Chapter Twelve Rebels in the Dark

   Epona pawed anxiously at the ground, waiting for something to happen, and Zelda, riding on top the roan, clad in her golden armor and violet cape, sword at her hip, was in the same position.  Beside her, mounted on their own steeds, were Impa and Saria, and Ruto.  Rauru was flying overhead, his wings finally healed.  Darunia and Nabooru were with their regiments on the field of battle.

   Zelda stared out through the early autumn mist, trying to catch a glimpse of the enemy army.  Sure enough, there they were, an evil mix of Hylians, Stygians, Lizaflos, and all other dark creatures of the world.  She thought that she could almost hear them snarling and growling for the battle to commence.  So it had been four times in the last month, and the way things were looking, so it would be once more.  Zelda's eyes roamed among her own army lined up before her.  They were hurt, tired, and for the most part untrained, but they met each battle with courage and determination, enough to make Zelda's chest swell with pride, even though each battle had ended with the Hylian army being pushed back a little more.  They were now less than a day's travel from the city, and only a half-day's travel from the Great Hylian Wall.  They were losing ground, albeit slowly.

   That would soon change, but unfortunately it did not look like that change would work in their favor.  What Ganon's army lacked in coordination and will, they made up for in sheer numbers.  Indeed, the only reason the Hylian army had lasted this long was due to their indomitable fighting spirit.

   But that spirit was dying.  As Zelda looked over the troops, she could see the slump of their shoulders, the wearied and sore looks on their faces.  The Hylians of this age hadn't been built for war, and it was that weakness—or perhaps strength—that would be their downfall.

   Another big reason for their survival so far, she believed, also had to do with the strange inactivity displayed by Rolondrof and the absence of Skorn.  From the descriptions offered by Impa, Nabooru, and Link, Skorn was a weapon of war in the shape of a man.  Alone, he should have been able to decimate the Hylian army, but so far he had not yet made an appearance.  And Rolondrof was a powerful mage, and Zelda was positive that he had some diabolical spells up his sleeves.

   Sighing heavily, Zelda continued to stare out at the enemy army.  As if on cue, she saw Rolondrof step into view on top of a wheeled platform.  With that, the army started a slow march towards them, taking their time, taunting them.  "Steady…" she heard General Gustan call from the frontline as he began to lead the men forward.  "Nobody panic."

   "So it begins," Ruto muttered from beside her.  "Again."

   "There is something else, though," Rauru said as he landed behind Zelda on Epona's rear.  "I sense that something…dark…is about to happen.  Rolondrof is going to do something."

   Had she been paying attention, Zelda would have agreed with him.  But her attention had never wavered from Rolondrof's figure.  She could sense the evil forming around him, being gathered into his form.  Slowly, he raised his arms, as if lifting something.

   And then it happened.

   It started slowly, so small that Zelda hardly even noticed.  But as the enemy army continued its steady approach, she saw what was happening more clearly.  It started with the morning sun becoming clouded over, darkening the field of battle.  But then the ground before the approaching enemy began to smoke with a deep, black fog.  The fog steadily rose higher and higher, and it wasn't until it had rose a foot off the ground that Zelda realized what was happening.  "Oh my goddess…" she gasped.

   "The fog," Saria said, so quietly that she was barely heard.  "It's covering them up!  We won't be able to see!"

   "And no doubt they'll still be able to," Ruto hissed.

   She was right.  The darkness was now waist height, and with a deafening roar, the evil army broke into a full sprint.  The cloud now completely covered them and was still rising.  The Hylian army began to panic as they too realized what was happening.  Their ranks broke and they bumped into each other as they fought the urge to flee.  Zelda could just barely hear Darunia and Gustan bellowing for them to remain calm.

   "I might be able to clear it," Rauru said as he rose back into the air.  "But I need to get closer!"

   "Might," Zelda echoed to herself.  'Might' wasn't good enough, not if her people were to survive this battle.  She knew almost instinctively that Rauru alone didn't have the power to clear the fog.  He would need help.

   "Epona!  HYAH!" and before anyone else realized what was happening, she and Epona were charging through the ranks to the frontline.

   "NO!" she heard Impa yell, but she drowned it out, focusing all her energy and concentration on what would be needed.  The ranks parted in her passing, the soldiers in awe of the golden blur their princess appeared to be. 

   The other Sages watched her race to the front, a fierce look of determination on her face, eyes blazing with power as a golden aura formed around her.  Though she had never been as active or as obvious in the display of her power as Link, the Sages sometimes forgot that Zelda was the bearer of the Triforce's power, and coupled with her own innate skill, her power far overshadowed theirs.  If Link had been the deadliest creature to ever live, Zelda was quite possibly the most magical.  If anyone could shatter the darkness, it would be her.

   Zelda could have cared less about this however.  All she concerned herself with as she rode increasingly closer to the darkness was gathering enough magic to shatter the veil of darkness.  Overhead, Rauru struggled to keep up with her and Epona, also calling on his ancient magic and wisdom.  As Zelda and Epona broke through the front and continued their charge, Darunia roared the Goron battle cry and charged after her, his men following right behind him.  The rest of the army charged as well, rallying behind their future queen's courage.

   Zelda was enveloped by the mist, completely clouding her vision, and the cry of the enemy army was almost deafening.  She drew her sword feeling the power within her boiling over.  Raising her sword to the sky, she cried out and unleashed her power, just as Rauru released his.  A beam of golden light shot through the cloud, parting the fog and releasing the sun.  Had she been able to see, she would have noticed the enemy army halt in surprise, blinded by the sudden light.  She didn't need to, though; by then the battle was joined, the Hylians fighting like demons.  Fighting off the fatigue from the casting of her spell and possessed by the warrior courage that she had inherited from her father, she raised her blade once again and joined her countrymen, screaming the Hylian battle cry.

   "HYLLLIIIIAAAA!!!"

                                    *                                  *                                  *

   Rolondrof struggled for breath on top of his platform, leaning heavily on the shoulder of a tall Lizaflo.  He couldn't believe what had just happened; it wasn't fair.  It had taken him weeks to prepare the darkness spell, and in a manner of moments that…girl…had broken through it.  It would take him even longer than before to cast the spell again, if ever.

   It just wasn't fair.

   "I will kill her…" he rasped, coughing up blood and clutching his four-fingered hand to his chest.  "I will kill them all!

   "Then I suggest you do it soon, my lord," the Lizaflo hissed.  "We are losing."

   Indeed, the dark forces were being driven back, so fierce was the Hylian attack.  Their greater numbers were not helping Rolondrof's forces; the Hylians were fighting like cornered animals.

   And leading them, astride the fastest, smartest horse in history, was one young woman, a princess, untrained in the arts of war.  The princess was raining blow upon blow from astride the roan, striking down enemies much like her brother had been known to do.

   Growling in blind rage, Rolondrof grabbed the Lizaflo's collar and pulled the reptilian head down so it was level with his own.  "I am warning you right now; if she leaves here alive, you will not.  Kill her.  Even if you have to slaughter our own men, I want Zelda dead!"

   Sneering down at the little man, the Lizaflo called two archers up to the platform.  He pointed towards Zelda.  "The golden eagle," he hissed.  "Shoot her down."

                                    *                                  *                                  *

   Zelda struck down another Staflos, and Epona turned her around just in time to strike down another.  Again and again and again.

   The rational part of her that had always dominated her actions knew that she had no business in the frontlines of a battle; she had been trained in only the most rudimentary of combat skills.  But rationality no longer played a part now.  She was fighting purely on passion; she would not let her country be taken away from her people.

   She would not let Ganon win.

   Then she heard a sharp 'ting' and felt a small pressure on her breastplate.  She looked down on the ground before her and saw an arrow lying there.  A moment later she felt a splitting pain in her right shoulder, causing her to drop her sword.  She managed a small cry and looked down to see another shaft sticking out of the gap between her breastplate and shoulder guard.  For a moment, she felt an inexplicable wave of irony wash over her, followed by a fresh wave of pain.  Her vision began to cloud, and only the sudden shock of falling off of Epona kept her from blacking out.  She was dimly aware of the horse standing over her, kicking out with her strong legs, protecting her.  She thought she heard Darunia call out and appear before her, General Gustan at his side.  She saw their mouths moving, but couldn't discern the words.  Gustan nodded his head and got astride Epona, and she felt Darunia's massive arms lift her into the saddle before the general.  By then even the slipstream created by Epona's swift passing couldn't prevent her from falling into darkness.

                                    *                                  *                                  *

   Smitts' eyes darted nervously back and forth over the western plains as he led the wagon closer towards the city gates.  For the umpteenth time, he cursed Bones and Ganon, then immediately repented the latter.  Ever since his employer's return, Smitts had been in charge of making the raids on the outlying farms for their food, and he had decided that he hated that even more than guard duty in the inn.  Not only did it take him away from ready supplies of ale and his nice warm seat, he also had to live in fear of the Gladiator and his band of rebels.

   That was the name the mercs had given Link, ever since he had began his campaign against Clock Town's current occupants.  He didn't know where it had started, but like all great outlaws of legend, the name stuck and struck fear into the hardened mercs.  It was hard to believe that in only in a month the former King of the Cage had taken a band of cowardly townsfolk and mold them into a group of rebels bold enough to bring the attack to their tormentors.

   Which was why Smitts hated raiding.  Unfortunately, he was still more afraid of Ganon than of Link at this point.

   They were only a couple of hours from town.  Soon, they'd be able to see the walls of the city, and then they'd be safe.  He looked around, glancing at the pair of escorts on either side.  He took comfort in the fact that they were still there, along with the other four following the wagon.  They were in a wide open plain, so there was no chance of an ambush.  They were heavily armed and ready for anything.  It looked like this would be one of the few wagons that actually made it back to town.

   Which was why Smitts was so surprised to four riderless horses gallop past him.

   He didn't have time to react, as he heard the sound of two arrows cutting through the air from either side of the wagon and striking the nearest guards followed quickly by two more, taking out the remaining guards.  But the angle of the wounds meant that the arrows must have come from inside the wagon.

   "I know what you're thinking," an all too familiar voiced said in his ear, the cold feeling of a blade being pressed against his throat.  "'The only way that could have worked is if they were inside the wagon'.  Got it in one, Smitts."

   Out of the corner of his eye, Smitts saw another figure take the seat beside him.  It was a young man in a green bandanna, tufts of orange hair poking out from under it.  He grinned mischievously at Smitts and took the reins from his hands, bringing the horses to a stop.  Smitts didn't move an inch.

   "Now," Link went on.  "Seeing as how we're old friends, I'm going to let you go home and change those wet pants of yours.  After that, I want you to send Ganon a message.  Tell him that his time in Termina is over, that his reign of terror in both the worlds…"

   "B-b-both?"

   "Pay attention!" Link pressed the knife a little closer to Smitts' throat as he tucked a piece of paper into the other man's tunic.  "Tell him that Link is coming for him to settle old scores, and that only one of us will be walking away.  Tell him that one is going to be me."  With that he shoved Smitts off the seat.  The merc scrambled quickly to his feet and began sprinting back towards Clock Town.

   Boomer turned the horses around and set them off as fast as they could go.  His grinned widened as he saw the look of disgust on Link's face.  "You know, I really think you enjoy that.  Acting all scary and evil like that."

   Link grimaced.  "It's the only language they understand," he explained.  "I feel dirty having to stoop to their level.  But if the rebellion is going to succeed, they're going to have to fear us first."

   "Still," Boomer pressed as he steered them back to base.  "You can't tell me that you didn't enjoy scaring the pants off of Smitts there."

   For a moment, Link remained silent.  Then a guilty smile crept slowly across his face.  "Well…maybe just a little."

                                    *                                  *                                  *

   Link and Boomer led the wagon down along the coast and through the back entrance to the rebel base, a little farther south of the main entrance.  They drove into a grove of closely packed trees and stopped on a wide flat rock, where Link dropped to the ground and rapped four times on the stone, waited a moment, then knocked three more times.  A moment later, a section of the rock moved away and out jumped three more rebels.  They greeted each other and went about unpacking the provisions from the back of the wagon.  One of the men was smiling as he came out with an arm-full of bread.  "Still haven't got the smarts to look underneath the wagon yet, huh?"

   He was referring to the large gaping hole underneath the wagon.  The technique Link had devised for such a raid was to hide attached to the under-belly of the wagon when the mercs were occupied, then cut out a man-sized hole with his sword once they were under way.  By the time the rebels had snuck into the wagon, the mercs were well on their way, completely oblivious.

   "Well Mak, as far as a mercenary is concerned, brawn is preferable to brains," Link laughed.  Once they were done he handed over the reins to Mak so the rebel could ditch the wagon in the small junkyard they had made further in.  Link followed Boomer down into the hole, shutting the trapdoor behind them.  Before Link's arrival, the rebels had only been using one door in their hideout, and Link had been on enough adventures to that there should always be another way out of anything.  He and Scrat had searched for a couple days until they found the tunnel leading out into the woods that became their back door.

   After a quarter of an hour they emerged from the tunnel into the sunny sky overlooking their base.  The camp was in a flurry of motion, everyone working on something or other.  Some were cooking, others building, other training.  Which reminded Link…

   "Finish unpacking and then get the class down to the pool," he told Boomer.  "I need to see Scrat, then I'll come right down."  Boomer gave him an enthusiastic salute and a grin, and went back to work.  Link smiled as he headed down into camp.  He was greeted by nearly everyone he met; in the short time he had been with them, they had already assimilated him into their lives, and if he were to be completely honest with himself, it felt good being known and welcomed.  His thoughts never left Zelda and Malon, but the role he had found as the rebels' leader helped keep him focused on this new quest that had been thrust upon him for the time being.  Ganon was still in Clock Town, which meant that either he hadn't found Majora's Mask or that he wanted to stay until Link was finished.  Either way, the longer Ganon stayed in Termina with Link, the more time Malon and Zelda had.  And if Link was going to stand a chance of beating Ganon once and for all, he was going to need help.

   Which was why one of the first things he had done was set up a strict training regiment for the rebels.  Many of them knew how to fight, albeit only the basics, but if they were going to take back their city, they at least needed to have a fighting chance against the band of experienced mercenaries.  The soldiers and the Sword Master each had a class to train, as did he, and attendance was mandatory for anyone old enough to fight.  So far, Link was amazed at the improvement the peaceful townsfolk had shown in the month since they had started.

   He maneuvered his way into one of the smaller huts on the edge of the encampment, which Scrat had claimed as his own.  The old hermit was busy as always writing down on the roll of paper the Fairy had given to him.  He looked up when Link entered and smiled.  "Hey, how's it going Link?  Raid turn out good?  Of course it did, if it hadn't you wouldn't be here, or at least be frowning…"

   "Everything went fine, Scrat," Link laughed.  "You can tell your boys that they were right again, as usual."  The 'boys' he was referring to were Scrat's friends, the rats.  As it turned out, he really could speak with them and understand their 'language'.  They had perhaps been the most valuable addition to the rebellion; they would sneak around Clock Town, listening for news of the mercs' activities, and so far they hadn't missed a thing.  Link leaned in closer to Scrat.  "What are you writing now?"

   "Our story of course!" Scrat answered enthusiastically.  "The tale of the rebellion against evil, how a simple people fought a tyrant and won their freedom!  How a stranger from another world came to deliver us from the cruel clutches of…"

   "Sure you're going to have enough paper?  That sounds like a pretty long story."

   Scrat's eyes lit up at the mention of the parchment.  "This…this is the most wonderful piece of paper I've ever seen!  No matter how much I write on it, it never runs out, and the ink never runs, and the rats can actually eat it without it breaking, though I haven't quite figured out how that's supposed to work…"

   Link chuckled and patted Scrat on the shoulder.  "Let me or Kafei know if they come up with anything else.  I'll be down at the pool."  With that, he left the hut and made his way down to the pool located beneath the waterfall.  It was his favorite place to hold his classes, as it was both beautiful and served to teach several important lessons.  By the time he made it there, his class was already waiting, talking enthusiastically amongst themselves.  There were about twenty of them, mostly the younger members of the town, including the B.G. Boys and Romani.  She smiled as he walked by to the head of the class, and he smiled back.

   "Hey everybody," he greeted as he removed his sword from his back and shed his trenchcoat.  He still wore his gladiator outfit, partly to keep up the façade for the mercs, and also partly because it was comfortable.  But he had shaved the beard down to a thin layer of stubble—the itch just wasn't worth it.  He still missed his hat, though; he felt nearly naked without it.  "Your back feeling better today, Socks?  Good.  And how's the wife coming along, Mr. Filks?  Good to hear, good to hear."  He unsheathed his sword and waited for everyone else to do the same.

   "Alright," he began.  "Before we begin, can anyone tell me why we practice at this spot?"  Several hands shot into the air, and he pointed at Romani.

   "Because in order to achieve harmony as a warrior, one must be as water: strong, swift, fluid, and adaptable."

   "Exactly.  That was the first lesson that the Zoras where I come from taught me, and I'm sure the same rule applies here.  Just like water, a warrior must be able to change with any situation, just as water takes the form of different containers.  A thin stream of water can punch through stone; a warrior must have that same perseverance.  Whenever you are in doubt, or feel like giving up, think about water.  But not after you've had a lot to drink."  A ripple of laughter ran through the crowd at the admittedly bad joke. 

   "Alright," he laughed.  "Swords up.  First kana…now."  With that, he began to lead them through a series of sword movements.  He had decided that he would teach them the Hylian style, as it was the simplest and the fastest to learn, not to mention that it would take the mercs completely by surprise.  They were surprisingly fast learners, getting better with each class, and Link couldn't help but feel a swell of pride at their progress.  He wondered if this was how his own teachers had felt about him.  If so, he would have to consider teaching for a living more seriously.

   As the class progressed, they moved on to more complicated maneuvers, and finally into sparring.  They traded their swords for wooden sticks and broke off into pairs, as Link wandered among them, helping where needed.  He stopped when he came to Romani and Boomer.  The young couple were going at it vigorously, each trying with all their strength to out-do the other.  Link couldn't help but feel a twinge of sadness as he watched Romani fight, remembering when he had begun teaching Malon many of the same moves during their trek up Death Mountain.  How long ago had that been?  Two months ago?  Three?

   "Give it up, babe," Boomer taunted as he thrust at her stomach, only to be blocked a moment later.  "You may have been able to beat Socks, Blimp, Wheezy, and even Rocky, but your goin' up against the head Bomber now!"

   Romani parried another blow, following it with a diagonal slash.  "If you say so, hun.  Just don't get mad when your girlfriend puts you on your ass."  The other students had stopped their own matches and had formed a ring around Boomer and Romani, cheering them on.  Link merely folded his arms and smiled, already knowing who would come out on top.  "Move your feet, Boomer…don't stay in one place too long.  More wrists.  Keep those shoulders relaxed, Romani…that's it."

   They fought back and forth for a few more minutes, Boomer steadily becoming frustrated by the fact that he couldn't beat her.  He took one desperate lunge, which was all Romani needed.  She stepped quickly to the side and stuck out her foot, tripping Boomer.  His momentum carried him face-first into the ground, and by the time he turned around, the point of Romani's stick was already at his throat.  The crowd erupted into cheers, and Rocky and Blimp helped their friend up, but not without a few good-natured ribs.

   "Good job, Romani," Link commended.  "You too, Boomer.  Just remember to keep your emotions in check.  When you get angry, you get stupid.  Alright class, see you all tomorrow."  Link watched them leave, Romani and Boomer starting to bicker.  He hoped the young couple realized how lucky they were.

   Lost in his own thoughts, he was a little surprised when he heard a voice speak up behind him.  "Good class today?"

   Link turned and saw Rankish standing there.  The older man was grinning at some private joke.  "Same as always," Link answered.  "They're getting much better, though.  We should be ready for the attack on the city right on schedule."

   "Excellent.  Speaking of which, that's why I came down.  Kafei just got back, and he wants to see you."

   "Great," Link replied.  "Lead the way."

                                    *                                  *                                  *

   "As you can see," Kafei was explaining, pointing to a map of Clock Town, "They've bulked up security along the walls and at all four entrances.  Ganon's expecting an attack, even if his soldiers aren't."

   "Good," Link nodded, staring down at the map.  He was in the hut that had become the rebellion's unofficial war room.  Gathered with him and Kafei around the table were Anju, Cremia, Rankish, Bacas, and Uvan.  "That means we'll have a slight advantage in the surprise.  It won't be much, but every little bit counts."  He looked up at Kafei and asked, "Are you sure the clock will operate by itself?"

   "'Course it will," it was Bacas, the head carpenter, who answered, his bushy moustache bristling.  "There's a fail-safe in it that makes sure it goes down, even if no one's there to operate it."

   "Good," Link repeated, "Good.  I'm sure a lot of the mercs know about the Festival, but I'm willing to bet they won't be expecting us to do anything on it.  They still think of us as a bunch of useless farmers and townies, no matter what we've done over the past month.  That's another point for us.  If we can sneak in through the sewers under the clock, we'll catch them completely off guard.  Nobody knows about that entrance except me and Scrat, so it shouldn't be guarded."

   "Where is this entrance?" Rankish asked from beside him.  "How're we supposed to even find it?"

   "I would also like to know that," Uvan added.

   Link was about to answer but was beat to it by Cremia.  "We'll find it," she assured him.  "Link's led us right so far, and I'm not about to start doubting him now."  Uvan looked as if he was about to press the point, but wilted under Cremia's glare.

   "Don't worry," Link assured them all, defusing the tense situation, "It'll work.  Just as long as everyone follows the plan, it'll work."  He had avoided answering the question, and they all knew it, but Link's instincts told him that that information might be safer if it was kept to himself.  Link didn't know what prompted this feeling, but he had learned long ago to trust his instincts above all else.

   He was spared any further questions by two bouncing balls of light darting through the open window.  "Link, Link!" Tael piped in, darting rapidly through the air.  "She's back, she's back!"

   "Who's back?" Anju asked.

   "The Great Fairy of course," Tatl answered impatiently.  She turned in the air to face Link.  "We went looking for the others after we couldn't find her in her cave, like you asked, but none of the other Fairies were in their caves either.  We decided to take another look at the ocean Fairy's cave before coming back and there she was!  Said she was visiting relatives or something stupid like that, but anyway, she told you to come right away!"

   Link grinned and held out his hand for Tatl and Tael to rest on.  "Great job, guys.  I'll leave right away."

   "Where are you going?" Kafei asked, confused.  "What's this about a Fairy?"

   "Long story," Link explained.  "I'll tell you about when I get back.  Shouldn't be more than a few hours."

   Kafei considered this for a moment, and then nodded.  "Alright.  See you then."

                                    *                                  *                                  *

   The sun blazed down on the Chosen as they continued their trek across the plains, though Malon had to admit it was better than the rainforest they had left behind two days ago.  Numaru and Mattalla didn't seem to mind, but Zakro had been muttering the entire way.

   "You'd have thought those dumb Sheikah could have lent us some air-bikes," he grumbled as he wrapped his cloak around him, protecting him from the sun.  "No offense, Shrike."

   "None taken," Shrike replied, wiping sweat from his brow.  "We should be lucky they even let us leave.  Konai wasn't too pleased at that prospect."

   "I don't see why they're worried," Zakro continued.  "We've been walking for damn near forty days, and we still haven't found those blasted ruins.  They probably sent us out on some wild goose chase."

   "I do not believe so," Mattalla said.  "Though I am hardly pleased with their behavior, the Sheikah strike me as an honorable people.  They would not have lied."

   "And considering they did their very best to try and kill Shrike and Mattalla and still keep their word after, that's saying a lot," Numaru said, absently twirling an arrow between her fingers.  "What do you think, Malon?"

   "I think that I'd be a lot happier if Bazillo would come back soon." Ignoring Zakro's snort, she went on.  "He knows a lot more about this place than we do, and without Link to guide us, his riddles and ancient properties are a hell of a lot better than nothing."  Bazillo had left them several days ago, saying there were things that he had to check in on.  He had disappeared before they had been able to question him, and had been gone since.

   "And I must admit that I miss the little imp," Mattalla added.  "He starts to grow on you, after a while."

   "Hmm, it pleases my heart to hear that I am missed, so my red-headed beauty shall get what she wished."  They'll all turned around to find Bazillo perched and Mattalla's shoulder.  The imp's beak was twisted into a small smile.  Zakro groaned audibly.

   "Bazillo!" Malon exclaimed.  "Where have you been?"

   The smile faded, as Bazillo searched for the words.  "Hmm, to check on the progress of our enemy, my dear, and the news that I bring will not please you to hear."

   Malon's blood froze at this.  "Wh-what is it, Bazillo?" she stammered.

   It was Shrike who answered, his voice low and harsh.  "Necron's behind us again.  Isn't he?"  Bazillo merely nodded.

   "But…that can't be!" Zakro exploded.  "They were going the wrong way!  How can they be following us?"

   "Hmm, though longer the path and the time you may need, to the Golden Relic do all roads lead.  Center of this world, the Triforce be, and to its power all things flow, like you and like me."

   They stood in silence, none of them knowing what to say.  "How much time do we have?" Numaru finally asked.

   Bazillo's voice lowered and he averted his eyes.  "Three days," he answered.  "They are three days behind us.  On air-bikes.  And gaining."