Chapter 4

A vast canopy of stars lay sprinkled across the vault of the night sky, as though someone had spilt pure light across the heavens, and Steelwater Raven, his apprentice Rohn reluctantly in tow, had to sigh from the beauty of it all. Assassin he may be, but he wasn't hard of heart, at least, he didn't think he was. They sat beneath a tree beside the river, watching the dark silhouette of the windmill as starlight played on its wooden form. The gentle lapping of the river mixed with the buzz and hum of the resident insects, glowing fireflies darting in and around their faces.

"They're in there," the assassin said with a weighty tone of finality. His gloved hand tapped against his crossbow, hanging from his belt in amongst all his other tools.

Rohn scratched the bridge of his nose, looking suitably unimpressed. "How can you tell?" He watched a solitary leaf break off a branch, spinning slowly down, until it came to rest on a bed of curved cherry blossoms, tinted pink and gently bobbing up and down on the surface of the water. "We haven't seen anyone go in or go out."

"That's because," Steelwater explained, running one hand through his fiery crimson hair, "they're not going in through the main door. They're too clever for that." A steady beat of natural music drowned out his voice momentarily, a song of chirps and hisses, punctuated here and there by a howl or a hoot. "They're going in via the workers entrance on the far side. That, and the fact that there's a faint hint of smoke coming through that cunningly disguised hole in the roof. Very clever – a disused mill, and they still take precautions."

Rohn squinted through the darkness. "If it's disused," he asked, "then why are the sails still turning?"

A grin flashed across Steelwater's face. "Haven't you heard the story of the Enchanted Mill? Two of the most powerful wizards in the whole of Hyrule tore through the land in an attempt to vanquish the other. In the end, they had their final battle, with the fate of the world in balance, here at this mill, the residual magic making the sails spin for eternity."

There was silence for a moment, and Steelwater was sure that he'd made an impression upon the boy. Then, with a deep frown on his face, Rohn looked up and said, "Why in the world would the two most powerful wizards of all time have their final battle in a bleeding windmill?"

Steelwater scowled. "You know, I don't like your lip, boy," he growled. "Clearly the two wizards knew that the only place their vast energies could be safely contained was in the spiritual and transcendental vortex of the great mill of the wind."

Rohn's eyes were as slits. "Spiritual. Transcendental. Vortex."

Steelwater's lips flapped as he let out an exasperated breath. "What the people don't know," he said, his voice low, "is that this is just one step in my plan for world domination. Oh, yes…Rohn, Spinster Jardel, this Shadow Lord…all of you are just rungs in the ladder. Oh, you'll see…yes, you will, and I'll make sure all your deaths are slow, excruciating, and tantalisingly sweet to behold."

Folding his arms as a deeper frown spread across his face, Rohn said, "I…uh…don't think you meant to say that out loud."

The assassin had the grace to look startled. "Clearly you are not aware of my overbearing genius, or else you would be cowering at my feet, begging me to bring you to enlightenment."

"Overwhelming."

Steelwater's mouth twitched. "What?"

"You said 'overbearing'," Rohn explained, his voice tight with barely hidden impatience, "and you meant 'overwhelming.' At least, I think you did…"

The skin on the assassin's face seemed to stretch in the starlight. "Clearly the sheer subtlety of my language cannot be comprehended by your grammatically challenged existence. It's a wonder I even use language at all, so far advanced am I from the petty demands of speech."

"Grammatically. Challenged. Existence."

Steelwater slapped the boy across the back of the head. "Stop doing that!" He let out a breath as his apprentice glared at him. "Now…the Shadow Lord will clearly be expecting the unexpected, so the only way to counter that is go with the expected, which in turn, because of its sheer simplicity, will become completely, utterly and devastatingly unexpected." The assassin let out a deep chuckle. "Well-played, my simple-minded, yet deviously tactically superior friend, very well-played indeed."

"You know when you said you killed all those people?" Rohn asked, blinking.

"Yes, lad," the assassin replied, his chest puffing with pride.

"Are you sure you weren't imagining it?"

Favouring the boy with a look dripping with disdain, Steelwater said, "What I mean is, we have to back to basics, go back to tradition." His eyes honed in on the windmill. "Boy…bring out the net."

-------

"Gentlemen," the Shadow Lord said, stepping out of the darkness into the main chamber of the mill, grin firmly in place. "Welcome to Cucco Club." Hands clasped behind his back, Link began to stroll around the room, his eyes darting from one member of his audience to the other. "The first rule of Cucco Club is that you do not mess with the cuccos." A fire burned in the middle of the room, crackling and spitting, turning the air dusky from the smoke that trailed up and through a freshly made hole in the roof. Zelda, Raenie and Kerric huddled around the pyre, their faces distorted from the shimmering heat. Navi flew overhead, slowly hovering.

"The second rule of Cucco Club," Link went on, his voice quiet, but steady, "is that you do not mess with the cuccos." The light of the fire pulled at the shadows stretched across the floor, so that they appeared as cloaks, black as night itself, left strewn across the ground. Standing in the middle of one such shadow, Link suddenly stopped short, spinning around to face them all, his heels grinding against the grit on the ground. "The third rule of Cucco Club," he paused for a breath, then let free in a near hysterical voice, "is that for the love of all that is Holy, you do not mess with the bleedin cuccos."

Kerric held up a hand, his eyes watering from the sharp tang of smoke in the air. "When you said you were going to train us," he said, a little uncertainly, "this isn't quite what I was expecting."

Link turned on him, a crazed glaze to his eyes. "You've always got to be prepared for the cuccos, mate. You never know when one might just burst out of the undergrowth and tear you limb from limb." Flames danced in the Shadow Lord's eyes. "They patrol the streets in packs, mate. They consider themselves the true rulers and masters of the world. I'm telling you…they control the Treasury…they control the Kings…they control what you read in the news scrolls. They abduct poor defenceless Hylians and perform vile, disgusting acts upon them. They're everywhere…in fact," his face took on a darkened sheen, his eyes glancing left and right, "they could be here right now. Listening. Watching. Biding their time, waiting for the moment when we drop our guard so that they can peck us to death, then feast on our fresh, juicy remains. They won't kill us, no, mate; they'll eat us alive, just so they can stare into our faces and say 'Let's see how you like stuffing shoved straight where the-'"

"Link." The Princess cleared her throat. "I don't think Spinster Jardel is going to have cuccos guarding her." She glanced to one side, saw Raenie lying flat on her stomach, pouring over a scroll, her feet kicking the air, and oblivious to all around her. "I really don't."

Link rubbed his chin, pondering. "You're right, love," he said, his tone reflective. "No one could be that evil." He let out a breath through pursed lips. "If only we had some Red Potion."

"What is that?" Kerric asked, confused. He brushed some dirt off his tunic. "Some kind of intoxicant?"

"Nothing of the sort, mate," Link replied, his old demeanour returning. "Can't stand that stuff, rots the brain."

Now it was Zelda's turn to be perplexed. "It's not an intoxicant?"

"It's a tonic," the Shadow Lord replied, a glint in his eye. "A healing one…revitalises the system. Very medicinal."

"But the way you drink it-"

"The way I drink it, love," Link cut in, his voice lined with impatience, "tells people that if they have one drop of that stuff, they'll go barmy. Ergo, they avoid it, meaning more for me – you know how rare those red herbs are? Can't have everyone exhausting the supply now, can I?"

"Wouldn't be better if everyone-"

"Everyone doesn't need it," he replied. "It's just for those whose occupational hazards are a little above the norm, love."

Zelda still wasn't convinced. "I'm sure the noblemen of Castleton-"

"Let me tell you," the Shadow Lord spat, cutting in once more, "about your precious little noblemen. They sit in their little castles, thinking that their opinions actually matter in the real world, gorging themselves on food and amusements, while in other parts of Hyrule people wallow in abject poverty - their only aim in life being the simple matter of keeping themselves and their families together and alive."

"Like us," Kerric piped in.

Link paused, his hands behind his back once again. "Like our esteemed friends." The fire popped as the Shadow Lord turned back to the Princess. "Now, correct me if I'm wrong, but to me it would be far more prudent if those more gifted of our citizens would pull themselves out of their indulgent little bubbles and do something productive to help those less fortunate to walk on their own."

"Some of them do," Zelda protested, but her words came across as hollow, even to her.

"Not enough of them, love," Link replied. "If most of them did, I wouldn't have to go around giving away all the excess wealth of Castleton's Treasury."

Tilting her head to one side, the flames warming her face, Zelda raised an eyebrow. "You do that?"

"I'm terribly sorry," Link said quickly, "Didn't catch that – nasty draught, gets in the ears."

Zelda blinked. "There's no-"

"So," Link went on, fixing the Princess with a pointed stare. "There are some nobles who do do something, granted, but even then they only do it to make themselves feel special and unique."

"You can't say that about all-"

"Exactly why they call themselves 'noble', I don't know. You'd think they would so something that is, oh I don't know, actually decent, wouldn't you?" Link paused again and this time Zelda didn't bother to respond. "But that's not what happens, is it, love?" the Shadow Lord continued. "I'll tell you what happens – when one of these noblemen suffer even the smallest setback in the pursuit of what they think they want, they wheel out the dramatics and think of doing away with themselves." There was clear distaste in the Shadow Lord's voice now. "You'd think that their petty little problems – inconveniences that wouldn't even bother most of the saner people in Hyrule, people who have got better things to aim for than their own personal satisfaction – you'd think that those problems were going to bring about the bleedin end of the world itself."

The Princess winced, falling into silence. It did seem a rather accurate portrayal of not only life at court, but of a lot of people she knew who had the fortune to live in dwellings that weren't about to collapse at the slightest touch, of people who didn't have to worry about where their next platter of food and pitcher of water was going to come from. She stood, brushing down her simple brown tunic. She'd taken to wearing the local attire; Link, too, had followed suit, wearing a deep, midnight blue cloak and tunic that she had to admit made him look rather fetching.

The Princess watched – the conversation obviously over – as Link trotted over to Raenie. "Young missy," he said, gazing down at her with a quizzical expression. "What is it you have there that's taking up so much of your time?"

The young girl looked up, smiling. "It's so scorching," she breathed. "After I told her your name, Miri got this scorching idea to write stories about you and her."

Link frowned. "You told her my name?"

Raenie nodded. "She just kept asking and asking. But, anyway, these stories are so scorching…all my friends read them."

"And, what," the Shadow Lord asked, "are these gems of literary wisdom about?"

"About you and her. About your life together."

Link scratched his chin, pondering. "What life together?"

"Well…if you had one, that is," Raenie replied with a deep sigh. "That's why we're all reading them…she calls them 'MirLinks'"

"MirLinks?"

Raenie nodded enthusiastically. "MirLinks."

The Shadow Lord's eyes narrowed. "That's not even a word."

Rolling her own eyes, the young girl let free an exasperated snort. "I knew you wouldn't understand," she snapped. "I'm going outside."

"What?" Link said, startled, as Zelda glared at him. "What?!"

"Don't go too far," Kerric called. He'd taken himself to one corner, polishing a curved blade that he'd purchased recently. Oil gleamed off of the metal as he spoke. "Stay close to the mill and come back if you even feel the wind change." There was a snap of a metal bolt, a creak of a rusted hinge, then the slamming shut of a door. A spray of water fell from the hole in the roof, tiny droplets splattering to the ground.

Sighing, Link bounded over to the single window, perching himself upon the sill, his head resting against the glass. Zelda slowly padded over to him, noticing the smile playing on his lips.

"Ah ha…look at that!" he gasped, grinning. "Splendid!" Link's face was alight with joy.

Zelda watched him, bemused. "What is it?"

"Shooting stars, love!" he cried. He looked as though he was in total rapture. "Wonderful stuff…have a look!"

The Princess carefully pulled herself up to the window. Gazing through it, she saw the blazing orbs of fire cut a path through the night sky, a trail of sparkling light in their wake. "It's…it's beautiful, I suppose," she muttered.

"Innit?"

Zelda glanced at him, saw the starlight dance on his delighted expression, bathing his face in a luminous hue. She felt her brow crease – she just couldn't wrap her mind this conundrum. One minute Link seemed to be almost a noble person, the next he was like this…

"You know what else is grand?" Link said, breaking her out of her thoughts.

"What?" she asked, curious.

The Shadow Lord slid off the sill, landing daintily on his feet. Zelda backed off, uncertainty biting at her heart. He whirled around her, his movements a blur. She felt faint touches whisper against her skin, her eyes unable to follow all of Link's motions. All of a sudden he spun to a stop in front of her, the corner of his mouth curled in a lopsided grin. He coiled his fist up to her face theatrically, then uncurled his fingers. Zelda jumped, startled to see her ring, twinkling under the starlight, sitting in the palm of his hand. Her eyes darted from her belt, to his palm, then to his grinning face.

"For the lady," he said. "Good, innit?"

Zelda set her mouth into a thin line, almost shaking her head. "Still a child, Link?" she said, sighing.

Link looked at her, smile in place, but now wearing a more sombre demeanour. His eyes twinkled in the faint light. "Why do you say that, love?"

"Well…you're so…happy…over something so mundane." She shook her head, gesturing towards the window, then to the ring. He was like this with his 'Hat.' He exuded the same sense of elation during the tournament, too - in fact, even during the myriad arguments the two of them used to have. "Doesn't really fit the image of the ruler of Castleton, does it? What would your subjects think if they saw you so?"

"Ah…so, it's wrong to be happy, is it?"

Zelda frowned. "I didn't mean that. I meant-" She stumbled over her words. "Well, doesn't it embarrass you?"

He held up a hand. "You know what I see, love, when I walk down the streets of Castleton?" he said, his voice quiet.

"What?" the Princess asked softly.

"I'll tell you – I see people who spend their time asking others: make me feel loved, make me feel wanted, make me feel important, make me happy, amuse me, give me knowledge, show me the truth, show me why I'm here – and do it all now." He glanced at her. "You know what I say to that, Princess?"

Zelda leaned her head to one side. "Go on."

"Do it yourself, that's what I say." He paused to take a breath. "It's only a child, love, that needs someone else to do things for them, it's only a child that can't find a way out of his own boredom, it's only a child that doesn't like to slip and fall once in a while, and prefers to have it all handed to her, getting all weepy when things don't go the way she wants them to go."

"Isn't that what you do?" Zelda asked, one eyebrow bent in a sceptical arch. "Don't you do all the things you do for the people?"

"No, love," he replied. "I give them what they need - food, safety, peace – so that they can find out what life is. They just never take the opportunity."

"Maybe they're afraid," the Princess said, her voice hushed. "Maybe they don't know how."

"That's right," Link went on. "Too afraid they'll do something embarrassing - or too afraid they'll bruise their little hearts - so they hide themselves away, happy to get a little bit of excitement from their fancy little tournaments, always looking for the next thrill to indulge in – since they believe they're only alive to feel pleasure and to be amused - and since the thrill they're currently indulging in doesn't really fulfil them as much as they thought it would."

His voice was thick, but the Princess saw that his words were not couched in any bitterness. He stepped closer to her. She didn't move away. "Is it really that wrong, what you're saying?" she asked, somehow still not wanting to let him have an edge here, though, she had to admit, she was fascinated despite herself. Perhaps now she could find out why Link was the way he was. Perhaps she could understand. "What's wrong with a little relief?"

"If it were only just that, love," the Shadow Lord replied. "But if it's their life's goal to fill their hearts and their stomachs while everyone else around them goes hungry – in a manner of speaking – then what kind of life is that? They're so 'distracted' that they don't even think about what they're truly doing, or where they're going. They just themselves be taken by the tide, following what everyone else around them is doing." They were standing almost face to face now, Zelda having to tilt her head back a little to gaze up at him. "You know what's worse than that, love?"

"What?" Her voice had taken on a husky tenor that she hadn't intended it to.

"They dig themselves into their little holes and then expect someone else to pull them out, crying like babies when that person never comes, or never turns out to fit the little picture they have in their heads."

Zelda held his gaze, smiling. "We all need people, Link."

"But we don't need to be dependent on them to think for us, feel for us, make us feel alive. That's just the problem, innit? They think they're doing it for themselves, but at the same time they don't realise how much they lean on everyone else to shape their own reality." Link's grin, forever confident and self-assured, flashed on his face. "They don't seem to be terribly aware of the fact that the only person that can truly make them happy or sad is their own little selves – right in here." He pointed to his head, his eyes burning as the words fell from his lips. "Not a bad thing to listen to the knowledge of those far wiser than you, but it's meaningless if you don't go and experience exactly what it was that made those people wise in the first place."

"Don't stop."

"You ask me if I'm embarrassed, love?" he said, cocking his head to one side, as though reminiscing. "Tell it to the people. The world isn't going to end if they take some risks, it's not going to end if they get humiliated and fail from time to time, and life isn't as dangerous or as terrible as they think it is." He turned his attention fully to Zelda. "It's an adventure, but only if you make it one. You can make it a prison if you like – a pit, if you will - but I'd prefer not to myself, thanks very much. You think I'm a child for believing that?"

She almost shook her head, but instead motioned for him to continue.

"You want magic, love?" the Shadow Lord said. "Go watch the sun rise in the morning." He glanced over his shoulder, watching the shooting stars tear across for the sky for a moment, then turned back. "Do the folks back home think I'm a child because I see something exquisite in the world around me? Because I see my own life as a voyage that I just want to savour? Because I'm simply happy to be alive?" He was standing over her now, their eyes locked. "Well, I think they are children because they're too scared to be alive."

Zelda gazed at him, blinking, the breeze that seeped in through the cracks in the wood rustling their tunics. "You're a very unique man, Link," she said. "You're strange, too."

The Shadow Lord's eyebrow arched. "How's that, love?"

Zelda found herself trembling, not exactly sure why. They were uncomfortably close now. "You almost sound like you despise the people. And yet…you seem to want to help them, too."

"Because," he replied, "all that matters is this: if you're alive, which I would wager most people would believe they are, then there's only one responsibility that's on your back."

"And that is?"

"To find out what your role in life is. If you haven't even bothered to find that out yet, then what's the point? Bleeding waste, really." He smiled, and for some reason, the Princess found herself smiling along with him. "I've found my role, love, even if it does mean it annoys me to the Pit and back that everyone else fumbles on regardless."

"You actually do care about your people, don't you?" she said, her voice gentle.

"I want them to stand on their own and know there's more out there than their own little dramas," he said, a surprisingly earnest twist in his words. "I want them to know that their own wants and desires are not the be all and end all of all things. That they don't have to amuse themselves to their graves in a mockery of a life."

"You know what?"

Link leaned in closer, and she could feel the heat of his breath on his skin. "What?" he replied, his own voice muted.

Zelda held out her hand, palm down. "I think I may be glad that I married you after all."

The Shadow Lord took her hand, his fingers curling around hers, then pulled her close with a gentle tug. She felt him push her ring into her hand. "Is that so?" he whispered.

The Princess' lips parted, her eyelids drooping, waiting as Link edged closer. "Hero."

"If you say so." Their lips brushed, a feather-like touch –

- and the Princess and the Hero jolted upright as a scream tore through the air.

"Raenie!" Zelda gasped.

"Cuccos!" cried Link.

Kerric was at the door in an instant, his blade at the ready. Zelda followed him through at a sprint, Link and Navi bringing up the rear. As a blast of cold air hit the Shadow Lord in the face, he would remember this precise moment as the instant when everything rolled into a heart-lurching blur. He saw Raenie's panic-stricken face, saw her struggle as she was held tight by an unknown young man. He heard the crack of a rope snapping taut, saw the very earth lift as a criss-crossed net peeled up off of the ground, folding around Kerric and Zelda like a mouth, swallowing them whole. A whisper of diced air reached him, a dart slicing the air then thudding into his chest. Instantly he felt some cold spike out from the wound, spreading its way through his entire body. Link stumbled, staggering under the net held aloft on a rope between two trees, then tumbling down an incline, his cloak tangling with his tunic, sharp-edged rocks and twigs scratching him all the way down, leaves flying in his wake.

Head spinning, biting down to stop the sudden rush of nausea, the Shadow Lord slowly raised his eyes. He caught one glimpse of the Princess, his heart catching in his chest, before a grinning scarlet-haired man dropped into his line of sight. The man stamped on Kerric's discarded sword with his heel, the blade flipping up into his hand. "Greetings," he said. "You should the honoured. You are one the very few people who have met Steelwater Raven face to face."

Link struggled to speak, but whatever poison had seeped into his veins from dart's steely tip had made his jaws clench in pain. His fingers dug into the earth, soil squeezing in his palms.

"Now you have to admit," Steelwater went on, "that my plan was flawlessly well-played, very well-played indeed. So simple. So effective." He tilted his head to one side. "You're wondering if I'm going to kill you?" He licked his lips. "No such joy, I'm afraid. See, the Mistress would like to invite you up to her Fortress. She's been quite taken by your tenacity in avoiding death." A humourless smile crept across his face. "But, both she and I knew you'd need an incentive to drop in on us out your own free will. So I'm just going to take this young man and the lady here up to the Spinster. Once you've recovered from my dart, you're more than welcome to come and pay us a little visit." He snapped his head around towards the younger man. "Boy! Leave the girl – and get these two ready. We're leaving."

It didn't take them long. Link guessed that they tied up their prisoners and left within a half hour of their capture. From the corner of his eye, he saw Navi spinning around young Raenie, desperately trying to comfort her as she watched on in horror. Finally their attackers were gone, and the Shadow Lord felt some of his strength flow through his body. He smacked his lips as the feeling returned to his face.

Raenie knelt beside him, Navi floating close by. "They took them," the young girl breathed, the breeze whipping at her hair. "I can't believe it." Steel flashed in her eyes, though the rest of her was trembling. "I'm going there. I'm going to get my brother back."

Navi descended to the ground. "Hey!" she said, though even her voice was muted. "Time to rescue the Princess again, Link? We have to go get her, right?"

Link pulled himself up, dirt streaked across his face. "No, love, not the Princess," he said softly. He smiled at the other two. "Time to go get my wife."