asked, curious suddenly. He climbed down off the bed to move over and inspect Mido more closely. "Where's your fairy? I thought Kokiri had fairies."

The mention of fairies made Mido's lip quiver and he lowered his eyes. "I left my fairy at home," he said. "I didn't want…anything to happen…."

"Why aren't you dressed in green? All the forest kids are supposed to be in green."

"My clothes weren't warm enough," Mido said, rubbing roughly at his eyes. "Mr. Brayden found me these ones instead so I wouldn't freeze while travelling."

"Mr. Brayden!" Marni gasped again.

"Marni," said Cota dully, as though annoyed beyond endurance, "stop repeating everything. You're embarrassing me."

"Hush Cota," said Marni, crinkling her nose at her brother. "You've been to Castletown? You've spoken with Mr. Brayden?"

"Yes," said Mido. "I gave him my message, but the people here in Kakariko don't know yet and I need to tell them before it's too late."

Marni threw an uncertain look at the door. "They…they said we had to stay here," she said. "I don't know if we should…can you tell me what the message is?"

Mido shifted his weight and hesitated. "The Great Deku tree said it was for the Sages or the Generals or for Brayden."

Marni took his hand in hers and gave him a pleading look. "Please, sweetie. I'll help you find someone to tell if you tell me what it is. It's the only way we'll be able to get anyone's attention right now, okay?"

A blush stole across Mido's face and he stared at her hand clasping his for a moment. He swallowed thickly. He wondered if the Great Deku Tree would be mad that he didn't follow instructions exactly. And he wondered if the Great Deku Tree would be mad that he let himself get locked in a room while his message went unheard and people died.

Whatever would anger the Great Deku Tree more, Mido knew which of the two he could live with. "They're moblins," he said finally. "The attackers. They're a new kind of moblin. They can cast spells and they're hiding themselves with magic and you can only tell what they are if you know the secret, and the secret is that they're actually moblins."

For a moment Marni said nothing. She wanted to laugh and wave him off and tell him that was silly. Tap his nose and shake her head and put both he and Cota to bed and go on pretending things were going to work out. But she couldn't quite make her mouth work to do it. As his words sank in, she slowly began to realize that he was speaking the truth. That what would have seemed ridiculous prior to him speaking, now made perfect sense.

There were moblins hiding among the people of Kakariko, and it was these that had turned and attacked them.

The Sheikah and Gorons had taken the people of Kakariko into the Caverns to protect them from attackers.

The attackers were in the Caverns and no one knew except for her, and the two little boys in front of her. She could see on Cota's face a similar realization sinking in.

She blanched and got to her feet. She took two steps to the door, pulled it open, and ran out into the hallways, screaming for Darunia or Impa or Dune or anyone who would listen.

xxx

The stone was a humble thing. Little more than an arm's length, and only about as thick, but its speckled grey colour hid flecks of something that caught the dim light the way a song catches a child's attention. It had the shape of a perfect skipping stone, though far too large, and the one for whom it was intended had been fond of such games once.

In the old days she would have used a more fitting material, but these days one made do with what one had.

Her mount's blue head snorted behind her and she waved dismissively at it with a taloned hand. "Hush," she scolded it. "Things happen as they are meant to, and we are not currently meant to be in a rush. I want her to have more than just a note in Mudora's useless book."

The second of the beast's heads, the crimson one, tilted to look at her in a questioning way. She tilted hers back in response, sending long ebony ringlets spilling over her thickly curled ram's horns. "Death does not always end one's journey," she explained. "It was not appropriate until now."

The stone head did nothing. Simply stared forward at the road on which they travelled and contemplated the future.

She settled herself on the bank of the dark river and spread her black wings wide, to draw whatever warmth they could from the pathetic sun. With the heavy stone in her lap, she began her work. Again and again and again she drew her dark claw against its unforgiving surface until she was satisfied with this first gouge in her carving. Then she moved on to the next.

The work was dull and repetitive, but honest and simple, and that more than made up for it. There wasn't much left that had those qualities these days. The world had once again grown dark and complex, and what honesty there was left was limited to small acts and brief exchanges. A sweet child's unwelcome question. The tattered feathers of a sister, betrayed and broken. A simple stone, with only a single word to bear witness to an entire life. These things were honest, and inescapable.

All part of a plan she could not have questioned if she wanted to. And she did. She did want to.

She paused in her work as a familiar presence intruded on her mental space. What are you doing? The voice was stiff and cold, but the tone was a veil over genuine curiosity.

She smiled wryly and resumed her carving. "Have you decided to cease your hurling of insults and unfair words, then?"

I've said nothing unfair, the voice retorted stubbornly.

"You called me a monster."

You are one.

"I work for one. That's different," she corrected the voice.

You choose to work for one, the voice responded huffily. You choose to act on his order and follow his commands.

"You see?" she said, delicately dragging her talon in the shape of an 'O' on the rock. The left side was just a smidge too straight, so she began smoothing the initial marks out with a thumb. "You're being unfair. Did you choose to be the Seventh Sage? Or the Princess of Hyrule? Or descended from a long line of both?" She pulled back to consider her work so far and, satisfied, leaned back in to continue. "Perhaps you chose your parents, and their parents, and their parents all the way back to the First War."

Those are circumstances and titles, responded the Princess curtly. They have nothing to do with my choices.

"And my actions to date have nothing to do with mine," she answered the mortal woman calmly. She lifted the rock to her lips to blow the dust of her carving from its surface, then set to it once more. "I am no mortal, burdened by questions of Free Will and Fate. I know where I am free, and I know where I am bound, and if I am a monster, it is because another has declared it so. If my actions offend you, you may take it up with him. I gather that that is your destiny, after all."

And how would you like me to do that? she snapped, anger threatening to completely ruin the coolly professional tone she had adopted. You've imprisoned me in a rock that you wear as a ring. Perhaps you could propose to your master and see if he marries you. Then at least I would be one step closer to him.

The image struck her funny bone and she chuckled. "What an amusing creature you are!" she said. "You should lose your temper more often, Princess. You are far more clever than you let on."

You know nothing about me.

"Oh I know a great deal about you," she replied with a shrug. She was forced to pause her carving to brush her ebony ringlets from her grey shoulder. "In fact, I would venture to say that I know everything about you."

Do you expect me to believe—

"You had your first vision when you were eight and in it you saw your future," she cut the Sage off. The woman's stunned silence was more than a little rewarding. "You saw yourself chained to a throne that may as well be a prison, bound by others' expectations of you, forever fighting a war against the nameless forces that work constantly against you and your Kingdom and all that it and you represent. You saw yourself surrounded by people all the time, but excruciatingly lonely. You saw relationships you needed and craved, but which, themselves, were tied to responsibilities and requirements that meant they could never be fully realized. You saw pain and hardship and sacrifice, and however bright the moments in between, they were so faint a minority as to be negligible. And you saw this life as a link in a chain, one that stretched back so far you couldn't even see the start of it, and moved forward beyond you to a future so murky you wept. Hyrule the Kingdom, Hyrule the land, Hyrule the idea needed you, and that need was so great it would ultimately consume you."

How do you know that? the young woman asked hoarsely.

"When you woke from this vision," she continued, ignoring the question. "You were inconsolable. People assumed you were grieving the recent loss of your mother, and you were too young to explain their mistake. You didn't have near the vocabulary to tell them the truth of it. Of what you'd seen, and what you now knew. You cried all night and not your nurse maid, nor Impa, nor your father could still your trembling frame. The next morning you asked your nurse to take you to the gardens near the palace wall, and, desperate to cheer you, she did so. When her back was turned you climbed a tree, dropped over the wall, and limped away from the palace and that life as fast as you could. They launched a fruitless search for you, your father was ready to call in the military by dusk, but you returned of your own accord. Dirty and cold and weeping, your brief defiance of this fate you foresaw defeated. Do you even know what simple thing it was that defeated you, Princess? I doubt it. But I do."

How? Zelda snapped, upset by this retelling.

"Because I am meant to," she replied, unconcerned. "But that is the past, and the past is boring. I only remember it in such detail because I was curious then which path you would ultimately choose. As I have been many times throughout your life and those before it. I've proven my point well enough and no longer feel like discussing it. If you wish to know things you were you would do better to speak with my sister in the far flung woods."

You're a prophet? She sounded surprised.

"In a manner," she answered. "I know the futures open to you and all others. But the future bores me as much as the past. More options and paths than your finite mind can comprehend, and none of them real until a decision is made, and then all others rendered null. It hardly matters what will happen, until it does."

So the present is your concern, then.

"No, the future is my concern," she said with a slight frown. "More's the pity. But it is the present in which I am interested. That delicious moment in which the universe hovers on the edge of a choice, and a thousand thousand realities wait to see if they are the one born of it, or if they, in the end, simply never exist. It's technically not my business, but I can't help but watch. Like a child who's never had ice cream watches a man with a cone and wonders how it tastes and feels and smells."

The Princess fell silent once more, and the only sound disturbing the afternoon was the scrape of the winged-thing's talon on the stone. When she finished the last letter she held it up to examine it with a critical eye. The one for whom it was meant had never been overly concerned with perfection, quite content to accept things as they were and love them anyway, but what, if not that precise quality, was more deserving of perfection?

The Princess' presence stirred in the back of her mind. Who is Nobernal? she asked.

But the sound of the name hurt more than she expected and she neglected to answer. Instead she leaned forward to place the smooth stone in the scraggly grass of the riverbank. "There is a moment, much like the one I mentioned earlier, taking place right now. A young man very important to you has made a decision he regrets, driven by a thing within himself he cannot control. But as a result he has found his freedom from the Dark World's chains." She fussed over the positioning of the stone for a moment, then sat back to consider it. "He is confused and hurt and badly in need of a friend, but his mind is clear in a way it has not been since he arrived."

Without warning her throat grew tight, as though invisible hands were wrapped around her neck. She felt the chains of Power tighten around her heart, squeezing until it hurt. She gasped despite herself, raising a hand to clutch at her chest.

It was a thin line she was walking, but she'd known that before she'd ever set foot on it and she would be damned if she stopped now – she knew where she was free and she knew where she was bound, and no matter how he railed and lashed her, she was free to do this. "The wall you have been trying to breach within him is down," she managed with an effort. Her talons were tight on the stone, knuckles pale. "Perhaps you could pester him for a time, and leave me to my grief."

The Princess struggled with a slew of reactions – surprise, suspicion, uncertainty, and an empathy that would have been unexpected if she did not already know all possible paths – but ultimately was unable to resist her own desperate hopes that she might finally be able to get through to the Hero. She receded from the winged-thing's mind and was no doubt invading the personal mental space of the Hero in the next breath.

The physical pain did not pass right away. Her master was displeased and he had never been slow to address that when the need arose. She bowed her head over the carved stone and forced herself to breathe deeply, waiting for his wrath to fade.

When it finally relented, she wiped her forehead with a trembling hand and reflected on her situation. She liked the Princess, she did. Understood her struggle with the unobtainable balance between freedom and responsibility. Respected her for facing a future as rife with conflict and unhappiness as the present with her back straight and her head held high. Appreciated her ability to make difficult decisions that would paralyze a lesser mortal, and live with the consequences with as much grace as she could muster.

Were things different, and her master not the man he was, she would have sought to take the young woman under her wing, teach her ways to use her powers that she could not even imagine, show her the beauty in her gifts, not just the curse they carried.

But those choices had already been made, and the reality in which that was possible had already vanished. Her master was what he was, and there was nothing she could do about that. The past was boring, and the future pointless. All that mattered was the present.

She pressed a kiss to her fingers, and pressed those fingers to the speckled grey stone. "At least for you, dear sister, the fight is over." She pushed herself to her feet and turned away without looking back.

Her mount's cerulean head hissed a question at her. "If we are lucky, we will be joining her soon."

The scarlet head bowed sadly as she climbed onto its shell and took up the reigns. "Soon enough, Trinexx," she answered it. "Soon enough."

The stone head did nothing. Simply stared forward at the road on which they travelled and contemplated the future.

Chapter 24 (cont.)

"A moon pearl," Hunter says for the three thousandth time since we returned to our tent. He winces as he drags a wet cloth across the bloody cut on his cheek where I must have caught him with a fist. "A moon pearl. And a map. An artifact of enough power to put most of Link's toys to shame, and a map of the very place in which we were lost. And you have both been sitting on them right from the start."

"You need new friends," Apheri says, doing the same to my face. I would do it myself but my hands are shaking and there is not a piece of my body that is not rebelling on me right now and I'm afraid of making it worse. She is decidedly less gentle with me than I feel she should be. I get that this is because I'm a Gerudo and therefore do not require gentleness and thus is technically a compliment but holy mother of go easy would you.

"I really do," Hunter agrees.

"All right, that's that. I don't think you'll need stitches anywhere you don't already have them." She drops her bloody cloth into a bowl of water and snorts. "That much noise and not a real wound between you. Like a couple of puppies gnawing on each other."

"I was tired," I defend myself. "I still am, thanks for asking. I need to sleep or I'm going to do something embarrassing like pass out."

"Where did you get it, Neesha?" Hunter asks, pulling his muddy shirt over his head to get better access to a welt on his shoulder. "The pearl, I mean."

Neesha, who is standing in the corner and refusing to help patch either one of us up because she thinks we're stupid (which is fine by me, since I can't even bring myself to make eye contact with her right now), shrugs.

"You didn't steal it from one of the mages, did you?" I demand, as I reach for my tunic.

She wrinkles her nose. "Everything they own smells like old people. I wouldn't touch it if you paid me."

"Was it Marni's?" Hunter asks in a voice that suggests he will proceed immediately to the nearest cliff and jump off it if the answer is yes because why do all the not-nearly-cool-enough people in his life keep getting all the cool things?

Neesha, mortally offended at the implication that she falls into any group anywhere near the one Marni is in, huffs at him. "No," she snaps. "It's mine."

I frown at her in a decidedly unimpressed fashion as I pull the green shirt back on. "You mean it's someone else's, and you stole it."

Apheri raises an eyebrow. "Do we not do that anymore?" She looks back and forth between me and Neesha, vaguely distressed. "Seriously? We stopped stealing?"

"No, we still steal, just not when his Holiness is watching." She gives me an equally unimpressed frown. "I was going to convert it into cash for your Solstice present, FYI, but now I think I'll give it to Hunter."

"So where did you get it?" Hunter asks again. The fact that no one has yet sated his curiosity is clearly causing him concern.

"Agahnim's ugly tower," Neesha answers.

"Oh," I say. "You stole it from Aghanim. Okay then. You're forgiven."

"Somebody want to tell me what a moon pearl is?" Apheri asks.

"It's an incredibly rare artifact used generally to augment or protect against the effects of big-time magic," Hunter says. "I didn't even know there were any left."

"Sahasrahla used to own one," I say. "I think, anyway. Said he lost it ages ago, but it used to—"

LINK!

The unexpected mental cry cuts me off before I can finish my sentence, and the tent and the mire and my friends blur alarmingly. I have just enough time to feel my physical legs give out under me before the world disappears entirely. It isn't gone for long, but when it returns I'm not staring at the inside of a patchwork tent in a swamp where a desert should be. I'm staring at the cool marble of the walls of Temple of Time.

"Link!" calls a female voice from behind me. I whirl around and meet the wide eyes of the Princess of Hyrule.

"Zelda!" I gasp. She rushes toward me, but hard-earned instinct overrides my shock at last and I back peddle in a panic. "No! Stop," I snap. "Stay back."

"Link—"

"What's going on?" I demand, face darkening dramatically. I stare wildly around the Temple, trying to verify all the details. Sombre stone altar with three indentations, unseen choir, strangely comforting feeling – check, check, check. I turn and stare at the woman who is pretending to be Zelda, giving her the same treatment. Long blonde hair, imperially arched eyebrow, unimpressed frown –check, check, check. If it's an imitation, it's an excellent one.

"I could ask you the same thing," she notes, perplexed. She crosses her arms under her chest and a wry expression settles on her face. "This isn't quite the welcome I expected."

"Yeah, whatever," I say, scowling. I feel an anger stirring in my chest that for once has nothing to do with the beast. "Is this a trick? Because I already fell for this once. This exact play. Twice if you change the characters and the setting, okay? I'm getting…I'm really tired of you people impersonating my friends. Who are you? How are you doing this?"

Her face softens and she uncrosses her arms. "Link," she says gently, "it's me. Zelda. I promise. I'm not Agahnim. Or anyone else."

I hesitate, and my traitorous heart allows a pathetic seed of hope to bloom. Her eyes…are her own. They're not cloudy, like last time. But then, neither were Hunter's when Blind was impersonating him…but how many doppelgangers could there possibly be on Ganon's payroll?

And what if I'm right and this is a trick?

But what if I'm wrong, and it's not?

What if this…what if this really is Zelda?

"How are you here, then?" I demand. "You were captured." There is a good deal more desperate plea than wild accusation in my voice, but I haven't got the energy to find a more strategic tone. This is why this trick works so consistently. I just want it to be real so badly I'm willing to fall for it. "The others have all been imprisoned in crystals, why aren't you?"

"I am imprisoned," she says, and taps her head. "But I'm a lot harder than that to trap up here, and being in the Sacred Realm – whatever it's been turned into – makes me a lot stronger than usual." She takes a hesitant step forward. "Link, it's me. I swear it. Just…ask me a question. Let me prove it to you. Ask me anything."

I don't even need to think about it. "Marry me."

"No."

No hesitation. No searching for a stolen memory. A legitimate, honest answer. I want to rush over to her but I can't even manage that. It's too much. The wave of relief – relief that she's okay, relief that she's here, relief that I can talk to her – is too much for my overloaded brain to take. My knees give out and I sink to the floor, but she's crossed the gap in two steps and sinks with me, her arms wrapped tightly around me, one hand buried in my hair beneath my hat.

I laugh helplessly into her neck, drinking in the scent of her. "That never gets easier to hear, you know."

She snorts in an unladylike fashion into my hat. "Never gets easier to say."

I return her embrace tightly and kiss her. "Zelda I'm sorry," I say. "I'm sorry I wasn't there when you got captured. I'm sorry I didn't get to you in time."

"Don't," she says. "It's not something you need to apologize for. It was my mistake that got me captured, and my own fault that I didn't rescue myself." She pulls back to take my chin in her hand and looks me straight in the eyes, searching them. "I've been trying to contact you since you arrived here," she says softly. "But I couldn't. Your mind was like a hurricane, there was nowhere for me to grab." Her expression is serious and concerned. "I could sense what you were going through, around the edges. Link, I've never been so scared for you in my life – and you've given me plenty of reason in the past to be scared for you." She lets go of my chin and pulls back from our embrace to take my hand. "What's happened?"

I don't want to tell her. It's not exactly a happy story, and it wasn't fun to live through the first time, let alone a second. What I want to do is grab her and curl up around her like she's some kind of nice-smelling teddy bear and just sleep for like a million years. "Yours first," I say, avoiding her gaze. "Where are you? What happened after you freed Thomas?"

"Link," she says flatly, seeing right through this ploy, "my story is short and boring, as you can well imagine, seeing as I've spent the bulk of it unconscious and/or imprisoned in a rock. I want to know yours, and you can deny it all you want, but you need to tell it."

I snort. "What, are you reading my mind now?" I demand, turning to look at her.

But her expression is earnest and I regret the snark immediately. "I'm reading your face, Link," she says. "It's not hard."

I stare at her for a long moment, unable or unwilling to start. But she's not looking away or bending, and if I am honest with myself, it can't have been any more pleasant for her if our connection's been active this entire time, and she deserves – more than anyone – to know the truth of it. Of what I am.

So I sigh and break our staring contest and give in. I tell her.

Slow at first. Halting and hesitant. It's strange to tell the story now that the Beast has disappeared from my heart. Strange to try to describe what I was feeling, what frame of mind I was in when I did the things I did. Though I can see curiosity and a general sense of being unsatisfied with the amount of detail I'm giving her at certain parts of the story, Zelda doesn't interrupt me. She fills in what gaps she can on her own, and she'll grill me on the rest of it later, and that's fine. She waits until I'm done, and then she takes a moment to process the entirety of it.

At last she offers me a wry smile. "Why do you always do all the exciting stuff when I'm indisposed?"

I laugh despite myself. "I don't know if exciting is the word I'd use."

"It's better than what I've been doing," she says with a roll of her eyes. "Took me a while to fight my way awake after I got sent here. I can't see anything out of my own eyes, they're closed and I can't open them, but if I can find a foothold and get into someone else's head I can see through theirs."

I press a hand to my heart and fake outrage. "Zelda!" I gasp. "Have you been cheating on me with other people's brains?"

"I have been obscenely promiscuous," she replies with a straight face. Then puts a finger to her chin and looks thoughtful. "Or would have been if I could have found more than one brain to cheat on you with. Unfortunately, the few people we've come across were in similar straits to you. Their minds were tumultuous messes and I couldn't find a foothold."

"We've?" I ask her.

"We've," she confirms. "I believe I'm currently being worn in a ring, on the finger of an angel. Like the others you've described."

I blink. "Wait, like the God one, or like Nobernal? Because that's two very different angels."

"Neither," she says. "The other one. The first one."

"Anduriel?" I demand, incredulous. "Impossible. She's the only one that wasn't corrupted by Ganon's influence."

"I know, but still, the comparison stands," she says. She frowns thoughtfully. "I'm not going to say they're identical. And this one is definitely working for Ganon, she's said as much to me several times. I just…I've been in her head, Link. She's not like the other two you mentioned. She's…she's just different."

"It's probably a trick," I say darkly. "Don't let her pull you in, Zelda."

She waves me off without acknowledging my warning. "I'm not exactly sure where we are right now," she says. "Near a river and a road. But we're hard to miss. She rides around on a three-headed turtle. She talks to it. Calls it Trinexx."

"That's not much to go off of," I say with a frown.

"A three-headed turtle's not a lot to go off of?" she demands, raising an eyebrow.

"Did you hear the story I just told you?" I reply incredulously. "Do you have any idea how normal that sounds compared to half of it?"

"All right, all right," she says. "Fair enough. I'll keep my eyes open for actual landmarks and let you know as soon as I see something memorable. In the meantime, you three should keep going after the others that are actually marked on the map."

"Any idea how to get them home?" I ask.

She shakes her head. "Sorry, no. The seals are pretty tight. Only way in or out is those portals, and they won't work once you've rescued the maiden." She frowns thoughtfully, setting her chin in the palm of her hand. "It's a problem though. The Sages can't lift those seals without guaranteeing Hyrule's destruction. The only thing we have going for us right now is that the moblins are forced to be herded through the portals." Her expression is dark. "Push come to shove we may need to take the fight to Ganon himself."

I lean forward and kiss her forehead with a grin. "I love it when you talk dirty to me."

Her lips twist in a sarcastic smirk and she's about to reply, but she blinks instead and points at my face. "Oh!" she says. "Your cut's healing!"

I raise a hand to my face, but the cut's already gone. And shortly thereafter, most of the other aches and pains that have been dragging me down fade away. "Aw, crap," I say, getting to my feet. "They must have fed me a healing potion. They probably think I'm dying of internal bleeding or something." I turn apologetically to her. "I've gotta get back before they decide it's Hunter's fault."

"Hey, no worries," she says, getting to her feet as well. "I'll be here when you need me." She shrugs. "It's not like I've got anything else to do right now."

"Sure you do," I say with a grin. "Put that big brain of yours to work and figure us a way out of here." I pull her close and kiss her goodbye, pausing for a moment with my forehead against hers. "And thanks," I add. "For listening."

She grins up at me. "One of us has to," she says. And she lets go of the connection before I can respond.

The Temple of Time fades away and within seconds is replaced by the sloped ceiling of the tent in Misery Mire.

"He's waking up!"

"Link?"

Link?

I push myself up into a seated position, waiting for my disorientation to pass. "Sorry," I say. "Not dying. Zelda."

Link, I can still sense you.

"Zelda?" Hunter and Neesha gasp. "She contacted you?" Hunter adds. "How? Where is she? Did she get free?"

I wave them off, distracted by the mental sound of Zelda's voice. Link can you hear me?

"Zelda?" I say.

"That's who we're talking about, isn't it?" Neesha demands, and I hiss at her to shut up.

"Zelda, are you there?"

Yes! Link, I'm still connected.

"How?" I demand. "This has never happened before. How can I still hear you?"

"Oh good," says Apheri, appearing remarkably close to panic, "the bleeding must have been in his brain. He's going to die."

"Link, what's going on?" Hunter demands. "Are you talking to Zelda right now? Why aren't you unconscious?"

"I don't know," I snap, "shut up, I'm trying to figure that out."

"He's not dying," Neesha tells Apheri. "And he's not crazy. And he's not haemorrhaging. It's just his stupid Princess interrupting everything as usual."

Tell her I heard that, Zelda says, a frown clear in her voice.

"She heard that," I tell Neesha, who straightens and blinks. "Wait, you heard that? Can you hear everything? Can you see any of it?"

Yes, she says. I think so. From your perspective.

"How?" I demand. "We've never been able to do this before. Hunter's right, why aren't I unconscious?"

I…don't know, she says. Technically I've never been able to speak to others telepathically either, but I can speak to my captor just fine. Maybe it's just a side effect of where we are. It's another way my powers, or our link, or both are augmented. Maybe it's because we both have Triforce pieces, or because you're the Hero and I'm the Seventh Sage. I don't know, Link.

I turn to Hunter and shrug at him. "She doesn't know how," I say. "But she's there. She can see everything I can see apparently."

"And she can talk to you?" he asks.

"Yes," I reply.

"That's really invasive," Neesha notes.

"Kind of," I agree awkwardly.

Sorry, Zelda says, equally awkward. I don't know how to shut it off.

"Shut up," Hunter says, "this is potentially useful. Is she free?"

"No," I say, holding out a hand for Apheri to help me up. "She's still stuck, but I guess being in the Sacred Realm or Dark World or whatever augments her telepathy."

"Why didn't she contact you before?" Neesha demands.

"She couldn't," I say. "Not while the Beast was in here." I rap on my chest.

"Who is Zelda?" Apheri demands, completely out of her depth as far as this conversation goes. "One of the maidens you mentioned?"

"Yes," Hunter confirms. "Also Crown Princess of Hyrule, also the Seventh Sage, also Bearer of the Triforce of Wisdom, also a Person of Some Importance to Your King."

"Some importance, eh?" she says, shooting me a sideways glance. "Hylian, I'm guessing?"

Here we go, Zelda sighs.

"Don't," I say, pointing accusingly at her. "Don't start. I get enough of that back home, I don't need it here."

She raises her hands in a defensive gesture and I scowl fiercely at her.

"Could we focus?" Hunter asks. "Just for like…two seconds. Can she tell us where she is?"

"She's doesn't know. Another Sentinel has her – wearing her crystal as a ring, riding around on a three-headed turtle named Trinexx."

"Revanas," says Apheri, blinking in surprise.

"Say again?" I ask, turning back to her.

"The avatar you just described," Apheri clarifies. "I've heard stories. Her name is Revanas. She wanders the Dark World on the back of a giant, three-headed turtle."

"I know that name," says Hunter. "It's one of the few we remember in our stories. She's supposed to be the eldest of the sentinels. She's an oracle of some kind. Though…she was male in our stories."

"Everyone is male in your stories," Neesha says, making a face.

"Well everyone is female in yours," he retorts.

"Yeah but we have a reason for that!"

"The Sentinels don't really have a gender," I remind them both.

"Does she actually know the future?" Neesha demanded. "Because we're in some trouble if she does."

"How can she?" Hunter demands. "The future's mutable, or so I thought."

"Mutable isn't unknowable," I point out. "Zelda's visions are almost always about the future. Some of them come true, some don't, but what she sees is always a possibility that needs to be considered. It's something that could come true."

Nicely said, Link, Zelda notes, amused. It's good to know you do occasionally listen to me.

"I try," I say with mock humility.

Neesha gives me a dull look. "Could you…answer her in your head, or something? It's going to get really annoying trying to figure out if you're talking to her or to us."

"I don't know," I say, then add mentally, can I?

If you tried it there, I didn't hear it, Zelda says. Don't just think it, think it at me.

I make a face and try again. I am thinking at you. At you. Aaaattt yyyoooouuuu.

Caught the tail end of that. Have no idea what you were trying to say, but I caught it. You're going to need to practice.

"Great," I mutter. "Yes, apparently I can answer her internally, but I suck at it."

"Is that my problem, or yours?" Neesha demands.

"I can make it yours," I offer with a threatening smile.

"Guys, I'm begging you," Hunter says, "focus. So we still don't know where she is, but she can communicate with us which is useful. We have her map – finally – and we can find the other Maidens in the meantime. Link, before you passed out you were saying something about the Moon Pearl and Sahasrahla. Finish the thought."

"Ummm, just that he used to have one, but he said he lost it. Said it worked with my mirror."

The three of us exchange a glance, and I shove my hand into the pouch to find the Mirror. Hunter passes me the Moon Pearl, and I hold it up against the indent in the top of it where Sahasrahla's Pearl used to sit. "What are the odds that this is the right one?" I ask.

"It's the right size," Neesha points out.

"And if it's associated with the Sacred Realm – which if it's from that mirror it would be – Aghanim would have been interested in it," Hunter adds. "Would make sense that he had it."

"You said it was incredibly rare," Apheri notes. "How many are there?"

"A handful," Hunter answers. "Maybe less. It's not unreasonable that this is Sahasrahla's. It's gotta be what's pushing the Dark World back. Why the Beast is gone. It's the only thing we've got that would explain it. And if the Pearl alone can do that, combined with the Mirror…"

Did Sahasrahla say what it would do when it was in the Mirror? Zelda asks.

"No," I say, shaking my head, then blink when the others stare blankly at me. "Sorry – Zelda asked whether I know what it does in the mirror. He just said the mirror used to have other powers but he didn't go into it. Oh!" I cut myself off abruptly, startling them. "But Anduriel did! She said it used to let you travel back and forth between the Dark World and regular old Hyrule."

All eyes turn to the pearl in my hand, considering the implications of that possibility. Neesha's eyes light up with hope, but the rest of us are slower, more cautious. We've been here too long to let hope run free now.

Zelda is the first to brave a comment. Link, that could be your ticket to getting the maidens home.

"Do it," says Neesha, but Hunter shakes his head.

"We don't know if we'll be able to get back," he points out. "There are still four Maidens left. What if we leave and they're stuck here?"

He's right.

"Rue and the Sages can figure out how to get us back," Neesha says. "We know we can get past the Seals. And if the Mirror can get us out, I bet it can get us back."

She's…probably right, but that's a big risk. I—Link, watch out!

Neesha has taken advantage of my hesitation to lean across and grab the hand holding the pearl over the indent. She drives it down, popping the brilliant jewel into the convenient gap in the Mirror and flattening my hand onto the glass.

"Neesha!" I cry, but something shifts in the reflection of the mirror, and then something shifts in the world around me. The cold greenish-grey of the mire blurs violently, begins to shift to something more yellow, and my stomach lurches as I get the distinct impression that I'm falling from a very high place, through some kind of hole in the world.

I close my eyes to keep from being sick and hear four distant, panicked shouts of "Link!" – three of them verbal, one of them mental.

But before I can answer I land, hard, on something dry, loose and gritty. I open my eyes slowly, shielding them from the sudden, invasively bright light, and it takes me a moment to focus. When I do my mind reels and all I manage to accomplish is staring around like a stunned fool, unable to comprehend what I'm seeing. I lurch to my feet and spin in a circle, closing my eyes and jamming the heels of my hands into them once, and then again, more violently. My brain refuses to accept the sea of yellow sand around me, or the all-too familiar heat of the air, already drying out my mud-caked clothes. I press a hand to my chest, afraid I'm about to have a heart attack.

There's a sound like lightning that causes me to jump out of my skin and Hunter and Neesha suddenly fall out of mid air to land with grunts on the ground beside me.

"What…the Hell?" Neesha snarls. "Hunter, you ass!"

"You're going to shove one powerful artifact of unknown purpose into another without thinking through the consequences, I can shove you through a mysterious portal that goes I don't know where without thinking of them either!" he snarls back. But Neesha doesn't respond. She's just clued in to the shift in scenery and her large eyes are wide with shock. Hunter's expression mirrors hers in short order.

"Guys," I manage hoarsely, turning to them and sinking back to my knees in the sand as I acknowledge the only possible explanation. "We're home…"