14 – The War of the Fairies
Thirty minutes to go...
"Or maybe not." Excellent Radcliffe stood at the bow of her vessel, one hand on her hip, the other on the ship's wheel, her long hair streaming behind her. The Colour Ship screamed through the air, rocking wildly from port to starboard, her crew scampering around the deck, pulling at the billowing sails, snapping down all the latches and desperately trying to tieevery single loose item down.
Link, clinging on for dear life, put one hand over his brow and stared at the Salvage Hunter. "Maybe not what, love?"
Excellent pointed. Up ahead, set into a moss covered rocky wall, a wedge of bright light grew steadily larger and larger as the ship bore down on it. "Maybe I won't just drop you off at the exit," she said. "Maybe I'll take you straight through, it'll mean a speedy journey for you."
The Shadow Lord, no longer caring why the occasional rhyme was so important to these people,glanced down at the time crystal, squinting as the howling wind whipped his hair into his eyes. There were just ten plus one score minutes left before he'd lose Zelda forever. His hand tightened around the crystal. Outwardly, he was the same calm, confident head of a small town he'd always been. Inwardly, the tendrils of true fear drummed against his heart.
"That would be appreciated, love," he called, looking up. "But isn't that opening up there a little small for your motley ship?"
"Don't worry about that," Excellent called back. She flicked him a bemused glance. "The Guardian of the Temple...he looked just like you. When I first met you, I thought you were him."
"I'd love to explain it all, love," Link replied. "But to be honest, I find the whole thing tedious. Let's just say that I don't lead the most normal of lives."
"I can see that," she replied. "Risking all for the woman you love? I didn't think men indulged in that kind of venture. At least, not anymore."
Link grinned. "That's the thing, isn't it, love?" he replied. "Men just don't know how to be men nowadays."
"Oh no?" Excellent quickly added. "You cut through here destroying all in your path just for one thing that you wanted." A sour smile touched her lips. "I'd say that that was pretty atypical."
The Shadow Lord winced. "And I've apologised already. I'll find another portrait for you – exactly the same."
"If you do that," she said. "If you manage to show that little bit of honour, then I'll consider you a real man."
"I promise, love," Link replied, his voice level. "I promise."
Excellent held his gaze for a moment, studying the earnest almost strangely innocent expression on his face. She turned away. "We'll see."
"Hey!" It was Simon, his arms waving frantically as General Tedious made a living barrier between the young man and the Salvage Hunter captain. He tried to surge forward; the good General shoved him back each time. "I'm a real man! Just try me!"
Excellent closed her eyes, her head shaking minutely.
Simon seethed in frustration. "Look-" he flinched as General Tedious coughed in his face "- if you don't give me a chance...I'll...I'll...I'll throw myself overboard!"
Leaning back so that she could confer with the Shadow Lord in relative privacy, Excellent whispered, "Is he always like this?"
"What," said Link, "you mean is he always desperate for death regardless of the fact of whether he's deliriously happy or utterly despondent?"
"Yes."
"I'm afraid so, love."
"Nothing can be done for him?"
"You could always relent to his demands and fall hopelessly in love with him."
Excellent chewed on the inside of her cheek in thought. "How about we just kill him?"
"So long as," Simon called, their words finally carrying over to him, "I die by your hands, I will die a happy and content man." He struggled as Tedious pushed him back yet again. "A real man, too, I hasten to add."
Excellent sighed. Her eyes, unfazed by the way her ship changed from cherry red to bruised purple to a spurt of yellow, swept across the deck. She saw the Fairy Queen tied to the mast, Navi and Hawthorne whizzing around her brandishing a featherthat they used, she assumed, to inflict some sort of strange torture that only Fairies would understand. Sitting quietly on the deck, an eye of calm in the hurricane of frantic movement around him, there sat a smiling Mr Red. What he found so amusing Excellent couldn't possibly guess.
She tapped the immense wheel in front of her. A small compartment opened, revealing a grease-stained lever. Glancing up, she saw the opening to the outside world grow wider and wider as they neared at breakneck speed. "All hands!" she cried, grasping the lever. "Prepare for contraction!"
The Shadow Lord blinked. "Contraction?"
Excellent grinned as she pulled the lever. "Contraction!"
Link gasped as all the air left his lungs. Reality began to thin – literally – the ship shrinking to the shape of an arrow, then a hair, then as slender as the finest edge of a scroll. Link felt himself become compressed, felt every atom in his body dwindle to nothing more than a pinprick. Falling to the ground, his heart boomed in his ears, the world around him a blur that roared and raged against the thin thread of his existence. He heard something snap. He heard something go ping. He felt something heavy fall into his lap.
The ship burst out into the gleaming Killyjanmaro sky, soared through a wispy cloud, then swooped down, curving in towards the land as, slowly, it began to began to expand, regaining its regular, more fuller appearance. Excellent, her whole body tingling from the experience, let out a long long breath, looked up – and shrieked as the hissing dark shape of a Mountbasten dragon screamed in on a collision course for her ship.
Fear made her freeze for a heartbeat then, her senses coming back in a flash, she slapped the wheel, sending it into a wild spin. The ship lurched as it banked sharply to the left, the crew screaming as they slid uncontrollably across the deck. Ropes snapped like twigs and lanterns cracked in two. Excellent grabbed onto the wheel as the dragon flew harmlessly overhead, then pulled her ship upright, sweat breaking across her brow from the wash of searing heat radiating from the reptillian beast.
Link sat, dazed, desperately trying to still the hammering of his heart. Something heavy was still in his lap. He looked down at it.
"Sorry!" the thing in his lap said. "It's just my head! It's just popped off, that's all!"
With a snarl the Shadow Lord sent the ReDead's head rolling across the deck. Satisfied that he wasn't permanently damaged from that little jaunt, he jumped to his feet. The wind in his face, Link clawed his way up to where Excellent stood by the wheel, and then peered over the edge of the bow. Squinting, Link saw the fields and trees spin beneath him. Killyjanmaro merged into the familiar swaying tree-tops of Kokiri Forest. Lips pursed, the Shadow Lord searched and searched and…
"There!" he cried, pointing. "Put us down there, love!"
Everyone bar Excellent screamed as the ship plummeted to the ground in a spiralling dive, their stomachs rising swiftly as a result. The Colour Ship tore into the earth, a tidal wave of mud and soil churning up in its wake. Link felt his teeth chatter as the ship began to slow, shuddering and creaking all the while. The sharp grassy scent of fresh earth assaulted him, dead branches and dried leaves scratching at his face. With one final lurch, the ship juddered to a halt. Link wiped a clod of mud from his face and glared up at Excellent. The Salvage Hunter, both hands on her lips, stood wearing an expression of pure self-satisfaction. "Well!" she said cheerily. "I got you here, didn't I?"
Seventeen minutes to go…The Leader of the Righteous Keepers of the Flame looked at the newcomers with a sour look on his face. A plank of wood, only moments ago an integral part of the hut that was his home, dropped onto his head. "Did you have to land your monstrosity of a ship exactly on the spot where we Brothers lived?"
"It wasn't intentional, mate," Link said, irritated by all the distractions. He had to get these Fairies to Zelda. He only hoped that whatever was in the treasure chest would be enough to unite the two factions. "Honest."
The Leader regarded him coolly. All around him, armed to the teeth and twitching in anticipation, his Brothers trained their bows on the Service Fairies – equally ready for a fight – standing across the glade, the immense bulk of the strange multicoloured ship towering above them. "It's just," he went on, "I had a soft spot for the place."
"Sorry," the woman named Excellent said, looking sheepish.
"I even had special curtains made…lovely ones, with lace."
Hawthorne rolled her eyes. "They said they were sorry, didn't they?"
"With embroidered flowers…you know how hard it is to get those done?"
One of the Brothers stepped forward. "Yellow flowers weren't they, boss?"
"Yes!" the Leader cried. "You're familiar with them?"
The Brother sniffed, tears brimming in his eyes. "I thought they were really lovely myself."
"I know!"
Hawthorne noisily cleared her throat.
"And," the Brother went on, "the lovely little petals they made with the white silk. Enough to bring a grown man to his knees."
The Leader gazed into the distance. "Poetry in stitches."
Hawthorne threw a rock at the Leader's head. He blinked, startled, then quickly composed himself.
Link stood, his eyes thinning as, suddenly, the temperature dropped. "I do not have the time for this, mate."
The Leader glared, the muscles in his cheek twitching. "The Treasure," he said at last, licking his lips. "You have it?"
Hawthorne plucked it from the Shadow Lord's belt, then placed it on the ground between the two groups of Fairies. "It's here, no doubt."
There was a moment's silence as the Fairies gazed at the tiny wooden box in awe. Some had tears in their eyes. Some stood, blank-faced. Others rubbed oil on their weapons, casting wary glances at their opponents. The Leader, his heart trembling, reached out for the lock –
And found his path barred as Hawthorne snapped her own hand around his wrist. He glanced up to meet her pointed glare. "I think," she said, "it would be better, no doubt, if someone a little more neutral opened the chest." She gestured at Link.
The Leader, seeing all eyes upon him, forced himself to smile. "So be it."
"Oh, I'm honoured, mates," the Shadow Lord said, crouching as he gently picked the chest up with two fingers. "I'm sure there's some blindingly beautiful jewel upon which is written the sage words you all seek. Maybe a tiny goblet of pure gold, or a silver medallion. I'm sure-" he flicked the chest open and froze, open-mouthed. He pulled the Treasure out. "You went to war over a piece of cloth?" he gaped. "You killed, slaughtered and maimed just for a shred of fabric?"
"Wars have been fought for less, I assure you," the Leader snapped, feeling suddenly defensive. "Besides, it's the symbolism, what the cloth stands for, not the actual-" His words died in his throat as the Shadow Lord, his eyes still narrowed, pierced him with a withering look. The Leader glared back, uncomfortable but defiant. "Read it, then."
The Shadow Lord brought the tiny piece of cloth close to his eyes. "'Here is written the single precept by which the Ancient Order of the Fairies have declared that all their descendents should live by.'" Link cleared his throat. The Fairies leaned in close, their eyes wide. "'It is hereby decreed that the race of Faerie are no ordinary race-'" The Leader's eyes gleamed at this "'- and, in fact, it would not be too presumptuous to say that Fairies, amongst all the creatures of Hyrule, have been singled out for a Higher Purpose, a Greater Ideal-'"
"Ha!" the Leader crowed, beaming. "Exactly as I suspected. We, the Fairies, should rule Hyrule." He rubbed his hands. "Now, to begin with the preparations-"
"Let him finish," Hawthorne cut in, her voice icy. "Let him read the rest."
"Thanks, love," the Shadow Lord said, winking. "Now, as I was saying." He began to read again. "'…Fairies, amongst all the creatures of Hyrule, have been singled out for a Higher Purpose, a Greater Ideal – and that Ideal is, simply, to help and to serve.'" The Service Fairies exploded into whooping cheers. The Leader, stunned,slumped to the ground, ashen-faced. "That's it," Link added, smiling. A frown creased his face. "That's it?" The Shadow Lord shook his head. "If that's all it takes for you to go to war, it's a wonder you haven't wiped each other out already." He began muttering under his breath. "Probably start killing each other over whose turn it is to walk the dog or something."
"Wait!" the Leader cried, desperate to make himself heard over the celebrations. "Isn't there anymore? Check, man, be thorough."
Link, himself desperate to get to Castleton, took one last glance at the Treasure. His eyebrows arched.
"What is it?" the Leader gasped, springing back to his feet and craning forward.
"I missed a bit."
"Yes?"
"It says here…"
"Yes?"
"You're not going to like it, mate."
"Tell me!"
Link sighed. "'Please take good care of our Fido. He's a rather precocious little dog, but he does like his little walks, though not in bright light. Please don't feed him after midnight. And don't let him get wet.'"
The Leader sank to his knees in despair. All around him, the Brothers of the Eternal Flame snapped their bows in two.
"Now," the Shadow Lord went on. "I believe we have an accord…?"
"No," the Leader growled, his face downcast.
"Excuse me?"
"I said 'no.'"
There was a flutter of wings and the sound of a bowstring snapped taut. The Leader looked up, his mouth dropping open in shock. Mr C faced him, the Love Fairy's arrow trained on the Leader's chest. "Et tu, Cupid?"
"Quit whining, fool," Mr C said. "Get your sorry self together, sucka. We're going to help – all of us."
Link sprang to his feet and snapped his fingers. "To Castleton!"
Six minutes to go…"Six minutes, Milady," Tingle said, smiling sadly. Ruto sat at Zelda's bedside in the hushed chamber, her features pinched. Tingle touched her hand. "I'm sure he tried."
"I know." Ruto managed a smile. They were going to lose, she realised, anguish stabbing at her heart. For the first time they were going to lose. The scent of cloves and aloe clung to the air - to the Zora it suddenly became the scent of death.
The silence broke as, with the realisation that all was lost, some of the parents began to weep gazed down at the Princess' gaunt face, watching as the life slowly drained out, as though Zelda was slowly metamorphising into an ice-cold marble statue. The thought brought hot tears to the Zora's eyes.
A pitcher of water stood on the table beside the Princess' bed, stroked by the flickering flame of a slowly melting candle.Watching the liquid intently, Ruto noticed circular ripples begin to radiate out from the centre. Slowly at first, but growing steadily louder as the Zora sat there transfixed, a deep rumble began to wash through the air. Ruto looked up at the immense oval window set in one side of the room; the size of two large huts it was the only source of sunlight in the chamber. And it was steadily becoming darker.
An eclipse? she mused. Surely not.
Others began to glance up now, the whole chamber shaking. The window frames trembled. Pictures fell off walls. Glass shattered. Someone screamed. Ruto's mouth went dry as she stared at the window – a dark blur was approaching, looming larger and larger.
"Eep!" she squeaked.
The window exploded into a million sparkling fragments. Ruto, her head ringing from the din, shrank back in her chair as a streamlined arrowhead of pure colour – first sherbet pink, then burning angry scarlet, then plunging into pure black – ploughed into the chamber. The iron pillars that made up the foundations of the castle screamed in protest, rent in two and dragged across the floor.
Ruto stared at the strange multi-coloured thing now sitting in the centre of the chamber. She looked left. She looked right. She stared up at it again. Shafts of fractured sunlight framed the shimmering thing -it was then that she realised that it was actually shaped like a ship -in the gaping hole that once was the window. Masonry fell from the ceiling and, hitting the floor, disintegrated into fine powder.
Silence fell. Ruto tore her eyes away from the ship to search out Tingle's familiar face. She found him, and he gestured, signalling that no-one had been hurt. Slowly nodding, her mouth still hanging open, the Zora turned back to the strange apparition once more.
A familiar voice echoed out. "Does no-one on this accursed ship know how to steer the bloody thing?"
Ruto grinned. "Link!"
His cloak trailing behind him, the Shadow Lord leapt from the multi-colouredship and landed on the floor in a crouch. His face blank, he walked slowly up to Zelda's bed and gazed down, his eyes shining. "How is she?"
"Still the same," Ruto replied. A molten glow of hope rose in her heart. "Do you have the cure?"
Link gazed up. "Gentlemen, ladies," he called. "Time to go to work."
One-by-one, filling every space in the chamber, tiny lights began to wink into life as the Fairies made their entrance. The parents of Castleton shrank back, huddling protectively around their respective offspring.
The lights began to congeal, growing brighter and brighter, curling ribbons of different incandescent colours – lime, cherry, orange – sparked around the room, coiling around the children and the Princess, covering themfrom head to foot. A red glow blossomed here, a green spark plumed there – very soon the whole room was completely engulfed in pure, undiluted light.
Confused shrieks rang around Ruto's ears as she shielded her eyes. People were looking around in fright, desperately trying to find something to hide themselves from the brilliant glow. The only person who appeared unfazed was the Shadow Lord of Castleton himself. He stood, as still as a statue, and fixed the Princess with an intense stare. His eyes shone - whether from hope, concern or a combination of the two, the Zora couldn't tell.
The light faded, the chamber filled now with dark, dismal shadows. Ruto, blinking to rid herself from the blots etched onto her eyes, stoop and and steppedover to the Princess bed. She gazed down, rested one palm against Zelda's still-sleeping face. She felt all eyes burning into her - it was as though the whole world was holding its breath. Her throat tightened, her mouth sagging. "It didn't work," she said, her voice tiny and forlorn.
Wails of anguish cut through the air like a burning arrow through clarfied butter. The parents of Castleton fell upon their children in tears, chest heaving, bodies shuddering. Link continued to stare at the Princess, his face blank. Slowly he stepped up to her side. He stood there for a moment as Navi and the others slowly disembarked from the ship.
Leaning down, the Shadow Lord kissed the Princess gently on the mouth. Her lips were ice-cold, he realised, her face stiff. The warmth of his wife had dissipated, lost in the beyond like a feather caught in the wind and tugged away on the breeze. Still silent, the Shadow Lord of Castleton set his prized hat down upon his beloved's face.
Navi's tiny fingers gripped Link's shoulder. He looked up, saw the tears streaming from her reddened eyes. "Sometimes…" she sniffed. "Sometimes you just have to let go."
"Not if you trust," he replied automatically. There was no hint of emotion in his voice. "Not if you trust."
Link turned away. The chamber was dark, unnaturally so, the shadows stretched as though grinning. Laughing. They were laughing at him. Finally, he'd been outwitted. Finally, his luck had run out. Row upon row of anguished faces greeted him. His head began to spin, his legs growing weak. He closed his eyes to shut it all out
"Why," a new voice croaked, weak and faint, "pray may I ask, is there a sillly green hat on my face?"
Link swivelled around, almost jumping. "Love!" he cried, falling to his knees besides Zelda's bed. "You're alive! You were lying there and I thought you were dead and we'd all failed and I was being laughed at, but you're alive! Alive!"
"Yes, I am," she replied. "Now could you please get this hat off of me? The smell is atrocious."
The Shadow Lord grinned, swiping the hat back into his grasp. The Princess, her face frail, looked up at him with dull eyes and smiled. She opened her mouth to speak again, but Link stilled her by quickly placing a finger on her lips.
The realisation that all was well ran through the chamber like a rush of water released from a dam. As palpable relief swept everyone up into a confused mess of delayed apologies, heartfelt thanks and spontaneous proclamations of unexpressed love, the Shadow Lord and Shadow Lady remained an island of restrained calm, hand in hand, smiling at each other. They didn't speak. They didn't cry. They didn't fall apart. They already knew, knew each other inside and out. They didn't have to say anything.
Anything at all.