Chapter 5

Fool me twice

Warnings: mention of prison abuse and the death penalty

Not much could surprise Impa. Some would credit her "supernatural" abilities, but in truth, most of her insight came from good old-fashioned observation. People weren't all that difficult to predict, once you learned to read them. After a day and a half of carefully watching the Gerudo leader, she had enough to paint her personality in broad strokes: an outgoing introvert, slow to anger but quick to judge, wise beyond her years but stubbornly hopeful. In many ways, she reminded Impa of a more mature, confident Zelda.

The Grand Chancellor of Hyrule was (unsurprisingly) ten minutes late to his own meeting, so the two of them were stuck listening to Minister Chirila tell the Snowpeak story again.

"Now the yeti could see that I am not a man to be trifled with, so he apologized, and offered us his sleigh. It was a great enormous thing of whalebone and iron, the reins all covered in sapphires. And it was pulled by a team of white wolves." He paused to see if Nabooru was impressed.

"Sounds like something out of a folk tale."

"Indeed! It's one of the perks of being an adventurer, seeing wonders others only hear about in stories. Anyway, I told him he could keep his load of salted reekfish. My refined palate can't tolerate that, and we really only wanted the sleigh. So he went on his way, and my cousin and I loaded up our furs and our chest of gold. Now, I don't imagine you know much about travel in the mountains."

"We have mountains back home, actually. Most of the Hebra range is in our country," Nabooru said with a polite smile. Impa wondered if she was thinking about breaking his nose. It was the only way she could smile when she had to talk to the man.

"Well yes, of course, but those little bunny-hills are nothing like Snowpeak, my dear. It is the king of all mountains. But as I was saying…"

Potho finally arrived, accompanied by a brawny man with a cropped beard and long waves of golden-brown hair. Impa recognized him as General Forcys, commander of the Faron legion. What was he doing here?

She made a quick circuit of the room, making sure the door was closed, checking behind the curtains, sweeping for eavesdropping enchantments. Standard procedure.

The chancellor set down a large folio of notes and three pens, which he would not use, and cleared his throat. "Shall we begin?"

Impa took a chair between Nabooru and the general and did what she did best: observed. Chirila was dressed to the nines, diamond cuff-links at his wrists, black hair slicked with enough beeswax to make a dozen candles. He was the only one in the room who seemed entirely comfortable. Nabooru looked like she hadn't slept much, though she hid it well. Forcys had bloodshot eyes too; she thought he might be hung over. Potho occasionally shot a nervous glance his way.

She kept returning to Nabooru's hands. Chipped nail polish, callused bow-finger, a faint old scar across her palm. How her knuckles arched like hissing cats when she looked at the gold wing-crest inlaid in the center of the table, bright new lacquer tracing the ghost of the old king's sigil they had tried to buff away.

Suddenly, she realized Nabooru was looking back at her. Impa shifted in her chair and pretended she'd been listening to the chancellor. It wasn't often she got caught staring.

"Let us be frank," Potho was saying. "Half the court is demanding your friend's execution. In the interest of maintaining good relations between our people, I'd like to avoid that outcome… but do you really mean to argue that she's innocent?"

He meant to put Nabooru off balance, but she didn't flinch. "Parapa did nothing wrong. The way you've treated her is inexcusable. Still, I agree that it'll be better for all involved if we can move on from this. Since Hyrule and her allies have always behaved honorably toward us…"

Impa didn't need to be an expert at reading people to know that smile was forced.

"We'll forgive you this time," Nabooru went on. "Once you release her, that is."

"You've got brass, Your Ladyship, I'll give you that," Forcys drawled, leaning on his elbow on the table. "We have proof that Ganondorf murdered the guardian spirit of the forest. What's more, he threatened our allies and tried to steal their treasures!"

"Whatever opinions you may have about our king, he's not the one on trial here."

He cracked his knuckles. "Let's talk about what she did, then. Killed a war hero, for starts."

"Baronet Wister's death is regrettable—"

"Is that all you've got to say? She murdered him in cold blood!"

"He was running at her with an ax."

"Certainly we do not intend to punish this young lady for the crimes of another," Chirila interrupted before Forcys could blow his top. "But the facts seem to speak for themselves. She appeared to collect the stone for King Ganondorf. Indeed, she admits it."

"You offered it to him."

"Please," Forcys scoffed. "I think we all know how a protection racket works."

You would, thought Impa. Even so, he was right. Ganondorf was no back-alley cutthroat; he made his threats far more elegantly, but there was no pretending they were anything else. Nabooru knew that. She was stalling, finding a path through this conversation like she'd found one down the castle rooftop. Impa could have helped, but she kept quiet. It was best for now if Nabooru didn't find out who had interrogated her friend.

Unexpectedly, she felt a pang of guilt.

"You told me to be frank." Nabooru drummed her fingers on the tabletop and leaned forward. "All of you are ready to condemn Parapa, and our great King Ganondorf, because you set a trap for him and she fell into it."

Impa noticed the tension in her shoulders, the slight hitch in her breath when she said his name. Anybody who paid attention to politics west of the valley knew there was friction between the two, but she had a feeling there was more to it than that.

"So far, the only conspiracy I can see here is yours. Let me finish," Nabooru said quickly when Forcys started to object. "This secret offer you made wasn't written down anywhere. The Zora messenger… Seggin, was it? He claims he met the Wise Ones, but all we have is his word."

"There is one other who can vouch for the Zora," said Chirila. "Though, whether you'd believe him…"

Nabooru glanced at Impa. She read the question in her eyes. Princess Zelda's little friend? She kept her expression neutral, and barely nodded. The minister was watching them intently.

"Here's how it might look to a cynic," said Nabooru. "You send a message to King Ganondorf, offering your pretty gemstone in exchange for—let's say land, or an exclusive trade agreement. Something big enough he'd believe it was worth it to you. When he arrives, you ambush him. You get some impressionable kid to tell everyone the deal was something else, you were only defending yourselves. Your peasants are weary of violence and conquest, but a threat to the sacred Triforce? That's more than enough to rally the troops."

Forcys shot to his feet. "You're calling us liars?" he snarled.

Nabooru lifted her hands in a gesture of ambivalence. "I only said, that's how it might look."

"Let's all try to keep our tempers," Chirila tutted. "I find Lady Nabooru's perspective quite valuable. Though we can plainly see Ganondorf's dark ambitions, his people will not be so easily convinced."

Forcys slumped back into his chair, still glaring. "We don't have to convince them!"

"If we don't, our alliance is over. Armed conflict is sure to follow. I'm sure none of us wants that, right General?"

"Then return Parapa to us," Nabooru pressed.

"That is our goal," said Potho, "but I'm sure you understand that we can't simply sweep this incident under the rug."

Chirila thought for a second. "It's true, though… a great deal is riding on that River Zora's testimony."

Impa knew where this was headed, and no good could come from it. "It doesn't matter if he's a River Zora. Young Seggin has proven himself trustworthy so far," she said firmly.

Maybe her reaction was a bit too strong, because now Nabooru was interested. "What does that mean? Why would it matter?"

"They're a faction that doesn't want to serve the king of Hyrule," Chirila explained.

Potho sniffed, fluttering the tails of his mustache. "Do you think they'd put their own princess in danger merely to damage our reputation? Nonsense."

Forcys smirked. "Chirila just hates them because they like to flip over barges and then he has to listen to the merchants complain."

"Indeed, they regularly assault my people without provocation. But Lady Impa says they are trustworthy."

"This is not relevant," Impa said through clenched teeth.

"Pity the army can't help you out. We are all but disbanded since you people up north never want to pay your fair share of taxes."

"Don't be daft. We cannot be expected to feed regular soldiers during peacetime."

"Then expect to lose a few shipments."

"Gentlemen!" Potho thumped the floor with his walking stick. About time.

"I just want to bring my friend home," said Nabooru when the others had quieted down. "She doesn't deserve to die."

Potho softened a little. "If she was indeed only following orders, it is unfortunate that she's been caught up in this. The king has offered her a way out, though. If she'll help us find him…"

Nabooru didn't answer right away. She was in an impossible position. Defending Ganondorf would make her and Parapa less sympathetic to the judges. Blaming him was practically an invitation to invade her homeland, to say nothing of what would happen if her betrayal reached his ears. And she was surrounded by greedy sycophants looking to profit from her troubles.

Zelda was on her side, though. If only she would believe them.

She lowered her eyes, and Impa could tell she was giving up on this negotiation. "If I know Parapa, she'll never go along with that plan. And if you're trying to use her against King Ganondorf… we are going to have problems."

Forcys bristled. "Is that a threat?"

Nabooru glared right back. "No. A threat is when you kidnap an innocent woman and use her life as a bargaining chip."

The chancellor sighed heavily and rose. "We're finished here."

As the others were leaving, Potho pulled Impa aside.

"I'm afraid this wasn't a good idea after all," he confessed with a fretful look.

"It wasn't a bad one in principle. But who invited that idiot?"

Potho wrung his hands. "Owlan asked me to bring him in at the last minute. He's going to be leading the army's search for Ganondorf, you see."

Which meant this was now a full-scale military campaign. Zelda's hopes for avoiding war were looking bleaker by the minute.

"Please forgive him for being a little rough around the edges," said Potho. "That is, I know he… had a bit of a reputation during the war, but people do change."

"Sometimes."

"Now we've heard their side of it, at least. I had hoped Lady Nabooru could help us, but alas, it seems her hands are tied. I suppose I can see why she doesn't trust us."

"Don't count her out just yet. The princess thinks she has a way to change her mind."

"You have a great deal of faith in Her Highness."

"Yes."

While Zelda believed, Impa would not give up.

The journey from the cliffs to the mesa was 18,400 paces. Ganondorf had memorized that number early on. His shadow stretched before him, towering and gaunt, as he trudged along the windward side of the dune. A pair of smaller ones orbited above him, his mothers scouting ahead and returning. They worried far too much. Hylian armies, with their predictable tactics, overladen supply wagons, and generally poor discipline, would give themselves away long before they presented a threat. If by some fluke they did spot him, what of it? He could disappear into the sand sea, and all their sorcery wouldn't help them track him down in this place. They would be lucky to survive—if the leevers and moldorms didn't take care of them, they would soon succumb to the heat, or…

He felt the sound before he heard it, a low roar, like a thousand voices screaming in the distance. He paused, searching. Behind him, the crest of the dune wound toward the sunrise like a ribbon of amber satin. A glorious sight, if there were time to stop and enjoy it. Then the wind shifted and he saw the plume of dust rising in the distance. North. The worst kind. With a low huff of displeasure, he secured his woolen scarf over his nose and signaled to Koume. The cloth pricked at his stubble—four days since he'd shaved. A king, holed up in a cave like a vagrant. It was shameful. He was nearly out of patience with the whole ordeal, especially since Parapa had fallen into the Hylian king's clutches.

"Storm's coming," he informed Koume and Kotake when they landed beside him.

"Mm, I see."

"Shall I get rid of it?" Kotake offered, pale blue already shimmering around her fingertips.

"No. I will not have you squander what little magic and water this land has to offer."

Ganondorf resumed his trek. He didn't blink when the storm struck half a minute later. They pressed on, deaf and blind, through a tan haze so thick he couldn't see he own hand in front of his face. Every breath was tinged with the stench of salt and death. Sand scratched at his eyes and piled up around his ankles. He drew a circle in the air, and a glowing needle materialized, turning slowly until it found north. They were still on course. He started to make his way down the slope. 700 steps to go.

An uprooted leever came flying at his face. In one motion he banished the compass, jabbed his hand through the weak spot in the middle of its "head" and crushed the core. He worked the sepals loose, avoiding the curved spines along the edge, and tossed the rest aside.

As a rule, where there is one leever, there are more. They rushed past on one side and then the other, whirling blades thumping against his hard leather boots. A trifling nuisance, but Ganondorf was not one to be patient where there was nothing to be gained. He skewered one of the creatures with his dagger, pivoted and stomped on another. Juice splattered everywhere, and that brought the whole colony down on him in a blood-crazed frenzy. He kicked the carcass away and took a few steps back, let them gather to feed. When they had lined themselves up for the slaughter, he unsheathed his swords and charged, blades weaving in a swift, deadly dance. He cut through the heart of the swarm with a whirling slash, the same maneuver he taught to his elite guards—if he was going to kill them he would not be sloppy about it. Pulp and thorns rained down around him as he landed, soft-footed, and flicked juice off his swords.

Thanks to those pests he'd lost all sense of direction. Growling in annoyance, he stopped to call up the compass again and wondered, not for the first time, how it had come to this.

Last autumn, it seemed his carefully-laid plans were finally coming to fruition. The foolish Hylian king was putty in his hands. His precocious daughter, who liked to glare at him through the courtyard window and whine about his "sharp eyes," had found herself a useful idiot in some kid from the forest, who Ganondorf had not cared to notice until he saw he was carrying the Kokiri's Emerald. A new scheme formed. The kid proceeded to undo all Ganondorf's hard work with the Gorons and Zora, and he sat back and watched, waiting for the moment when he would make better use of Zelda's idiot than she ever could.

Then, just as all the pieces were positioned for endgame, the Sisters of the Dusk brought word that the boy hadn't collected the stones after all. He recalled his mothers' uneasy glances, as if the news confirmed some long-held fear. Things began to happen rather quickly after that, and soon he found himself in the very situation he hated most: in the dark and out of control, literally hiding under a rock in the middle of nowhere, waiting for a sign from some ghost of an ancient wizard they had dug up in the wastes.

The compass was pointing the wrong direction. He took out his frustration by flinging it to the ground and started to backtrack. Something brushed his shoulder. He reached out, thinking it might be one of his mothers, but his hand met solid rock. The mesa. As he was working out what side he was on, Koume ran into his back. He lifted his cloak, offering her a bit of shelter.

"Where's Kotake?" he shouted over the howling wind.

Her reply was muffled, but she pointed to the sky and he understood. He would be up there too, if he could do it without consuming every last drop of magic he had left. (One of these days he would figure out the secret of those enchanted brooms. Nobody learns this with less than a hundred years' practice, Koume had told him, but he would prove her wrong.)

They made their way along the wall, feet sliding cautiously to avoid falling into a crevice. A shelf jutted out, offering some protection, and they paused there to get their bearing. Through the swirling dust, he spotted the outline of a skeletal tree on the ledge above. He followed the line of the trunk down to a crack in the rocks, where the knobby roots offered him a natural ladder.

The storm finally began to subside as he climbed. By the time he reached the top of the ledge, the wind had almost returned to normal and he could see the sun again, high enough now to make the dunes shimmer. The path was easier from here, with the rocks forming a natural staircase. He pulled down his scarf, spitting out sand, shook more out of his clothes and hair. Behind him Koume was doing the same, grumbling the whole time that she was too old for this.

Halfway up they found Kotake waiting for them. He handed her the leever parts. "For your potions."

"Ohoho! Thank you!" She clapped her hands. "I've been working on a little something I think you'll like."

"I look forward to it."

He swept past her, leading the way to the summit. At first glance there was nothing unusual about the figure who stood waiting for them, aside from that outlandish red robe, but the wind, no matter how strong, never stirred his clothes, and his form cast no shadow.

The wizard genuflected as Ganondorf approached. He didn't believe for a second that the man was a prophet. He probably had an informant in the Hylian royal court—everyone in that place had their price—which left only the question of his motives. Fear, greed, or revenge? For a ghost, the latter seemed most likely. Maybe he was resolving a grudge so he could move on to the next life. Then again, maybe he worked for the Hylians after all.

Whatever game he thought he was playing, Ganondorf would take without giving and use without needing until he was no longer useful, and it served him right if he thought he could outwit the king of thieves. (They were the ones who called him that. Let them, for now, as long as they got used to calling him king.)

"Your advice was not without merit," he said, after letting him grovel for a minute.

"Pleased to have been of service, Your Majesty." The wizard dipped his head again in a caricature of humility.

"But I cannot be pleased with the result. Not only did we fail to acquire the Sapphire, but one of my most valuable agents has been taken hostage. This, however, I do not blame on you." He turned his glare on Koume and Kotake. They flinched and huddled together, clutching at each other's sleeves.

"Yo-you did agree to the plan!" Kotake quavered.

"You promised nothing would happen to her!"

He could see the wizard's reflection in the jewel on her forehead. The eager gleam in his eyes was unmistakable. As I thought.

"She hasn't been hurt!" Koume said hastily. "Our man in the castle assured us of that."

"You're taking his word for it?"

"Psh. He's not brave enough, or stupid enough, to lie to us."

"Heh heh. He knows what happened to the fellow we had before him," Kotake agreed.

"Everything is under control now. Nabooru will bring her home."

"No. I can no longer trust you to handle this, and I most certainly do not trust Nabooru." He took a deep breath. "I am the king. My people's safety is my responsibility."

"Indeed. You are the hope of the Gerudo." The wizard spoke calmly enough, but there were anxious lines bunching at the corners of his eyes. "If anything should happen to you… it would be a disaster. For all your people."

He glowered. "Retrieving Parapa is a matter of pride."

"If I may be so bold—"

"You may not," Ganondorf cut him off.

The wizard forced a smile.

"Please, Sire. Give us one more chance," Kotake urged. "Let me show you my little surprise… perhaps we won't have to depend on Nabooru after all."

He lifted one eyebrow. "What exactly have you been working on?"

"A backup plan. One way or another, we'll have her home within the fortnight."

"You have five days."

Koume and Kotake bowed, sensing that he would hear no more discussion on the subject.

"In the meantime…" He turned back to the wizard. "That kid has proven to be more trouble than I thought. Tell me what you've seen of his future."

"That boy will be a thorn in your side. He knows too much, and somehow he has the king of Hyrule's ear."

"I could figure that out on my own. How did he know not to open the Door of Time? What are he and the little princess planning now?"

"My visions only warned me that you would be in danger. Beyond that, I cannot say."

"How unhelpful."

The wizard offered an apologetic look. "Alas, it is not mine to decide when these things are revealed to me. But the God does not trifle needlessly with the affairs of mortals. As surely as you live, my king, He has great things in store for you."

"As surely as you're dead, I will not be a pawn. But by all means, continue your attempts at flattery. I do rather enjoy it."

The wizard chuckled. "Dead? I am merely… corporeally inconvenienced at the moment."

"Hmph. Call it what you will."

Ganondorf strode to the edge of the cliff and folded his hands behind his back, looking out over the vast desert. Horizon to horizon, his to protect, or avenge. And he would, because unlike the gods, he felt his people's suffering.

He glanced back at the wizard. The other man hurried to his side.

"I have plans of my own," he said. "Regardless of how we rescue Parapa, I have no intention of hiding in a cave forever. If anything, now is the time to be bold. Knowing the future ought to give me an edge."

The wizard lowered his head, waiting.

"You will be my adviser," Ganondorf decided. "And when I've conquered Hyrule, if you have proven wise and loyal, you will be rewarded. For now… accept this." He stretched out his hands. A ring of shimmering green light encircled the wizard's feet. Wisps of pale smoke rose up, wrapping around him like a cocoon. The air thrummed with magic power; the whole mesa shuddered. After a few seconds the smoke cleared, and the wizard let out a deep sigh of satisfaction as he flexed his limbs, solid flesh and bone now. A lavish gift, and a leash.

"You have served your king well, Agahnim."

Nabooru got up when the sun was peeking over the horizon. She wrote a long letter to Beiru, made sure Riza and Liana were staying out of trouble, then took her bow and went down to the barracks yard. A group of soldiers—from the look of them, probably two-year recruits from the provinces—were drilling by the gate. They didn't notice her, or if they did, their passing curiosity wasn't enough to risk running laps.

She found an old barrel and worked on her form for a while. Taking a stance, she closed her eyes, conscious of her body and breath, and let the arrow fly, targetless but not aimless. The routine motions gave her mind a much-needed anchor. Her fears circled like snarling coyotes, but she pushed back, reminding herself to live in the present, do what she could.

Afterward, she found a little hill out front of the castle where it was quiet. Crickets hummed in the warm, still air. It seemed like a good place to relax.

Except there was a creepy one-eyed rock watching her.

During the war, Sheikah agents had used those things to spy on people. Were they still listening now? Probably. She tried to move out of its line of sight, but its gaze seemed to follow her everywhere. At last she walked up to it, crouched down and poked it in the forehead. It felt like ordinary stone. The more she stared at it, though, the more the hollow of the pupil seemed to draw her in…

"Looking for something?"

Nabooru jumped. Impa was standing behind the gossip stone. There was no way she could have been there the entire time.

"I was just curious about it."

"These stand for our three guiding principles." Impa pointed to the triangles that formed the eye's lashes. "Remember truth, witness truth, speak truth."

"Hmm." Nabooru pursed her lips. "You always speak the truth?"

"We don't tell lies."

"That's not quite the same thing, is it?"

A thin smile. "No."

Your and your kin spoke quite a bit of truth to the old king, before you decided to trade him in for his nephew, Nabooru thought with a slight glare at the statue, but that was better left unsaid.

"They have other uses too."

Curiosity got the better of her. "Like what?"

Impa flicked her wrist, producing a knife, and struck the gossip stone's forehead. For a split second, it wobbled like jelly. A reedy, slightly garbled voice came from she wasn't quite sure where, informing them, "The time is 8:55."

"Huh," said Nabooru. "Unsettling, but helpful."

Impa twirled the knife, then made it disappear again. "You should see what happens when you hit one with a bomb. But not here. We'd probably break a window." Nabooru puzzled over that for a second, but forgot everything else when Impa said, "You may see Parapa now, if you're ready."

Finally. "Lead the way."

Impa knew every shortcut in the castle, of course. She took them through a side door Nabooru wouldn't have noticed, down a winding staircase into a huge, drafty chamber where an underground waterfall thundered into the main cistern. They crossed on a narrow stone bridge.

"It's slick. Watch your step," Impa shouted.

Nabooru was relieved when they reached the other side. They entered a maze of narrow, torch-lit corridors lined with heavy iron doors. Impa never hesitated at a turn, and Nabooru had to take long strides to keep up. She made a few attempts at conversation, met with cordial but brief replies. Finally she gave up on it. To be honest, she preferred it that way.

Impa came to a sudden halt in front of a door that looked just like all the others. "By the way," she said, and it was never just by the way when people used that tone. "I'd advise you to be wary of any ideas Minister Chirila tries to put into your head about the Zora."

"I don't let other people put ideas in my head as a rule."

That faint half-smile was growing on her. "That's what I thought."

They emerged into daylight across from the tower. The knight guarding the door stepped aside with a wary glance at Nabooru. Impa unlocked it and turned to look at her. "By the way."

Nabooru raised a questioning eyebrow when she trailed off.

She seemed to change her mind. "Princess Zelda will receive you in her private courtyard. Can you find it, or should I have someone escort you?"

"I'll manage." She paused on the first stair. "You're the only one who's tried to do right by us. Not saying I owe you anything, but… I'll remember this."

For the first time, Impa seemed agitated. Uncertain. "I should tell you," she began, but stalled again.

"What?"

"Forget it," she whispered, and closed the door.

It took her eyes a moment to adjust to the dim light of the tower room. At first she could only see Parapa's shadow framed by the single tiny window.

"Hey you," she whispered.

Parapa gasped and turned, wide-eyed. Nabooru ran to her and the taller woman tumbled into her arms, shaking from head to foot.

"Nab, you're here… oh, thank heaven!"

Nabooru clung to her, swaying lightly. "You're going to be all right. I promise."

After a long while Parapa straightened and took a deep breath, trying to calm herself. "I'm so scared! How did this happen? They're talking about—" She gulped. "Talking about executing me. I don't want to die here, not like this…" She broke off, shuddering, and buried her face in her friend's shoulder again. Nabooru searched for words of comfort even as a fresh wave of doubt washed over her.

Parapa muttered a curse and dashed away her tears. "I'm sorry. I tried to be brave in front of them, but I was alone and didn't know what was going to happen and… I think I said too much."

"You've been through a lot. Don't apologize." Nabooru led her to the narrow straw cot in the corner and they sat down. "Did they hurt you?"

"They didn't beat me, if that's what you mean." Parapa closed her eyes, took another long, slow breath. "I don't expect a dungeon to be comfortable, but that place—gods, the smell. The rats. Gruel or cabbage soup for every single meal. And every time the warden passed by he'd mock me, call me awful names and tell me I was never going home. I couldn't sleep much. I know it's mild compared to what they did to people during the war, but…"

Nabooru's brow crinkled. "That sounds awful."

Parapa stretched and quivered like a raindrop on a knife's edge. Then she collapsed, hands covering her face, and shook with quiet sobs. Nabooru patted her back, tried to be a source of warmth and certainty. Tried to muster for her friend what she could scarcely find for herself.

After a long time Parapa sat up, pushing damp curls off her forehead. She gave Nabooru a wavering smile. "All right. Yes. It was awful."

She wished she could tell her that it was all right, she could take her time, that they didn't have to talk about this right now. But time was not on their side. "Did they make any demands?"

"One morning, the princess's favorite guard came in and asked me a lot of questions."

Her face fell. "You mean Impa?"

"Yes, that's her name. She's the one who arrested me and brought me here."

It shouldn't be a surprise. A faithful servant of the crown, one who had built her career on subterfuge, was just as two-faced as everyone else in this castle. Why would that shock anyone? Yet Nabooru felt like she'd been punched in the gut. She cursed herself for being so gullible. "What did she want to know?"

"Mostly about Zora's Sapphire. What I knew about it, what King Ganondorf was planning to do with it, more importantly where and when I'd seen him last."

"Did she hurt you?" Nabooru asked in a low voice, dreading the answer.

"At first she tried to act like my friend. Said she and the princess wanted to help me, but I had to tell them everything."

"Sounds like her style," Nabooru muttered.

"Of course I didn't fall for that, so then she tried guilt. She told me all kinds of awful lies about the king, and said I was being willfully ignorant. Then she got out the truth-stones."

Nabooru recoiled in disgust. "They're still using that kind of forbidden magic?"

"Are you surprised? I kept quiet. Those things do lower your inhibitions a little, but they can't make you talk. She explained exactly what was going to happen to me if I wouldn't cooperate." A look of shame crossed her face. "I just wanted her to go away… I told her she wouldn't get anything from me, that we hadn't seen each other since last summer and we barely spoke then, and my orders came by guay so I couldn't tell her where he was if I wanted to. I didn't think that would help them at all, but they must have liked something I said, because they finally gave me some real food, and then yesterday they moved me up here."

And Zelda had the nerve to act like moving her to the tower—after all of this—was an act of special kindness.

Nabooru was quiet for a minute, wracking her brain. "We need to come up with some way to prove you weren't after their damn magic triangle that doesn't really exist."

"Nothing will change their minds. They want him, and they mean to use me to get to him, one way or another. But I won't play their game. I'll die first." Parapa squeezed her eyes shut. When she opened them again, they were full of intensity. "Nab, listen. If he tries to come for me you have to stop him. The Wise Ones told me—"

"Forget him. I don't want to talk about him." As if he'd risk his neck for someone else.

"But this is all about him. You know that. I'm just the bait."

And she was right. This was all a show, just as she'd feared. There could be no appeals to compassion or justice; their myths, laws, and courts, even their king were all just gears in a massive ugly grinding machine that only knew how to destroy.

"We'll find a way," she insisted, speaking over her own despairing thoughts. "Did he tell you it was supposed to be one of the keys to their Sacred Realm?"

"No. From what I understand even the Zora didn't know that, until now."

"But somehow he found out," Nabooru muttered.

Parapa looked out the window. "When we were younger… he used to talk about a 'Golden Power' that could grant wishes for whoever touched it. He loved that kind of thing—dusty books, ancient legends, lost artifacts. But I never took him seriously." For a moment she looked wistful. "He's always been something of a dreamer, you know."

"I guess you could say that."

"Well. A few months ago I was out at Tahakov Canyon when I received a lockbox. Encrypted with my key charm, a letter bearing his seal inside. I was surprised. Happy, at first, that he still trusted me. But the orders were so strange… Do you think he's really searching for the Triforce?" Parapa whispered.

"Don't know, don't want to know. I've been trying to cover for him, but the best thing you can do right now is distance yourself. I know it goes against your sense of honor," she said when Parapa's face turned stubborn, "but like you said, they've made up their minds about him, and that won't change whether you live or die. Let him chase his fables. If he cared so much about you he'd be here right now."

"That's not fair."

"What's not fair is him purposely sending you into danger he wouldn't face himself."

"He is the king. It's my job—"

"What's not fair is them making you the scapegoat for an imaginary crime," she said, louder. For one burning instant she loathed all of them, the Hylian king, that self-righteous chancellor, Impa, and the princess most of all because it had been her plan, it was her fault Parapa was here. "I'm not going to let them use you anymore!"

Parapa stared unseeing at the wall. "The Sisters of the Dusk exist for this reason. Any mission could be our last." Her voice broke. "I knew that going in."

Nabooru pulled her into another hug. "No, no. Don't you give up yet."

"I'm not. But… I don't know what we're going to do."

They were quiet for a little while.

"You still have that lockbox?"

"No. I left it in my cache at the canyon."

"Wait… wait." She sat bolt upright, struck by an epiphany. "Tahakov Canyon, you said? A few months ago? That's it!" She clasped Parapa's hands, eyes bright with renewed hope. "That's how we prove you're innocent."

There was no pleasant breeze in the courtyard today. Link wiped his sweaty face on his sleeve and tried to keep a bit of distance between himself and the princess. Impa had met him at the front gate and escorted him in, robbing him of his usual dip in the moat.

"Then she jumped right out the window and went surfing down the roof! It was amazing," Zelda gushed. "But she acted like it was nothing. Did you know she became head of the fortress when she was sixteen?"

"Really? I hadn't heard that." In truth, there was a lot he didn't know about the sages.

Zelda bit her lip. "I'll be sixteen in four years."

"Yeah," he said, wondering what Sheik had been like at sixteen. A hardened warrior? Still a lost princess? Something between? "I mean, that's a ways off."

"She told me to start acting like a queen. I'm not really sure what she meant. Link…" She gave him one of those long, searching gazes, halfway between awe and worry. "How did you manage it? Waking up as an adult, suddenly having all that on your shoulders."

He scuffed his toes in the grass. "I don't know. Just kept moving, I guess."

For a minute she was lost in thought. "I'm sorry you've been dragged into this again. You were chosen by destiny, but… I think we're on a different path now." She looked at him with eyes like bottomless blue pools. "What I mean to say is, you've already saved Hyrule. I can hardly ask any more of you. If you don't want to—"

"I'll fight for you," he interrupted, because he couldn't bear to hear her say that, after everything. "In the past or the future. Always."

Peace has returned to Hyrule… it is time for us to say goodbye. He brushed the memory aside.

"You'll always be our hero," said Zelda, "but I hope you won't have to fight this time."

"Don't worry. I'm good at it."

"You're good at lots of things."

"I used to be good at playing the ocarina." There it was again, the ugly feeling he couldn't quite name.

"You have one, don't you? The one your friend gave you?"

He remembered again that he did have Saria's ocarina, because in this life it hadn't shattered when Ganondorf knocked him down with a blast of evil magic that day outside the town gate. It had been too long since he talked to her, even though he thought about her every day. He took it out of his bag, lightly brushed his thumb over the pebble-smooth surface.

"I would love to hear you play some time," said Zelda.

"I'm out of practice, though."

"That's all right. I let you watch me fumble around at water magic."

He glanced sideways at her. "If I remember, you complained it should be easy."

The princess stuck her tongue out at him.

From a tower high above, the bells rang two o'clock. Impa rounded the corner of the hedgerow, but stopped when a young page came running up behind her. Whatever he had to say, she clearly didn't like it. She set off at a brisk jog in the opposite direction.

Zelda frowned. "That was odd."

"Do you think something's wrong?" Link whispered, reaching for his sword out of habit.

"Probably not."

They waited a few more minutes. The guard Impa had left in charge of them rolled his shoulders and tried not to yawn. Zelda bounced on her toes, caught herself and stopped. She got very quiet, and Link could tell she was hatching a plan.

"Let's follow her."

Before he could react, she flicked her hand toward the guard, and a gust of wind plucked his helmet off his head. He lunged after it, but it splashed into the moat. In the two seconds he spent fishing it out, Zelda grabbed Link by the wrist and bolted into the garden.

They darted through a hedge. She found a spot to hide behind a couple of large crates that were stacked beside a turret projecting out from the great hall.

"You've been practicing," he said when he caught his breath.

"Mmhm."

The guard ran by, cursing. Link felt a little bad for him—he would get in trouble for sure—but it worried him that the people in charge of the princess's safety were so careless. All the more reason to stay close to her.

"Are you sure this is a good idea?" he asked, helping her slide the crates so they could reach a bay window on the second floor.

"Yes. Probably."

He climbed up ahead of her, glancing around the crate to make sure none of the other guards had spotted them. As usual, they trudged along their patrol routes, never looking anywhere but straight ahead. He pushed the window open and gave her the all clear.

He turned to offer her a hand as they climbed over, but she hopped down nimbly like she'd been doing it all her life. They were in a carpeted hallway with blue doors down one side, each carved with the seal of some high-ranking official. Zelda flitted from window to window, scanning the gardens for Impa, while he kept an eye out for passersby who might ask questions. Her face was flushed with the thrill of adventure.

"Ah, over there!"

He tried to look where she'd pointed, but Zelda was already off, leading him deeper into the castle. She peeked around a corner with one eye, pulled back hastily and shoved him behind a curtain. They waited, breathless, as Chancellor Potho walked by.

"I think I know where she's headed," she whispered when the thud of his staff had faded. "Lady Nabooru was at the tower visiting Parapa. I wonder if there was some trouble. Not everyone was happy about us moving her out of the basement."

She looked out again and waved for him to follow. They hurried across the hall into a parlor, where ornately carved tables and blue velvet sofas were arranged around a gilded harpsichord. The whole room smelled like roses. Not quite as nice as springtime in the forest, but pleasant. It seemed like a dead end, though, no other doors and windows that didn't open.

Zelda poked her head through the drapes. "She ought to be coming through here any second. Unless she went down to the gatehouse, but I don't know why she would. Or I suppose she could have turned back. Maybe we should have stayed after all. Do you see her?"

He joined her, and tried not to think of another time he'd stood beside her peering through a window. Ganondorf kneeling on the scarlet rug of the throne room. The other Zelda's trembling voice. I have a feeling that man is going to destroy Hyrule.

"Oh, I was right after all."

Link's stomach churned.

"There she goes."

Impa crossed the open corridor below them and disappeared through a door.

"Come on! I know a shortcut."

He made himself take a long, slow breath. "Is… Parapa really going to go free?" he asked, as Zelda led him over to a large stone fireplace.

"Impa and I think we can make a good case for her."

He nodded, tight-lipped. Even though she'd explained to him why it was their best option, he was never going to be happy about it.

"Link, I know this is hard." Zelda frowned, noting how he shied away from her. "Are you still angry with me?"

"What? I wasn't ever—it's not that." Link scratched his neck.

"What's wrong, then?"

"Impa said I stink."

"Really? She's so blunt," Zelda sighed. She leaned in closer than was strictly appropriate and took a cautious sniff. "Oh. You do."

He surprised himself by laughing. Impa's blunt?

"You think it's funny, do you? Presenting yourself to your future queen smelling like a barnyard animal?"

"You say that like it's a bad thing."

She snickered and pushed aside the fire-screen. What was she doing?

The future queen hoisted herself into the chimney. He blinked a couple of times, then shrugged and followed.

Nabooru's heart was racing as she descended the tower stairs. If her plan worked, they would have indisputable proof that Parapa hadn't been part of any extortion plot. She wasn't thrilled about making Ganondorf look like a martyr, but it was worth it to save her friend's life.

On her way out the door, she almost ran over Minister Chirila.

"Ah, Lady Nabooru. Just who I've been looking for."

"Minister. Excuse me, but I'm in a hurry to meet someone." She wanted to hear what Zelda's friend had to say, even if she would never trust any of them again.

"I won't be but a moment," Chirila insisted. "After reflecting on some of the things you said this morning, I've come to realize that perhaps my opinion of King Ganondorf was rooted in prejudice. We have indeed presumed him guilty on rather flimsy evidence."

"I'm glad you're keeping an open mind. You just wanted to tell me that?"

"I had hoped to speak with you a bit more about a certain matter my colleagues seem reluctant to discuss."

Nabooru took a step closer, just enough to make him uncomfortable, and planted her hands on her hips. "If this is about the River Zora…" Impa had warned her not to listen to him. On second thought, Impa had warned her not to listen to him. "Actually, yes. What can you tell me about them?"

She didn't like the eager sparkle in his eyes. "During the war, King Arkenhalm placed some harsh demands on the Zora. He needed their help building bridges, canals… tunnels, and the like. They started to resent him soon enough. Some decided to break bridges instead."

"Sounds like a few of them never got out of that habit."

Chirila's smile was rigid. "Yes. Eventually they convinced their countrymen to join the rebellion. Most chose the obvious path of supporting Arkenhalm's rival. Others, however, asked why they were replacing one overlord with another. They called themselves the Free River Folk, or just River Zora."

"I'm not sure what this has to do with me."

"Bear with me; I am getting to that. The River Zora only cooperate with Hyrule for now because their king wishes it. Their long-term goal is to persuade him to seek independence."

"So if, for example, someone threatened Lord Jabu-Jabu and the Hylians couldn't protect them…"

"Precisely. Now, that Seggin boy was raised in their ideology. An 'impressionable kid,' you might say. When you pointed out how we were relying entirely on his word, it opened my eyes to a far more sinister possibility. What if… he never delivered the message at all? What if his purpose was not to deliver it, but to make His Grace believe he had?"

"Interesting," Nabooru said slowly, "but it doesn't change the fact that your people plotted against our king."

"Ah yes, but where did that plot originate?"

Her brow furrowed. "Princess Zelda?"

She had very little goodwill to spare for Her Highness right now, but even so, this was a grown man in a position of considerable power laying the blame for an international crisis on an over-imaginative twelve year old.

Then again, Zelda was a clever young woman. Very convinced of her own righteousness. Her disdain for Ganondorf was no secret. But could she really be that devious? She would have to have been planning this for months or even years.

She does what she believes is right. Her plan was far more subtle than the one proposed by her father's generals.

Maybe she had some help.

Chirila drew a sharp breath. "Forgive me. I have kept you far too long. Good day!" He departed with a hasty bow.

Shaking her head, Nabooru started toward the guest quarters. Her mind was full to the brim, and she really didn't know what she was going to do when she saw…

Impa. There she was, waiting at the far end of the yard.

The inside of the chimney was lined with uneven stones, which made for easy climbing. Link made it to the top first, turned and waved at Zelda.

"Show-off," she pouted. "I suppose it's not quite Death Mountain."

He shrugged. "Less monsters, but other than that it's pretty close."

They climbed out on the next floor into a plain but comfortable bedroom, startling a plump, pretty woman in a servant's apron as she was gathering linens into a basket. When she realized who it was, she dipped a curtsy, even as her eyes rolled skyward.

"Hello, Pearl!"

"Your Highness. You honor me excessively, with your visits through my hearth."

"Don't worry. This is the gown that's already stained."

A small wrinkle formed on Pearl's forehead. "How wise of you to plan ahead. Oh, you brought a friend this time!"

Link gave her what he hoped was an endearing smile. It hadn't occurred to him that someone had to wash Zelda's clothes, since she probably wasn't allowed to go swimming in the moat.

Zelda hustled Link out the door, with a cheerful, "Goodbye! Please don't tell my father!" to Pearl. They went down a flight of stairs at the end of the hallway and into a clerk's office with a writing-desk in one corner and a single large window. He could see the tower outside.

She rubbed her nose, leaving behind a smudge. "Almost there."

Out the window they went and down a vine trellis, landing in a narrow, grassy corridor lined with spindly cedar trees. Along one wall, dozens of small fountains shaped like birds and fish spilled into a shallow basin.

"We made it through Death Mountain, now on to Zora's Domain!"

She balanced on the rim of the basin, running her fingers through the streams of water. He followed at a slower pace, taking it all in.

"I can't believe you actually went inside Lord Jabu-Jabu."

"Princess Ruto says she does it all the time."

She made a face. "Why?"

"I don't know. It was gross."

Zelda stopped, pointing through a gap in the hedge. "There she is."

He looked and saw Impa standing by the armory, gazing intently across the yard. From this angle he couldn't tell what she was looking at.

"Link," Zelda murmured. Her playfulness had faded. "If there were no more fighting, or prophecies, or saving the world… I would like to think you and I could still be friends."

He was glad—or he should be glad—but all of a sudden it felt like his insides were crumbling and he didn't know what to say, so he just gave her the brightest smile he could muster. The garden was still and quiet other than the faint music of the fountains, and for a little while he thought time might have stopped.

"Let's go," said Zelda. He followed.

Maybe destiny was finished with him. Maybe now he was just a boy without a fairy again. But he couldn't walk away just yet. He wasn't ready to say goodbye.

Nabooru's first impulse was to run away. Annoyed with herself, she squared her shoulders and marched right up to Impa. Crossed her arms and waited.

When Impa saw that she was not going to say anything, she took a deep breath and went straight to the point. "You should know the whole truth. I was… not entirely forthcoming about my role in Parapa's case."

"I'll say."

"She told you, then."

"Yeah," Nabooru said acidly.

"I did not mean to conceal it from you this long."

"No? Exactly how long did you mean to conceal it from me?"

Impa looked uncomfortable. Well, she should be. "I was going to tell you after the meeting. There was never a good time."

"Not before, of course, or else I might not have cooperated."

"Yes," she admitted.

"I'm sure you had your reasons," said Nabooru when she saw none were going to be offered.

"As a leader, I think you can understand. I act in the best interests of the kingdom, even if it sometimes troubles my conscience."

Nabooru let out a short, cold laugh, and since this bridge was pretty well burned… "Do you think the tyrant you work for ever had your best interests in mind?"

"I could ask you the same thing," Impa shot back.

Nabooru was trying to form a retort when Impa's eyes shifted to someone behind her. She turned to see the princess, with a straw-haired boy about her age in tow.

"Zelda. I thought you were waiting in the courtyard."

"We saw you, but then you disappeared. We were worried," said Zelda, batting her eyes in a way that seemed calculated to get her out of trouble. The hem of her dress was damp, and she had what looked like ash on her face.

"It's my job to worry about you, not the other way around. Come here." Impa licked her thumb and wiped the gray smudge off Zelda's nose.

There was no way this girl could outwit her father and his entire court, right? But then she thought back to yesterday in the hallway, how she and Impa had maneuvered her into position to witness their false generosity. All of it, a performance. She wouldn't fall for the innocent act now.

No, she had other plans.

She dusted her hands. "Well, since we're all here…"

Zelda stepped aside, giving her a good look at her friend.

"Lady Nabooru, it is my honor to present Link."

He was short for his age, unassuming at a glance, but there was a certain glint in his eyes, and the sword on his back looked at home there.

Aha. So this is Ryma's little green devil.