1 Spinning Slash, Chapter 5: The Forge

KTHWAP!

"Ouch, belly flop…"

Posie vaulted herself back up to her feet and spat the taste of cold floor polish from her mouth. She ran her tongue over her teeth to make sure they were all still there, and with palms numb from their sprawl down to the sub-arctic tiles lining the temple grounds she smoothed the wrinkles in her tunic. No matter how many times Link took her to the castle town, or to the back of Kakariko Village so that she could get to school, or even retiring to home, the notion of warp travel via an ocarina melody simply did not go over well with her. Not so much the ocarina part as the warp. It wasn't that she got motion sickness—heavens no—but the sensation was simply so wholly bizarre that it nearly always caught her by surprise. First, there was the utterly eerie stillness that hung in the air as the last notes of any singular warp melody dissipated. Then there was the gasp of wind and what felt to be many little stones and leaves battering against her backside. She lost the feeling in her feet first, then the airheaded sensation as the first sparkles broke away from her form, following the wind as it went, and then slowly from the bottom up she disintegrated into little floating bits of magic as she temporarily lost consciousness. And then, she would be aware again, and in a completely different place, and so utterly discombobulated in her position that she often stumbled and fell. And of course, there were times when she came to a few inches off the ground, and suffered the disadvantage of a painful drop. In the forest this was tame, for their was a linoleum of soft moss and grass to catch her weight, and even the dry reeds surrounding the freakish Shadow Temple provided a little more support than they did itch. But stone coat of the Temple of Time and the stale, chilly air inside it made for less than a warm welcome.

"I'll never—urg—get used to traveling that way."

Link gave a satirical sigh. "Come on, Newton," he said, alluding to the fact that Posie and the famous scientist seemed to have similar tussles with gravity. "We've got to make double time to pick up Elaine and uh… get to where we're going by… when we're supposed to be there." His gargantuan hand reached down scoop up the flailing child in a quick swoop and bring her up into the cradle of his arms. "Maybe things will go quicker if one of us does the walking for both. No chance of you getting lost that way, at least."

Posie nodded and leaned into Link's chest. She tried desperately to wiggle herself into a comfortable spot before Link began his swaggering gait and jittered her around into lying flat into his limbs and staying still. This was definitely the unfavorable choice, for not only did it mean, more or less, a gauntlet for a pillow, it also meant being pancaked against the rough cloth of his undershirt, which was itchy, hot, and unbearable. How a person could wear a piece of clothing like that all day—under their normal wear, nonetheless—and not be driven completely insane was beyond her. She had managed to find a suitable wedge to scoot in before Link marched from the dark, dogmatic light filtering in through the high windows of the temple and into the glorious, singing morning sun.

Posie had been roused about an hour before, curious as she stared into her mother's face and then at her personal wall calendar(on which she marked off days) to make sure nothing was up. According to her marks, today was Saturday—a weekend, and therefore, no school. Sleeping in was one of those favorite weekend pastimes of hers that she had picked up from Link. But—if the Cucco clock was not deceiving her—it was seven, which was when she typically had to get up on weekdays to prepare for school. And this was more than a fluke of her internal timepiece being set a little early, but she had been deliberately woken—and now intended to know just why this was so.

"Mommy… what is it?" She dragged the heavy green cover over her head and quite literally sunk back into her pillow, which was just about as big as she was if not bigger. "You know it's Saturday… no school today, 'member?"

Saria jerked back the blankets and the little girl had a quick shiver shock at the sudden exposure to open air. "Don't look at me, your father wants you. He's taking you to Hyrule Castle Town after breakfast. No, I don't know what it's about either—" she answered the visual question imposed by Posie's facial expression. "All he says is that you're going there to pick up Elaine and have a talk with Mr. Parkerstine, and then the three of you are going to go to… well, you're just going to go someplace." In all earnesty Saria had been told by Link exactly where it was he was bringing the girls, but had been sworn to secrecy lest she care to have a taste of her own magic medicine via a red, sinister wand that Link had picked up from the mountain ranges of a small island he'd visited years before. But destination was the only thing known—purpose and reason still lived in the mist. She had a stinking suspicion that it had to do with the Sword of Obedience, as avoiding another one of Link's famous quests seemed now impossible. More than likely, they were heading towards… that place to stock up on supplies, and Link was going to spring the idea of the adventure on Posie there. But why was her bringing Elaine along? Unless he intended to take her along, too, to take Posie's mind off the terrible dangers that lay ahead and to convince her to go…

She considered forgetting that she ever told Posie that she was wanted and having the child simply return to sleep, but thought against it. No, better let Link learn his own lesson. When he found himself knee deep in trouble and unable to do anything because of some hindrance Posie provided, having to resort to a bit of ocarina magic to save their hides, then he would see. They wouldn't get halfway to Ipanajou before they came back begging for healing magic. Hopefully, not for too much of it. Even she had her limits, and would prefer if they avoided getting hurt at all. Posie, being five, after all, was prone to the usual scrapes and bruises, but the high mountains at the other end of the country were dangerous to even an experienced trekker like Link. And it had been so long since he had last adventured! Simply fighting a few battles every week or so was nothing compared to the arduous journey of a true venture. Had he retained enough of his strength to survive?

Ignorance was indeed bliss, though Saria serenely yet sadly, for little Posie could not know what was planned. Indeed, she seemed excited by the promise of her surprise and scurried around her room, hastily flinging off her flannel nightgown in exchange for her traditional Kokirish tunic(with a lengthened skirt-ruff), brown, leather boots, and belt with blue glass inlayings and a golden buckle. The Great Deku Sprout, despite the fact that he didn't share the particular fondness for Posie that some of the Kokiri did("A being who is only half Kokiri? Who has ever heard of such an outlandish thing?!"), he still was able to provide her with clothes that always exactly fit. Everything in her room had to be adjusted to fit her, as was shown by the fine(but doll-sized) hairbrush that she lifted and ran through her flyaway golden locks to reach a level of minimal straightness. She then stood on tiptoe, indicating that she was waiting for a kiss, and got one swiftly on the forehead before she scampered off to join Link at the table for breakfast before their excursion to the marketplace and… the other… place.

Hyrule Castle Town was a bustling little medieval metropolis encased within the walls of the fort of Hyrule's great palace itself. It was built of stone and wood, with large, colorful rock shapes decorating the area around the fountain in the center of town. The many buildings and houses were modest but pleasant, and sufficed well enough for the numerous guards, officers, and civilians that lived there. Higher commanders, such as members of the Royal Court and the most revered knights, lived in large mansions behind the castle itself. Zelda had offered Link one of these houses at the time he was planning on getting married, but Link politely refused and stated that he'd rather remodel his old home in the Kokiri Forest so that Saria would never have to be far from the forest that she loved and was bound by destiny to protect. To be honest, he couldn't bear to part with the place any more than Saria could. But he still enjoyed visiting the hacienda that had been set aside for him, and was still reserved for his use only("In case you change your mind," Zelda had said). Though it was a beautiful place, it was much too rich for his tastes, and he preferred the quaint simplicity of houses like his friend Randy's little residence in the West side of town, which was only five rooms but was perfectly fine for him and Elaine.

The marketplace in the center of the Castle Town was a colorful hodgepodge of street merchants, traveling performers, shoppers, families and their children, and the occasional guard off duty. Though it had been destroyed during Ganon's reign, the re-built version still had everything the original had and more. Several cafés and other restaurants had sprung up, including ice cream and pizza parlors which many children were grateful for. The owner of the ice cream shop happened to be a personal friend of Link's, who had done him a great service when he had been lost in an onslaught of torrential snow and desperately trying to reach his location. Nicholai, the man was called, had dragged Link unconscious from a mounting snow bank and taken him in to his small tent for the night. This had been a double deal, for in saving Link, he had also rescued Posie, very much awake, who at the time had been barely over a year old but knew trouble when she was in it. Though many owed their lives to Link, Nicholai was one of the few whom Link owed his life too, and therefore they were mutual friends. He was the first person outside of the forest—and the Royal Family—to know of Posie's existence, and had helped the others of his town comprehend her being when she had first come to the market square. Indeed, a good job he had done, too, for even though the odd twosome still got a few gawky looks here and there, most folks recognized them and greeted them warmly.

"Oi! 'Allo thoir, Link me boy! Glad to see ye've brought the lass with you todoi, eh?"

"And 'Allo' to you to, Jaq!" Link would have waved, were it not for the fact that Posie was currently keeping his arms pasted down.

"Hello there, Link! Nice to see you in town!"

"Hiya Malon!" Posie stood up(much to Link's distress; those little heels were quite painful if they were digging into your flesh) and waved over Link's shoulder to the carrot-topped woman carrying milk, who pretended to blush with a "how could I have forgotten?" look and waved with the arm not hooked beneath a basket of glass bottles.

"Wow! Mom, look, it's Link! It's really him! Can I go and see him? Huh; can I, Mom?"

The portly middle-aged woman gave her mousy-haired young son with amber eyes a smile. "I suppose, Dharli, but be polite. The poor man's not some zoo animal. And do be careful! You probably won't be the only one there!" She finished placing the last of the crisp, wind-blown clothes into her large, wicker, woven basket, and wobbled on to the carved, wooden door market with a golden nameplate. "I'll be inside when you're finished."

Link smiled. Time to do the hero act. Better get a pen ready, too, just in case the kid asked for an autograph. Happened all the time. From the looks of him, the boy had been about eight or nine, probably too young to remember on his own any of the heroic things Link had done in the past. The things that he was famous for. But no doubt he had heard all the stories from his parents, and, judging by the woman's age, the boy had older brothers and sisters who had recovered some of the bloodier bits that their parents had left out before their sibling. And of course there was the everyday stuff—monsters attacking villages, bad guys trying to gain control of smaller regions of Hyrule, the basics. Even though it was a cinch for Link, no normal soldier was capable of standing up to those atrocities. Those stories—the more fantastic, the better—always leaked out among laymen.

The boy with fawn hair and auburn eyes had a round, cherubic face with an impish, but not malicious, look about him. A glaze had spread over those sun-disks in his excitement. He jerked to a stop before Link, trembling ferociously and just barely managing to gargle out a few overjoyed words.

"You… y-y-you're Link!"

Posie "Duh!"-ed the child after he stated the shamelessly evident.

Hearing another child's voice jolted him back into reality. "And you… you're… a little kid that looks a lot like Link! A really little kid."

Posie giggled. "Yeah, so I'm vertically challenged. No big deal, right?" Bada-bing!

"Oh, don't get so fussy about it," chided Link. "After all, folks of your character are in short supply!" Bada-boom!

"Aye, what a headache," and the boy clutched his forehead. "You folks know each others or somethin'? 'Cuz if youse don't, I don't see why youse is carryin' her around or nothing, you know."

Link nodded. "She's my daughter." Then, to a gaping cave of a mouth, "Bet you didn't know I had one, ehh? Well, you learn something new every day, don't you?" Link knelt and set Posie down on the ground so she could look up into the boy's paling face.

"Hiya! I'm Posie! Nice to meet you!" Posie let her arm forward as far as it would reach in an indication that she was looking for a handshake. Still slightly addled, the boy went to his knees and took the hand between his thumb and forefinger and, carefully as if she were a brittle wooden doll found in some ancient ruins that might fall apart at any second, he maneuvered her hand up and down. She wrapped her insignificant palm around his finger and gave it as much as a bounce as she could muster. Which, for someone her size, was remarkably powerful. He could feel her little bolt of power jiggling his limb a bit more than he expected it too.

"I'm Dharli," he replied, "Nice to meet ya too. It must be pretty cool having a dad who's so famous and strong, huh?" His eyes smiled down the tip of his lengthy nose.

"Well, sometimes." Posie spoke into her shoes. "I mean, it's nice when you consider the fact that he gets all the special privileges and stuff and always gets stuff from the royal family for free, but I don't like it when we get mobbed in the market place and separated." Then, clumsily to Dharli's rapidly falling face, "Oh! But you're nice. Don't worry. When it's just one person it's OK, and if it's another kid then that's even better! A chance to meet new friends, you know. I don't have many."

Dharli brightened for a moment and then sunk to a level of depression even greater than before. "Why not? Don't people like youse? You're not that bad, really. You even sort of cool. Don't people appreciate who ya are?"

"No," Posie sighed bitterly. "They make fun of my size and my voice and pretty much everything about me that they can find to make fun of. The only person who's ever been nice to me before—besides you, of course, but still, you met my daddy first, not me—is Elaine."

"Elaine? Elaine Parkerstine? That weird kid with the dress who speaks in gibberish? The guard's goil?"

Now of course she liked Dharli, and Elaine wasn't around to hear that quip, but nevertheless, that stung. Although Elaine had her quirks, and was certainly smarter than the average five-year-old with a quicker tongue than a comedian, Posie didn't think she was "weird." There were a lot stranger in the world than Elaine, even if she did have a rather large brown birthmark on her back. Well, it wasn't a birthmark of normal sorts, but Posie was sworn to secrecy about its true origins. And Elaine didn't speak gibberish! It wasn't exactly Common Hylean(which was essentially English, but with a Hyrulean accent that few people still bore), but it was a real language that Posie had been learning slowly from Elaine. The Lingo, it was simply called, though not many knew who it was the Lingo of. Well, R'kulet bu gyyii r'kulet—people will be people—chirrn Ludores burron dijz ooqu.—and Posie would live with it. It wasn't your typical child who could speak a lost language. She suddenly felt proud of Elaine for not being afraid of her distinct, if not a bit obscure, heritage. Not to mention that fact that she actually knew what her middle name, Kimiria, meant.

Dharli didn't wait for an answer. "Well, if youse is lookin' for her, youse ain't gonna find her here. She lives back a ways, no? Like, back down that way, you know?" He indicated a shadowed alleyway, a well-known shortcut through the heavily populated district to the more rural settings near the edge of the Castle Town's walls.

"We know," said Link. "We were just going that way anyways. We'd best be moving on, too. Sorry to break up the conversation, but we really gotta run. See you around." Link picked up Posie again, who was only too happy to get away from the strange boy with so many misconceptions about Elaine and to get on to see her friend(who obviously knew her own secrets better than Dharli did) and join her for whatever surprise lay ahead.



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The steamy little house with yellowing morning light filtering through the buttery crisscrossed windows was a strange harmony of chaos and order, with everything strewn about in haphazard piles and lain about on the floor, yet the Parkerstines had inherited a bizarre tendency from all their years in the cottage that allowed them to find anything and everything at the exact time they wanted it. There were random heaps of this and that lumped together at the foot of the sofa, for example, but if you looked closely you would find that one pile consisted mainly of magazines who were missing their 27th page while the other contained left socks of the argyle variety with holes where a pinky toe should have been. Link, having been plastered to Saria's side for the past six years, was so used to cleanliness, order, and a strict sense of "a place for everything and everything in its place" that frankly it drove him nuts. When he accidentally knocked over a stack of photo albums alphabetized by the average of the years in which all the pictures were taken, set conveniently near the kitchen sink, Randy blew a fuse lighting the fires of his steely, guardly manner and began to flail about like a madman, making strange whining noises and was almost whistling through his nose as he pointed out that the most vintage of the books there had old, grainy photographs dating back to 423(Hyrule time) which actually belonged above the book classed in 517, three years ago. How this small duo of a family survived without losing their minds was beyond his comprehension.

Randy was easily the first man Link had ever met with dishpan hands. The man delicately plucked fragile china between his beefy fingers to rub it down with a yellow cloth, then sunk it back into the sea of dark, foamy water to soak some more as he scrubbed another. And oddly enough he was as talkative as any woman while doing dishes. "So, Link, my man… what's it you want to talk to me about that so requires the kiddies to wait outside for you to tell me?" He etched his fingernail over a stubborn patch of spaghetti sauce left on a clear glass plate.

"I'd also prefer it if you got up from that silly hunch and looked me in the face, Quasimodo."

"Hey, chores gotta be done, don't they?" Randy extended to his full height, head nearly touching the ceiling, and turned around to face Link, dripping, soapy hands held woodenly forward, palms flat, and the overall effect of the frilly white apron paining to just barely stretch across Randy's front hilarious. Apparently it had been something he'd succeeded from his mother, because it only managed to cover the half of his chest(the rest of which was dark with wet stains) and the skirt front barely went to below his knees. Link knew that he, personally, wouldn't be caught dead in one of those, but Randy was certainly a different man. He was big boned and big hearted, with an iron will but a cotton candy soul. Much like Link himself, and yet not. Randy was far more feminine than Link, not afraid to be seen outside waving a broom on the cobblestones or flicking a feather duster at lamp shades. He knew how to cook, sew, clean, and wasn't half bad at singing, either. He always tried his best to compensate for the lack of an alpha female in his household, and to be to Elaine both the father that was there for her and the mother she had never had. Or at least, hadn't had for as long as Link had known her. It was a very touchy matter that Randy had never spoken to him openly about, and whenever Link asked, he quickly changed the topic. Link wondered if it had possibly been something illicit, but Randy's reply left him as is not more mystified than when he had begun: "The only thing dirty about it were the rules she was tyrannically forced to obey." Link had decided then to stop asking then and there and just leave Randy to his secrets.

"Suresuresure, whatever." Link brushed in front of his face. "Look, I got a couple of questions for you… and pay attention, for goodness sakes'!" Randy was trying to submerge his hands in the sink again.

"Fine, fine. Just let me get the grease from this plate here…" He vigorously wiped the plate's surface with the yellow rag, then set the glistening wet platter on a wooden rack to dry. "Alright, Greenie, shoot. Or should I say, stab."

Even in his vexed mood, Link couldn't help but smile. It was a feeble joke, to be sure, but effective. "So, Ironman… what would you say to the thought of Elaine going for a little hike in the mountains?"

"Ahh, hiking! A truly vigorous activity! Not to mention that it builds character! Sounds like a good idea! Why do you ask?"

Link had his hands folded and had a colluding look. "What if the mountain were… cold? Snowy? Dangerous?"

Randy raised an eyebrow. "Err, well, if she had a coat and as long as there was someone there to guide her… what's this about anyway?"

"What if that mountain she was to go hiking up was Mount Ipanajou?"

For a moment, Randy was deathly silent. His normally flushed skin was pale as the snow of the aforementioned peak, his eyes unfocused and shimmering. He arced his arms over his head as he spoke, then knitted them into a knot over his heart. "Okay, I'm serious this time. What the Gel are you up to? And what's it got to do with Elaine?"

Link had a sarcastically questioning finger to the side of his mouth. "You ever heard of… the Sword of Obedience?"

Randy fell back onto a wooden stool, stamped firmly in place by a stack of burned-out candles surrounding it like a clump of roots, and he placed his hands behind his head and yawned. "Nope, but it sounds like some mystic relic or another you'd go chasing after." He propped his enormous feet up on the handle to one of the drawers lining the shelves beneath the counter. His thick stomach muscles rippled as he improvised on the situation by doing sit-ups. "And you want to take Elaine with you, do you? What's wrong with Posie? After all, she's the one opting for the 'family business,' no?"

"Posie's coming too. I wanted Elaine to help keep her company. It's a long road to the misty mountain tops. I'd make sure to protect her valiantly as I am bound…"

Randy grunted, more from distaste than the strain of exercise. "And you… expect me to oblige? You must be out of your mind, right? You're forgetting that Elaine is all I have, you know. If it weren't for her, I'd have no motivation to do this job, right? Forget about me, I want the best for her. I've had no other reason for even trying since that little scandal booted me from my old job."

Two other things Randy was vague about, right there—his "old job"(which he never defined) and the "little scandal" that had him fired(which he never defined either.). It begged the question as to why he mentioned these things and made so many references to them if he never intended to talk about them. It was if one of the Goddesses(or some other cosmic being with ultimate power over destiny) was making him drop hints as to something to be. Link could almost hear the sardonic laughter—it was high-pitched and tittery, like that of a thirteen-year-old girl with the power to manipulate their lives.

"Pleeeeeaaaaaase? It's absolutely essential that she's there. Aside from being an aid to Posie, she is admittedly one of the best morale- boosters I've ever met. Without her, we'll never make it. I know I'm asking a lot, but…"

"No, no buts." Randy cut him off before he could finish. "I suppose I could let her go. Probably be a treat for her, exploring Hyrule with her best friend and the guy who's fame is only second to the King's. But if anything happens to her, you'll be finding a spear through your stomach, buddy, you hear?"

Link quietly "Yes!"-ed to himself, then coughed a small bit of slime from his throat and said properly, "I mean, thank you. You're a good guy, you know. Putting so much trust in me. Well, don't worry. Even if we get into trouble, I'll have my ocarina, remember? I can bring her home in a flash. And whether we find the sword or not, I'll make sure that we bring you home a souvenir, kay?" Link turned his back to Randy and began to leave for the door.

Discreetly Randy mumbled, "Fine, but it better be a good one."



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"So let me get this straight. The first part of our surprise is where we're going… the second part is what we get when we're there… and the third part is where we're going afterward?" asked Elaine as they moseyed over a heap of stones that lay in the path of the inconspicuous dirt trail Link had shown to them. Normally he would have taken the obvious way, but that would have told them in an instant their destination. This tracing, well hid in one of the darker sections of alleyway, was known only by him and a "friend" of his and was used mainly for quick jaunts under disguise to the marketplace and back. It was rude and filled with pools of stagnant water and jagged rocks, but if you could hop the puddles and kick aside the rocks, it wasn't bad traveling. It wove through a maze of high stone walls bearing tall trees on the other side, and the splotches of light that filtered through the patchwork of spruce needles gave a dreamlike, canvassed look to the place. A few windows crossed with iron bars provided occasional glimpses of the world around, which consisted mainly of bark-clad evergreen trunks, but Posie thought she could see a luscious green garden beyond, the sweet smells of exotic flowers wafting to her nose. It reminded her of a scene in The Silver Sapphire(her favorite book, which was actually a complex fantasy novel): Sir Edrill, the noble Derxelholmian knight(Derxelholm being a small country in Ebridane, northeast of Hyrule in the Derxian Peninsula) had been trapped in a burning hedge maze by the evil Fireduke, and he had to escape before the fire reached the fountain of kerosene in the middle of the maze. Edrill was lost, until he realized that he could follow the scents of the flowers at the other end of the garden. One of her favorite parts.

Posie could see the light widen beyond the next turn in the lane and realized, with a jolt, that they were almost out. Her thoughts had been swimming so rapidly that she had had no time to realize that they'd been traveling at an alarming rate, and were at the end almost as soon as they begun. But traveling to where? If they were nowhere, then what good was haste in getting there? An amazing precipice of sheer stone that would have been amazing even to a tall person like Randy left Posie absolutely breathless. Brick after gray brick meticulously stretched above her, its even path interrupted rudely at moments by fine glass windows, so old that, by judging from the one closest to the ground, that they were considerably thicker near the bottom than the top, as glass is just barely a liquid and sinks very slowly over time. A bendy, middle-aged guard with quite a few wrinkles around his eyes slept leaning on the butt of his spear, the tip sunk into the ground. The visor of his helmet lolled in front of his nose, the fine, foggy hairs of his mustache buffeted this way and that in the slipstream. Link walked up to the man and jabbed him in the shoulder blade with an accusing finger.

"Psst! Hey, you! Guard person!"

The man fumbled awake, saw Link standing over him, and fought to pry his spear from the ground so he could stand up proper and look regal. "Password?" the man proclaimed, and the bristly coat of hair beneath his nose trembled.

Link made a fearful-looking gesture as if to pull out his sword, but his hands never went quite all the way back and instead mimed holding the rapier. He began making fierce slashing motions in the direction of a rather shaggy-looking bush. He puffed up his cheeks and made squeaky noises as he proclaimed, "Dang! The weeds are getting out of hand again!"

Posie gave a slightly spitting giggle and told Elaine that Link looked like a mad Deku Scrub. Or at least, that was the jist of it. Her precise words were actually, "Daddy looks like one of those funny wooden plant people gone on rampage!" Still, Link's curious act seemed to satisfy the sentry, who mashed his spear on the ground with a "Proceed." He stepped aside from an iron door encrusted with rust, as if it had been submerged underwater for a long period of time and then removed. Or perhaps, generations of rain and sleet had caked its surface the ocher shade. The only signs that anyone ever touched the door was a glaring, tarnished streak that looked like someone had been kicking the door in frustration to get it open. The handle, too, seemed loose, which made sense as it probably took a great deal of wrenching and tussling about to twist it. Link put a hand on this twisted doorknob and fingered it lightly, then had a sudden insight before making the turn and turned around to face Posie and Elaine.

"Girls… have you ever heard the saying that you can never judge a book by its cover?"

"Yes," they nodded.

"Well… tell me… from what you've seen so far, what would you judge this place to be… by its cover?"

"Hmmph," Elaine shrugged, "I'm guessing just some old, dilapidated place or another that is being guarded so no one gets in and hurts themselves, right?"

"Yeah," seconded Posie, "Just an old dilap… dilapi… delapilated… whatever she said kind of place that's guarded so no one goes in and gets hurt. Right?"

Link turned back to the door. "There, you see? From the outside, this side, it looks old and bleak. But, things aren't always what they seem. Right?"

"Duh," nodded Posie. "Aren't I living proof of that?"

Link chuckled. "So you are, love, so you are. But as is this place. From the outside… you see a crumbling old heap. But inside…"

There was a creak; the door swung open.

"I give you Hyrule Castle."

Every inch the door swung seemed to intensify the gasp as the it yielded to an amazing rotunda whose very walls seemed to be inlaid with gold. Glistening yellow serpents and wyrms coiled protectively over sparkling columns inlaid with gorgeous jewels as big as Link's fist, and little flecks of gold bouillon were chipped away from their bars and yet in the stunning mural sprinkled on the floor, into the shape of three golden triangles, the space between them piled with chunks of cobalt blue stones. Intricate leaves were carved of the amber metal, and the everlasting ivy wound constrictingly over every square inch. Huge aureate statues loomed over every corridor, each depicting a different aspect of Hyrule's rare gift of magic. A glimmering eagle clutched a smaller rendition of the Triforce in its talons directly opposite Link and company, and around it were clustered many smaller creatures each with a smaller symbol. A wispy- looking, twiggy hand wrought its decrepit fingers about a small disk, engraved with a triangle formation similar to the pattern on that of the plate held in the beak of a sagely intelligent owl. A Deku Scrub had wedged, into its nozzle, another medallion with a vortex design, and one that Posie recognized instantly from the necklace her mother wore. A dragon tossed a fourth medal about its horns, bearing a three-pronged flame; a fifth was cradled in the tail of a leaping dolphin with pointed splotches and circles. The last of the pendants, set in the lantern of a wild-haired, dark faced ghost, resembled a separated yin-yang. All of this scene came into being from gold, and it captivated the children with magnetic force. Never before in their lives had they been so strongly urged to just stand there, and gawk above them. It seemed a shame to putrefy the scene of purity by trodding over the galactic centerpiece with their spoiled soles.

The dazzling corridor had temporarily nullified their minds and Posie rather stupidly choked out, "Wow. This is a big room," which was quite an understatement to say the least.

"Knew you'd like it," said Link, "Just knew you would. Huge place, huh?" he inquired as he clamped Posie on the shoulder. Without waiting for a reply(or perhaps he had meant for his first question to be rhetorical), he continued, "Nothing's too good for good ol' King Mercutioe and Princess Zelda. They're the best pair of rulers this county's ever seen, Posie. His Highness has been the King as long as I can remember, and from what I'm heard, I should be grateful for this. You know, it wasn't too long before you were born that a particularly nasty wizard tried to usurp the throne from our good King and imprisoned Zelda. Not like I have to tell you what happened…" His eyes gave a mischievous twinkle and he grinned. "So, girls, ready for a grand tour of the castle? You'll get to see everything. Even the places normally off limits! How's that for the first part of your surprise, ehh?"

"Oooh, that'll be terrific!" Little Posie had snapped out of her trance and tossed it aside like a bad dream, squealing in delight at the thought of getting to run through the castle and jaunt about the hallways and ballrooms and zillions of guest rooms. Perchance, even, meet the princess…?

"Yup! But there's only one condition—you've got to do me both a favor. How's that? Still going strong?"

Elaine gave a shrill laugh. "Of course it is, Mr. B! What's the chance of a lifetime, exploring the castle, to a little old favor, huh?"

"Alright then. Neither of you is to follow me when I leave here. You listening? Stay here."

"Aww! But then when do we get to tour the castle?"

"First I have to go finagle with a couple of the royal authorities about a little deal we made a while ago," he said rather mysteriously. "That shouldn't take too long. When I get back, I'll take you through the castle. That should take a few good hours. Drenenn ought to have finished by then, so I'll go to him, retrieve the finished product, and then I'll present you the second part of your surprise over lunch in the great dining hall. Sound good? That's all you have to do, wait."

He was met by a pair of rather solemn nods. "It won't be more than a couple of minutes, right? We'll wait, but we don't wanna wait too long," sighed Elaine.

"If everything goes right, you won't have to be lounging around more than a half hour. Now I must be off… tata for now, children, and be good!" And with an instructing finger in the air, he disappeared down the hallway guarded by the golden dragon with the fire round.

The ominous, glowing room seemed to empty and cold without Link's warming presence. Distraught, Posie and Elaine slumped their backs to each other and slid painfully to the floor, so ugly without something just as magnificent to compare it to. The towering figures above seemed to glower disdainfully at them, and the beasts encompassing the pillars holding up the immensely high ceiling looked ready to fire jets of flame at moment's notice. Posie looked reproachfully down the colonnade Link had taken and crossed her arms in disgust.

"We shoulda just followed him anyway," she grumped caustically.

Half an hour later Link had not returned.

Posie and Elaine had resorted to rounds of tic-tac-toe in the powdery dirt left behind by their shoes and a couple of games of "Go Fish" with the pack of cards Elaine had procured from her pocket, which was actually rather useless as it contained too few of some cards and too many of others but made the game more interesting nevertheless. It was a good thing they were the small sort of cards, as Posie's hands were quite small as well and she had difficulty even with these. Cards would sporadically plummet to the floor from the edges of her hand. This was both good and bad for her, for the overload of cards meant that she was winning but it also meant that Elaine could easily see her hand and would know what to ask for next time it was her turn. She was just about to inquire for the ten(one of six) she had seen in Posie's set and needed desperately to complete another book when they, at long last, heard a male voice echoing down the hall. Posie cocked her head to listen.

"Not quite up to your usual standards, I'm afraid, but smashing nonetheless," the jovial, potbellied voice chortled, much deeper and smoother than Link's with a hint of tittery accent.

A high, sugary voice pealed up to the rafters in return. "Oh, Daddy, you know I'm a horrible speech maker!" The woman who replied had a laugh like the song of a million birds at dawn, and despite her retort her every word was like a speech unto itself. "Oh, but what does it matter, really? It was only a practice. I'm not giving the real announcement till tomorrow. But I'll be sure to practice, OK?" Satiny strides now echoed up and down the enormous architecture.

Posie let down her hand of cards, pressed tight up against her face, and whispered frantically to Elaine. "Who's that? What if they see us? We could get in trouble! We probably aren't s'pposed to be here!" She was cramming all her cards together in a stack and foisting them on the muddled girl at the same time as she was trying to spread out some of the dry dirt from their shoes so nothing showed. "C'mon! Hiiiide! You wanna get your hide toasted?"

"But… if we say we're with your dad…" The clay-haired child found her arms overflowing with cards as Posie shoved and cajoled the protesting Elaine behind a crimson tapestry conveniently located between the corridors proclaimed by the owl and the Deku Scrub. The golden, braided trim that rimmed the velvety material for a good three inches on all sides was enough to provide decent cover-up for their legs and feet, and also allowed them to observe the visitors to the rotunda without being seen themselves.

Posie silently dismissed her baited breath when the graceful, lilting Zelda and her father King Mercutioe, a stumpy man with a scraggly gray beard and a round, mountain of blubber padding him from all sides, pattered into the giant circle from the slightly shaded hall with the morose hand above it. The King's beady little blue eyes, squashed beneath reddened, cherubic cheeks, searched the room anxiously for a moment as her wobbled around, on his great sausage legs, scanning the area. "You know, Zelda," he said more to the air than to his daughter, "I thought for a moment I heard voices in here before we came in. Small, squeaky little voices. Like mice chattering betwixt themselves."

"Oh, Daddy, you know mice don't talk," groaned Zelda, though without satire. "Besides, who would have been in here? This may be the Grand Rotunda, but, well, normally that door there opens out into the garden, and I certainly haven't sent any gardeners out today… and besides, none of them have voices like mice. You were hearing things, I'm sure."

Posie was deathly tempted to burst out from behind the wall hanging and ask how it was that the outside door could normally lead once place or how it was that if, the door was built into the garden, they had entered it and been in the back alley path, but she knew to hold her tongue. She had seen—or, to be more precise, heard—a man once in The Silver Sapphire beheaded for trespassing on royal property. Or at least, almost beheaded. Naturally, good Sir Edrill had broken into the dungeons to save the innocent, who had really been trying to tell the princess that the Fireduke was planing a hostile takeover. Posie hoped that the King and Zelda were better than that, and The Silver Sapphire was only a book after all, but just to be safe… the King had gone back to muttering about the voices he'd heard and Posie silently thanked the Goddesses and the Triforce for her good luck and shuffled over to Elaine.

"Come on, it was just a trick of sound—probably just an echo caused by the halls. Now really, Daddy, we must get moving. We promised Daatthu we'd meet him for a conference on the state of agriculture in… well, hello, what do we have here?" Zelda meticulously snatched a stray card from the floor. Posie's throat constricted instantly. In their haste to become hidden, they had been clumsy about not leaving a trail—and a great deal of Elaine's cards had been thrown about as they had fled, and a path of hearts, spades, diamonds and clubs marked clearly the path they had dashed out as they sprinted for the drapery. Elaine shook her head and held her forehead in her twisted palms—as though trying to force it to stay on her shoulders.

"And here's another… and another… and another! My, someone must have had quite the urge to play Fifty-Two Pickup. Now the only question is… who do you suppose…" Zelda was forming a neat little deck in her left hand as she delicately folded them there with her right. Even the smallest of her gestures was dainty and imperial.

Posie's voice caught on a hook in her throat and came out as a gurgling, sloppy noise that resembled a cough, but was more like the noise someone made to either clear phlegm or something slightly more obnoxious. She had wanted to scream "Don't kill us!" but now realized how purely idiotic that would be and snagged herself just in time. The overall effect was disgusting, though, and she grimaced as she wiped a spray of spittle from her lip with her arm. Zelda hadn't heard. Not like it mattered. She was nearing on their hiding place.

"Seems to stop at the tapestry, dear… funny, it is looking a little lumpy…"

Posie settled for a gulp this time.

Zelda whooshed the hanging back at the same time as Posie defensively put her arms up to her face and shrieked, "DON'T HURT ME!" as the golden-enhanced light fell on her persona. Elaine pessimistically fumbled her armload of cards and grumbled, "Great. We're in for it," while shaking her head. Zelda seemed almost as shocked to see them as they were to see her and gave a womanly wail like the low notes on a flute that warbled into treble clef and out again. In an almost relievingly clumsy move, she churned over on her heel, flung the cards she'd collected about in terror and fell with a satisfying fwumph as air escaped her pillowy dress on her regal rear.

Posie cautiously let down her arms at this din and peered like a curious ape over the fine blonde hairs on her pink arm, seeing the Princess fallen and rubbing her bruised posterior. She wondered deftly for a moment if she'd scared Her Majesty. "Sorry" seemed too uncouth a remark and "uh, I didn't mean it," which would have been her reply under normal conditions, was right out. She had to be polite as possible. Although Link had never taught her much about behaving around royalty, as he hadn't expected the two to get to know each other so early, Sir Edrill always had to be courteous around the Queen of Derxelholm. And inferiority. That was key. Should she even speak without being spoken too? Even Elaine was a little spooked at the prospect of the proper behavior. Even more meekly than was usually for her average personality disguise, she whispered, "Please excuse me, Princess. I didn't—"

"Wha what?" Zelda had somehow contorted from massaging her behind to her forehead. "Could you repeat that?"

Had even that been too crude for the Princess's delicate ears? Her blood turning to ice in her veins, Posie repeated, this time a little louder but hopefully sweeter. "Please excuse me, Princess."

Zelda blinked. "Again."

Although the sensation was uncomfortable, she tried not to let the lightning bolts sizzling up and down her nerves jump into her arteries. She would speak louder, and sweeter still. Though it annoyed her, she would repeat those words over and over until the Princess was pleased. "Excuse me, Princess."

Zelda licked her lips. "My ears deceive me, I believe. Do it once more. Just once."

Electric daggers nudged at the cage containing her outrage. This Princess was turning out to be quite the stuck-up brat! She could stand it once or twice but this was a bit much. Perhaps she should… no, sarcasm was not an option. But it dangled as a proverbial carrot before her! Maybe if she let just a little into her words, Her Majesty would get the idea. "Ex- cuse me, Princess!" Did she catch the drift?

Apparently not. "Ahh, my mind is making me hear things that aren't there. I'm sorry to go against my word… I PROMISE I won't ask again."

That was the last straw! She was sorry, indeed! If she wanted an apology, she'd get it, alright—Posie Cassandra Blade style!

"Well, ex-CUUUUSE me, Princess!"

Zelda was alum-faced, but her eyes seemed to grimly smile satisfaction. "Just what I thought. Sorry again for all that—well, you know, you look a lot like one of my advisors, and he used to say that—all the time—and for a moment I thought… but no. I can see it now. Didn't mean to agitate you. You're such a precious little thing, to be truthful—like a living doll! And you're sweet, of course, too—" She hastily added the last with an afterthought with a look at a downcast Elaine.

"Thank you, Your Majesty," droned Posie who was now trying to calm the sea of wrinkles in her bunched tunic. Wanted to look her very best. What was it that the ladies always did before the Queen of Derxelholm? Curtsy, that was it. Posie pinched the edges of her tunic-skirt and kneeled forward on her knee, hoping it was the proper genuflection. A discreet, sideways-aimed kick evoked a similar bow from Elaine.

There were those million birds and silver bells again as Zelda laughed, in the same nectar-laden voice that had whistled in the hallway before. "Oh, now, don't be so silly! You don't need to curtsy! We're proud, but we're not demanding monarchs. Princess and King, in layman's terms. Come on now, up! Up on your feet! We'll have none of this. Look up into our faces!"

Though Elaine could comply without a single complaint, silent or voiced, this result in quite a neck strain for Posie, though not so much for the pancaked King Mercutioe as for the lanky Zelda. She made a mental note to herself to wish for height if she ever got her hands on the Triforce. She could never hope to be the greatest warrior in Hyrule if her full-grown self was little more than three feet tall. Growth spurt, she prayed, growth spurt.

"Oh," Zelda cooed, "you're even more adorable when you stand straight like that! Ooh, you've got such charming blue eyes, you do, and your hair! I'll bet silkworms would swoon over that hair!"

"Adorable" wouldn't have been the word Posie used. In fact, she considered herself to be a bit less than physically attractive. She had the widest shoulders of any other five year old she knew, and her nose was comically large and high-bridged for her face, though it was easier to tell it from the side. She had eyebrows so fair they were practically invisible, and her eyes were large and shiny as marbles. Her flat cheekbones and lips didn't aid to her plight, ridiculous considering her round face, and her legs and arms had that pudgy look of youth about them. She though she had a body shaped like a tube. And her hair was wispy and flyaway. Was that considered cute? She could just imagine herself fifteen years from then, the Royal Protector, and Queen Zelda calling her "cute." And she was short, to top it all off. Top? What a grim pun, she chuckled sourly to herself.

"Oh, you don't like that, then? Fine, you look horrible. Just to look at you hurts my eyes!" She hyperventilated into hysterics and Posie smirked difficultly. This Princess was a bit too silly for her own good, she thought. Posie wasn't entirely sure she liked her. She reminded the child a mite much of her cloaked self, toddling and innocent, a master of naivete. But there was no excuse here, for Zelda was a grown woman! Perhaps this was what a sheltered life did to a person. Anyone who could have glanced into her mind at that fleeting moment would have been amazed that such a lass could pensive thoughts of that complexity. That same omnipotence might also wonder when the last cleaning lady had dusted Zelda's brain free of kidling cobwebs. She was not quite the brightest bulb in the box, to be sure, but if you told her that, she would probably just stand there bewildered as to what sort of bulb you meant. Again, electricity did not like to rear its head around Hyrule for the magic.

Thankfully, Elaine urged her nerves into doing what Posie's could simply not coaxed into. "Your Majesty, I don't mean to be rude, but it is ungainly for you to be rolling around on the floor like that. It isn't even that funny really."

Oh, yes, you're right, child. I'll get up. I'm sorry. I amuse myself so much sometimes. Simple things, really…"

"Simple things amuse simple minds," Elaine inconspicuously bent down and mumbled in Posie's ear.

"What?"

Briskly Elaine rose. "Nothing, Your Majesty. Just… sharing a joke with my dear friend here. We really must be getting out, you know. Just, ah… out the way we came? Can't keep you busy."

"Nonsense! Even if you tried to leave, you'd find that door behind you locked until you gave it a destination, and I'm quite sure you don't know your way around the castle in the least sense. Please… let me. I can show you any place in the castle you like. What do you say?"

"Err…" Posie and Elaine looked at each other. Link had already promised them a tour. But then again, Link hadn't come back yet, and waiting was an awful chore. Zelda had spent her whole life here, and doubtless knew every secret passage there was to know. Even though a ditz she was, and very much her hair color, she was still royalty, and think of the stories they could share back at school! If Posie's parentage wasn't enough to boost her social life, then being taken about the palace by the Princess herself would! Even if the others didn't believe! But Link had told them… oh, fudgetabout what Link had said. This was the chance of a lifetime! He could find them. They nodded in unison.

"Wonderful!" Zelda spastically clapped her hands together in excitement. "Now, what are you girls interested in? Food? We have a wonderful kitchen. Fairy tales? Our library has more than enough bedtime story material to last you a lifetime. Games? I can show you our personal stadium. Flowers? The gardens are always a treat! Come now, name anything!"

They eyed each other again, smiling viciously to one another and whipping back forward. "Knights," said Posie. "You know, the big tough guys who risk their lives for the land. The brave men and women who valiantly fight for justice and freedom! Shining armor is optional, but, always a plus. Got anything along those lines, Your Majesty?"

"Oh, please, call me Zelda. Got your hopes set on marrying one of those tall, handsome soldiers one day, do you? Well, I have just the thing for that!" Posie winced at her giggling and remembered that some kinds of birds screeched and squawked instead of chorusing glamorously, and that even bells of priceless silver could crack. What an exasperating noise that was now! How could anyone her age even begin to worry about things that would happen more than a decade from then? True, some girls were betrothed to another as soon as they were born, and in that case, a boy who grew up to be a knight was a very fine catch indeed. But even so, the girls would rarely think of their future husbands as tots! No such arrangements had been made for Posie, thank goodness. She had the strong urge to whine in this overgrown brat's face. But now was not a time to erupt. Calmness, her mantra played in her head.

"Err, no. Actually, hoping to be one. We're not really interested in boys yet."

"Oh." The princess seemed veritably subdued and placed her hand across her front. "Well, there's a change in plans then." Premature wrinkles in her forehead groaned of melancholy, perhaps because these strange new friends of hers did not share her beliefs. But, not being out of the castle much, she was a beggar in her own right, for friendship. And indeed, beggars cannot be choosers. They would have to suffice. She could count the number of personal friends she'd had up to then on one finger—and Link could still be an awful blockhead at times. Better to find them while they're young and generous, with all the friendship in the world to give—and kindness, too. These girls were polite. They knew how to act around royalty, albeit a bit too well.

"Ah, fine then—no big deal. I was going to take you to the Knight's Hall, our little museum of our best, but, well, apparently that sort of thing isn't your gamut. Maybe you'd like to see the forge instead."

"The forge?" synced the words as they beat their way out of gaping mouths.

"Yes… where our blacksmith works. You do know what a blacksmith is, correct?"

Posie made a "Duh!" sound in her throat. This might not gloss over quite as well as they'd hoped, if Zelda kept taking them for idiots… pot kettle black. "A blacksmith is a person who works with metal. I know all about them. They make everything from horseshoes to cauldrons to weaponry… We'd get to see a real one's workplace?"

"Yes! Our royal blacksmith is one of the best. He looks tough, but he's softer than melted iron at his core. Plug your ears, though. Curses like a sailor, he does. Come along!" She beckoned her arms and skittered down the dragon's lair. Exchanging one last glance of their mutual, visual language, they pattered after the princess down a deep crimson-plated cavern of fire-flecked marble and steep black pillars armored in yellow-orange opal. Tapestries milled about the walls here too, and Posie stopped for a moment to appraise a large silken one, picturing a stylized human figure, green, tan and brown, looking daggers at a solidly inky midnight reflection, standing guard over a dreaming pink crescent in the bowels of a feverent volcano. Elaine tugged at her collar just as the girth of the situation in thread came to light, and the most she ever had time to work out was a man facing his shadow in order to save the sleeping, flat moon—who she now knew to be a person. Perhaps it was symbolic of nightmares and combatance of fear…? No, that was wrong; why then did the snoring one not resemble the man and his eclipse? Her feet refused to pedal and she found her leather soles thunking against steps rising from the floor and swathed in red carpet, scar-dipped from use. A similar shape held a silver hammer to the maw of a masked, horned, glitter-eyed serpent, rising from a pit of lava with strands of crewel fire soaring behind. Her dissatisfaction with the impertinent heiress was probably what caused her to mistake her own father, stitched as a legend into the story-hangings, for some Hylean folk hero.

Zelda was wailing up ahead as they approached cleaner, whiter walls pockmarked with wooden, iron, stone and even gold and silver doors. Something about the importance of each. One, she mentioned, was the quarters of the Court Sorcerer and Minister of Wizardries, a long-toothed man with a wildly impronounceable name like "Shahazadeh" or "Shaherhalla" or something like that. It had started with an "s-h" sound, anyway. Another door on the left… kitchen. There were no more doors along the hall's length for a ways after that. Except on the right… fire chiefs, warrior mages, various other things… except they could all somehow be related to fire. An ingenious organizational system, if you had the patience to admire it. Posie, unfortunately, had had most of hers purloined from her and dumped into the waiting skull of Zelda. She seemed so easily at peace now, and Posie wanted to shout. Psychically, Elaine mumbled over her shoulder, "I'm putting you down now, so you'd better put your own legs to work. My arm is sore. And by the way, could you not make a scene? I can feel the vibes. At least it's better than Go Fish with a mutilated stack of cards, right?"

Posie snarled something under her breath. "How is it everyone always knows what I'm going to do next?" She straightened out her folding neckline, creasing the pleats back in place and returning the bit of jaunty poof to her undershirt.

"You've got an aura, Pose, I swear. A green, swirly aura. Hey—blame it on your mom. You told me yourself, you got magic from her…"

"I can just barely manifest a couple of floating green lights on the tip of my nose. Woo. All powerful magic."

"Woo, big word. Manifest. And you kiss aforementioned mother with that mouth?"

"Woo-hoo, aforementioned. You're such a sage."

"Woo, you're half of one."

"Woo."

"Woooo!"

"Woo-wa woo-wa, will you both kindly please stop it? We're here, anyway. This is the forge!" She stood in front of a crusty, blacked door plugged with rivets and trembling as something with the muscle capacity of an elephant paraded and paced beyond.

Elaine flattened an ear to the unsteady surface and recoiled instantly.

"That guy could use with some soap for his mouth, huh?" Zelda said quizzically.

"No… that door's piping hot! Practically melted my ear tips off. Through, yes, I know I'd get a telling off for ever using any of that guy's vocabulary. He doesn't seem too happy."

Zelda nodded her head slowly and tiredly through the air, which, Posie now noticed, was thickened by heat. A great salty ball of sweat dripped off one of her protruding, caddy-whompus bangs and stung into her eye. She lifted a tiny fist, blinked, and rubbed the irritant from the sea-sky corona. Smoke now seemed to be gushing from the unblocked spaces beyond the door. And more rabidly did the blacksmith swear, though he did seem to be making an effort to keep the hexes limited to ancient Hylean.

"Yyturi! Gliorion! Goddesses blast! Metal! Where is the gliorion metal? Yyturi! Can't do this commission without a hunk of gliorion metal! A gliorion blacksmith can't do anything without gliorion metal! And even with the metal… these proportions are insane. He's asking me for a butter-knife with a cross hilt! A yyturi cross hilt! Butter-knife! Yyturi, how does he expect me to do this? My hands are made for crafting halberds, katana, and broadswords, not this fiduss!"

Zelda's face seemed to be melting into a frown under the pressure of the fire. "I warned you his mouth was foul. Don't ask me to translate that, you know. Another thing—his temper is as hot as his fires. Sounds like he's getting a bit frustrated with his latest project. Stay here, girls. I'll go an see what's bothering him."

A blast of misty steam and blackened smoke issued forth from the crack as the Princess carefully place her hands upon the searing door handle and inched the metal blockade open. Magically magnified without the thick wall between the thundering shouts and the receiving ears, the blacksmith's shrieks were even louder, and oddly shrill, come to think of it, for the barrel-chested man who was just barely visible through the crack made by the door ajar.

"FIDUSS!" The smithy had spied Zelda's face leaning into the glowing inferno he had surrounded himself in, all lights extinguished and windows nonexistent, but coals humming fiercely with fire. "The last thing I need!" His sooty hand clutched a blue scroll of parchment, etched in chalk, which he threw madly at the ground. It opened slightly, bounced, and rolled beneath the firing chamber, forgotten clamps sticking out of its small opening and getting ready to roast the next lump of iron he was sent. Or was waiting to be sent, apparently.

Zelda tried to smile innocently, but ended up looking very false and almost scheming. She brought up her right hand beside her head and waved in a very timid manner. Sweat, both from nervousness and the temperature inside the shop, rained from her forehead. "Uh, hi," she coughed. Even when she stood at full and not a lean, the smith was taller than her by several heads, not counting his terrific ruddy beard, tangled and dusted, that hung down half the length of his torso. He was nearly bald, but the crown of hair that he had left was the same auburn-red color as his beard. His eyes were fierce and black. They glimmered even in the smoky darkness, like two deep oil pits drilled beneath his tightly-knit brows covered in their entirety by thick caterpillar bristles.

"What do you want now? Not to be rude, Your Majesty, but unfortunately I've quite recently been saddled by a project not only frustrating and nearly impossible for a man with hands like these," at which he held up callused palms for emphasis, "but also difficult until this client, who will pay off in both favors and cash, comes back with a suitable piece of metal!"

"Ah, yes, well, I see," said Zelda, who in truth, metaphorically in mind and literally in the clouded pitch-black room, didn't. "How long ago did you send this, err, client of yours off for a block? The castle's big, you know, and the stockpiles are down in the basement, which in turn is nearly impossible to get to unless you know how to turn the doors." By this she meant knowing how to make them go to one place instead of the other.

"Over half an hour ago, and he knows his way around," the smith replied. He fiddled with one of the buttons in the collar of his tartan flannel shirt. "I'm just about gliorion ready to go down there at get the yyturi metal myself." He was falling into swearing again. "Unless of course Her Majesty would like to go and get it." He said this quite obviously sarcastically.

Like her usual self, however, Zelda did not get it. "Oh! Well then, if you insist!" And before the smith could protest, she had swooped up on Posie and Elaine and carted them off to go find a hunk of metal.



***************************

Link admitted to being a bit dumbfounded when he returned to the rotunda, lugging a great dull block of smelted but so far useless iron, to see a large patch of dirt on the floor, a few scattered playing cards, a disturbed tapestry and the King milling about and humming like he was standing in line for a play in the Hyrulean ballet. When Link inquired, the king said that Zelda had met a pair of charming young girls hiding behind the tapestry minutes before and had taken them off to the Forge. The King then rebelled with a quiz of his own, asking Link why he had cradled in his arms a solid lump of gray material. Link had shaken his head and groaned, inwardly shouting at himself for not checking back after receiving the orders from the smith to make sure Posie and Elaine would be willing to wait any longer. And it was just his luck Zelda had gotten to them first, not known who they were and been so taken with them that she started to tote them about without any further ado. Well, if they had gone to the forge, then chances already were that his little surprise had been spoiled. If they were still there and Drenenn the blacksmith had said nothing, then they'd start asking questions of him the moment he returned with the metal. Oh, the cold hand he had been dealt—literally; he could almost feel the frostbite setting in to his fingers from the near-frozen metallic surface.

As it turned out, however, he'd been fairly lucky. Dren, as he was fondly known, informed Link that Zelda had already left, and though he had not laid eyes on either child even Zelda was not liable to leave them behind. He had sent them off on the same task, which he had assumed Link was failing at, but only Zelda knew what they were after and none had any idea why they were after it. Things could work out after all. Link tried to leave, but a gigantic hand held him back, Dren snarling about the proportions of the tool he was to craft and asking to have the warrior with him every step of the way so he could be assured of giving the proper result.

Zelda and company had no such luck. While Dren pounded and wielded away, they had no idea that his client had returned and spent the better part of the morning weaving about passages and halls, their progress greatly hindered by Posie, whom was now refusing to walk another step every fifteen minutes or so. Elaine was forced to drag her until she complied to moving. This was a slow, tedious process that made sure it took the strange band thrice the time it had taken Link to get to where they were going and back. By the time they returned to the forge, the door was firmly blasted shut by heat and key, and a sign hastily scrawled in whirling, circular font, stood frontwise: "Do Not Enter. Work In Progress."

"How about that!" exclaimed Zelda as she knelt and set the block of iron in front of the door with a rather befuddled air. "I suppose, what with the time that took, that person came back and has had poor Dren working like a dog to follow through. He's probably been at it for, oh, two hours now! Just listen!"

They did. A cold, steely ringing jolted the silent hall; the weight of a hot, still-sparking blade as it groaned beneath the weight of the smithy's hammer. Elaine thought it was ugly and screeching. But to Posie, the sound seemed to beckon her, like the ringing of chimes in the night, just how a lighthouse would send out its light, a beacon down the tried and true path. The sound waves were so thick she cloud practically taste them wavering through the air, and she blinked slowly and licked her lips at the noise. Human beings, it is said, can sense, even without seeing them, what sort of person another is going to be, whether they'll be friendly or cruel or even slightly shallow. And her "friend" sense was clicking alert signals at her like mad. Someone—or something—was in that room beside the blacksmith, and whatever the other was, it held the beginnings of a beautiful friendship. The only task was in finding out what it was.

"Good. But a bit flatter: there, that's the ticket!"

The voice hit her with a lightning pitch. Link? Could her father have been what she had sensed all along? No, his aura was different, cooler and more familiar, livid but more refined and smooth. This other was frantic, maniacal, darting about like a mouse in a maze, looking for an exit, a guardian angel… it needed a constant stream of attention, a steady diet of action, a quick one-two sort of pace surrounded it… and there was a steam hiss, and the aura was quieted. No! It rang again, louder this time, and it screamed as the mallet pounded the blade it was forming. Quicker taps but nearly identical force, it seemed. A hastier, more concentrated bounce, to flatten the end. Was her heart pounding in time? Blast her Blade blood for getting her so excited. She at least hoped to see what sort of weapon came out of the smith's work in the end.

Link continued to babble on instructions to Dren as he crafted, but all that came to Posie was the ringing of metal. There was a force in there she felt drawn to. But what?

The orchestra of iron sounds seemed to continue on for an eternity, though it was really only around fifteen minutes more. Then there were several exhausted sighs and the snapping closed of a hinged box, then mild and breathless laughter on both parts.

"I'm never doing that again."

"I'm never asking you to do it again. Again meaning as long as this thing lasts for, of course."

You could almost feel Dren smiling from fifteen feet away and behind a closed door. The man had a truly warming smile. "Always a pleasure, you know. Despite what I might say working. Be sure to give me the full report on its performance when you get back!"

"Naturally, old chum. You've done me a real favor, you know. You'll be getting a nice sum for this one, mark my words!" And the door swung open and out strode Link, head turned and right arm waving behind him, left with a large, velvet-coated box tucked beneath it. He stumbled over the block of iron set in front of the door, nearly lost his footing and tripped, and looked up from his recovery to stare Zelda in the face.

"Well! This is a pleasant surprise. Zelda Harkinan, Princess of Hyrule, and self-proclaimed fairest in the land. What on earth would you happen to be doing in front of the forge, ehh?" he said accusingly.

Zelda's reaction: Unsurprised. What else could she have expected from him? He didn't seem to think any sort of warfare unrelated to magic interested her. Well, wouldn't she be one-up on him when he met her new friends! "Nothing, Link, just waiting. Waiting to go inside. We DID, after all, bring a piece of metal just like you. Seems to be the toll around here, does it not?" Waiting for Link's feedback on the "We" comment… waiting… waiting…

And it looks like she'd be waiting awhile. Link didn't even seem to notice, in fact, that she'd used the word. "So I heard. Well, it was for naught, I'm afraid." He bit is lip, hunting for a new lead, then, happened to gaze down. "Hello, girls. I suspect you got a mite more interesting tour from Zelda than you would've had from me."

Zelda's jaw dropped. Posie crept out from behind her vacuous skirt. "Hi, Daddy," she said, certainly more subdued than usual. Her words practically clicked with a glugging sound as they meekly marched from her voice box. "Ahh… Me and Elaine, w-w-we…"

Well, maybe Zelda had been right about Posie after all. So this was the infamous daughter of Link! Not at all what she'd expected! How gentle and cute she'd been when they first met, so utterly deceiving… but how totally apparent now, in those surly fits she'd had. Yet she hadn't seemed to know what she was saying, as she spoke those hackneyed words… but it could mean that Link wasn't quite as obnoxious as he sometimes seemed. Kudos to him for that!

"No worry… I know everything, and I can't say I blame you. Partially my fault. But I've got the second and third parts of your surprises right here. The second one is mainly for Posie, but the third… well, you'll see." He turned his head to the right, to stare out a window with a mischievous smirk.

Elaine looked unsatisfied, made a sullen face, and asked the question Link couldn't have possibly hoped to avoid. "What's in the box?"

"Oh, this!" Link maneuvered the box from underneath his arm to poised on his lower arms. His palms cupped about brass latches. It was wooden and covered in crimson-violet velvet, at was about at big as the length from the tip of Link's middle finger to his elbow. "Ah, now I can't tell you that just yet. We must head to lunch first. After we bon appetite, then I'll show you. You can wait. After all, isn't food the number one priority?"

Zelda was going to protest, but thought the better of it. She wanted to say that the scale of priorities only went for the things you were most desperately in need of, but who would listen to Sigmund Freud psychobabble from a princess who though a five-year-old was attracted to knights in shining armor?





Lunch was a sparse affair. Despite the many goods, pastries, and sandwiches provided by the excellent royal cook Frelii, Posie and Elaine were much too overcome with excitement to be very hungry. Posie could usually stomach a typical-sized blueberry Danish despite the fact one was as big around than her head, but only managed a fourth of one then and there, plus a small(thought it would be fair-sized to her) glass of root beer. Elaine picked up a sandwich, realized it was peanut butter and put it back, and opted for a baked chicken breast. She, too, desisted finishing. She only took a few small sips of her iced tea.

"No appetite today, girls?" inquired Link has he stuffed several leaves of lettuce from his Caesar salad into his mouth. "You look so anxious. I thought you loved Danishes, Posie. And Elaine, you haven't touched your chicken in at least seven minutes and you totally rejected that sandwich—or was it peanut butter?" at which Elaine nodded. "Well, suppose if I were your age I'd be anxious too. I am, come to think of it. Anxious—not you age." He only invoked a couple of mild giggles.

He sighed into his salad. "Well, I give up, then. You want to see the box? The second part of the surprise? If it'll take care of the density of the air clouding your usual charisma, I'm for it. Err, Posie, would you mind coming over here for a moment?"

Posie enthusiastically shot up from her seat like a rocket, pressure and stress spring-loading her legs to a point where they were almost made tightly-wound rubber bands. "Yes!" She slid down from the makeshift booster, down the chair, and onto the floor before she approached Link. "Ready!" She practically saluted him.

"Alright." Link reached behind his chair and withdrew the box. "All yours, kid. But—woah woah woah! Not just yet, hot stuff! Gotta bone to pick with you first. Are you listening, Posie?"

Posie nodded, indicating she was, and then yawned—not much reassurance. Hungrily she eyed the little treasure chest resting between Link's palms. She thought she could hear a muffled pining coming from somewhere. And had the box just jumped on its own accord?

"Now, Posie Cassandra Blade…"

Uh-oh. The full name. Not a particularly comforting sign. What was to follow was going to be some sort of tirade on, most likely, why she was getting whatever it was and maybe even what it was, with a long series of instructions and a good deal of beating about the bush.

"Now, Posie, you're a good kid, and… you've never really let me down or anything… always done almost exactly as your mother and I have said, not broken too many rules, or caused a great deal of trouble. You've always been kind and willful, if not to say a bit stubborn at times, and never been spoiled and whiny like most other celebrity's kids. I know you would never really hurt anybody."

Yep. There was the evasion of the point, right there. Next came more of it, along with some sort of moral lecture on what she'd done to deserve this.

"I know it's not your birthday or anything," Link continued, "and in all honesty… I hadn't planed on getting this for you until you were older. But… I feel you're ready and can be trusted with this. I've always had tremendous faith in you. Besides, you'll need it. No, I feel there couldn't be a more ripe and ready time for you to receive this, Posie. Provided you do as you're told with it."

Check two. Now the words of caution. What for? Who knew until the box was opened?

"I'm only going to tell you this once, Posie, and if I catch you disobeying even once that'll be the end of it. You must promise me, promise me that you will only ever use the enclosed in self-defense, and only if there is no other way out. Is this getting into you, Posie? Otherwise, find me instantly or just run. Just having these isn't going to make you invincible, you know, but it'll help give you a little bit of edge you wouldn't have empty-handed. So better not go looking for trouble. And don't expect me to just go letting you at these everyday—only for practice, or whenever else you may have need. Do you understand, Posie Cassandra Blade?"

Posie tried to nod as sophisticatedly as possible, but ended up with an "it took you long enough" expression on her face. Link did wince. Subtly. Barely. But it was there. He was a little more reluctant in holding out the box. Posie was maybe just a tad more cautious as she opened the lid.

Both, however, were filled with awe as the brilliant amber jewel set in the miniature hilt winked at the three of them, the great center of a stylized, purple, eight-petaled flower whose leaves constructed the horizontal of the cross. Or blossom. Leather strands wrapped around the grip on the hilt, and the small sphere at the bottom was painted yellow with a tealy blue band. The blade itself was roughly six inches long and silver, a knife in comparison with other swords but just the right size for a person only fifteen inches tall. Similarly manufactured was a shield embossed with a motifed flower of the same type, along with a pair of gauntlets and a bow, quiver of arrows included with their shafts crafted of willow. Drenenn hadn't been the only busy one.

The instant Posie's northern paw secured around the leather bands wrapped around the grip, hand wreathed in a heavy brown glove, was when the odd little girl stopped being a nobody and became a warrior.