Author's Note: And we're back! Right at the six-week mark too, like I'd been hoping. I've still got some edits to wrap up, but this arc's a big one- almost 50k across six chapters, more than I was actually planning when I got started.

Mild content warning for this chapter, and the rest of the arc: there's some incidental misgendering of Ganondorf, when he interacts with Hylians. None of it is aggressive, just ignorant, but I feel it does earn a warning.

"So, just how much of our daylight are you planning to spend on this?" Zelda asked, crossing her arms over her chest.

Dragmire didn't even bother to look up at her, much less respond to her question, and Zelda resisted the urge to poke him in the ribs with her boot.

He'd been missing when the first temple bell had woken her and Link that morning, and she'd searched all over the cliffside Gerudo town of Koukot before she finally located him here, perched on the edge of one of the cliffs, carding through a length of rope. When she'd asked him, nearly half an hour earlier, he'd explained it was from the cable system the people of Koukot used to travel up and down the cliffs, and that one of the vai had asked him to repair the spell woven into it that allowed it to carry electricity. From what she'd managed to get out of him— he was largely taciturn in concentration— the cable had been snapped during a thunderstorm, and while the material damage to the rope and the thin wires braided into it had been repaired, the spell required a mage with more delicacy than the ones who lived there possessed.

Which, apparently, meant him. Nevermind that they had other tasks ahead of them.

"Are you even listening?" Zelda asked, circling around to the other side of him. "Link and Konora went to get the horses already, we can't wait forever."

"I'm trying not to listen, thank you," Dragmire said evenly. His eyes were closed, eyelashes painting red shadows over his cheeks in the morning sunlight. "We have plenty of time, Zelda. The first bell just rang."

Zelda sat down beside him, watching his face intently. She was certain he felt her stare, but his face was impassive as a stone wall. His thick braid twitched as another frisson of static electricity rolled down its length, little flickers of lightning dancing between his fingers as he ran the rope through his hands.

"The first temple bell rang almost an hour ago," she said when he stayed quiet. "We need to go, soon . It's an eight hour ride from here to Aquame Stable."

"You've said so already," he said. "And a twelve-hour ride from there to Tanagar Canyon tomorrow, and another eight hours north to Totori Village from there. We can afford another five minutes or so while I finish this working."

"I don't see why you need to do it," Zelda said. "If Lady Sabura can requisition stoneworkers from the crown, she could have requisitioned someone to repair the cable."

Talking about their host like that didn't sit well with her— Lady Sabura, the leader of the Vatorsa, the tribe that governed Koukot and controlled the desert gateway, had been nothing but welcoming when they'd arrived the evening before— but neither did sitting idle with the long ride ahead of them. Surely Link would have the horses ready by now; he wouldn't want to wait very long either .

Dragmire's eyes opened, and Zelda stifled a gasp. His eyes glowed— flickers of emerald lightning played across his irises, and his pupils were full of light. Some part of her wondered if he could even see her like this, or what he saw instead, if his vision was anything like hers when she saw through the eyes of the Goddess. He closed his eyes again, but his hands paused a moment on the rope.

"And why shouldn't it be me?" he asked. "I'm here, and I can do the work. Therefore, the task falls to me."

"Even if we weren't on a very important mission right now, why would it be your task? You're the King, maintenance tasks like this should be beneath your notice," Zelda said.

"The chieftain bears the burdens of her people upon her shoulders," Dragmire answered. His hands began moving again, and Zelda noted with relief that he only had a few arm-spans' worth of rope left to go. "Why should a King bear the burden any differently?"

Zelda frowned. "...Somehow, I cannot imagine my father performing menial labor because...oh, I don't know, a bridge somewhere broke in a flood."

"Well then, I suppose you see the difference between a Gerudo chieftain and a Hylian king," Dragmire said. He paused, his head tilting, then said, "Would your mother have performed such necessary tasks for her people? Your bloodline holds magic as mine does— were there not certain tasks that fell to her, and should fall to you in turn?"

Zelda scowled at him. Her mother hadn't— well, there had been an occasion or two, when she'd been a little girl, when her mother had left the castle to handle some task only a Daughter of Hylia could perform— but her grandmother , according to her mother's stories, had walked the land in service to her people. Her grandmother's extensive notes and journals had corroborated it; when her power had returned she and her Champion had set out across Hyrule, banishing pools of Malice and purifying the remnants of it from the active Guardians as they'd knit the country back together from its shattered remnants. The corner of Dragmire's mouth twitched upward, almost a smirk at her lack of answer, and she narrowed her eyes further.

"Not anymore," she said, trying for haughty. "And I certainly don't envy you the ones that fall to you."

Dragmire hummed in response, but didn't answer. He'd reached the end of the rope, and as she watched a crackle of lightning leapt from his hands and into it— and down the length of it, static jumping from coil to coil before snapping off the end, nearly shocking her. He nodded, then coiled the rope back into itself and stood, dusting off his sirwal.

His eyes, when he opened them, had returned to normal.

He offered her his hand, and Zelda scowled at him but took it, letting him pull her to her feet.

"I'm surprised you didn't take off without me, if you're so impatient to get going," he said.

"It's not like we could leave without you," Zelda said. "Why go down to the bottom of the canyon, where there isn't any sunlight, and wait for you in the cold, when I could wait up here?"

"And you chose my company over poor Link's, then?" Dragmire retorted, flashing her a grin.

Zelda smacked him in the arm. "I didn't say that and you know it."

Dragmire just laughed at that one, and sprang back out of range when she went to hit him again, turning tail and bolting off along the cliff's edge towards one of the cable hoists. Zelda growled and sprinted after him, scrambling over the rough stone towards the wooden platform. His heavy boots clattered on the wood, and he leapt adroitly over the waist-high railing and out onto the lift itself, which swayed alarmingly under his weight. Zelda balked at the edge, eyeing it and him and waiting to time her own leap.

While it wasn't quite the same as some of the lifts in old Sheikah buildings, which seemed powered by the natural energy of the shrine or temple, the lifts employed by the Gerudo of Koukot were an impressive piece of magical engineering, especially given most of the material involved was ordinary, non-magical wood and rope. They'd rigged block-and-tackle systems to run off electricity stored in topaz and channeled through wire-laced rope cables, all of which was kept powered by the few lightning-mages who lived there year-round.

The concept had been explained to her the previous evening by Konora— Lady Sabura's vivacious daughter and Dragmire's fellow mage— over a steaming mug of Tabantha black tea sweetened with East Mesa honey. They were Konora's passion project, a work of collaboration between her and a number of engineers, some Gerudo, some members of the Sheikah expatriate community that had taken up residence in Koukot.

The lift swung back towards the cliff face again, and Zelda leapt. Her boots connected with the lowermost rail, her hips slamming into the uppermost one, and the lift lurched again alarmingly. Zelda caught hold of the uppermost rail with both hands, doubling over to cling to it— and a hand grabbed her unceremoniously by the belt and hauled her the rest of the way over into the lift.

When she looked up, it was to meet Dragmire's piercing gaze as he scowled at her. " Really ?" he asked. "I was going to stop it swinging so you could get on, you didn't have to do that."

"Too late," Zelda said, rolling her eyes.

Dragmire scoffed under his breath, but reached up rather than deigning to answer her, taking hold of one of the cables overhead. She caught a hint of ozone on the air. The lift lurched abruptly— and then again as the counterweight engaged, lowering them gently down the cliff face. Zelda shivered a little as the sun dropped behind the far wall, and wished she hadn't left her cloak with Link when she'd headed off to find Dragmire earlier.

She grabbed the railing again and peered over the edge to distract herself, watching the red earth of the canyon floor rise beneath them. A small cluster of people already gathered near the entrance to the stable complex, small as ants from their height, and Zelda scanned them for a sign of Link. He should have been waiting for them by now— half an hour was plenty of time to retrieve their horses— but she couldn't see him anywhere in the knot of people near the entrance.

The basket touched down with a bump, and Zelda climbed out over the edge before Dragmire could, darting towards the stable entrance. Link would still be in there— and wouldn't it be typical of him to have gotten distracted talking with someone?

"Zelda!" a voice called— from behind her. Link's voice.

She spun on her heel to face him, and sure enough— he'd emerged from one of the other stable entrances, the reins of a horse in each hand. His chestnut mare, Epona, nosed at his shoulder; Zelda doubted she even needed to be led , but that Link kept hold of her reins out of politeness. Her grey gelding, Mutoh, certainly needed it— he tossed his head, jerking the reins a little, and Link clucked reproachfully at him in response.

"There you are," she said gratefully, and hurried to join him, taking Mutoh's reins. "I was wondering where you'd gone."

"I could say the same for you and Dragmire," Link said.

Zelda rolled her eyes. "One of the vai asked him to repair a spell on one of the cables, and he just had to sit down and do it before we could go."

"That was nice of him," Link said.

"He could stand to be a little less nice," Zelda said, rolling her eyes. She reached up and pulled open the pack behind her saddle, retrieving her cloak and slinging it around her shoulders, relishing the warmth. Then she turned back towards the main stable entrance, ready to call for Dragmire— and froze.

Dragmire stood near the dark arch of the stable entrance, holding the reins of a massive, red-maned black horse. Zelda's stomach did a slow, uncertain roll, and she felt her pulse speed up. Something about the tableau was... familiar , almost, uncannily so. The tall, dark horse, the dark man in his dark clothing. The way he held the reins. Something about it made her want to grab for the bow strapped behind her saddle, and she clenched her fists in her cloak to resist the urge.

And then one of the vai emerged from the stable entrance, hauling a saddle. Dragmire let the reins go slack as he moved to help her, and all at once the illusion was shattered. Zelda shook herself and clucked at Mutoh with her tongue, picking her way across to join him as Dragmire carefully hefted the saddle onto the horse's back.

The vai who'd brought the saddle turned out to be Konora, when Zelda got close enough to recognize her, and her heart did a little flip at the sight of her. A head shorter than Dragmire, Konora was sharp-featured, with hair so deep a red as to seem nearly violet and eyes so brown as to seem nearly black, and Zelda could admit it— she was a little enamored with the woman. She was knelt in the sand, guiding Dragmire through fastening the various buckles and clasps on the saddle, but she looked up at the sound of hooves on the sand and flashed Zelda a smile.

"—Don't go too fast tightening that girth, Mira," Konora said, and Dragmire huffed at her, not looking up from the leather strap in his hands.

"...Do you even know how to ride a horse?" Zelda asked.

"No, s— he doesn't," Konora said.

"I do so ," Dragmire snapped. "I've ridden before."

"A grand total of six times," Konora said, tapping him in the shins with the toe of her boot before looking back up at Zelda. "You keep an eye on him or he'll fall off the horse while you're not watching, and then he'll whine about it for the rest of the day."

"I was fifteen when that happened, you can let it go any year now," protested Dragmire. "And anyway , you were the one who wanted to race in the slot canyons and left me behind."

"That doesn't make it less embarrassing," Zelda said. "I've been riding since I was eight ."

Dragmire finished tightening the girth strap and stood, brushing the sand from his knees, and shot her a dirty look. "I didn't make fun of you for never having gone seal-surfing, now did I?"

"Where would I have gone seal-surfing in Hyrule?" Zelda retorted, feeling a touch smug at the dark scowl that finally crossed his face.

He turned to Konora instead, crossing his arms. "You said I'm supposed to check the fit of the girth again after a few minutes of riding, right?"

"Yup," the vai replied, and patted him on the shoulder. "Just follow my directions, ask your Hylians for help if you need it, and you'll be just fine."

His Hylians. Zelda controlled her expression to keep from frowning. Most Gerudo they spoke to referred to her and Link like that, nevermind that she at least was a crown princess and that neither of them were beholden to him in the slightest. And yet, just because they travelled in his company...

She was going to be glad to return to Hyrule.

She must have missed an exchange between Konora and Dragmire, because the vai abruptly pulled him into an embrace, burying her face against her shoulder. Dragmire hugged back, the pair rocking back and forth slightly. They let go after a minute, but Dragmire dropped his grip to Konora's forearms, holding her gently and flashing a soft smile.

"Let Nabooru know I made the Gateway safe and send her my love, will you?" he asked.

"I will. You take care of yourself out there, yeah?" Konora replied, then released him.

Dragmire turned back to the horse, adjusting the way his pack lay strapped behind the saddle, and Zelda watched him a moment, then turned to find Konora watching her, her black eyes sharp.

"May I speak with you a moment?" Konora asked, and Zelda nodded, letting the vai lead her away from Dragmire, guiding Mutoh after her.

"What is it?" she asked quietly.

Konora glanced back at Dragmire, then ducked her head to speak more quietly in Zelda's ear. "Listen, Your Highness...I wouldn't be going behind his back like this, but if he hears he's going to do something rash."

" What ?" Zelda asked.

"Two days ago, a couple of strangers passed through the Gateway leaving the desert," Konora said. "Hylians, or maybe Sheikah. I couldn't tell. But they hadn't passed through the Gateway into the desert— I would know, I keep track of every trader who enters or leaves. And they were asking after Mira in the marketplace, and after you or anyone who had heard of you."

Zelda froze. Suspicion welled icily in her guts. "...Were they men or women?" she asked.

"The tall one was a voe, I think," Konora said. "He was probably a Hylian— at least, he had dark hair and dark eyes, and he wasn't Faronese by his dress. His companion wore a hood and veil, and I never saw their face, but they walked like a vai."

"...You think they're Yiga," Zelda said softly.

"What traders would ask after our chieftain and the visiting princess of a foreign nation?" Konora asked, in a tone that suggested she didn't want an answer. "And I believe they wanted him to know, or they wouldn't have asked so openly. So I won't tell him, but I ask you to tell your knight and keep an eye out. As long as the three of you travel together, you'll be in danger."

"If they're Yiga, we'd be in danger if we travel separately," Zelda replied. "But I'll keep quiet on it."

"Thank you," Konora said, clasping Zelda's forearms. She ducked in a little further, pressing a kiss to each of Zelda's cheeks, then took a step back. "Travel safely, and may your road be even."

Zelda opened her mouth to answer, but found herself without words. Her cheeks were hot— she could feel the place where Konora's lips had brushed, where she'd left traces of her blue lipstick behind. She stammered out a thank-you, stepping backwards and stumbling on Mutoh's reins, and Konora laughed and waved farewell, already retreating towards the entrance to the stables.

"So, you and Konora, hm?" Dragmire asked from behind her, and Zelda spun to face him. He flashed her a wicked grin, eyes dancing.

"I— no, not me and Konora," Zelda said, blushing harder, and reached up to wipe at her cheeks, the heels of her hands coming away streaked with blue. "I just...is it inappropriate for me to admire a beautiful woman?"

Dragmire snorted. "If it was inappropriate, my people wouldn't exist," he said. "Now, weren't you the one who was all impatient to go? You've left poor Link waiting on his own while you had your little fling."

Zelda looked back towards the path, where she'd left Link— and, sure enough, Link was already mounted, pacing Epona back and forth and clearly waiting for them. She flushed again, this time in embarrassment, and quickly mounted Mutoh, squeezing her thighs around the barrel of the horse and urging him back towards Link. Leather creaked behind her, and she kept her eyes forward. The hairs on the back of her neck already stood on end, especially as the hooves of Dragmire's horse crunched on the sand behind her. The weight of the thing…

Link, apparently, hadn't elected to look away, and when she reached him his eyes were fixed on Dragmire and wide as dinner plates. His face had gone pale.

"...Zelda?" he said quietly. "Did you...see anything when Dragmire saddled up? Anything about him?"

"...We'll talk about it when we reach Aquame Stable and can get some privacy," she replied, just as quiet, then straightened and turned to look at Dragmire as he joined them.

Maybe the shade had blinded her, but for a moment, his silhouette looked wrong .

Then he rode up to join them in the sunlight, and she shook herself. Nothing wrong about him at all— just Dragmire, tall and handsome and golden-eyed. He swayed uncomfortably in the saddle, like he wasn't quite sure how he was supposed to be sitting, and he'd bitten his lip uncertainly.

"You two are going to have to ride slowly for me," he said. "I can already tell I'm going to fall off if I'm not careful."

"Just keep your hips loose and try to move with the horse and you'll be fine," Link said. "But we'll go slow, don't worry. No sense wearing ourselves out on the first day."

Dragmire grimaced. "Don't remind me," he muttered.

Zelda chuckled, then tapped Mutoh gently in the ribs to urge him into a trot. She heard Link yelp behind her, and then hoofbeats as the pair of them hurried to catch up. Link and Epona caught her first, riding up on her left, and Dragmire joined them a moment later on her right. He was still swaying, and a sidelong glance at him showed he'd gripped the reins so hard his knuckles went white.

She turned her attention from the boys, then, tilting her head back to gaze up at the high sandstone walls on either side of them. The morning sun painted the rock in ribbons of red and gold, deep orange and warm brown, layers upon layers flowing like water and falling over each other. High arches of the same material curved over the road, and part of her wanted to stop and marvel at the careful carvings over the faces— they looked too fine to have been graven with mortal tools. Most of the trail ran in shadow, where the rock shielded them from the growing heat of the sun, and while Zelda knew she would be grateful for it before long she shrugged her cloak higher on her shoulders and carefully rubbed her hands together, trying to banish the chill settling into her joints.

Link called a rest three hours later, as they rounded the curve of the Koukot Plateau, and they had lunch perched on one of the rocks in the sunlight, gazing down the length of the canyon until it curved out of sight again at the base of Mount Nabooru while the horses grazed on the sparse, dry grasses of the canyon. Zelda let herself relax some, closing her eyes and just listening to the wind over the stone, to the quiet creak of leather and cloth on hide as the horses moved. There'd been no sign of the Yiga— or any other travellers, for that matter— and no obstructions in their path, just the long, slow ride.

At the very least, Dragmire hadn't fallen off his horse. She'd tried not to watch him while they rode— something about the sight of him, even out of the corner of her eye, left her unsettled— but he'd loosened up over the last couple miles, swaying gently in the saddle with the horse's stride, looking far more comfortable than she'd have expected from a novice rider. He was settled on the rock beside her now, polishing off the flatbread and hummus they'd packed along, and he glanced up at her as if feeling the weight of her gaze.

"Something on your mind, Zelda?" he asked.

"Just thinking," Zelda replied.

"Oh no ," said Link, grinning, and Zelda flicked a pebble at him.

"It's not bad , Link," she huffed, then turned back to Dragmire. "We don't actually know that much about Gerudo magic in Hyrule, and I'd wondered…"

"How it works?" Dragmire said, head tilting, and Zelda nodded. "Whatever you're expecting, it's simpler than that."

Zelda leaned forward, placing her elbows on her knees and setting her chin in her hands. "Do tell."

Dragmire shrugged and held out a hand, then flicked his wrist. A lick of flame leapt up in his palm, crackling in the air above his hand, and he rolled his hand again, letting it play up through his fingers. His irises shone with ruddy light.

"It's just….focus," he said quietly, and spread his hand, the ball of flame expanding to fill the bowl of his fingers. "Willpower. I will there to be a flame here, and so there's fire. I call the lightning, and it comes. What I will, will be, so long as I have the focus and mental strength to make it be so."

"Is it just fire and lightning?" Link asked.

"Depends on the mage," Dragmire said. "For me , fire and lightning come most easily. Some mages can call forth the power of ice, some mages can shape stone as easily as wet clay in a potter's hands. Some mages can do... other things."

"What sort of other things?" Zelda asked.

Dragmire shrugged and flicked his wrist again, extinguishing the flame. "Like the gate-ward on Parapa, or the spell concealing the western gate. Like the seal in the Desert Colossus. I...don't know how to explain them, the old knowledge is lost— it's been lost for three millennia. The Rova think...they theorize there were at least two schools of higher magic, and likely more, but all our writings on them, all of our teachings are long gone, and there's no one left who remembers them. Or could teach them."

Zelda tilted her head. "Then...how did you activate the ward on the walls? We'd— Link heard from one of the guards…"

"It seems Link's heard a lot of things from my guards," Dragmire said, and flashed Link a wry grin. Link's cheeks reddened. "And the answer to that is 'three days of intensive meditation on the spell-key to feel out its workings, and a blood sacrifice'."

"... Your blood?" Zelda asked, grimacing.

"Obviously," Dragmire said. "I wouldn't ask someone else to bleed for me."

They went quiet for a moment, and then Link leaned forward. "So how long have you been a mage, anyway?"

"Since I was little," Dragmire said, shrugging. "Nabooru and I were fighting over something stupid, I can't even remember what , and the next thing I remember lightning struck the courtyard a few feet from where we were standing and destroyed the pavers. My mothers were furious , and the very next day I was in the temple with Aunt Koume and Aunt Kotake, learning not to call a lightning bolt over a petty argument with a friend."

Zelda nodded. "It's a lot to have your power come in early, isn't it?"

"I take it you've got a similar story?" Dragmire asked, cocking his head curiously. His braid spilled forward over his shoulder, and Zelda had to take a moment and catch her breath.

"...I don't know how widely known it is, but the women of my line are clairvoyant," Zelda said carefully, watching Dragmire's face. He arched a brow slightly, and she blundered forward. "It's not much— that is, I can't see the future anytime I like— but occasionally I'll dream something that comes to pass, or I'll have a feeling about something that proves correct later. I was six the first time it happened— Mother and Father caught me breaking into the kitchens in the castle because I'd dreamt the cook had made my favorite sweets, and I wanted them so badly I'd risk a scolding."

Dragmire grinned at her. "And did they?"

"Oh, yes ," Zelda said. "When Father caught me, I had powdered sugar all down the front of my dress."

Dragmire and Link glanced sideways at each other, then burst out laughing, and Zelda couldn't help joining them, slumping sideways into Dragmire's shoulder and giggling helplessly. He let her, grabbing her hand and squeezing, and her heart missed a beat before she contained herself again.

Eventually the three of them sobered, and Zelda pushed herself back upright, taking deep breaths to try and calm down, to recenter herself. She released her grip on Dragmire's hand, and after a moment his fingers uncurled, letting her go, and she glanced sideways at him before looking away, her cheeks heating.

"...Well, I think we probably ought to get back in the saddle," Link said, shifting to a kneeling position and packing away what little remained of their lunch. "We've got...probably another five hours on the road, and I'd like to get to the stable before nightfall."

Dragmire hummed in response, tilting his head back and squinting up at the sun. "...It's midday now, so we should make it alright, as long as nothing happens before we get there."

Zelda rose to her feet, brushing crumbs of flatbed off her lap, and hopped down from the boulder, her boots crunching on the dry gravel underfoot. Epona picked her head up and whuffled at her, but Mutoh and Dragmire's horse ignored her until she was close enough to pick up Mutoh's reins. The gelding shot her a look that could only be described as sulky. She ignored it, crouching beside him and tightening up his girth strap from where she'd loosened it during their rest, tapping at his stomach to make him release the breath he was holding so she could clinch it down properly. Other boots crunched behind her, and when she rose Link and Dragmire were doing the same.

Or, rather, Dragmire was still fiddling with the girth strap. Link had already swung himself purposefully into the saddle, and was perched on Epona's back, watching him with amusement. He glanced sidelong at Zelda as she swung up into Mutoh's saddle, flashing her a grin, then looked back down at Dragmire with the same look on his face.

Zelda knew that look, that silly, infatuated grin. She rolled her eyes a little and made Mutoh back a few steps, giving Dragmire a little more space to work, until at last he finished adjusting the girth strap and mounted up.

They took off down the canyon again, riding single-file as the road narrowed. The walls soared ever higher overhead, blocking the midday sun even as it swung directly above them. Zelda shucked her cloak at last, balling it up behind her in the space between her saddle and the pack as the heat increased. It wasn't nearly as unbearable as the desert sun had been, but still— northern Hyrule Field was rarely so warm. She glanced sideways at Link as they rode, noting the way he'd loosened the lacing on his gauntlets and rolled up the sleeves of his undershirt.

The road narrowed further as they approached the bend in the canyon, where it turned north to open out in the Gerudo Valley pass, and Zelda cast an uneasy glance up at the walls overhead. Old, but well-maintained scaffolding criss-crossed the cliff faces, of the same style as the walkways and lifts in Koukot, and high overhead banners fluttered in the breeze blowing up from behind them. She thought she saw movement, up between the boards, but they were moving too quickly for her to be certain.

And then they rounded the bend in the canyon.

An ungodly shriek and a bugling horn split the air, followed immediately by an arrow that slammed into the canyon wall and missed Link's head by inches. Epona reared. Zelda screamed, and Mutoh balked.

There was a flash of red in front of her. Mutoh reared up on his hind legs and unseated her. Zelda hit the dirt hard on her hip, rolling quickly to get out of the range of his hooves. Scrambled back upright.

Bokoblin. Just a red one, thank Hylia, but she could smell the stink off it now, rotted flesh and the acrid stench of Malice. It shrieked at her, the same ungodly sound from before the arrow had hit. The horn blew again. Zelda braced herself to run.

Mutoh kicked out, and Zelda flinched as his steel-shod hoof slammed home into the bokoblin's skull. The beast toppled backwards. Zelda darted forward, catching his reins and vaulting up into the saddle. Her hand closed on her bow.

She put two arrows through the beast's skull in as many breaths. Wheeled Mutoh about with her knees, an arrow on the string already, scanning for the other bokoblins. A 'blin never travelled alone, not like lizalfos. She smelled Malice as the first bokoblin, now off to her left, burst into a cloud of foul black smoke.

There were four of them. No, five— the fifth was on the scaffolding back up the canyon, stuffing its horn back into a loop on its slapdash belt. Two of the others had split Link off, driving him and Epona off the road. They circled warily, brandishing wooden spears, but didn't draw too close. The remaining two backed Dragmire towards the one on the wall.

The one who was now drawing a shoddy, bent-stick bow. It couldn't possibly have much power to it— but Dragmire was totally unarmored.

Zelda raised her own bow, sighting down the length of her arrow at it. The limbs flexed, recurve tips straightening out as she reached full draw, thumb resting at the anchor point on her jawline.

She loosed.

The arrow slammed home in the bokoblin's forehead, slamming it clear off the scaffolding to the canyon floor, where it burst into smoke. One of the bokoblins menacing Dragmire squawked and turned towards her, brandishing its weapon.

Hylia . It had a sword . An old and rusted thing, yes, but still a broadsword. She backed Mutoh a pace or two away, nocking another arrow.

Dragmire snapped his fingers.

There was a thunderous crack, and Zelda felt the lightning bolt hit more than she saw it. Mutoh screamed beneath her, backing away, and Zelda caught his reins and reeled him back in, murmuring soothingly as her vision cleared. The bokoblins— both of them— were streaks of ash. Link whooped, and another bokoblin screamed, and as she turned to look Epona's hooves came down on the last bokoblin's skull, shattering it like old pottery. It burst into smoke beneath her, and the mare danced in place. Link patted her neck, cooing approvingly.

"Are you both alright?" Dragmire asked.

"Just fine," Zelda said. The last of the black spots faded from her vision.

"Same here," Link said. With an expert hand, he guided Epona back up the embankment and onto the road, pausing at the black streaks where the bokoblins Dragmire had incinerated had stood. "It's just...these weren't here when we came through the pass last week."

Dragmire nodded. "The Davali— the tribe that controls the East Mesa— usually keeps this pass free of monsters. It's unusual to see them here in any numbers, much less the sort of numbers that...form packs and assault travellers." He paused, peering around and studying the cliffsides above them. "...For them to be out like this, there must be a larger pack encamped somewhere nearby."

"...Well, it's a good thing we found them, instead of some other travellers," Zelda said.

"They'll be back," Dragmire said. "If they're attacking travellers here —"

"Then that means they've had success at this location before," Link said. "They already know this is a good ambush spot."

"And that means a large enough pack for them to strategize," Dragmire said. "I'll need to send a message to Lady Sumati when we reach the stable, let her know there's a pack somewhere on the Koukot Plateau. She'll sort it out." His brows had furrowed, and the horse shifted underneath him, as if sensing his discomfort.

"...Then we should hurry," Zelda said. "The sooner we get to the stable, the sooner it gets dealt with."

Dragmire nodded, and wheeled his horse about without another word, urging it into a canter. Link hupped at Epona, and Zelda urged Mutoh after them, hurrying to keep up.

They made the pass without incident, emerging into the Regencia river valley. The high sandstone walls fell back and away, and Zelda tilted her head back, gazing up at the basalt upthrust of the Great Plateau away to the west, the weathered dark rocks and the brilliant green vegetation on the Hyrulean side of the River Regencia. The Digdogg Suspension Bridge arced over the water, linking the columns of stone that rose from the riverbed, unworn by time. Dragmire crossed first, but Link paused, waving Zelda onward.

Mutoh pranced nervously as they approached the wooden boards, as if he hadn't made the same crossing a week before.

"Easy, boy," she murmured, patting his neck, and squeezed his barrel with her knees, encouraging him on.

He tossed his head and stepped carefully up onto the boards, then trotted forwards willingly, towards where Dragmire waited at the first column. Epona's hooves rang on the bridge behind them a moment later, and Mutoh seemed to settle, his ears twitching back before swivelling forward again. Zelda clucked at him approvingly.

They crossed each span in that manner, until at last Mutoh's hooves reached the dirt path on the Hylian side of the gorge, and Zelda let herself relax, knowing her horse wouldn't throw himself off the bridge in his nervousness anymore. Epona joined them a moment later.

"So, how far out are we?" Dragmire asked, sitting back in his saddle.

"Not far," Link said. "There's a fork in the road up ahead, on the other side of that grove, and we'll take the north fork there and be at Aquame Stable a little while after that."

"And we should be there by sundown, too," Zelda said, glancing up at the sky. The sun had begun to sink westward, settling atop the Great Plateau. Before long it would disappear behind it, casting the land to the west in shadow long before night actually fell.

Something about the thought made her tense. If a pack of bokoblins had taken up residence on the other side of the bridge, then the odds of an encounter with other monsters increased— her grandmother had theorized that higher populations of monsters meant an increased presence of stal-beasts, and they were certainly correlated to the flocks of keese that had plagued Hyrule in the decades before her birth. Of course, they only rose after nightfall— but, well.

The sooner they reached the stable, the better.

She urged Mutoh into a trot again, guiding him up the trail, and the boys followed after her. None of them were speaking, now— Link seemed on alert, his keen blue eyes scanning the sides of the rode, while Dragmire sat uncomfortably in his saddle, clearly wanting the ride to be over. Zelda didn't envy him; he'd be sore after such a long ride, especially since he wasn't used to it, and it wouldn't get any better from here forward.

The grove at the fork in the road surrounded them. Zelda turned them left, leading them up the northern fork and around the curve of the hill, until the ground levelled out and the trees fell back, and the familiar Hylian motif of the horse-headed stable rose seemingly from nowhere, like a guardian spirit watching over the tiny community that sprung up around it. Just from the trail she could count a few small houses, tucked back in amongst the trees, and a slightly larger complex around the stable and inn itself.

Aquame Stable had been quiet when they'd passed through the week before, and that didn't seem to have changed in the interim— and at this time of evening, the only people near the front of the stable were the stable owner, a short, broad woman in the red-and-cream vest, and one of the stablehands, who straightened and spat out the blade of grass he'd been chewing as they approached. His eyes went wide, and Zelda couldn't help a smirk— he must have caught sight of Dragmire.

They dismounted in front of the stable, and Zelda made her way up to the counter, where the stable owner was waiting. The woman looked her up and down, dark eyes gleaming in the last light of the sun, then darted over her shoulder as Link and Dragmire joined her.

"Well, what can I do for ya, honey?" she asked, leaning forward.

"We need to board three horses overnight, and beds for three at the inn," Zelda replied.

The woman nodded, reaching under her counter for the ledger. "It'll be sixty rupees for that— three overnight boards and three beds." She paused, head tilting, and shot a look askance at Link before returning her gaze to Zelda. " Or , for ten rupees extra, I can offer you and your Gerudo friend a private room, so you ladies don't have to worry about sharing sleeping space with a man ."

Dragmire made an incredulous noise, which he disguised as a cough, and when Zelda glanced back Link had put a hand over his mouth. His blue eyes were shining with barely-suppressed laughter.

"—Ma'am, I would never ," he choked out. "Hilda and Mira are dear friends of mine, nothing more."

The stable owner squinted at him suspiciously, then eyed Dragmire, who was still coughing. Link thumped him on the back.

"...Alright, then," she said. "Three single beds in a private room, then?"

"Yes, please," Zelda said. Her ears burned with embarrassment, and she covered it by fumbling for her wallet, pulling three red rupees from the pouch and dropping them into the stable owner's hand.

The woman counted them out, then nodded and dropped them into what sounded like a wooden box. "Your room will be the first one past the left entrance, when you head in," she said, and turned away, bustling back inside.

Link burst out laughing the second she was out of earshot, slumping against Dragmire's arm. Dragmire himself offered Zelda a thin, tired-looking smile, and dropped his arm around Link's shoulders.

"I can't believe she thought you were a—" Link started.

"I'm Gerudo , what else would I be?" Dragmire asked, rolling his eyes.

" I can't believe she didn't notice the...you know," Zelda said, reaching up to touch her jawline, where the sideburns sat on Dragmire's face.

"I can," he said. He pulled his braid forward over his shoulder, fiddling with the end of it. "...A lot of the time, Hylians only see what they expect to see. And I'm not going to shave them unless someone comments on it."

Zelda snorted. "It was the jewelry that did it, and you know it."

"That doesn't make it less ridiculous," Dragmire replied. He paused, then stretched, releasing Link and wincing. "I think I'm going to...go lie down for a bit. Please wake me when there's dinner."

And then he disappeared back into the stable, leaving Link and Zelda on their own. Silence fell between them. Link sighed quietly and padded over to join her, bumping his shoulder against hers.

"...So," he said, at last. His voice was low, conspiratorial, as if he expected to be overheard. "You saw it too, right? At Koukot?"

"I don't know what I saw," Zelda said. "It was like...like the shape of him was wrong. The angles of his silhouette."

Link nodded. "The Sword got hot when he saddled up— I felt it through the sheath."

"It hasn't done that before?"

"No. Never before, and not in his presence— and it cooled off as we rode, but…"

"...I suppose we'll just have to keep an eye on it," Zelda said, and bit her lip. Her stomach did a slow, nauseous roll. Dragmire on horseback, and the Sword growing hot…

There was a faint pressure, right at the base of her skull, and Zelda sighed.

If she did not dream tonight, she would be amazed.