Should we leave Magda in the dust? Link passed the offer like a sealed envelope to Navi in their silent heads. It's like Viscena was telling us to go our own way.
"That's not my call, but we don't have any idea where things are. At least gather some intel from her first," the fairy supplicated. Link was plodding to match the woman's tottering.
"It's not too far, Young Sir," Magda said from beside them. "We just go to the west, along the main streets, you'll hear the traders before you see the Square. And if you were to go North, and follow the ornate signs, the Castle is just beyond the houses of the High Nobles."
She couldn't hear us, right?
Navi was silent, but he sensed her teasing.
So maybe.
Even the houses at the top of Farmington were not this large, Link reflected as they were dwarfed by the rows of edifices. And the garb of those around them was even a step above the wealth of the prairie town. There were more layers of finer fabric, ornate belts and buckles and baubles of metal. Link didn't think he could stand to jingle when he walked, promising himself not to giggle at a man with bells tasseled to his own hair. It was a ridiculous fashion to a self-sustaining hunter.
"Aye, tis a beaut of a town," Magda sighed. She was stopped at a tinkling fountain and pool. "This spring flows from the heart of the stone beneath us. We call it Lover's Fountain. All the nobility sets up matches between young lovers and their chaperones here."
Indeed, there were a dozen couples seated, or meandering about the garden surrounding the landmark. And by default, Link studied the array of blooming and trailing plants first. Mostly in red and pink, the geraniums and snapdragons gave the bees and hummingbirds a better target than the gaudy dresses of the ladies, and the overdone outfits of the gentlemen. Tiny whitefaced bacopa spilled over the planter boxes, and Link was pleased to see the extremely yellow pollen clinging to a lady's pale robe sleeves. Almost all Hylians seemed to move about the natural world so carelessly. Pedestrians all but ignored the ubiquitous pigeons and doves that cooed and flocked.
They quit the fountain square when Magda was rested a little. He could almost whistle in harmony with the birds, Link beamed. Without the Elder, Younger or Sterling around, his steps felt freer, tension was melting from his shoulders and spine, and he was looking forward to the Market, curious how different it could be from Caravan Flats. And more, they were out from beneath the pudgy thumbs of the acetic old men! Although, Chudley had always been more than polite...Well, it was better to leave that set of threats behind them.
Ahead of them was a tight thoroughfare, and the current of the crowd distinctly pushed them through the natural gates into an open-air square, surrounded by two and three story buildings. For a second, Link knew what it was like for his prey to be herded into a surround trap.
"Welcome, Young Sir, to fair Castle Town's Market proper!" Magda flourished an ancient, gnarly hand at the throng before them. Unlike the transient quality of Caravan Flats, the low stalls, tents, pavilions and carts were there to last, and every last inch of space was grafittied, chipped, weathered and anchored to the smooth, foot-worn stone ground. Link's long ears were inundated with more sounds than he could identify. Flags snapped, and streamers fluttered with the capricious breeze and bells jangled from cords on doors. People shouted, but it was the overall roar of constant conversation that rumbled deafeningly.
Where to start in this cornucopia of hard goods and food? There were so many people, too! Even more tightly packed in the finite space of the spacious Castle Town Square, the heat, stink and excitement of nine hundred hearts was more life than Link had imagined existed. And every one of them was out to make a bargain, either buying or selling. Caravan Flat's slapdash stalls were indeed a pale copy of the Castle Town.
Magda carried a lumpy pouch in her hands, and she gave Link a gummy grin. "Go on, go look at the wares. There be a crowd, but all ye have to do is elbow 'em," She demonstrated with a pointed humerus joint, and a man clutched his kidney, but let her through without a word. "It helps to be old." She chortled. "Nobody likes the elderly making a fuss."
"So how do we get through?" Navi said rather loudly, and Link realized how quickly he adjusted to the noise.
"Yer young, and ye can slip through," Magda shared sagely. Their progress was hardly impeded, the crowd parted easily for a wild-looking youth and a brown robed elder.
The candy stall caught Link's eye first. Tiny orbs of flavored joy, he had a small bag weighed out, and Navi picked up a chip off the counter. He savored honey first. As soon as he sucked the sweet, he saw Saria with a smoke lamp, and imagined nursing bee stings and a handful of honeycomb apiece. He rushed back to Market, pushed the sticky lozenge into his cheek, and went to the next trader.
"Fine spices, perfect flavors, exotic tastes at your front door!" enticed the fat woman with thousands of tiny pots surrounding her and piled precariously on the counter.
"Anything from the east?" Link questioned.
"Hmm, mesquite essence, maple sugar, horsemint, dried or oil of, sage powder, bay leaves, sumac berries, bunkweed, woodruff-"
"I'll take the woodruff."
"That easy, huh? What's special? Making Summer wine?"
"No, but it reminds me of the beech forests in Kokiri."
She goggled at Link. "What're you sayin, you're not the kid from the forest? Bloody banks, it is you! Well, here, it's on the house!"
Link refused the little clay canister. "I can pay."
"Tell ya what, pick three more, and I'll charge you for two!" She held her meaty hand out in bond, and Link smiled and shook her hand. Magda handed her four red rupees, and Link received four tiny pots of powdered woodruff, yarrow, hyssop and horehound.
"Going to be doing some baking on the way to the Castle?" Navi joked to Link alone.
I didn't want to refuse or disappoint her. And she gets bragging rights, now.
"Hey, I'm a sucker for hyssop tea. I'm not complaining."
The jars nested safely in the bag of candy, and Link looked forward to filling his bag with more of the wondrous wealth. The generosity of the spice merchant would not be forgotten.
He passed the next few stalls without stopping, not needing cookware or furniture or badly woven baskets. They may have been nice enough, for the untrained Hylian, but the baskets weren't waterproof, couldn't flex and the bland weaving technique left much to be desired.
They were winding their way around the south eastern corner of Castle Town Square, when a door opened, and an armored mass of muscle stepped in front of him. "Orr! Wotch it!" grumbled the mountain man, a Goron. Plates of beaten steel shelled his stony flesh and vulnerable areas, if there were any on a Goron, and legend had it, there were none.
"Good day!" Navi intoned brightly to the disinterested boulder.
"Doo bride for me," he croaked, lower than the pitch Hylians could hear. All the sounds that the Goron made were stone-on-stone, like pebbles cracking underfoot, if those feet weighed a ton. Each. "Gud-bye." And with more grace, he lumbered away from the shops and towards the north.
Link poked his head through the door, and grinned.
"Honestly, I don't think you need another weapon! You already have a sword, a sling, a spear, a dagger, a shiv...What's next, explosives?"
"Don't tempt me, Navi," Link casually examined a case by the door housing Goron worked metals. "Who knows what Farore lays in my path? Right?"
"...I wouldn't rely on that. Ever. Just be smart. And necessary."
"Of course," he roved between racks of knives, hand-blades, weapons that had no name to him, and staves and spears. Magda stepped in as well, hands on her purse. Link touched the wares intermittently, testing occasionally, but nothing called to him.
"Cindra, yoo hab not greeded de guests," rumbled the rafters.
A shopkeeper of mammoth proportions trundled into view behind the counter littered in orderly rows of knives, berating a cinnamon-colored girl idly cleaning a blade. She flushed darkly with the Goron's scolding.
"Velcome to zee best Veapon Master's Shop in all the North: Gerngnt's Veapons. May I go on break now?" she deadpanned.
Regarding the underwhelming effort, Gerngnt rolled his liquid black eyes but nodded. "Yoo wouldn't have the tongue of haggle, any."
"Better than a gravel gargler," she sneered affectionately, but left through the back.
"I help yoo find, or answer?" the Goron inquired.
"Well, I'm really just browsing, I've already got a sword," Link apologized. "And a few other blades."
"Yoo show? Always interested in other work," Gerngnt rumbled pleasantly.
"My sword is back at the Temple of Time, but I can describe it," he offered.
"Mm."
"Whitby Smith of the Lon Clan told me it's Goron work, an antiquity, just a dagger or small short sword, with a wider tip, wire-wrapped handle and ruby cabochon on the hilt."
"Ah, the Kokiri bargain. Tell in Cor Darrun of wood preserved from trade," the mountain man realized. "A bird carved from living trees, very rare on Death Mountain."
"There's no way you could know that!" Navi doubted, and immediately felt embarrassed. She had no idea how long Goron memories pervaded.
"Was very young when Annkge return with new stories, but still, Leader have the treasure. Glad sword is still use. Other weapon?"
Stunned beyond words, Link again wondered at the serendipity of his quest. Maybe the Goron who traded for the Kokiri sword wasn't before him, but it may as well have been him. And what about the girl with him in this store?
"Uh, here," he unsheathed his antler and obsidian knife.
"Ah, my home stone!" Gerngnt was purring, and Link felt concern he may cut an eyeball with how closely he inspected the handiwork. "I know southern tip, second-eruption obsidian any. Beauty. Worked well, good tecnik, and the facets balance. Mounted strong to hilt, and graining of antler is aligned. Feather and bead nice touch. Honor to the hands." He gave the knife back in hands which dwarfed it, and it was with great respect and reverence to the maker that he handled it. "True, pleasure to see and appreciate."
"Thank you," Link said and replaced his precious piece. "This was the last blade I worked before leaving the forest. I'm glad to know that it does the source stone honor. Sir, may I ask a query of you?"
"Yes. Fair."
"The girl who works here…"
"Cindra is Gerudo. Dyes hair, most notice. Not mess with me!" He jabbed two proud thumbs at his chest. "Young girl, homeless here, try steal. I punish, but she grow like lichen on rock. I protect, and she sell, maintenance. Good heart, bad mouth."
Link would take the forthrightness of the Gorons any day over Hylian riddles, he found himself thinking. The bold and unapologetic manners could border on rude, but it was honest and refreshing.
"Yoo have sword. Yoo need shield?"
"...I'm not sure. I've never used one, except some tree bark, once."
"Give yoo good deal, and if you don't need, sell. Get better deal."
Link could hardly turn him down. "I hope you don't clean out Magda's pouch entirely…"
"It'd be easier to buy the storefront, Young Master!" Magda shambled to the counter. "What're ya buying?"
"Hylian shield, reinforced and enamelled. Light, good for first time. Maybe yoo grow into it." Gerngnt brought a linen wrapped box from behind his counter. "Commission for soldiers, but I know the Goron who makes the steel forms, and persuaded him to let me sell few. Only best clients see, and does not include the Royal Seal. Would make illegal for me to sell if had. You want me to punch mark for identity?"
"Gerngnt, this is too much. I can't-"
Navi intruded. "I think this is haggling. This is the same kind of attitude of the spice merchant. They want us to think we've gotten an incredible deal. Maybe we aren't."
Just when he thought he was learning, there was a deeper, confusing lesson to be divined.
"Please, is honor. I sell for 80, and mark for you special."
Magda wasn't balking at all with the price in the open, but Link still wasn't quite convinced. The woman of the Cloth was probably not familiar with the rates on shields or weapons. Though with his luck, who knew?
"I'll have it sent to the Temple, then," Link agreed. "As for a mark, I don't have a sigil or anything like that. Maybe just a tree or something."
Gerngnt was already in motion, and had a small chisel between his fingers. He unwrapped the shield, a deep field of navy overlaid with a white and yellow Hylian coat of arms: the winged, triple triangle. It was flipped, and the Goron poised his tool above the lower metal rim. With the ease of a calligrapher, he etched a single circle, then first and second concentric crescents nested around the central orb, and encircled it all with a final outer circle.
"Goron symbol for forest, rebirth and challenge. Seem correct."
Link finally breathed out, not realizing he had been holding it, broken out of a trance, and traced the circles. "It's exactly correct, Gerngnt."
In a more open center of the Market, food purveyors were creating incredible smells to drown out all else. Wood smoke, burning oil, meat and glorious yeast breads swirled around Link, and his stomach told him to simply buy one of everything. In a momentous effort of will, he picked one stall at near random, and only because the sticks of meat the patrons bore appealed to the hungry teenager.
"Beef, pork, cucco, venison or mutton?" Asked the singed, oily man who reeked of garlic and blood.
"All of them."
"The works, got it." He yelled the order to his busboy, and again, Magda poured out a handful of rupees in red, green and blue.
He handed Link a rainbow of meat on a skewer drenched in red sauce flecked with green. It was charred, there was little difference between the textures or tastes of the animals butchered, and yet, there was something about eating the bits off a stick surrounded by almost a thousand people that made the overpowering spice of the sauce mask the worst of it, and bring out the best.
"Did you even chew that?" Navi said aloud.
Link merely shared a gaze, contentedly swallowing and saying nothing. He wiped his chin and sucked the last of the grease and spice from the naked stick.
"He's a growing lad, Miss Fairy, he needs more meat on that scrawny frame!" Magda wheezed and sucked down her own purchased meat pasty. They observed the hustle and flow of the people while lunch settled from a miraculously unoccupied bench. The currents of movement were fascinating. Those with purpose hurried past those without aim, following paths of least resistance, eddying and stagnating where the flow was impeded, like the popular eateries, hot sales stalls, and the musicians.
The stage had been erected ages before, and was constantly repaired and moved about the square as needed, and it showed. Floorboards sagged beneath the endless cavalcade of performers, shiny new lamps and ragged, beaten brass light cups were intermixed, and the backdrop itself was a patchwork of velvet and silk. Despite the less-than-pristine condition, it did not effect the street players. After all, musicians could transport the listener in any setting. The whole reason the stage was there was so that anyone with a talent, or none, could play, and have a built-in audience at the busiest sections of Hyrule Castle Town.
Close enough to hear the instrumentalists and singers, Link's keen ear tuned in to the six adults with shiny fiddles, flutes and white-headed drums, and one tambourine. They played consistently, mostly in unison. The piece was a quick, jogging beat with a simple melody on a flute. He clapped at the end when a few others did, if only because the courage it took to perform in this crowd was respectable all on its own.
Bowing and thanking the shoppers, they left the stage with their instruments, and disappeared into the current of people. Link, Magda and Navi mosied over to get a better view of the stage.
The next group was lively, a jumble of a fiddles, a drum that boomed, and an old set of bagpipes that were so detuned that even Link could tell there was something wrong with the scavenged instrument. There were four tattered teenagers playing, all a little older than Link, except for the boy who stood at the forefront to sing over the droning and reeling rhythm he created on the drum.
"In dashing about,
Nobody shunned you,
Do you love me?
And why shouldn't you?
Take my heart, my sorry friend!"
Rising to a doubling pace, the boy jigged a little and belted out the refrain.
"Even though my heart was yours,
You still roved around,
Searching the world for the perfect one.
Now that you're back in my world,
And love you've found,
You're still too blind to catch on!"
The crowd was whooping and clapping along. Link could barely hear the music. The lead singer was the boy from the entrance of Caravan Flats. And the melody he sang was resonating in his skull. They needed to lose the bagpipes, and find a harp…
Suddenly, Saria's ocarina was in his hands, and he was tweeting right along, feeling where the notes should fit. It wasn't the melody, exactly, but somehow, the tune played by the performers seemed derivative, as if it evolved from the movement Link was contributing. Intrigued, the lead singer noticed the new musician, and extended a hand. Pausing to grab it and clamber up to the platform, Link hopped right back into the verse with them.
Shattering the pattern of the Market's flow, the unfamiliar instrument that cut through the roaring ballad stopped passersby in their tracks, and each Hylian in earshot felt the same tingle in the base of their spine. Link swayed with the time signature, fingers fumbling, and yet, finding all the right fingerings for the notes he sought to make. His confidence was soaring, and his muscle memory did not fail him.
With the resolve of the song came a deafening silence, and then thunderous applause.
"Man, you killed it! How did you know that part? And whassis thing? Do you know "Zora's Waltz" or "Darkworld Jazz"-Oh, I know! We should do "Triforce Majeur," just think how awesome that would sound with a, what is that you were playing?" The dusk boy spewed words at the fair child while he waved and basked in the crowd's approval. "Seriously, though, I haven't seen a reaction like this since the Composer Brother's 'Symphony of the Goddesses!'"
Link's head throbbed right where he hit the tree branch during his exodus. It felt like a seamstress was pricking his very brain with a needle. A wave of dizziness assaulted his senses, and faces swam before him.
"Whoa, you look green, and it's not the tunic," he said, concern in his knotted brow, patting the Emisarry's back. "Vinnie, Rizzo, take a hand, help him down before he goes crowd surfing." He addressed the people in the Square:
"Thanks, but I don't think we'll be able to top that number! This has been The Birdmen, and we'll be here all week!"
But now Link was nauseated, the spice from the meat was no longer a pleasant aftertaste, and the heat was forcing sweat down his back in sloppy rivulets. The hands holding his own were slick. They were on the cobbles again. His mouth flooded with saliva, and the slippery feeling at the bottom of his stomach pushed its way up. He grasped for his pouch on his belt, remembering the soothing red potion in its clay bottle.
There was no pouch on his belt.
He slid his hand to the other side of his waist. Perhaps he put it on the opposite side this morning. Unfortunately, there was only his obsidian blade, a small metal paring knife hanging beside it, and a horse-bone shiv in the small of his back, all sheathed in rawhide.
Gone. Gone was the handful of belongings that mattered most to him. They were only possessions, Link thought calmly, registering the list of missing items.
Jerky. Beef and salted pork strips.
The red potion from Gerrick.
A soldier's enrollment tag from Jessel.
The bone brooch from the Dyer Clan.
Rupees from Talon.
At least he was still ahold of Saria's ocarina, but his hands were empty, holding the boys' hands instead!
And then he remembered.
The Stone. The Gift from the Deku Tree. The little moss green partridge egg with the golden fringe.
He vomited.
"What is going on? Are you okay?" Vinnie, a boy with poofy red hair asked.
My pouch is missing. Navi-
"Oh, now you notice! They got me in a net! Bastards, every one of them! Some asshole scooped me right before you went offstage! I tried to make you See-" He heard the emphasis on the word. She relayed her own Vision, which was the inside of a well-woven silk mesh.
So that's why I'm so-Hold on.
Vinnie and Rizzo were holding him very tightly. Too tightly. He was back in his own head, and his stomach stopped roiling now that he knew Navi's presence could be felt and Seen, if not within his own eyesight.
"You need to let go of me."
They obliged. Too easily.
"Where is your friend? And mine?" But he was wasting time. These idiots were only a distraction for one clever street rat.
Rizzo smirked with oily acne. "You think we'll tell you?" Link honed in, and saw the tick of an eye movement. He whirled, and caught a glimpse of the darker one, tearing off immediately.
Like the wolf he would have been, he pursued.
Why is this so bad? Is it because of the Deku Tree's Gift?
"Yes, and if I tell you why, it will only make it worse."
Link knew enough to keep himself from asking, and making it worse on himself, and yet, there was little he could do to prevent the inquiry. "Why would it be so bad?"
"It's a magical rock, of course," Navi supplied. "Do you need to know more yet, or can we just get it back to you?"
You're really rattled, he realized. The Square was behind him, and the more mundane houses of merchants and salesmen closed in to replace of the stalls. This was the back end of the Market Town, and alleys were visible between the brick and wood homes.
"Yeah, but we can make it better! These kids are headed into a hole in the wall, it sounds muffled and close. Link, they're talking about us, and I don't think they know we can communicate! Find a boy named Gerrard, he's the one who has your pouch!"
How-
"I guess thieves are a little more organized than we knew, it was an assignment or something. The one is saying 'The Master Radish wants him back now, not after his set's done.' That singer must have lifted it when they got me."
How can we trust this? What if this is part of the test for them, to fool us?
"It really doesn't sound like they're lying. Now they captured me, and Gerrard has your pouch. They're going to take me to this Master Radish, and apparently, it'll all be easy street for them. I'll continue to give you anything else I hear."
He trusted his friend's judgement.
The side streets and avenues of the residential area of Castle Town were much less densely packed with people, and Link barely caught sight of the retreating figure around a corner. He watched him duck between crates and use the pace of passersby to camoflauge his motion. He was impressed by the craft, but Link was used to the wiliness of predators and the keener-than-keen hearing of grazers. Just let this kid try to outfox him!
Taking a chance, Link hopped a few crates, on his right hand, pulled himself up a pallet and onto a low roof. Sure enough, the boy with the matted hair was below him on the street, and munching a piece of jerky! Flashing hot, Link propelled his feet across terracotta tiles, easily managing a gap over the alley, and waited a few houses in front of the boy. He saw blue eclipsed by the corner of the roof, and Link jumped from the edge, landing lithely and lightly.
The boy had vanished.
Stymied, Link snarled, and sensed motion behind him.
He spun. There, finally, smirking and a hand on his hip was the boy with matted hair, hazel eyes and dusky skin.
"Gerrard?"
"Link."
The boys regarded one another, one a mute, angry force, the other one a smiling, deadly liar.
The fair one spoke first. "Trevor has my companion, and is taking her to Master Radish. You'll be taking me there as well, and returning my pouch, and all of the contents."
Gerrard was nodding appreciatively. "You work quickly. That's impressive, for the first time in the city. You can't have a network, so it must have been some incredibly lucky hearsay. And I hear everything that happens in my city."
"You were watching me from the entrance."
"Oh, yeah," he admitted, and Link scowled even deeper. "I was a little bold, but the moment felt right, you know? Gotta go with your gut. And then I watched you stand down the Hierarchy, get a new chaperone, buy spices and eat a works skewer. And then, imagine my joy when you joined me for a jam session!" He rubbed his hands together as if he were savoring a feast. "It was too easy to get your fairy when you went all trance-y with the song. You really didn't have a chance."
Link felt the Calm buffering against Gerrard's insults. "If you don't take me to Navi, I will kill you where you stand."
Gerrard smiled widely. "With what? Your sword's at the nunnery. And if you kill me, you'll have no leads. Trevor, Rizzo, Vinnie, they're smart enough to lay low."
"I don't care. I will spend my life searching for her if I have to. I have hunted a lion, I wear the skins of the bear and the wolf, and I am the Chosen of Farore," Link pressed on, deliberate and adamant. "If you don't take me to the Cistern and Master Radish in the next five minutes, I will kill you with my bare hands."
Gerrard wasn't smiling anymore. "You know more than I thought. I don't care what you've worn or what animal you shagged in the forest, and as far as I'm concerned, Farore's as powerful as a fart, so I really don't have any reason to-"
Link moved faster than he ever had, and his hands were twisted in Gerrard's tunic and jacked him against the wall of the house, knocking the wind from him with an audible "Oof!"
"Now, will you tell me-"
"Psh," Gerrard smiled. "Rookie mistake." He grabbed the antler handle, and plunged the obsidian blade into Link's kidney.
Link threw his head back, silently screaming. He swayed, untangled his hands and slumped to the cobbles.
"I avoided your organs, hopefully, but this oughta slow you down a little," Gerrard said in a mock comforting voice. "Really, it's nothing personal. Just business."
With that, he walked away.
Blood was filling Link's mouth. Funny how the copper liquid nourished as long as it was on the inside, but you once you let it out, that's when things go wrong…His palms were slipping on the bloody pavement.
"Snap out of it, you idiot! Get up! Get help, yell or something! Link, come on, that wound was not as precise as he thinks it was!"
Navi. I want to thank you-
"No, no no no no no no, you are not saying goodbye. This is just a setback. Don't be so dramatic, it's only a stab wound. This isn't how it's supposed to be!"
We don't get much of a choice, do we? I didn't even tell Magda where I was going...
"Of course we get a choice! Now, get the hell up and find some new Goddess-damned red potion! Didn't you survive the Frostbite Winter when you were nine? Is this really worse?"
He's destroying my life.
"So get up and destroy his!"
This was going to be the worst bodily test yet, Link grimaced and gasped as he wiggled. He swallowed another mouthful of blood and steeled his nerves against the onslaught of movement. Link yelled and panted as he forced himself to his knees.
"Hey, kid, what's going on? You need help?" Came the stranger's voice. "Someone, go find a healer! Nayru, look at this...Kid? Hey, stay with me!"
Link's vision was swimming in red. The stones beneath him were wet and red. Why was it so bright? So much blood, he swooned. He was used to seeing the blood of grazers or his quarry, but this was HIS blood. It didn't belong out there on the stones...There was a seven-inch long piece of obsidian surgically ripping into his muscles, and his organs were next if he moved in the wrong direction. He knew just how sharp the edges were, and how precise the volcanic glass's flakes fractured. "Damn it…" He reached to the left side of his body, feeling the handle of the knife protruding from his skin. Carefully, he pinched the blood-slick antler, and tugged, gritting his teeth and crying out.
"Stop that, you'll kill yourself!" said another stranger and his hand was batted away from the wound. "I'm trained, not to worry! Now, you sir, and you two, help me turn him."
Two burly men in the vicinity rushed to Link, and with little effort, flipped the bloody boy to his left side, and slid a balled up cloak beneath his shoulder.
"Hold his arms and legs for just a moment while I remove this."
Link didn't fight, but when the healer's volunteers held him as instructed, and the awful, backwards, searing pain came again, he wailed in full, rasping scream, spasming on the cobbles.
"Easy, easy! Now, we have to get you to a hospital, and you need to rest-"
"No! I...I have to find my friend! She's been captured!"
"The fairy? Who would take her?" the medic pondered as he packed several handkerchiefs against Link's ribs.
"Thieves, had us marked...or something," Link was still panting, finding it hard to ignore the gaping hole and the sweaty cloths, glad for the lack of knife, at least.
"Ah, the Shadows," the healer spat. "Good for nothing, they think they run the Market, charging protection fees, and the dirty scavengers, why it if it were up to me-" But instead of finishing the sentiment, he tipped Link's head back and gave him a dose of something out of a glass bottle. It tasted distinctly blue, and utterly savory, but not bitter.
"Do you know where to find them? I've heard something about a Cistern." He felt blood and energy concentrating in his abdomen. He was finding relief at last. The healer's hands were glowing pale yellow, and so was Link's wound. He focused on the feeling of the knitting flesh, the capillaries and tissues reuniting, and he poured a little of his heart-flame into the flow of light.
"Ah! What was that! Can you heal as well? Hmm. Good news is, with a little rest, you'll be good as new in just a few hours-"
"No, I've got to go now," He pictured the wound as whole, and when he felt the skin, the smear of blood remained, but no gaping hole. He promised himself to learn how to do that on his own soon, but he needed to go to Navi, and find Gerrard and the Stone. "Please."
"I'll have guards here in minutes, son, and they'll help you sort it out," the beefy man who released his limbs offered. "If Mahog says to get rest, then that's what you'll do."
"Then send them to the Cistern! THAT is what I'll be doing." Blood-stained, he stared down Mahog.
The healer held out the rest of the blue potion in the glass bottle, and the knife itself.
"Then use this when you feel faint. I can't promise it will be a miracle, but at least it'll restore some of the blood you've lost."
"Thank you, but I don't want my hands full right now," Link apologized. He took the knife, however, and slid it into his sheath.
He studied the boy. "Your flesh will be weak. Don't overdo it, but the Cistern is four blocks to the west, just on the outskirts of the row houses. It's a big stone cylinder, been "Off Limits" for years. Guess we know why, now...Good luck, young man."
"Thank you."
His flesh would hold as long as he didn't do anything crazy. Heh. At least change happened quickly. Look at the twists his trail took him around since this morning…
"I think that was unwise," Ferrin told the helaer.
"He would have been out of our sight in a blink of an eye," Mahog observed. "Send the soldiers."
"They're on the way already," said a young man jogging for them. "Master, the crone from the Temple reported the boy and fairy disappeared after he got sick."
"Thank you, Collin, but we should still tell them where he is going. Would you mind? The fairy and her captors are at the Cistern."
The boy brightened. "Of course, Master! I'll go right away!" He turned to retrace his quick steps.
"Link," Navi's troubled thought intruded. "It's...It's so bad here."
Why? Are the thieves perverts or something?
"I don't know what we're in the middle of, but another group of people just came tearing in. Link...Everyone here is dead. Except Master Radish. I'm not sure how he's still breathing, but I can see his chest moving."
Dead? The kids?
"Yeah."
Gerrard?
"I don't think so. I escaped the net just as the other people, wearing all black, charged in, and I hid in a crack. As soon as they were done, they disappeared. No one else knows I'm here."
I'll be there soon.
Just beyond a dilapidated section of low barrack-like houses rose a jagged topped cylinder of tightly fit cobblestone. Sure enough, very official-looking banners of blue and gold had been hung, and Link could read clearly enough to see: "To Any...Must Keep A Distance of 100 Yards...Under Penalty of Imprisonment…"
If only the ones inside had been so lucky.
He found the 'secret entrance' easily enough, hidden behind a thick bramble screen, passing through unscathed. It was cool and humid immediately in the low tunnel. A gentle slope to the right, and a few steps downward led him between two curving walls. There was a shabby wooden door a few feet after the last step leveled out. Link twisted the knob and had to hold on to the door frame before he collapsed.
Throats slashed, or garroted in a few cases, if the popping eyes and purple skin was any indication, and the adrenaline still hung in the air like stale sweat. Gerrard stood in the middle of it all, beyond shocked and unmoving. He turned to look at Link, but the crimson-splashed, green spectre was hardly any more upsetting than his dead siblings around them. There was even blood spattered on the trestles and bunks on the curving walls.
Navi rushed down, and curled herself over Link's heart. He cupped his hands over her.
"Never again."
"I hope not." Navi replied, and sobbed. Link closed his eyes and shut out the images of Laria Brewer and Hido Spearmaker and the other Children torn apart. Guilt stung his soul. They were all living in the forest. These boys and girls, their journey was abruptly ended.
There was a sputtering noise, and Gerrard hurried to his Master's side. "You're still alive! Master Radish, why did this happen?"
"Uk...Did you...get the...emerald?"
"Yes."
"Then...take-take it...uk...to…"
"To who?" Gerrard pleaded, cradling Radish's bloody head.
"To...uk...Zelda…" The way his shredded throat choked on the 'Z' would haunt the trio.
They were his final words, and he gurgled for a few more moments. When Gerrard stood, he and Link locked eyes. Hazel locked with glacial blue. Again, the fair one broke the silence first.
"Soldiers are on the way."
Gerrard clenched and unclenched his fists, brow knitted in the middle. He looked around.
"I can't stay here, then," he said. "Not with you."
"And what's that mean?" Navi demanded sharply.
"Clueless…" He stepped forward, and withdrew his foot as though a hot coal found its way into his shabby shoe. He was about to trod on a friend's cloak.
"I was raised in the forest, and I will never be able to return. My brother's and sister's are ghosts to me, now. All I have is Navi, and that pouch."
"And what do I have!" Gerrard fumed. "What in the underworld do I have?"
"I can take you to the Temple of Time, and they can feed you, and start a new life-"
"Like it's that easy! You know all about it, right? You started anew, and found some holy quest. Well, unlike you, I don't buy all that. And the rock? They called it the 'Kokiri Emerald,' like it was a gemstone. I can't imagine Zelda would want this thing."
"Well, I want it back, and then I'm going back to the Temple of Time until the Royal Family summons me to court." Link said, and Navi rose back into the air, sniffling.
"I can't go with you," Gerrard stated. "Wanted thieves and murderers aren't served at the Tents."
"You've murdered?" Navi said skeptically, then glanced at her partner, remembered he was lucky a healer had been nearby but minutes before this very moment.
"You've seen how it is out here?" he said with, maybe, a little too much bravado, exterior cracking under pressure.
"We know the heaviness of life, as well," Link said enigmatically. "As a hunter. And I grieved for a senseless death on the plains, as well as parents I wasn't aware that I had. And...I can't linger on your family here, or I see my own siblings from Kokiri. But-"
"LOOK AT THEM! LOOK AT EACH OF THEIR FACES, BECAUSE THEIR BLOOD IS ON YOUR HANDS! IF I HADN'T AGREED TO THE MARK ON YOU, THEY WOULD BE ALIVE!" Fingers jabbing and elbows swinging, Gerrard was alive with rage.
Breathless, sick again and his kidney jabbing his spine, Link did as he was charged, and washed his gaze over every body facing him, stepping with utmost care and dignity around the thieves until he had indeed, seen each of the poor souls. He believed the fault lay with Gerrard for accepting the assignment, but he could do this service to the boy. Link finished his memorial round, coming back to a puzzled Gerrard.
"I'm sorry that this change is hard. Of all the storms and disasters, I think people fear change the most. Small, simple, tough changes are the hardest ones. I can't hear trees anymore. I can't track my dinner. I haven't made these garments with my own hands. I hate change, and yet, it is the one constant in life you can count on. I am sorry you have lost a family, too."
Gerrard was crying, his face turned upwards. He gazed into darkness for a few minutes, wiping eyes and nose and Link put a hand on Gerrard's shoulder.
Before he could shrug it away, or react, the door opened once more, and a bevy of men in light armor hut-hutted into the gruesome scene.
"Oy, sorry we took so long! We didn't-" The man who had held down Link gaped. "Mother of the North, what happened? Did ye two…"
"No!" Navi rushed forward. "It was a group of people, all in black, they snuck in through an entrance in the back, and it all happened so fast! It was over before either boy got there."
"And how do we know?" Pried another one. "He looks pretty bloody to me."
"That's the one I helped Ferrin with," said the biggest of the men. "And then Mahog healed him, said the fairy was captured. Was it you, boy?"
"No, I was just scrounging for scrap out here, when I heard screaming. I followed this guy, he heard them too. I didn't know his fairy was part of this," Gerrard covered easily. It was the first time in his life Link witnessed a perfect lie. Neither body nor voice betrayed the untruth, despite the trauma here.
"Aye? And you're not connected to these Shadows or their invisible rivals?" said the second man.
"No sir," Gerrard answered truthfully. "Once, they tried to recruit me, but I changed my ways."
"Well, good for you, son," said the first man, letting it go, and sighing at the scene. "You're expected back at the Temple of Time, Emissary. I'll have Gossier escort you back, if you need."
"Sir, I know the Market better than your soldiers," Gerrard jibed smoothly. "I'll have him there before you could send a homing pigeon."
The corporal shrugged. "Fine, fine…" He wrinkled his nose. "We best get started before these start to go wrong. Dear Nayru, this is a nightmare... " The boys and the fairy left the authorities on the double.
They plodded up the stairs, blinking in the sunlight. Gerrard stopped, and handed Link his pouch back, who reattached it like a missing appendage.
"Are you really changing your ways?" Navi asked in obvious doubt as they walked back towards Temple Way.
"Maybe," Gerrard answered. He seemed to be in deep thought. They were just going through the Silver Dragon Gate which marked the entrance to the Noble's District. "Maybe I do need a change. I've been living on my own, and in the streets for years. What have I become? A thief. A liar. A murderer. But...Why did you cover for me?"
Link regarded him. "Everyone deserves a second chance, or at least the benefit of the doubt. Like I said, we know what loss is. And you upheld your bargain, even if you didn't intend to do so."
Gerrard was blinking hard and sober. "I don't deserve that."
"Oh, don't look a gift cucco in the beak. Keep your nose clean, and that'll be enough," Navi waved him off.
After several more intersections, Gerrard offered: "Are you guys sure you want to go back to the Temple of Time?"
Link stopped to look at Gerrard. "As opposed to what?"
With as casual a look as he could manage, the boy shrugged, and said, "Wouldn't you rather meet Zelda today?"
"Ha, and you know how to get to her?" Navi laughed. She crossed her arms.
"My mom was a nursemaid to the Princess, and I used to go with her. I know a secret passage into the castle."
"No, you don't," Link accused.
"Wanna bet? I can get you into Zelda's personal garden and solarium in a few hours. How long do you want to wait for the officials to play dress up? Besides," he rushed ahead. "Master Radish told me to take the stone to Zelda, not the King, not the Knights or the Sages or the Vassals. How would we even arrange a meeting like that?" Gerrard pantomimed, "Please, sir, instead of the Rightful Ruler of the World, can we have a council with your ten-year old daughter please?"
"She's only ten?" Link hadn't thought about the individual members of the Royal Family much at all. Come to think of it, he was still tacky with ocher.
"Yeah, but they say she's a prodigy, born under the luckiest signs, and is going to grow into the most beautiful woman in Hyrule. Well, that's what my mom said, at least. And I've heard it from others, too," he defended.
"Does your mother still nursemaid for Zelda?" Link asked.
"...No, she died. In a hospital fire."
"I'm sorry."
"Thanks."
The darker boy patted his thighs. He pursed his lips, and finally let out another sigh.
"Another rookie mistake." He was twiddling the Stone between his fingers. "Shoulda looked in the bag." Gerrard took off up Silver Street, heading directly for the Castle.
"Son of a bitch!" Link cursed, and pounded after him again.
A/N: 9/13/2018
This chapter. This was the very first chapter I ever wrote for this story. A boy asked me to make him a character in my story, 17 years ago, and I said, "Okay." So many decisions spiraled from one instance between a Hero and a street urchin. And there is so much city, it's hard not to take a tour like Homestead. I hope this is enough for now, and I may update this chapter if I decide I'm still not happy with it. Again.
