Chapter 28

Zelda was ready. Her travel pack, tied in a neat little bundle, lay on the bed. Midafternoon sunlight poured through the small window, washing the room with an orange glow. Her elbows on the sill, she peered outside, breathing in deeply as she watched the denizens of Kakariko Town on the streets below her. Sights and sounds drifted up - the entertainers on the streets juggling for the children, the irritated shouts of the traders, sizzling fat on slowly spinning skewers. Her keen eye told her that the entertainers were amateurs, though a tug of pain reminded her that that was exactly how she and her family had fought to earn a living.

She'd spent the previous day just sitting at her window like that. The morning revealed the coming of the traders, the women in the building opposite to theirs discarding of their waste water by dropping it from buckets onto the streets, and the gentle hum of conversation. Night brought with it a different type of person, darkness clouding their features, the mischievous intent in their eyes clear. It was life, she mused. The whole town was brimming with life.

Zelda glanced back at her travel pack and then, just as in the previous four times, a cold weight in the pit of her stomach made her pause. She couldn't do it. Yet again, she couldn't do it. Where would she have gone anyway? How could she have lived with herself? An insane fantasy rushed through her mind, the idea that she could have run away with Link to live in some remote settlement - the desert, maybe - and wait out the rest of her days. She flicked the thought away without even giving it a second chance.

Link. Yet another issue for her to dwell on. She'd been overjoyed to find him again after so long and then, after that, she couldn't bring herself to even talk to him. Everytime she thought of him, her relief was blunted by the image of the slave guard, his face twisting in pain, his eyes asking 'why?' So, she'd make excuses, either spending the day in her room or with Malon and choosing to spend the nights out in the fields around Kakariko, alone as she watched the stars sparkle overhead. It had given her such a complete sense of peace; almost as though she felt herself a part of the world around her, a thread in an intricately constructed tapestry.

But then the dark thoughts would come, whispering at the edge of her consciousness. For the first time, she really tried to focus on the voice that plagued her - who was it? What did it want? Was it connected to the Cycle? Dizzying though her speculations were, no answers came to her. She didn't want to mention them to Malon, that was certain, and to discuss it with Link...well, that would mean she would have to bring herself to speak to him. That would mean that she'd have to truly acknowledge that this person was to be her killer, no matter how much she'd tried to keep that thought locked away, and that, more than likely, he'd killed others in the past, perhaps even those from her family.

Link himself, though, had been clearly happy to see her again. And, yet, even his face betrayed some sort of tension - guilt, perhaps? She couldn't tell. She didn't give him a chance to tell.

The time was drawing near. They'd chosen to spend a few days here in the Town to rest and buy supplies. Tonight, they had decided, was when they'd make the trek up to Death Mountain. Trepidation crawled through her veins as she thought about it. What if Link was wrong? What if there was no way to save her?

Shaking her head, Zelda decided that she needed to take a walk. Snuffing the solitary candle by her bed, she gingerly opened the door to her room, a soft click the only sound of her 'escape.' Peeking out, she saw a plate, now bare, laying on the carpet. She smiled. Zelda knew, with a twinge, that Link spent the night close to her door, wide awake. Sometimes she heard him shuffle, but he was careful to keep as quiet as possible. He would have denied it had she confronted him, but she knew she didn't have to. All that she did know was that, while she slept, she was perfectly safe.

Because of that, though, she would refuse to eat supper in the dining hall downstairs. She took her food to her room and then, making sure it looked as though she'd eaten her fill, left the leftovers outside her door, so that, as she would loudly proclaim in the morning, the serving girls would take them away. Little surprise, then, that when dawn's pale light did come, her plates still sat outside, but were now completely empty.

She hurried past the passageway that led to the stairs, praying that Link wouldn't be there, then she ran down the steps, one hand trailing the banister and collecting dust, the other smoothing down her tunic. The muffled sounds from the rest of the inn grew louder now, each voice becoming clearer and sharper.

Zelda passed a mirror on the way down, and saw her reflection for the first time in months. Hollow eyes stared back at her, golden hair now dull, and cheeks pinched. It could have been Death itself for all she knew. It would be good for her to get out in the sun again.

She wasn't quick enough. "Missy!" Malon called. "A late lunch for you, yes?"

Zelda turned to see the three of them at a table in the dining area; Link, his bandit friend, and the banditwoman. Her eyes firmly on the floor, she moved to join them, idly wondering what they'd been discussing before she'd arrived. Shame touched her cheeks - even if she had wanted to flee, she would have failed.

They ate in silence, Zelda staring intently at the warm meat. It was pink and tender, a spicy scent coating it. Zelda thought that she would be sick. She could feel Link's eyes upon her, but didn't raise her own to meet them. Forcing an indifferent expression on her face, she decided that she didn't want him - or any of them - to see her discomfort. They'd only take it as a sign to coddle her more. Pushing away from the table, she said, "I'm not hungry."

She'd hoped that her motion hadn't been too obvious, but the startled stares that she received told her otherwise.

Link slowly chewed his food. "At least sit with us," he said. There was a pleading tone in his voice, and Zelda both hated and loved him for it. "Are you sure you won't eat? The meat's good."

"Yes," she replied. "Everything's good when it's dead, right?" She closed her eyes instantly. What a stupid thing to have said. Slowly, she sank back into her chair.

There was silence for a heartbeat, only broken by the scrape of cutlery on plates. Then, Link spoke. "You must be tired. You seem to spend a lot of time sleeping."

The concern in his voice told her it wasn't a rebuke. "It's just all the travelling. It's good we stopped to rest here." Again she didn't want to reveal any sort of weakness. "And I'm not sleeping. I just...observe. It's an interesting town."

"Hey, missy," Malon said. "I hear there's some sort of festival just after sundown. Perhaps me and you could spend an hour there before we..." Her voice trailed off.

"We could all go." Link picked up the thread quickly. "It'd be nice to ease our minds."

They were trying, she knew. Trying a little too hard. Zelda felt a little suffocated; all this pity they were directing at her beginning to grate. Anger blistered within - why should Malon feel sorry for her anyway? She didn't know what Zelda had to do, what she had to give up. And yet, she couldn't help but feel a little touched. What insanity - a banditwoman who had tried to sell her, and an assassin who had sworn to murder her family; these were the people who now wanted to show her compassion.

"I don't think so, thank you," she replied. "I just...need some time alone. To prepare."

Link's response was too quick. "You should be with..." His jaw twitched, as though he'd just realised what words his lips were about to form. "...with us."

For the first time that day, Zelda glanced up at him, and then just as quickly looked away. She knew what he'd wanted to say. She just didn't know how to react to it.

As though sensing her discomfort, Link changed track. "I scouted ahead. There's a trail that leads up into the Crater, but it's guarded. I don't think they want anyone up there."

The other man, Gack or something, tore a roll of bread in two. "Yes, mister...that's why they usually put guards in a place."

Link's eyes narrowed, but Zelda saw the amusement in them. "I say we take the direct route. They won't be expecting us to do that."

He looked at her, but she glanced away. There was something eerily different about him. His posture, his speech, his manner - what had happened to change him so?

"That," Link's friend continued, "doesn't explain how we get past them."

The Hylian shrugged. "Just trust me."

Zelda thought she would have laughed, had she not caught the respect glowing in the bandit's eyes. She kept her lips shut tight. What had she missed in the time they were apart? Strangely finding her heart thudding, Zelda brushed the frost away from her soul, and plucked up the courage to ask. She'd barely opened her mouth, though, before Link had cut her off.

"The last time I saw the two of you," he said cautiously. "One of you had abducted the other."

So...he'd been wondering what he'd missed, too. Not wanting to admit to herself why, Zelda found herself feeling pleased at his attention. At least, the harsh coldness she'd seen in him before had a crack in it. Then again, she mused, he hardly seemed like such a cold person anymore. Hope flickered within. Perhaps the Bandit King had lied to her. Perhaps Link wasn't an assassin after all. But, as she had done ever since being reunited with him, her eyes dropped to the crossbow hanging from his belt. Her heart felt as though it were coated with lead as the solid reality of Hikirem's claims stared back at her.

Seeing Link search her face, waiting for an answer, Zelda again moved to reply, but yet again she was stopped.

"We're friends, mister." The blunt warning in Malon's tone was clear. Link, however, did nothing but nod.

Friends. That was an interesting way of phrasing it, Zelda thought.

"Yes," Link continued. "I'm sure. But she'll be safer with me."

Now what was going on? It was as though the very air between Link and Malon was crystalizing with ice. Why all this anger between them?

"With you, mister?" Malon said. "You're too young to even look after yourself."

While the banditwoman's face was stiff with some sort of suppressed resentment, Zelda had to admit that Link was looking far more at ease. His words, however, were not as carefully controlled.

"My age," he said, licking his lips, "didn't seem to bother you before."

"Well, it bothers me now. I think Zelda needs an experienced hand to protect her. Someone who's used to the world and all her tricks."

"The Princess," Link said, "has a heart that won't be deceived by the corruption of the selfish ones."

Zelda frowned. Is that how he viewed her?

"Nice flowery words, mister," Malon taunted. "But it just proves my point, if you'd be listening carefully. The world isn't as simple as you're thinking, I'll assure you of that."

Zelda felt a knot of rage tighten in her heart. She was tiring of this. They were speaking about her as though she wasn't even present. Besides, she didn't need protecting. She'd done just fine living on her own wits for all these summers.

"Oh, I understand the world," Link continued. "I know that people only obsess over their own needs and wants, except for the time when they have to care about something or someone else - usually for ulterior moments."

"Right," Malon said, satisfied. "That's everyone's true nature."

Link's eyes sparkled. "I don't believe that."

Zelda frowned. He didn't?

"Oh no?" the banditwoman countered, irritation in her voice. "Well, it's my nature. And I'm not apologising for it."

"If it's your nature," Link said, looking all the while like a hunter who had just trapped some difficult prey. "Then why do you want to help her?"

Malon's reply was quick and laced with poison. "Because you can't. And she can't."

A sharp scold formed on Zelda's tongue, but yet again that day, something happened to stop her from speaking. This time it was a hand, belonging to a richly dressed man, which came to rest on her arm.

Link's mask of serenity dropped in an instant. The boy that she'd known before, dark and tense with anger, looked up with narrowed eyes. Zelda felt her heart freeze, becoming a hailstone of fear - she recalled how he'd once fought off a group of young men who had once become overly friendly to her at the beginning of their journey. She remembered the glazed look in his eyes then, the rage that fuelled his every strike. She hoped he wasn't going to repeat it here.

"Well, hello there," the man said, ignoring the others. "I was wondering if you'd like to join me for a small meal and a wee drink." He glanced down at her plate with distaste. "I assure you my tastes are a lot more...exotic...than what you're used to."

"I'm not interested," Zelda replied.

"Oh, but dear," the man replied, an easy smile on your face. "You misunderstand...I'm not asking for anything inappropriate. I couldn't help but overhear that you're a Princess." His eye twitched. "Though I must congratulate you on your wonderful disguise as a commoner. It's very...ethnic."

Despite her best efforts, she couldn't stop her cheeks from burning. This was ridiculous. She had never even lived a life of royalty, so what did this man's criticisms matter so much?

"What is it you want exactly?" she said.

"Ah...that's the crux of the matter, is it not?" he said, leaning closer. Out of the corner of her eye, Zelda saw Link's hands curl into fists. Her heart began to drum rapidly in response. "You see...we have a little dispute with some of the landowner's here in the Town. Seems as though they aren't willing to play fair in terms of sharing crops and livestock. Awfully dull, I know...it's just that...these people are a cowardly lot. They go weak at the sight of any authority...the One knows I tried to get the Town's council to intervene, but they're just as idle and selfish as any other man. It just seems I need someone with power to...ah...nudge the landowner's onto the right path." Seemingly, out of nowhere, a dagger flashed dangerously in his hand. "Even if I have to force them to."

Zelda's mind whirled. She saw Link's hand dropped to the crossbow at his waist, and she felt nausea wash over. Blood was going to spilt. There would be chaos, maybe death. She didn't want to see it...did she? Her head pounded with confusion.

Link glanced at her, a worried look passing over his face, then turned to the man. "I don't think you need to do that."

The man growled. "And why not? Don't interfere, boy."

The air grew tense, and Zelda found herself unable to breathe. This was going to be messy, she knew. Then, to her surprise, a gentle smile grew on Link's face, the darkness in his eyes evaporating, like mist pushed away by a spring breeze.

"It's you that's made a mistake," he said. "She's not a princess. She's...ah...my princess." Link did his best impression of a sheepish look. "It's what I call her. Since she's my..." His eyes dropped to the table, his face bashful.

Humiliation and rage battling in the man's eyes, he hissed, turning away. "You should mind your words. Foolish talk from foolish people!" He made a noise of exasperation. "There are more important things in life than your fickle emotions."

This time Zelda did manage to pull away from the table. "I need some air."

Link jumped, as though he would move to stop her. "Someone should -"

"I don't need anybody." She regretted the heat that she'd put into those words, but knew she was not going to take them back. Spinning away, she made her way to the door, not wanting to look back at the others.

As she stepped out into the street, she realised that Link could have struck the man, or even worse damaged him in some in other way, but he had held himself back...for her. Once more she was reminded of how he'd beaten those men that had tried to bother her back at the first inn they'd stopped at - and this time she didn't feel fear. She felt the strange sourness in her heart that she'd done back then. The giddy sense that he truly cared for her welfare.

Blinking as she let everything around her wash over her, Zelda chided herself inwardly. Vain. That's all she was. Vain. Link hadn't done it for her - he had his own reasons. That was the truth, bare and simple.

Kakariko was famed for its production and trade of exotic perfumes, and the heady scents now wafted over to her, a sweet sting that almost made her eyes water. Musk, lavender and jasmine usurped the place of true air in this town. She wondered how long someone would have to live there to get used to it all. Her eyes trailed the stalls as she walked slowly on, most sold bottles of purple and green liquid, the shopkeepers flashing her with toothy grins.

She paused by the entertainers, long enough to make it clear that she'd noticed their performance, and long enough, too, to throw some coin in their direction. She herself knew how much of a deflating bite an unappreciative audience could be.

There were other products, too. Jewelry stalls, necklaces hanging on display, stood side by side with the perfume sellers, and Zelda stopped, letting the glittering beads roll through her fingers.

"You be wanting to buy that, missy?"

Zelda turned to the sound of the banditwoman's voice. "You followed me," she said simply.

"Well you can hide from your fairy boy," Malon said, "but not from me. We worry about you."

"I don't think so," the young Harkinian said with a laugh. "I'm just chattle to you."

Malon winced, and Zelda felt guilt touch her heart.

"You're not very forgiving are you, missy?" There was sadness in her voice.

"You never asked for any."

Malon sighed. "Do I have to? Let a girl have her pride, why don't you? I'm still here, if you be seeing clearly."

"That you are," Zelda replied. "Though I don't know why."

Her voice dropping, the banditwoman looked at Zelda with pain in her eyes. "Because, like the other boy, I don't have anything else." She swallowed. "I don't have anyone else."

Zelda's mouth sagged, regret pulling it down. "I'm sorry." She realised she truly was, despite all that the banditwoman had done. Admonishing herself for her own selfishness, she knew that she wasn't the only one to have received an unfair lot in life.

Malon was having none of it, however. "Don't you be feeling pity for me, missy," she said, her tone sharp. She turned back to the stalls. "Now...which of these would you be liking?"

"You don't have to do this, Malon," Zelda said, smiling. "I'm grateful, anyway." She felt her heart spike with a sudden surge of love. "Grateful to all three of you." She glanced at the necklaces, their golden forms slowly spinning in the breeze. They all appeared so horribly gaudy. "Besides, these look so..."

"Cheap?"

"Cheap." They laughed together, and Zelda felt some of the heaviness lift from her heart. Malon spoke again. "So, the fairy boy...he's not bad on the eyes, if you be getting my meaning."

Zelda tried to keep herself from smiling, but failed. "I'm sure you'll be very happy together."

Malon hissed, nudging her with an elbow. "That's not what I meant, missy, and you know it."

Silent for a moment, Zelda looked down, pondering. Royal Assassin. "There's more to a person than the outside," she said, glancing up. "No one has any control over the the way they look. But they do have control over the way they are."

Another silence hung between them as they walked on. With a sudden movement, Malon stopped, her eyes searching Zelda's face with a penetrating gaze. "You're right," she said. "And that's why people can change. Whatever it is he did to you in the past, it's clear to all now that with your fairy boy is a cut above the rest." She sniffed. "With all his fancy talk 'n' all. Not my type at all."

And with that, having made her point, Malon changed the conversation to other matters, leaving Zelda to privately muse over her words.

...

The remains of Death Mountain loomed over them, the trail that led into its depths like an open jaw, the steel barrier its teeth. Link, standing with Harlequin at a distance, watched the guards move to and fro, silver light occasionally catching their armour as the moon darted in and out of the clouds above.

A pair of heartbeats alerted him to the approach of the two women, and Link turned to them now, watching them draw near, their faces hooded, bundles of supplies swinging from their hands. Link felt his heart catch as his eyes narrowed in on Zelda. She looked so fragile now, so withdrawn; certainly not the same, energetic 'Sheik' he had met so long ago. Again, he felt that familiar gush of pure resolve flow through his soul; the unyielding notion that he was going to save her.

Fran was gone. Mystral was gone. Zelda was his life now, and he'd rather be damned to the infernal fire than let her die. And yet, even as he entertained those thoughts, he felt his connection to the One diminish just a notch, as though someone had muffled it with a blanket. The sensation puzzled him.

"How are you?" he said, as the two women drew level.

"I'll live,"Zelda replied. She frowned slightly. "Actually, perhaps I wo-"

"You'll live."

Her blue eyes locked with his for a moment, and Link couldn't quite tell what he could see there. Hope? Fear?

He turned to Malon. "Rope?"

"Right here, mister," she replied, pulling the cord from one of the bundles.

Link tied it to one of his arrows, then set the shaft into his crossbow. He sensed some wariness from Zelda and, glancing at her, saw that she was staring at his bow intently, a shadow over her face. Not understanding why, but knowing that he had more pressing things on his mind at the moment, Link aimed at an outcropping high above the barrier.

"Harlequin."

The bandit understood instantly, and scrambled towards him, then tied the other end of the rope to a tree stump nearby.

A puff of explosive powder and a burst of flame signified the ignition, and the arrow flew through the air, uncoiling the rope behind it. Squinting, Link saw the steel tip crack into the rock, then pulled on his crossbow until the line was taut. With a sharp tug, he tore his weapon free from the rope, leaving a tight cable leading from the stump up to the outcropping. He flicked at it to test the strength. It held.

Quickly, yet also carefully, Harlequin attached four curved hooks to the rope. They'd purchased them from a blacksmith in town, asked for a specific design so that they were large enough for their hands to curl around, and strong enough to hold their weight.

"Now what?" Malon asked. "How do we get up there?"

"Just hold on," Link replied. "The wind will push us up."

"The wind?" Her tone held a note of incredulity.

"Trust him, mistress," Harlequin said, nodding. "He can do it."

Even Zelda was looking at him with disbelieving eyes, but seeing no other choice, the four of them grasped onto the hooks, Link at the rear. Closing his eyes, he felt the familiar warmth of his connection to the One flood his heart, soothing like honeyed milk to a starving man. He breathed in and out, slowly, rhythmically. He smiled when Zelda gasped, the wind visibly coiling under their forms, scattering dust and tugging at the stump. They moved - slowly, but surely, the draft picking up, whistling in their ears.

Link let his eyelids open a crack. He saw the barrier pass under them, and almost laughed at the guards, insect-like in their appearance, still marching here and there, completely oblivious to their presence.

It didn't take them long to reach the outcropping. They jumped down to the trail, small rocks tumbling from their momentum.

Zelda stared at him, her eyes wide. "But-"

"Don't ask," he replied. "We don't have time. They might discover the rope, and if I'd cut it free, it would have fallen on top of them."

The trail curved upwards, the moon their only guide, revealing a surface coated with red rock, and blanketed with settled ash. Jagged stone walls hemmed them in, the path clearly not a natural formation. Soon cracks appeared, then fissures, venting steam with hissing breaths. Link felt the ground under his feet begin to heat up, saw the way ahead shimmer in his vision.

Zelda dropped back. "What do you think we'll find there?" she asked, her voice hushed.

"An answer," Link replied. His conviction was as solid as the mountain they stepped upon. "A way out." His eyes met hers. "Then we can all go home."

Curiosity shone on her face. "What makes you so sure?"

Link hesitated. He wanted to say that the One, Unseen would guide them, but didn't know how to put that into words without sounding foolish. She was clearly looking for physical answers, and not vague assurances. "Let's just see," he said instead. "All I know is that you deserve life."

She looked away, stricken. Again, Link sensed the shadow slowly curl around her heart. What had happened to her?

"I wish I had a weapon," she said. "Some way to defend myself."

"I don't think there will be anything there to harm us."

Zelda cocked her head to one side. "Still..." She pursed her lips for a moment, her thoughts turning inward. Her hand touched his, the skin cold. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry you had to be dragged into this."

Link opened his mouth to reply, but yet again found nothing that wouldn't make him come across as a dimwitted young boy. How was she to know that she'd given his life a purpose again? That she'd been the catalyst for him finding the One?

He slowed down, a familiar sensation nudging him from within.

Zelda took notice. "What is it?" The others turned to him, the worry in her voice catching their attention.

Link looked up. "We're not alone." Turning, he peered back down the trail. He saw nothing. "Stay behind me."

Link could feel the knot of tension within Zelda. "I can help you," she said.

"Stay," he said, giving her a quick glance. "Please."

Nothing emerged from the path, and yet Link could clearly sense the heartbeat creeping towards them. There was light in it, but it was submerged, and at the moment all that bubbled within that heart was pure malice. Branches of crooked rock leaned over the trail, but still all was dark therein.

Link focused. It would have been silent, except that as he pushed with his heart, the world around him burst with life. The tiny shifts in the air were cavernous sighs, the scrape of boot on granite like a roar. But it was the reverberating beats of a quartet of hearts that rang , thudding, in Link's ears. Still no movement came. He could feel the energy coiled in his muscles, ready for release.

And through it all, at the corner of his consciousness, he kept Zelda in his mind's eye, tracking her movements. He wanted to make sure that he was between her and what was coming. Time slowed, the tension rolling off the others in waves. Closer the newcomer came, closer. Link's eyes thinned. He should be able to see him now...he should be right in front of-

Like the winking of a star, the steel tip of the arrow tore out of the darkness, chased by flame. Link froze, caught completely off-guard. "Drop!"

Hitting the ground hard, the young Hylian felt grit spit into his face. The world collapsed into a blur, his connection with the One momentarily shattering. Zelda! He couldn't sense her anymore, couldn't even turn to bring his eyes to her. He felt a weight lift from his waist.

Jerking his head up, Link saw Zelda ahead of him, his crossbow firing wildly in her hands. "Leave us be or die!" she spat.

He leapt to his feet, sensing the quick reactions of the enemy. Flinging himself against Zelda, Link pushed her roughly against the wall as the arrows flew into the space where'd they'd just been. Her eyes, lined with anger, glared into his face, and the former assassin almost was stunned to see the bloodlust that burned within.

"Why'd you stop me?" she cried. "I had him!"

Pinning her wrists to the craggy surface, Link couldn't contain his shock. What had happened to her? "Zelda..." Quickly regaining his bearings, he pushed her towards the other pair, making sure to pry his bow back from her fingers. "Keep going. I'll try and hold him off." A tingle touched his heart. "I know who it is. He only wants me."

His eyes followed them as they ran, then he too began to jog. A sudden burst of steam made him stumble, and Link had to dig his heel into the ground to stop himself from falling. Spinning, he swung around to face his unseen assailant, the geysers around him erupting with heated vapour.

Link held his ground, setting his weapon back on his belt. "Commander Kisho," he called. "We should talk." Sweat collected around his collar as the air continued to dance in glistening waves. No reply came. "For a single moment of indulgence," he continued. "For a single moment where you indulge your urgings for revenge...you're so willing to sacrifice what makes you truly alive? You're better than that."

A deep, throaty laugh floated from the shadows. "What life do I have now?"

"Whatever one you choose for yourself," Link insisted. "You don't have to live in the past. You can let go and rebuild."

There was a pause, then Kisho spoke: "Why'd you do it, Link?" Grief tore at his voice. "Why'd you kill Rivero and Jonah?"

Link stopped his throat from clenching, not wanting to betray even the least bit of regret. "Because they would have killed me first," he said. "It was you who betrayed me."

"They said you were a threat. You were a danger to the King."

"No, Commander," Link replied. Pinpointing the source of the heartbeat, he began to walk, his steps silent like a ghost. He floated from one cloud of steam to another, so that he'd remain invisible. Bonding with the One, his body blurred, moving at lightening speed. "I thought you were wiser than that."

"I do as I'm ordered."

Metal whispered, and the Master Sword was in Link's hand. "It wasn't the King. It was the Hylian Chief, Servion."

"What do you know of him?" Kisho replied and, though Link could hear the doubt in his voice, his heart was still blackened. Link knew that he wouldn't be swayed like Vannis Tor had been. He'd have to fight this one out. He wondered if all assassin's hearts, including his own, were this twisted.

"Corrupt to the core, sir," Link replied, reverting back to their old status. "He's a WOF, only good for the slaughter."

Kisho laughed, recognising the old assassin code. "A wily old fox," he said. "He is at that. What's your suggestion?"

Link could see him now, the assassin using the wall as cover, and holding his crossbow out in front of him. "Imprisonment. Banishment. Put him some place where he won't harm the people." He inched closer, tightening the grip on his sword.

"You just said he was good for the slaughter. Better to cut off the limb infested with gangrene than to let it fester."

"That would depend..." Link spun, twirling in front of the assassin. "...on how bad..." Swinging with the momentum, the Master Sword sliced through the crossbow, sparks flaring into the air. "...his crimes are." Like liquid, Link slid back into a hiding place, watching Kisho's eyes bulge.

Link spoke again. "Help me, sir. There's a girl. I need to deliver her to a special place. It's important."

Growling, the Commander stepped forward, his eyes darting left to right, his heart heated with rage. "Why should I believe you?"

There was no point, Link thought. Sadness bit into his heart as he realised that his old mentor was too blinded to see sense. "Because I've never lied to you before."

With a leap to set him off, Link ran, sheathing his sword as his boots almost slipped in the dirt. He heard Kisho set off in pursuit, felt the arrows fly from the assassin's crossbow - he clearly carried a replacement - targeting only his limbs. Link jumped, his knees reaching his chin, and watched one of the spinning shafts speed through the air beneath him. He landed with a crouch then, with pain shooting through his legs, he set off again.

He didn't want to do this. He didn't want harm the man that had watched over him like a father. His connection to the One sagging, Link's trembling fingers unhooked his crossbow from his belt, and locked in a trio of arrows. He swallowed. Sometimes decisions like this would be placed before him - sometimes he would have to decide what truly was for the greatest good. Zelda had to be protected. Kisho was standing in the path of that aim.

His crossbow sang its deadly song as he flicked the switch, explosive powder turning black within a heartbeat. Heat radiated off it in waves, the steady hum growing louder and louder in Link's mind. He couldn't do it. Swinging his torso around, he tried to aim, but moonlight flooded his eyes, dazzling him. Distracted, and not wanting to fall, he fired anyway.

Link didn't even have to look twice to know that the arrow had gone astray. He heard Kisho's cry of triumph, and Link cursed, the weakness of his resolve, he knew, had let Zelda down. As though by divine intervention, the Hylian girl appeared up ahead, worried frowns across her, and her friends, faces.

His teeth bit down as his determination returned. Tapping into the One, he leapt, spinning around completely, and fired again. This time he joined the steel-tipped shaft with his heart, driving it along with his mind. He felt the wind caress the wood, saw Kisho loom larger and larger in his vision. He nudged it just an inch to the left. The arrow drove through cloth, then skin, then muscle, jamming tight into the assassin's shoulder. Link felt it all, sensed the shock that made Kisho recoil, felt the sudden loss of feeling in his legs that made him tumble to the ground.

Link landed, spraying up flints of rock from under his boots. Fatigue instantly ate at his body. Latching his weapon back onto his belt, he turned to the others. "Why aren't you-"

Then he saw it. A thin, stone bridge, unsupported by an pillars, stretched across a wide cavern below, connecting the trail to the Crater beyond. It wouldn't take long for Kisho to recover, he knew. And it would take them a while to cross the bridge. "Go," he whispered. "I'll deal with him here."

Zelda opened her mouth as though to protest, but Malon yanked her by the arm, leading her to the narrow overpass. They stepped onto it gingerly, and Link could hear Harlequin's frantic protests, but blotted them from his mind.

Kisho, pulling the arrow free with an anguished yell, stalked closer. Link stepped back, dust sliding under his feet, and edged closer to the bridge. Too much was squeezing his mind - his concern for Zelda and the others, his heart hammering in his chest, his regret that his friendship with the Commander would end like this. He tried to find the One, but failed. A hollow sensation in his chest told him that, this time, he was truly alone.

"Nowhere to go, Link," the assassin said, whispering. "I'll take my revenge here."

The young Hylian felt the narrow pathway under him. He glanced down, saw the dizzying gulf beneath, magma oozing on the ground far below with a fiery crimson glow, its breath catching on the air currents, turning them hot. "And then what?" he asked. "Then you'll be happy? Do you truly think so?"

"Quiet!" he snapped.

Link frowned as Kisho turned away, beckoning with his hand. Someone else was there. Had he been able to, Link would have detected his heart. But he was too tired...so very tired. His senses jolted awake as the person revealed himself. "Servion!"

The Chief grinned, his eyes dancing madly. His fingers played with two triangular pendants, dangling from chains around his neck. Link plucked a vague memory from his mind - the two, carved ornaments resembled the symbol of the Harkinians.

Servion swayed as he spoke. "A very valiant effort, I must say," the Hylian taunted. "But all for naught. It's over. You are going to die, and the girl is going to be mine."

Despair stung Link's soul, sinking deep into his heart and almost making him tremble. Desperately, he sought out Kisho, his eyes pulling away from his old mentor's bloodsoaked arm up to his blank face, . "Commander, listen...he's using you. It's a trick. What he's going to do will damn us all for eternity." His head swam, the smoke from below, stained with the stench of ash, seeping into his eyes and mouth.

Servion laughed. "Oh, don't worry about him, Link," he said, stepping in front of the assassin. "Like everyone else, he is under my command. Hylians, Calatians...it doesn't matter. I've been promised the world, you see. And now I'm here to collect."

Link turned back towards Zelda. He saw her, Malon and Harlequin, half-way across the bridge, leading each other slowly by the hand. How had this happened? All his confidence and faith evaporated, as though the heat itself had dried his heart out. He'd failed. He'd completely failed. Magma, slow moving and glowing scarlet, bubbled beneath, an impassive witness to the massacre that was sure to come. His heart now as heavy as the boulders that lay strewn across the arid landscape, Link turned back, licking his cracked lips and not knowing what else to say, except, "He's using you."

"I know." Link's eyes shot up to Kisho's. The assassin had his crossbow aimed at Servion's head, the Chief freezing in his tracks. "Didn't I just say I'd take my vengeance here? I think it's now clear who has truly been pushing the pieces in this little game."

Servion snarled. "Assassin. You're a fool."

Kisho glanced at Link. "Run...and I never want to see you ever again."

Nodding, his heart awash with pure relief, the young Hylian spun around and dashed across the bridge, his arms out wide to keep balance. Bracing himself, he thought that he'd hear the crack of the crossbow any second now. Any...second...now. It didn't come.

Daring to glance back, he saw black lightening pour out of Servion's pendants, curling around Kisho, and pouring into his mouth. The assassin screamed as he was lifted by unseen hands, struggled as he was held suspended above the ground, then thrown deep into the chasm. Link's heart lurched, shock spreading through his body, and well-nigh tripping as a result. He bit down, the swirling rift below almost rushing up to him, and steadied himself, panting. He didn't have time to grief, or even think, as he saw the Chief turn towards him.

Instantly, Link's crossbow was in his hand once more. He flipped the arrows into the thin grooves, and waited to hear the click that would tell him that they'd locked. It came and, instead of aiming for Servion, he pointed the weapon straight down at the bridge. Whatever power the Chief now commanded would clearly stop any incoming arrows. Link decided to rely on something a bit more familiar - whatever went up, had to surely come down.

Bursts of orange flame burnt into his vision as the arrows gouged into the rocky surface. Hairline fractures splintered across the bridge, a screeching creak echoing through the air. Looking up, Link saw that his friends had reached the other side. Spurring himself onwards, he ran, the muscles in his legs screaming. He heard the snap of rock breaking apart, then felt the bridge shudder. There was no need to look behind him. He knew it was crumbling to dust just from the vibrations.

Push, push, push. Every tendon in Link's body screamed with pain. His heart, too busy with its basic function of pumping blood, clutched at his connection with the One. He couldn't find it. Pain shot through his body, his jaw tightening as he sensed what was happening behind him. He could sense that, his panic driven mind cried, but why couldn't he sense the One? He tried again, desperate, yet, like flint repeatedly struck against steel, he couldn't find the spark.

"Link!" Zelda screamed, her mouth dropping open. It was tumbling too fast, a cloud of dust mushrooming behind him rapidly. He felt air touch his heels, knew then that he wasn't going to make it and -

- he blanked his mind, shedding everything from his soul, dropping all the weight from his body. The calm centre of his heart expanded and the world turned white. A gust of wind pushed up under his arms, dragging him into the air. He rolled, sensing the bridge dissipate beneath him, like sugar in water. Gently controlling the breeze with his mind, he floated over the yawning abyss. Solid rock touched his boots and he opened his eyes, greeted by the sight of the shocked expressions on his friends' faces.

Ignoring them, he turned around, his eyes searching through the veil of ash and soot. Servion was nowhere to be seen. He would've felt satisfied had he not sensed the smallest murmur of a faint heartbeat, an irritating itch to his heightened senses.

...

Vegetation grew high up on Death Mountain, brown grass sprouting under trees with copper-coloured leaves. They reached the tip by noon the next day, then descended into the crater proper, the strange forest growing more dense here. They walked on in silence, broken only by necessity. Link knew Zelda was burning to ask him about what had just occurred. He was glad. He'd thought that she no longer wanted to talk to him. There just didn't seem to be the time just yet, and certainly not in front of the two bandits.

He wouldn't know quite what to say, either. His bond with the One had been restored at the very last moment, though he wasn't sure exactly why. He supposed that, faced with death, it had been easier for him to lose all sense of his ego. And besides that, he was troubled. Why had Zelda seemed to eager to kill? He almost shivered as the memory came back to him. A sharp flash of gold pulled him out of his musings.

He heard Malon gasp and Harlequin swear. A sob, instinctive and guttural, flew from Zelda's lips.

"Missy!" the banditwoman cried, rushing over to her. "What's wrong?"

Struggling to control the expression on her face, Zelda pushed her away violently. "Nothing." Her voice regained its composure. "I'm fine."

Link, his heart churning with a mixture of emotions, looked from the girl to the newly revealed City of Gold, standing atop a granite hill, half-hidden, but still gleaming. He let out a breath. "We need to rest." He looked at the others. "Tonight, we camp here."