7 – Killyjanmaro

"Hold up, old chaps!"

The tone of Mr Red's voice was so disarmingly cheerful that it took Link a moment to realise that he'd just given a warning. The Shadow Lord had been busy gazing at his crystal, noticing that the ghostly clock in its glimmering surface had now gone past eight and was approaching nine. It must have been a fair while, Link mused, since they had pushed aside the boulder to enter the passage leading here. It certainly felt like it had been a while. The trail had taken them down underground, through dark narrow tunnels, then up into the open air again, into a part of the forest Link did not recognise. It was really rather a somewhat eerie place – the air tasted ancient, and the landscape was strewn with shattered pillars ribboned with ivy vines. And that shocking sky! It was always a deep, deep blue, as though it were permanently stuck in either dawn or twilight, one single star winking at them forlornly, reminding them of just how desolate and lonely the place was.

Link pushed himself to the front of his merry party – one ReDead, one jolly old man, one not so jolly young man, two Fairies, and a somewhat strange Love Fairy with an accent he couldn't quite place; what a bizarre little ensemble he'd banded together! The Shadow Lord sighed; even in his most private thoughts, he couldn't stop being sarcastic.

"What's the trouble, Mr Red?" Link asked.

Mr Red motioned with his hand. Up ahead the path narrowed, hemmed in on both sides by a veritable wall of dark looking thickets, the twigs and branches entwined in a claw-like embrace. "Those holes, what?" Mr Red said, pointing at several dark openings punctured into the undergrowth.

Simon DeLance poked his head over Red's shoulder. "Hedgehogs, maybe," he said, his eyes scanning the path ahead. "Or possibly squirrels." He slapped the Trapsnapper on his back. "You're not scared, 'old chap', are you?"

"Who's talking about being scared, fool?" Mr C said, buzzing overhead as usual. "I ain't scared of no hole, sucka."

The ReDead shuffled up behind them. "I hope I don't catch myself on those branches," he said, his face sagging (but, for once, staying put). "I'll be torn apart."

"Lucky you," Simon replied, before the Shadow Lord gave him a withering look.

The other two Fairies, chatting quietly amongst themselves, flew up high. "Hey!" Navi cried.

"What do you see, love?" Link asked.

"A bridge," Hawthorne replied.

"Like the one we had to cross to get into the forest," Navi added.

The Shadow Lord glanced over at Mr Red once more. "Those holes...?"

Mr Red simply smiled, reached into his pocket, pulled out a coin, and flicked it into the thicket.

The entire group jumped back as, one by one each accompanied with a whoosh of air, a spear flew out of every hole, stabbing the air with a rusted metal tip that glowed dully under the strange sky, then jammed tight as it reached the opposite side, effectively barring their path. They stood, blinking, a whisper of a breeze making the bracnhes up ahead tremble. Slowly, they navigated their way through the trail, squeezing their way through the gaps between the spears, stopping only to let the ReDead pull himself together after he'd accidentally – and inevitably - knocked off a limb or two.

Finally they found themselves facing the rickety old bridge and, after peering down, they noticed that instead of a stream beneath there was some sort of bubbling black liquid that hissed and spat, turning the grass and shrubs on either bank into curled charcoal stalks. Link raised one foot, ready to test the structure – when Mr Red shot out an arm to hold him back, the jolly man's face lit with a knowing smile.

"Allow me, what?" Mr Red said. Again he pulled out another coin and, after letting it roll between his fingers, he dropped it on to the bridge. There was a moment of utter silence as the troupe watched, confused – and then a low creak rang out; the walkway shuddered, then collapsed into the water with a crackling sizzle, the burning liquid literally swallowing it whole.

"Tell me, mate," the Shadow Lord said, blinking. "Do you always make a habit of throwing away your money?" He said it in jest, but inside a deep respect had ignited for the Trapsnapper.

Simon peered over the edge, wincing as the sharp tang of sulphur reached him. "Great, just great," he muttered. "I suppose there's nothing else left to do except throw ourselves in."

Link let out an irritated breath through clenched teeth. "Oh, here's an idea," he spat. "Why don't we push young Mr DeLance in face first and then use him as a raft?" He glared at Simon, then jabbed him in the chest with his finger. "Can you float, mate? Can you?"

"Hey!" Simon said, backing off. "There's no need to be so aggressive!"

Eyes narrowed, the Shadow Lord grinned. "Oh, isn't there?"

A sharp snap rang out, like the cracking of an immense whip. Looking up, the Shadow Lord saw the ReDead straining, one arm stretched across the expanse, his hand digging into the dirt on the other side.

"There's...nnn...an advantage of having...nnn...undead flesh," the ReDead said, the rotted stumps of his teeth clenched. "Use...nnn...my arm as a...nnn...rope...and climb across."

"How marvellously convenient," Link said, smiling. "Let's hop on over."

And so they did.

There was only one moment a panic when Simon, who had decided to cross with his eyes closed, dared to take a peek and, seeing the churning ebony mass below belching smoke, decided to freeze and scream. Link, directly behind him, simply growled and kicked him in the back, the jolt enough to give Simon the impetus to move on. Landing safely on the other side, they waited for the ReDead to join them by snapping across like a catapult.

"Well," said the Shadow Lord, brushing himself down and surveying their surroundings. "That little jaunt established three things – Mr Red is every inch the expert he's said to be, our ReDead has talents hithero hidden, and young Mr DeLance screams like a little girl."

"Hey!"

"I don't think I can do that all the time," the ReDead said, rubbing his arm. "I don't know why...I just feel dirty, like I've abused my undead powers."

Link raised an eyebrow, but said nothing. He turned – and saw two small patches of grass slide apart, two child sized figures popping up in unison.

"Halt! said the one on the left.

"You stop by default!" said the other.

"Welcome to the Land of Killyjanmaro."

"But we're afraid any further you really cannot go."

"Behind us is a magical wall barring your way."

"Unless you can give us a rhyme, you must go a-way."

"East Killy, West Killy, it doesn't really matter,"

"My name is Jaeri and my partner here is Zatter."

Mr C buzzed overhead, his glowing form striking against the unnatural twilight skyline. "Who are these suckas?"

"Kokiri," Hawthorne said, her voice strangely hushed. She shed Fairy Dust as though it were a second skin – it was a bad habit of hers that only happened when she was deep in thought. The tiny incandescent drops rained to the ground. "They're Kokiri."

"I pity these fools." Cupid flew straight over their heads – and in a flash of magical energy found himself thrown straight back. "I'll gut them all!" he said, rubbing his head.

Mr Red smiled amiably, looking around in a haze of incomprehension. "What is it they're wanting, what? Bon bons, is it? Candy for the little chaps, eh?"

"Hey!" Navi cried, hovering silently, the gurgle of the dark river coupled with a breeze they couldn't quite feel being the only sounds in the air. "A rhyme! They said they want a rhyme!"

Closing his eyes, Link let out another breath of frustration. He didn't have the time for this. "Look, you little buggers, just let us through, or I'll take my nice shiny sword and stick it through the both of you!"

The river popped and gurgled behind them as everyone fell into silence. Slowly all eyes turned to the Shadow Lord.

"That was really quite good," said Simon, grinning. "For an on-the-spot sort of thing, that is."

"Jolly good show, old chap," Mr Red said, agreeing.

Navi spun happily in the air as Hawthorne and the ReDead attempted to slap each other's palms. "Link!" she cried. "Link, you've done it again!"

Looking at each of them in turn, the Shadow Lord wore an expression of complete bewilderment. "What?" he said, his voice uncertain. "What did I do?"

"Another!" said Jeari.

"Yes, another!" said Zatter. "Another rhyme, says we."

"And, then," Jaeri chimed in, "you'll all truly be free!"

Link, still not quite understanding what was going on, curled his hands into fists. "Rrrrrrr!" he growled. "Stop it with the songs, you great pair of chillis, one more word out of the both of you and I'll slap you silly from East to West Killy!"

Jaeri and Zatter turned to each other. "That'll do nicely!" they said in unison before vanishing in a puff of smoke.

"What? What?" Link cried, confused, as the others slapped him on the back with hearty cries of "Hurrah!" and "Bravo!"

2

The further they went from the dark river, the more the landscape changed. Ivy vines still clung to the broken debris of long-forgotten palaces, but here the grass was fresh, the summer scent of blossom strong and – at last- the sky shimmered blue, the sharp glint of the sun riding high among an expanse of wispy clouds. Fairy Dust floated through the air here, caught on warm currents of air that stroked their faces, a fountain of sparkling light, scented rose, that clung both to their clothes and the tall, thick trunks of the nearby trees.

This was the Kokiri Forest Link remembered. A sudden pang, sharp like a slap to the face, stabbed his heart. He was filled with an immense yearning – a longing not to just go back to the 'home' where he'd been raised, but to take his wife with him. She would, he knew, have had a simply splendid time lazing in the sun on a blanket of flowers, thanks very much. The Shadow Lord pushed the thoughts away – he had responsibilites now, both to Castleton and the Princess, and it wouldn't be wise for him to childishly wish for a simpler time. You could never go back, not unless you travelled by a river of madness.

He wasn't, though, the type of person who didn't realise that just because his duties were serious, it did not mean that he had to take himself seriously. He could, as he constantly reminded the Princess, still appreciate the simpler things even while he went about his business; enjoy them without desperately trying to become an image of maturity that he noted other people were so keen to display to others – as though the poor loves and mates needed other people to confirm it for them - even though it was those very people that indulged in frivilous matters like those pesky tournaments in the King's Palace.

Still. He hoped he could bring Zelda...well, if not here, then to the Forest itself. She'd love it.

"Hey!" Navi whispered, floating up to the Shadow Lord's ear. "What's so funny? What are you smiling about this time?"

"Was I smiling?" Link said, not realising that that's what he'd been doing. Not that anyone could tell given that that was the usual expression he wore. "I'm just reminiscing."

Hawthorne's tiny voice broke through the Shadow Lord's musings. "I wonder what those Kokiri were doing here," she said. "They all left the Forest when the war started. Scared them off, no doubt."

The Shadow Lord looked up. "Maybe they-" There was a sudden change in the air, a sudden dimming of the sunlight poking through the trees. "Hold." His eyes scanned the horizon, going from the undergrowth up to the tips of the trees – he froze. His gaze focused on a lone oak, Fairy Dust raining from it like a slow-moving sparkling waterfall. There was a whispered crackle of leaves. Link narrowed his eyes. "Whoever you are-"

A spear rammed into the tree, knocking leaves rustling into the air. There was a shriek, then a small hooded figure dropped down to the ground. Its head snapped up, piercing emerald eyes fixing the Shadow Lord with a stare, then it bolted, more spears screaming in on its trail.

In an instant, the Shadow Lord of Castleton had his blade spinning into his hand, a razor-thin streak of light running down its edge. "Gentlemen, Fairies," he called out behind him. "Your weapons – or whatever it is you have to defend yourselves – at the ready, if you please." With two sharp turns of his head, Link spotted both the fleeing Hood and the pursuing spear-men. He leapt, following Hood's trail. Grabbing an overhanging branch with his free hand –it sagged under his weight, but held firm – he swung, then let go, rolling gracefully in the air, the sun's warmth prickling his back.

Landing with a crunch of broken twigs, the Shadow Lord heard his friends smashing – clumsily, he would have to admit – through the undergrowth. He took a quick glance over his shoulder, and saw that Hood had paused for a moment, standing in a raised clearing at the head of a weather-worn path, watching everything intently. "Wait!" he called. He turned back with a snap of his neck, just as the spearmen came into view. "Wolfos?" the Shadow Lord breathed. But these were not ordinary Wolfos, oh no. These were snarling, growling beasts who stood upright on two legs, clothed in the attire of woodsmen.

Link tensed as one of the beasts, yellowed eyes narrowed over a drooling snout, twirled a spear into one hand, pulled back his arm, and threw. Just as the Shadow Lord focused on that attack, he saw, from the corner of his eye, the other creature throw his own weapon. Dodging and weaving, Link spun this way and that, the spears screaming past his twitching ears, missing him by a hair. More of the steel-tipped javelins streaked towards him riding the wind, spinning, the air around them distorted.

The Shadow Lord laughed, almost manically, his fear blunted by the sheer exhilaration of battle. With a downward slash Link snapped the first spear in two, then spun around to catch the next, his sword trailing twinkling Fairy Dust. Another one was upon him in a heartbeat and – finally – Link felt true terror freeze in his veins. His mind raced, his thoughts jumbled – and only two words, totally disconnected to the other, burned into his consciousness just then: Zelda. Trust.

The sun was eclipsed, a shadow falling over Link's face, a shadow that grunted and shook, stumbling back. His senses returning, the Shadow Lord saw that the ReDead had stepped in to take the blow. Link glanced up at the undead man. "Thanks, mate," he said. "That's twice in one day you've come in handy."

"Don't mention it," the ReDead said, pulling the spear free with a somewhat sickening plop. "Anytime."

A sudden thought popped into Link's head and the Shadow Lord grinned, a glint in his eye.

The ReDead looked worried. "What?"

"I do believe, mate," Link replied, "that I'm currently in dire need of a shield; an unbreakable one at that."

"Oh no!"

Link cackled. "And you just happen to match that particular description."

"Hey!" the ReDead shouted as the Shadow Lord shoved him forward, spears whizzing around the both of them. "Stop!"

Pushing onwards, the ReDead harmlessly taking every strike ahead of him, Link waded in, dead vegetation churning and snapping under his boots. The Wolfos, their saliva coated teeth grinning, snarled as he inched closer. The Shadow Lord peeked over his 'shield's' shoulder, saw a sparkle of glinting light – then flung himself flat against the ReDead's back as another spear pierced the space where his head had just been. Droplets of sweat pooling at the collar his tunic, Link flexed his fingers around the hilt of his sword, dug his other hand into the ReDead's dead skin, then swung in, sword at the ready. All it took was a pair of precise slashes – stunning the beasts – to send the Wolfos running deep into the forest, their mournful howls hanging in the air.

"Link!" Navi called, zipping through the trees. "Hey! Are you ok?"

Pausing to give one last lingering look at the Wolfos fleeing forms, the Shadow Lord turned around, flicking dirt off of his tunic. "Don't worry about me, love. How's that hooded person doing?"

"What about me?" the ReDead said, tugging spears from his undead flesh. "Isn't anyone going to ask how I am?"

Link turned to him slowly, one eyebrow raised. "You're dead, Mr ReDead," he said, his voice blank. "I can hardly tell you to put a little cream on that, drink plenty of juice and get some rest, now can I?"

"She's fainted!" It was Hawthorne, clearly distressed. The Shadow Lord snapped his head up, saw the Hood lying crumpled on the ground. "She just dropped!"

Bounding over rocks and boulders, branches slapping him in the face, Link ran over to where the Hood lay, the others standing over her in a circle. He peered down at her face. "She's a Kokiri, too," the Shadow Lord murmured.

With a start, the Hood's eyes flung open. "Grandma!" she squealed. "I was just going to Grandma to deliver some scones! But when I got there, she wasn't there! And, my Grandma, what big teeth you have! And what hairy skin!"

"She's babbling," Hawthorne said.

"Wolfos!" Hood went on, oblivious. "Wolfos dressed as Grandma!" Her lips curled and she growled. "They wanted the scones! But they'll never get the scones! Over my dead body!"

"I say, what?" Mr Red said cheerily. "Hell hath no fury like a woman with a scone, that's always been my motto."

Ignoring him, the Shadow Lord crouched. "What's your name, little love?" he said.

Hood shifted her head slightly, her emerald eyes meeting his – then bolted upright, her hand grasping Link's. "Don't let her get me!" she cried, fear pulsing from her voice. Her fingernails bit into Link's hands, splitting the skin. "Don't let her find me!"

The Shadow Lord wrapped his other hand around the girl's trembling fingers. "Don't let who get you, little love?" he said softly. "What's going on here?"

Her grip tightened, her eyes casting a wan light as they widened minutely. "You..." she said, her voice eerily deepening as it began to amplify, as though the threads of a thousand different voices wound their way in and around the others. "Your soul is splintered, fractured."

Link blinked. "What?"

"How could anyone bear what you did?" Pain crossed her face. "A child with a man's task...then a man with a child's mind...then sent back to live a childhood over again. How could anyone endure that and still stay sane?"

The Shadow Lord bristled. "I'm perfectly sane, thanks very much!"

"But she's a balm, I can see. She helps you bring balance, though you have to struggle to find it." Her voice dropped to a whisper, her gaze piercing. "You don't know, do you? He wants her." Sadness flooded her tiny features. "He wants to make her forget you and make her his!"

Confusion creased the Shadow Lord's brow. "Who wants whom? Forget me? What do you mean, love?"

There was a crack of a whip, and then a trundle of hooves and wheels. The little party turned as one to see a carriage, gleaming with polished oak, rattle into the clearing from the dusty path. It stopped with a jolt, the horses shaking their heads and snorting, hooves scuffing the ground. The brass handle turned downward with a click, then the door swung open, a group Kokiri spilling out, at the head of which was –

"Saria, love!" Link cried, grinning as he spied his old friend. "What are you doing here?"

Stepping out of the carriage, Saria gave him the briefest of dismissive glances before her eyes came to rest on Hood. "She'll be coming with us," she said.

"Don't let her get me!" Hood whispered from the ground. No one but Link heard and even he didn't quite understand – except that he was certain that the 'her' the child mentioned here was not the same 'her' that was meant to forget him. He had a sneaking suspicion who that was, and the realisation turned his insides to ice.

Her eyes going from one person to the next, Saria put her hands on her hips. "In fact," she said, "you'll all be coming with us."

A/N: Hel-lo! I doubt any of you value my opinion much, but perhaps I could interest you in checking out Nendil's fics (you'll find her in my 'favourite authors' list); both are beautifully written and sadly underappreciated. Her fics are Destiny's Opus: Finale and Destiny's Opus: Overture, the latter of which I think is the best darn thing in the Zelda section. Leave a review at either or both; 'tis only nice!