Chapter 13

Servion Boarhound knelt down in the darkened chamber, the uneven stone surface biting into his knees. Ahead of him, etched into the ground, was the shape of a triangle, a scented candle at the head of each point casting a trio of incandescent halos onto the floor. The sound of music floated in from an adjacent room, light, tinkling strings overlaid with a low, mournful tune. It always helped to have melody playing whenever he met with the Holy. It soothed his soul and stilled his nerves.

Still. Today he felt a little less apprehensive. He reflected on his situation as he waited for the Holy to arrive. The city was completely under Hylian control, the flawless execution of a plan that had been months in the making. The King was in his custody, and Link was, as far he knew, indisposed. He even had Mystral under his thumb, though he'd been unable to wed her. Twitching, he let the idea slip from his mind. There were plenty of other women.

His hand curled around the Triforce of Courage hanging from his neck, his fingers tracing the strange markings carved into its surface. Such a small thing. Such a strange thing. Necklace clinking as he rolled the Triforce around, Servion's mind drifted back to when the Holy had spoke about the three mysterious artefacts. It had told him that the Triforce had been forged from within the heart of someone pure, then blessed by the Divine to be used to draw blessings from Above. Many myths had grown around it, many tall tales. Servion smiled. One of three artefacts of immense influence and he had it in his grasp.

Yes, he thought. After all he had accomplished he should be feeling content. There was, he had to admit, a little warmth of satisfaction in his heart that eased his tension. Nonetheless, not everything was going according to plan. The Princess had escaped and he had no idea where she was, except to know that she wasn't with Link. The Holy would be demanding an explanation, he was sure of it.

As if on cue, the candlelights began to flutter, the temperature in the room dropping rapidly. Servion steeled himself.

A wispy cloud, lightening blue radiance sparking in its centre, appeared from within the triangle. A face appeared, blurred and indistinguishable. Servion's breath vanished for a heartbeat, as it always did whenever the Holy appeared. The sheer beauty of the spectacle was enough to convince him that it was, indeed, sent from Above to aid him restore his people's rights.

"Servion."

The voice reverberated around his mind, making his vision blurry. Such were the burdens of being chosen as a conduit between the heavens above and the world below. The Hylian swallowed as he bowed his head. "Yes."

"How goes it?"

"The city is secure," he said. A sense of pious giddiness washed over him, mixing with the awe that was already present. "I still do not have enough resources to spread out to the other territories."

The Holy was silent for a moment, his face shimmering like a pool into which a stone had been cast. "We have a problem."

Servion grit his teeth, feeling certain that it would mention the Princess. The music continued to play, faint and lilting, and he tried to draw strength from it.

When it was clear the Chief was not going to speak, the Holy went on: "The Demon is about to emerge from his shell."

The Demon. Servion knew that that referred to the Holy's arch-nemesis, a person the ignorant would hail as a 'hero'. How little they knew. "I shall find him and kill him."

"Indeed." Was there a trace of amusement in its voice? "With him is a girl. She is…a threat."

"What shall I do?" It was, he mused, somewhat irritating for him to be cowed in this manner. Servion was used to being Chief. He was used to seeing others grovel before him.

"They head for a City of Gold," the Holy continued. "They must not arrive there."

"I will send all available men there immediately."

"No." The Holy's tone was measured. "You must go yourself. I will show you the way. But first, I will tell you how to find the Triforce of Power."

A cold spark of greed ignited in Servion's heart. He waited for the Holy to explain further.

"You must use the Triforce on the girl and draw me out from her."

Perplexity made Servion's face crease into a frown. "Draw you out?"

The Holy's voice took on an impatient sheen. "I am trapped within her soul." There was a pause, as if the apparition was daring Servion to speak. "Once that is done you must kill her before the Demon does so himself."

The Chief's mind was racked with confusion now. "Why would he want to kill her?"

"Do not question me," it replied. Cold waves radiated out from the cloud. The air thinned, and the Hylian felt his throat tightening in suffocation. Servion's forehead broke out in an instant sweat. Then, just as quickly as it had arrived, the sensation left him. "I have aided you so far. Now it is time for you to return the favour. Do not think I have not forgotten your failure regarding the Princess."

Servion flinched. "What happens," he said, trying to steer the conversation away from a discussion of his faults, "if the girl dies with you still a part of her?"

The cloud seemed to change texture, darkening for a moment, then slowly beginning to glow again. "Then I die, too."

This was even more curious. How could a creature from Heaven be killed so easily? Deciding he didn't really want to know, he asked instead: "The girl. What's her name?"

The Holy chuckled, a sound that settled like a chill on the Chief's soul. "Zelllllllldaaaaaaaaa." The voice took on a singsong like quality, as though betraying a loss of sanity, or regressing to some childlike state. Servion winced. "Her name is Zelllldaaaaaaaa."

"And the Princess?" he asked, finally summoning up some courage. "We should break off the search for her?"

"No!" The Chief almost jumped. "Find her. Quickly."

Servion took in a deep breath. "Wouldn't it be wiser to channel our energies into searching for the Triforce of Wisdom instead?"

The Holy hissed, dark lightening flashing from within the cloud. "Have you not learned anything from me over the time we have known each other?"

"What do you mean?" the Chief barked, not used to being rebuked.

Lightening churned again, and the cloud began to dissipate. "The Princess is the Triforce of Wisdom."

...

Fran rapped at Sahasrahla's door as the rain began to pour, fist size droplets that dented the fabric of their hoods before trailing off and drumming into the ground. He glanced at the Twins, watched them shuffle impatiently. He tried to flash a smile at the Princess, but she stood apart, standing demurely and lost in her own thoughts. Behind them the boat rocked gently as the rain pelted the lake noisily. This time there had been no surprises waiting for them. It had, he mused, been relatively easy for them to get back to the island. Though they had taken the long way round, they had encountered little opposition -only one or two skirmishes that the Twins had dealt with skilfully. No assassins pursued them. No soldiers asked for their papers. It seemed that the King's forces had been stretched thin; indeed, in every town they passed they heard rumours of unspecified trouble at Castle Dragmire.

The door creaked slowly open and the short, old man stepped out.

"Marcaster," he said.

Fran smiled and bowed his head slightly.

Sahasrahla turned to the Princess. "Your Highness. It's been a long time."

A sincere smile touched her lips. "It has," she said. "It's good to see you again."

The shorter man stepped aside, letting Fran and the Princess pass. The Twins shuffled up to the door. Sahasrahla blinked, then slowly let his eyes trail up to Eagle's face. The big Calatian looked down in kind. Their gazes locked. "Ah," the old man said. "Link! How you've grown! I remember when you were knee high to a~"

His voice ended in a short gurgle as Fran dragged him by the collar into the hut. Composing himself quickly, Sahasrahla glared at his friend. "I take it you lost him, then?"

A twinge of pain crossed Fran's face. "We were separated," he said. "I don't know where he is now."

The short man shuffled across to his stove. "No matter."

"What do you mean?" the Princess asked, confused. "Don't we need him to battle the King?"

Sahasrahla picked up a pot and turned to the others. "Tea?" he offered.

"No, thank you," the Princess replied, her voice only betraying the slightest quiver of impatience.

"Hmmm," the short man said, setting the pot down. "I'm not sure the King is the one we're after."

"Oh?"

He smiled, his eyes shining with uncertainty. "To be honest, I'm not sure whoexactly our enemies are."

They fell silent. The rain hammered at the windows rhythmically and the warmth of the strange fire spread across their bodies. A thought blossomed in Fran's mind as he recalled his conversation with the Princess back in Stonewall Village. "The Hylian Chief," he said. "Is he the one we should be wary of?"

Sahasrahla chuckled. "You should certainly be on your guard against him," he said. "But he might not even be the threat."

Eagle sniffed. "What use is it…"

Rya stepped forward. "…if we don't know who to strike against?"

Studying them carefully, the short man licked his lips. "And you are?"

"They work for me," Fran said, before either could reply.

Sahasrahla looked at them again. "Ah," he said, pondering. "Gardeners?"

Eagle growled, but Fran held up a hand, stilling the big man instantly.

"Muscle?' Sahasrahla said, smiling. "You learn quickly, Marcaster."

Fran responded in kind, folding his arms across his chest and leaning back against a wall. "I had the best teacher." He sniffed, the familiar scent of spices overpowering his senses.

"Oh?" the short man replied. "Would that be referring to me or the Hero of Time?"

The Princess cleared her throat theatrically, cutting short the conversation.

Glancing at her, Fran bowed his head, then turned back to his friend. "What canyou tell us?"

"We were hoping," the Princess added, her voice pleading. "That you would have answers for us."

The short man sniffed, tapping his fingers against the side of the stove. "There are others with knowledge," he said. "They also know of the Cycle. When I contacted them for further information they did not reply."

"The enemy got to them first?" Fran asked.

Something flickered across Sahasrahla's face, a mixture of doubt and confusion. "No, I don't think so," he said. "They're avoiding me deliberately."

"How can that be?" the Princess asked.

The short man's lips pursed into a tight line. "Something is different," he said distantly. "This isn't as straightforward as it once was."

Shaking her head, the Princess stepped over to him. "What do you mean?" she said. "All my life I've prepared for this." She licked her lips as she tried to settle her thoughts. "I'm supposed to fight side-by-side with the… 'hero'…against whatever evil would rise in this age. We would defeat it, like it was defeated so many times in the past." She paused. "Are you telling me that's all changed now?" Something flashed in her eyes and her cheeks took on a tint of rose. "My family are dead. Do you hear me? I haven't even had time to grieve for them yet. I won't believe that they died for nothing."

The sting in her voice rang in their ears for a heartbeat. Sahasrahla shuffled his feet in embarrassment, coughed, then said softly; "We should wait. Link will know he has to come back here."

"That's if the lad's still alive," Fran said.

"He is," the short man replied. "Of that I'm certain."

"Will he know…" Rya said.

"…howto get here?" her brother finished.

Fran opened his mouth to reply, then realised he had nothing of value to say.

Eagle snorted. "You are quite ill-prepared…"

"…Master Marcaster."

The Princess raised a finger to her lips in what was, to Fran, a now familiar gesture. "I wonder," she said. "Should we search for him?"

"Where would we begin?" he replied. "Besides, it's not safe for you."

"The Twins could do it."

The Calatians nodded vigorously, but a denial was already forming on Fran's lips. He needed them here to protect the Princess. A sound from the outside cut him off before he even had the chance to speak. They all looked up, their faces tense. It came again, a splash that seemed to be far too close.

"Your pet?" Fran asked hopefully, nodding at Sahasrahla.

The shorter man shook his head. The splash came again, this time rocking the hut and sending dust billowing into the air.

"It seems," Sahasrahla said grimly, walking towards the door, "that we have visitors."

...

Zelda watched the flickering flames dance in front of her, the waves of blue and yellow licking the air and making it shimmer. Leaves burned from within the fire and she gazed into it, noticing one that curled slowly like a child shifting in her sleep. The leaf turned black, molten orange fissures tearing through its skin, then withered away into red-hot ash. She felt nothing, her face a statuesque mask. Dimly she was aware of the warmth of the blaze softly caressing her skin, but inside she felt drained, empty, as though her soul had been torn from her like cotton wool dragged from a thorny branch. She was worn out, both in body and spirit.

She could sense Link's eyes upon her as he sat across from her on the other side of the fire the Deku Tree had made for them. The Tree itself watched on in silence. If she couldn't muster up enough enthusiasm to look at Link, she certainly couldn't bear gazing up at the Tree.

Zelda closed her eyes and she saw a blood red imprint of the fire flutter under her eyelids. Still unable to make sense of everything that she had had to absorb over the past hour, she clung to thoughts and feelings from deep within – her conviction in setting the world right, her faith that everything she did would bear fruit in this world and the next. Then the clammy hand of despair touched her as she remembered the Tree's words. Everything would be set right – but only at the cost of her life. Her heart thudded in her chest, and it sounded far, far too loud. Run away, something whispered in her mind. Far away.

"But," she said finally, trying to focus on the here and now. She swallowed. It hurt to talk. "But I'm not the Princess." It was the first time any of them had said anything for a while and, to Zelda, her voice came across as hollow and broken.

She heard the Tree stir from above. Still she didn't look up.

"You are the true heir to the Harkinian throne," he said, his voice sounding as though he were gargling with rocks. "Somewhere, over time, a mistake was made. Knowledge passed away from the world, and only traces remained. Many things were forgotten. How and why this changeover happened, I do not know."

A distant part of Zelda's mind noted that Link had frowned at the mention of her family name. She dismissed it, not wanting to dwell on too many things at once.

"I look just like her," she continued, still staring blankly into the fire. A hint of a smile brushed her lips as she remembered the Princess. "I was her decoy. If she ever needed to escape, I was to misguide whoever it was that pursued her." She paused, reminiscing. "The Princess never left the safehouse. I couldn't live like that, so they gave me a disguise. Sheik of the Sheikah. Apparently, he played an important part in my family's history." She flicked ash from her tunic. "They even started referring to me as 'Sheik'. It's been a while since anyone has called me by my real name."

Feeling somewhat exposed without the disguise, Zelda had torn a strip from her tunic. Tying back her hair, she had fashioned a makeshift scarf from the material. Her face remained undisguised. It didn't matter now, anyway. Leaning forward, she spoke again, "At the end of it all, we didn't fool anyone." She took in a deep breath. "They still took the Princess."

Drawing her knees up to her chin, Zelda wrapped her arms around her legs and chewed on her lower lip. Despite the fire's heat, she shivered. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Link stand up.

"You knew nothing about this?" he asked, his voice soft.

Zelda shook her head. "Nothing." Her voice echoed around the cavern, making it sound even more forlorn. "The Princess was important. The Elders would spend all their time with her. No one else was invited to their meetings."

"There must be something else we can do," Link continued, staring up at the Tree. "Some other way to break the curse." He glanced down at her, and her heart contracted painfully as she saw the concern swimming in his eyes. He looked back up. "Hello?"

Branches rustled from above. "This is the only way."

Link's cheek twitched. Jaw clenched and eyes narrowed, he stepped forward. "Don't tell me that," he spat. "Isn't there anything your much vaunted knowledge has for us? Any alternative at all?"

The Tree rumbled, twigs snapping and spinning to the ground gracefully. "I regret that there is not. There are, young Link, some battles that are never destined to be won. You think like the Warrior. Remember the mistake he made."

The young man's cheeks flushed scarlet and he hissed. "It can't be done. There is no other choice," Link mocked. "Sahasrahla said the same thing about rescuing Mystral. You're just the same as that old fool." He was shaking now. His voice dropped to a venom-laced whisper. "You sanctimonious, pompous…" He hesitated, searching for the right words. "…overgrown weed."

Zelda heard a creak from above. She felt sure that, had he possessed any, the Great Deku Tree would be raising his eyebrows at that moment. She smiled, though she still felt nothing inside.

Still Link didn't give up. "What about justice?" His voice became strained. "Justice for Mystral? Justice for She~" He stopped himself. "For Zelda." The Tree stayed silent. Link rolled his tongue around the inside of his cheek. "No," he said. "No. I'm sick of it all. People like you pushed me away from my sister." His breathing grew more rapid. "I believe there must be justice. Even in this world." He flinched, his emotions getting the better of his face. "The One, Unseen will help us. I'm sure of it."

"Faith is an admirable trait," Zelda said. "But sometimes we have to realise that that very faith may demand sacrifices of us." Strangely, her own words comforted her. It was as though the ideas weren't real until they had been expressed on her lips.

Link ran to her, his eyes wide, and crouched down. "Didn't you say I had to have faith?" he said, his voice almost hysterical. "That I had to purify my heart?"

Finally she turned to him. "I did," she said. His reaction had made her heart quiver. "And you do." She licked her lips. "But I also said we had to be better than the animals. We can't live just for ourselves. We have to help others. We weren't put on this world just to eat, sleep and play. Sometimes we have to give up something precious so that others can prosper." She felt her strength grow with every word. Or, at least, that's what she told herself. Why, then, was she trembling?

The Tree chuckled. "Spoken like a true Princess."

Link glared at him, then looked back at her. Zelda turned away. Picking up a stick, she prodded at the fire. It hissed and crackled in response, spitting sparks into the air.

"Link," she said. "If you do this…task…you'll get your sister back. I'm sure of it." Zelda regretted the words as soon as she'd spoken them. Stealing a glance at his face, she saw the conflict fighting on his features. She had no right to promise him anything she wasn't sure would be delivered.

"I can't believe you're just going to go along with this," he whispered. His fists clenched and unclenched. "It could be lying."

Zelda shook her head. "The Tree knows who I am. He knows who you are. I don't think he's lying, Link."

The young Hylian closed his eyes. "Fran used to mention something about an event that would occur every one hundred summers," he said, his voice distant. "He said it was to do with me and a Princess." His eyes blinked open. "I don't understand how you're taking this so well."

Zelda was silent for a moment as she pooled her thoughts together. "I was always taught that each one of us had a purpose in life, no matter how small." She looked at him again, saw the shadows flicker on his face. "I still believe that. You don't know my life, Link. I'm no stranger to making sacrifices." Her breathing became laboured. "How could I live with myself knowing that if I survived others would suffer?" She felt the disgust roll in her heart. "I just can't do that."

"Of course," the Tree said. "You are under no obligation, young Link. You can hide away from the world, safe in the knowledge that the consequences of your actions won't be fully felt until you're long gone."

Link rose to his feet. "You're quite the schemer, weed, do you know that?" he said, his tone unkind. There was a pause, then he said: "I'll take her to the city. I'll find the sword. Just in case." He let out a breath, tried to control his twitching features. "But I'm not going to promise you anything other than that. Once we get there, we'll find another way. We must."

"You should also be aware," the Tree said dismissively, "that the enemy has somehow been alerted to our plans. The minions of darkness will spread through the land to seek Zelda out. Link, you must make sure that they do not kill her." More leaves rustled. "You must make sure that you are the only one to slay her in order for this curse to be lifted."

Zelda laughed, a short, harsh sound that hurt her throat. "My, my," she said. "Who'll get to kill me first? Who'll win the grand prize?" Bitterness flooded her voice. "I never imagined my life would turn out like this. So amusing. So cheap."

Silence fell on them like a shroud. Zelda tried to imagine what her family would think if they knew the situation she was in now. For some reason, the memory of their images escaped her. Everything seemed unreal. Had they known? Had this all been some sort of cruel trick?

She pushed the thoughts away as soon as they emerged. Despair, she knew, was just one of many things that she would have to battle against.

Zelda's musings broke as she heard the crunch of twigs and dried leaves.

Link stepped towards her. "May I see your blade, please?"

A flicker of confusion touched her face. For one dizzying moment she thought he was going to finish her off right there and then. She cursed herself for entertaining such silliness. He specifically needed the black blade, and that was far away in the North. A sour taste coated her tongue. How neat it all sounded. How straightforward.

Drawing one of her daggers from her belt with a leathery slither, she flipped it into the air, caught it, then placed it hilt first into Link's outstretched hand.

Zelda watched, curious, as he moved towards the fire, thrust the blade within the inferno for a moment, then drew himself up to his full height. She almost had to shrink back. The mask of determination on his face coupled with the flames sparkling in his eyes made him look ten summers older. Pulling off his gloves with his teeth, he placed the glowing blade against one palm. She waited, her jaw tensing.

A heartbeat passed. A second. In the distance the clicking began again, then, as if realising something momentous was about to occur, melted into silence. She blinked, and felt her breathing grow shallow, the world somehow feeling a lot more constrained, as if it had narrowed in that last instant.

"My sister's gone," Link said softly. "I don't know if my friends are still alive. You're all that I have left." Zelda jerked as he slashed across his hand with the knife, sending a hail of scarlet droplets hissing into the blaze. "I swear," he gasped, clenching his injured fist until his fingers were coated with a dark red film. His voice grew deeper, a hard edge of steel cloaked with the formality of a person familiar to being in royal company. "I swear, by the One, Unseen that, no matter what happens at the end, so long as there is one breath left in this body of mine, so long as there is one tiny spark of life in my heart, so long as I have just one limb that I can still use, I swear that no harm will come to you on our journey, Zelda, and I will be willing to die in order to fulfil this oath."

Zelda's mouth fell open; her heart, feeling too large and beating too fast, catching in her throat as the world swam around her. Waves of shock spread though her, making her tremble. Her vision became smudged as hot tears pricked at her eyes. She gazed at Link, her would-be saviour, her would-be murderer. Memories assaulted her, breaking through the dam of her mind -seeing her family's butchered remains, remembering the sting of Kafei's betrayal, fretting over her recurring visions and reeling from the Great Deku Tree's revelations. It was all too overwhelming. Eyelids becoming heavy, Zelda drifted to the ground, distantly hearing Link call her name as she let the sweet embrace of darkness envelop her.