Chapter 15

Silence. The very air was still. There was but a tiny quiver from Link's arms as he aimed the bow. Focus. He sensed nothing around him. There was just him, his bow and the red bullseye. A drop of sweat rolled down his forehead. The drawstring was pulled back tightly and cut slightly into his fingers. The sharp metal tip was just a hair off target. He shifted ever so slightly to bring it into line. All he could see was red.

He released the arrow. It spun, chopping through the air. There was a shower of splinters as it hit home. Link peered at the target as those around him held their breath.

Dead centre.

The crowd erupted into heartfelt cheers and Link grinned. The shop owner gave him a mock bow, his face creased with half a smile.

"And this time?" the man asked.

Link motioned with his eyes towards his intended prize. The man looked at it, surprise in his eyes. With a shrug a leaned over the counter and plucked the large, fluffy Goron toy from a shelf and handed it over.

Tessa ran up to him, her face grinning. "Link, that was wonderful!" she cooed.

The Hero of Time laid one hand over his heart and presented his prize to the girl. "For you."

"Oh, but you shouldn't have," she said shyly, taking the gift anyway. The crowd cheered more loudly, and Tessa turned to give them a small wave. This time there were one or two whistles.

"Show your face, lad!" a man from the crowd called. One or two others yelled 'Aye!' and pretty soon the whole crowd were chanting for him to take his hood down.

"Uh.." Link gulped, feeling uncomfortable. He was still in his hood. They had been in Market Town for three days now and obviously he needed to be kept hidden. More so in a place like this shop, where he and Tessa had come to play the 'hit the target' game.

"Well, lad?" said the shopkeeper, placing one big, hairy hand on Link's shoulder. "Are you going to appease them or not?"

He watched the people as they stamped their feet, their faces split into grins, their eyes waiting expectantly. Link started to panic.

"If he shows his face," Tessa said in a soft voice, but loud enough so that people at the front of the crowd could catch it. "Some of the women might want to steal him away from me. And I just couldn't allow that."

Some of the people laughed, while others booed playfully. Link sighed in relief as Tessa took his hand and gently tugged him towards the door.

It was slow progress. People stopped to slap him on the back and invite him for a drink. One or two tried to snatch at his hood, but he darted his head away quickly.

A hand shot out from the crowd and gripped Link's arm in a tight vice. The Hero looked up into Fran's face, his eyes angry, his mouth set in a tight line. The hunter dragged him out into the Town Square, Tessa following sheepishly behind them.

"Link," Fran spat. "What in the name of the Pit were you thinking?"

Some people turned to look at them, but just as quickly looked away. Arguments were common in a place as crowded as this, and the people had their own worries to concern themselves with.

"I thought you realised," the hunter continued. "How important keeping a low profile was here. We do not need attention."

He was right, of course, Link realised with an embarrassed twinge. Yet, they had been cooped up in the tavern ever since they had arrived here. Hearing the laughs, shouts and just the sheer pull of the mass of humanity outside of his window had been driving him insane.

Link opened his mouth to speak. For a moment he was going to protest, to defend their actions and then he realised how childish he would sound if he did so.

"I am sorry," he said simply. "We both are."

"And well you should be," Fran growled. His tone had slightly softened though.

The day was hot and the air suffocating as they made their slow way through the throng. Fran and Tessa had decided to stay in the town after all. They had left the Imp back at the village. He would draw too much interest here.

They had decided that Link would enter the castle on his own, while Fran would wait outside. All they had to do was figure out how to get in. The fake documents they had used at the Town gate would not work for such an important place as the castle itself.

"I think," Fran said. "I've concocted a way for us to get past the guards."

"Oh?"

"Yes. We go in disguise."

Link was getting a little tired of all the masquerades, though he realised how necessary they were. "I still think my idea was better. I sneak into the palace gardens, then dodge in and out of the hedges, keeping myself just out of sight of the guards."

"Link."

"Yes?"

"That's the stupidest idea I've heard in my entire life."

Link made a face. "So what will the disguise be?"

"Oh, I don't know," Fran said, suddenly taking interest in a flock of chittering green birds flying overhead. "I thought maybe that you could go in one of Tessa's dresses."

Link halted. "What?"

Fran turned towards him, smiling as Tessa hid her

mouth behind her hand. "Think about it. They'll never suspect a girl to be the Hero of Time."

Link crossed his arms over his chest. "No."

Tessa cocked her head to one side and eyed him up and down. "I think you would look really nice in my lime green gown, Link," she said.

The Hero of Time eyed them suspiciously. Though they had smiles on their faces, he could not quite be sure if they were being serious or not. Go into the castle wearing a dress? He could just imagine himself finally crossing swords with Cyle in such a situation. His nemesis in his polished armour, Link in a flowery dress. The King would think that his five summer retreat had knocked his senses silly.

"Green you say?" said Fran, looking at his daughter doubtfully. "I would have thought he'd be sick of that colour by now."

Tessa nodded, musing. "How about pink then?"

"Enough!" Link cried, throwing up his arms as the father and daughter clutched each other laughing. "What am I really wearing, Fran?"

The hunter wiped tears from his eyes before saying, "They're preparing for the trade caravan at the castle. We can go in as a pair of merchants. Animal skins are always popular there. Lucky for you that I always carry some samples around with me." He gave an exaggerated wink. "You never know when you might find a customer so I'm always prepared."

"And documentation?"

"I can get some prepared from a friend." Fran was friends with a couple of disgruntled ex-royal guards who had handled enough official scrolls in their lives that they could reproduce a fairly accurate one effortlessly. "He'll give us the proper attire too."

Link nodded and they continued walking.

"How do plan to find your apprentice?" asked Fran in a hushed voice.

The Hero still was not certain where Zayna was. But he did not want to let Fran know that. He had embarrassed himself enough with the target game.

"I guess she'll be in the dungeons," Link said. Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted the Temple of Time in the distance. The imposing grey building brought back uneasy memories for the Hero. Somehow, it looked different, even though Link realised that it had not been altered for many summers. At least, not physically. "That's where I'll look first."

Fran nodded. "Then let's get prepared."

"Right," said Link, happy to have something to aim for. "Let's do it."

*

Finally, Zayna could relax. She lay on the bed of her cabin as the ship gently swayed from side to side and slowly closed her eyes. She heard the shouts from the sailors outside as they readied the vessel for launch.

This had been a lucky break. She had driven the horse to exhaustion as she had ridden like a poe possessed woman. Eventually she had set sight on Galvinda port. The busy little coastal town had been overrun with a rush of people trying to get last minute supplies and trades before all civilian traffic was closed.

She had spent a couple of frantic days searching for a suitable craft. They were either all full or were taking only freight. Or they simpler were not heading for the Morolak Kingdom. At last she had found the Fountain's Wings, an old, overloaded little ship. She had looked at it doubtfully. The wood was blackened in some places and it looked ready to sink. Still, they had been willing to take her on. No questions asked too. She knew wouldn't get a better offer before the port closed.

The only problem had been her lack of funds. After spending her last few rupees on a healing potion to fix her arm, she had worked one night at the Queen's Ring tavern in Lon Lon and had done a few odd jobs while in Galvinda. Simple stuff, really. Delivering messages between captains, helping haul crate onto freighters. Her arm was still sore and stiff, but she had managed. She still had not made enough for a long distance trip though, so the captain of the Fountain's Wings agreed to take her on so long as helped with the ropes now and then. Despite having too many passengers and too much cargo, he was understaffed and needed the help.

Zayna shifted onto her side and opened her eyes. She felt very tired, but knew sleep would not come. Her mind was still tense, anxious to be leaving Hyrule once and for all. She looked around the small cabin. It pretty much matched the general condition of the entire ship. There was just one small table and an oil lamp, burned black from too much use. The floor and walls were bare. The wood on the window side had stretched and now had small cracks that let in the cold, sea breeze. She was used to not living in luxury, so it did not bother her too much.

Her thoughts turned to Zelda. When Zayna had been but ten summers old, her mother had wrapped she in too many clothes and gave her a bag filled with supplies. Together they had walked to the castle, her mother wheezing from the effort. She had been sick, the skin around her eyes had grown taut and she had had trouble speaking. Little Zayna had been scared for her, but had held on tightly to her hand, feeling secure.

When they had reached the castle gates, her mother had fell to her knees, vomiting. She had pushed the little girl towards one of the guards, who looked at them with a confused expression.

"To the Queen," her mother had gasped. Zayna had tried to hold on to her hand, but it slipped from her fingers as life left her. To this day, she still did not know what had killed her.

The guard had panicked, faced with a dead woman and her weeping daughter. Zayna had been inconsolable. The guard did the only thing he could and took Zayna to the Queen. Of course, the Queen back then was Zelda's mother. The Princess was little more than five summers older than her.

The Queen had looked at her with kind, sad eyes and decided to take her in. In time, she had learnt to accept her mother's death, although the dull pain was still there in one corner of her heart even now. She grew up in the castle, living with the other maids. From time to time she played with Zelda and when the Princess had reached her twentieth year, Zayna had been allowed to become one of her sub-Advisors. She knew that she was never Zelda's favourite, but the Queen-to-be had always treated her kindly and they spent quite a bit of time together, playing with each other's hair or, during more serious times, sparring with one another under Impa's guidance.

The relationship had not changed when Cyle Narawan had appeared on the scene, but Zayna had taken an instant disliking to the man. He kept asking her personal questions and sometimes she would catch him as his gaze lingered on her. Initially, she thought it was just a sickness he had, but now she realised that he was interested in her because he knew what she truly was.

That puzzled her though. How had he known? She felt a chill as the next thought came to her. And if it's possible for him to know, then who else also knows?

She was dismayed when she came to learn of Zelda's engagement. Despite her title, the Princess had not asked Zayna for her advice. Nor did she really expect her to. The Advisor whose advice was not needed, she thought with a sour smile.

Still, like everyone else around her, Zayna could not help but feel an affectionate bond with her mistress. She wondered about her now. The Queen was obviously on the run, a fugitive in her own land. More than likely she would join with the Freelanders, since the war was being waged with them.

Although she knew Zelda could take care of herself, she felt a little sad for her. Growing up, the Princess had always been a happy, optimistic child. Though she was sometimes disturbed by prophetic dreams, she still managed to not let herself be dragged down. After the initial joy of her marriage had worn off, the now-Queen had slowly been worn down, as if her earlier personality was been chipped away from her bit by bit. She had become harder, both in her features and her character until she had eventually withdrawn from life for two whole summers.

Zayna sighed. She wondered where Zelda was now.

*

Zelda was not pleased.

She tried to keep the scowl from her face as they waited in line to board the ship. Chizan and Tyron shifted uncomfortably beside her. Waves gently splashed against the pier, spraying them all with salty water. Zelda squinted up at the ship as the sun shone brightly in the sky. It wasn't much and looked like it should have been put out of service at least five summers ago. At least no one would guess that royalty would travel on such a craft.

Ahead of them in the queue were all sorts of different people. Some clothed in rags, some dressed a little finer. There were those whose faces were fearful and lined with misery. Other carried themselves with a lighter posture, smiling and keen to be off. So many of her people and yet, Zelda knew she would never know them all, never share in all their hurts and their joys. But she did know that she had been born into a privileged position and that entailed her to look out for their well-being.

Yet, did they really want her to look out for them? What if they resented her for mothering them? Zelda frowned and wondered where that thought had popped up from.

Sunlight flashed off of the boat's nameplate and the Queen leaned forward on her toes to read it. The Fountain's Wings. That made no sense at all. Fountains had no wings. Fairy Wings would have been better. Then again, she guessed a lot of men would be wary of being caught on a ship called the Fairy Wings. She smiled despite herself, but it was only for a moment.

She turned to the Prince who was doing his best to avoid eye contact. "For someone so supposedly noble," she said. "That was a pretty deceptive trick you pulled."

She saw Tyron wince at the words. He still looked slightly tired, but he was a lot more mobile now and that relieved her. She realised that her words went against everything she had been taught about diplomacy, but her irritation had overridden her good sense.

"There was no deception I assure you, Your Highness," Chizan said, still not looking at her. "I was certain I would be able to hire a small boat and travel home. I absolutely had no idea that I had not brought enough funds for such a venture."

"Mm-hmmm," the Queen said disbelievingly. She had enough rupees for an overseas voyage. But only if it involved one trip and one ship. "So now you have no choice but to travel with me it seems."

"Yes, it appears that way," he said. There was no hint of dishonesty in his voice and or a moment Zelda wondered if he really had made a genuine mistake.

"Do not worry," he continued. "My guards will notify my people. They will be ready for an attack." She briefly I wondered why his guards could afford a boat when he couldn't, but decided to let the matter drop.

They fell silent and the Queen found her thoughts drifting to her one time Advisor as she watched the gulls float over the ship. She knew little about Zayna except that she had been left at the castle gate when she was little like in some fairy tale. When she was younger, Zelda had been taken by the idea that Zayna was really some exotic Princess from some far off land. When she got older that fable passed, but she did often wonder how and why Zayna had been left there.

She had liked her. Not as much as she had liked Mina and Impa, but she still was fond of Zayna. The girl, even though she was given to bouts of sullenness and temper tantrums, had a wilfulness about her that Zelda had admired.

Cyle had asked so much about her that Zelda had once felt jealous. She had often puzzled over his queries. He did not ask about what her Advisor wore or what she looked like or what her personality was like. He often asked about her mannerisms and about her background or if she had noticed anything 'strange' about her. It had been bizarre back then, but was perfectly clear now. She frowned. Or was it? How exactly had Cyle known what to look for?

She felt the Freelander tense besides her and she looked up to see what the problem was. Appearing off in the distance was a line of ships; black, menacing and covered with armour plating and cannons. People in the town stopped and stared and the temperature seemed to drop a notch. The Hylian Fleet was setting sail.

They shuffled forward and a sailor confronted them holding a quill and a scroll.

"Destination?" he said in a gruff voice.

"The Morolak Kingdom," Tyron said.

The man did not bat an eyelid and scribbled down the information. "Any cargo?"

"No"

"You'll be wanting one room then?" he said, letting his gaze pass over the three of them.

"No," said Zelda. "Two rooms. One for myself. One for my companions."

The sailor chewed on something then spat it out. "That'll cost extra," he said, staring at her.

"Not a problem," she replied, holding his gaze.

He looked at her for a moment longer, then gave a small shrug. He turned away letting them pass. Zelda marched up the ramp, sighing with relief. She was eager to see Duchess Toriya again. The Queen hoped that her friend could assist her. The plan to raid the caravan was still at the back of her mind, but seeing the Hylian navy had brought home how urgent the situation was. And how real.

The Queen just hoped that Link could find the Key in time. As she walked onto the deck, she gazed into the distance. She wondered what Zayna was doing right now.

*

Link's boots squeaked on the polished marble floor as the castle's massive door closed behind him. The guards had fallen for the ruse and now he was in. Fran waited outside holding his hookshot and boomerang. Although, they allowed him to carry weapons he did not want to be too weighed down. They did not expect him to go beyond the Main Hall where all the other traders and merchants were gathered. On his arm he carried a selection of animal skin samples Fran had given him.

Stalls were set out in rows throughout the Hall as merchants called out prices and offers. The murmur of voices reverberated throughout the colossal room. The Hero of Time idly wandered down the pathways pretending to be interested in the items for sale. Once or twice he would gingerly pick something up, give it a once over, then put it back.

He knew the castle well. Piped throughout the building were many ducts, used by the workers to conduct repairs and to move from one place to another as quickly as possible. When he was a regular visitor here in the past, he had spent a long time exploring those winding tunnels seeing where they would lead. He had annoyed the old King and Queen with his antics, especially as a teary eyed Zelda would go running to them complaining that Link had 'disappeared.'

Feigning interest in stalls placed further down the room, he scanned the hall for tell tale entrance chutes. The tunnels could be accessed by gently pushing at fake bricks positioned in the walls. A trained eye could spot the entrances from a distance away.

He squeezed past the merchants as they engrossed themselves in their trading. Link's eyes would rest on some merchandise as if he were pondering whether to buy it. Then he would quickly turn away, but not before he flicked his glance to the wall behind the stall searching for that tell tale crack.

The Hero was at the back of the Hall now and just as he turned to try another row, he spotted it. In one corner stood a deserted stall where there were very few people. That was good. Near the bottom of the wall the stall stood against was a slightly discoloured brick with a hairline crack running through it.

Pausing at another stall, Link bought himself an intricately carved mask. The vendor seemed relieved that Link had finally stopped dawdling and bought something. As casually as he could, he walked towards the wall. Just as he got to it, he let the mask slip from his hand and it rattled to the floor. Checking to see if anyone had noticed, Link squatted.

Link glanced left, then right. Everyone was too busy buying and selling. Swiftly, he rolled under the stall, his back still to the wall. He dropped the samples. He hoped that Fran would not mind. Again, he peered around to see if he had been noticed and then lightly tapped the brick with his boot. He felt air breath on his back as it opened. It was large enough for one crouching person, but it was thankfully obscured from view by the stall itself. Quickly and smoothly he rolled back into the dark passageway, making sure to close it after him.

The tunnel was dark and something dripped slowly in the distance. He could still hear the voices from outside, but in here they were muffled as if someone had thrown a blanket over them. He slowly crawled forwards, the floor feeling damp and gritty under his hands.

Link felt his way through the darkness trying to remember the path to the dungeons. His breath sounded too shallow and too fast. Something cold dripped onto his neck and then rolled down his back. He had no time to stop and check what it was. He only hoped it was nothing more than water.

He moved, hoping he knew where he was going. Straight here. Now left. Straight again. Right. Another right. Keep going. Hours seemed to pass and the silence coupled with the inky darkness overwhelmed him. Twice he had to keep from panicking as the sense of suffocation tightened around his throat. His heart maintained a deep, echoing rhythm as he crawled.

Occasionally, broken light from a grille would pierce the darkness. Through the grille he could see into other rooms, but he had no interest in doing that now. He had to find the dungeons. He had to find Zayna.

Other times, he was alerted to the presence of another entrance by light seeping in through razor thin cracks.

Link cursed himself, his memory failing him. He slowly waved his hand out in front of him. He should have touched the side of the tunnels, but now he stroked empty air. He had come to a crossroads. Where to next? Left? Right? Ahead? Think, man, think!

When he was young he knew these tunnels off by heart. Now, he realised with a growing sense of unease, there was a very good chance that he could get hopelessly lost. Taking in a deep breath, he decided to go left.

His fingers now felt powdery from all the gathered dust and his sword felt heavy tied to his back. He stopped for a moment to rest. Link had made yet another mistake. He had gotten too reliant on his previous experiences that he had not even bothered to plan this jailbreak out carefully. He swallowed the bitter taste away. Again, his time away had blunted his skills and senses. Link could be wandering around these tunnels for days. He croaked as he thought about the image of his badly decayed skeleton being found many summers from now.

The Hero caught the glimmer of chopped light in the distance and edged his way towards it. Another grille, looking into another room. From what he could see, this room was richly furnished. Its walls were covered with detailed oil paintings of sovereigns past. He heard voices float up from outside. Pausing, he peered through the bars.

Link's heart almost stopped. It was Cyle. The King was pacing around the room, talking to someone who he could not quite see yet. Link shifted in the tunnel trying to get a closer look. His sword scraped the roof of the duct and he froze. Trying not even to breath, he peeked into the room. No one had noticed the sound. He realised that his tunic was clinging to him now as the sweat poured.

"So, she escaped from the mercenaries?" the King was saying. His voice was half way between hope and anger.

"It seems so," a voice replied. It was soft and Link had to push his face against the metal to hear. "The Hero of Time is aiding her."

Cyle paused. "I wondered why he hadn't made his way here as planned."

A disturbed frown seemed to flicker across the King's face. Obviously, he was not pleased about the news of Link being with Zelda. Good. The Hero of Time bitterly wished that he had more space. He could have taken Cyle out with a well-placed arrow by now. He clenched and unclenched his fists as the thought of the wasted opportunity ate at him.

He cursed again. Why had he left his hookshot behind? This would have been the perfect chance to use it and it did not require so much room. He closed his eyes and regulated his breathing as he tried to calm his thoughts. There was little point in wasting energy over things he had no control over.

"Our fleet has set sail," the other said. He stepped into view and Link saw the thin, robed man for the first time. Was this the Advisor that his friends had spoken of? "They will arrive at the Emirate within a few days. We have the weight of numbers on our side. This war will not take long."

Cyle leaned back on a polished, wooden table, relaxing. "Good. Is my private ship ready?"

"Yes, my liege."

"Then let us ready ourselves for battle." He motioned with his head. "You are dismissed, Vance."

Chalance Vance. The name came to Link as he recalled the conversations he had had with Zelda and Tyron.

They both left his field of vision and Link had decided he had seen enough. Disappointingly, neither had mentioned the Key. He frowned in doubt. Did they really have her?

Link crawled onwards. He was starting to feel a little nauseous now, tired of seeing the same blackness everywhere. His muscles were locked painfully in an unnatural position and his back started to ache in protest. He resisted the urge to just stretch and let the pressure free.

He stopped, resting his head against the floor. The coolness spread across his forehead, yet it only seemed to make him feel sicker. This had been madness. It would have been a lot easier if he had gone along with Fran's joke and dressed as a woman. He could have explored the castle then without attracting too much attention. Link decided he needed to get out at the next entrance point.

He moved on, his eyes once again seeking the crack. His heart pounded. He needed to be free. Needed to see the light, he thought with a sour smile.

Something shifted under him. He hesitated. The bottom was too soft here. Before he had time to react, there was a scream of tearing metal and the tunnel opened up beneath him. He fell, his hands scrabbling in the air trying to find a hold. Light flooded his senses, piercing him to the brain and hurting his eyes.

Link hit the floor. His head spun as dark, angry blotches clouded his vision. The Hero of Time felt around him with his hands. It was a carpeted floor, that much he could tell. Nothing else would come to him until his eyesight returned.

Tentatively, he reached forwards trying to find something solid to identify. His hand closed around something smooth and cool.

A boot.

There was someone else in here.

"Well, well, well," said Chalance Vance. "Look who decided to drop in?"