COUNTING STARS

Chapter 30: Impostor

Tuesday, December 25th

The grassy fields of northern Lakeside tapered off into the sandy soil of the Ikana region as we traveled; when we turned onto a westbound highway the hills got steeper and the land got rockier. Eldinburg's our next stop, the city to the very north of Castle Town but far northwest of Lakeside. The city boasts an attractive mountain range in its far northern reaches, but all stand in the shadows of the enormous active volcano, Death Mountain.

I've offered Zelda many times to take over at the wheel, seeing as how she's driven the whole time and must be exhausted, but she always politely declined and claimed she was fine. Long road trips never bother me, especially when they're spent with someone I care about. But the gravity of our situation has so often led us to simply keep quiet and tread grimly onward. Therefore, boredom tends to rear its ugly head.

"So." I wince at the sound of my own voice; disturbing the silence like that was almost deafening. I clear my throat. "Um. What's on your mind?"

She looks over at me, raises an eyebrow, and smirks. "Well that was just a terrible conversation starter."

I roll my eyes, defeated. "I know it was! But look, I don't like this… this silence. I want it to go."

"So far you're doing a decent job, then."

"Come on, just talk to me. You know we're never this awkward. You've been thinking about stuff this whole time, haven't you?"

"No, you actually just woke me up."

I blink, staring dumbly at her as she drives down the freeway.

"Kidding," she giggles, sending me an amused smile. "Gods, you're right. We are awkward."

"'Cause you're keeping your thoughts from me!"

"That's what thoughts are for, aren't they? If I said everything on my mind I'd have Tourette's."

"And now you're just stalling."

"Fine," Zelda says, "I was keeping quiet because I was thinking of sad things and I didn't want to make you sad. But if you want me to talk, I'll talk."

I grin, waiting, and she takes my reaction as a cue to finally spill. Her response, though, is not what I had expected.

"I'm worried about you."

Surprised, I ask, "Uh, why?"

"Lots of reasons."

"Enlighten me then."

"Okay. For starters, you overestimate your capabilities, underestimate your opponents, don't properly gauge the battlefield for all its dangers and provided tactical advantages, not to mention the fact that you can be incredibly reckless, and more often than not, you rely on sheer luck to save you."

I blink. "Please, don't sugarcoat it."

"Oh, gods, sorry," Zelda says quickly, bopping herself on the forehead before showing me her glowing Triforce hand. "I'm still trying to manage all these new thoughts and keep them from just spilling out. Those were Nayru's opinions, not mine."

"I'm getting the idea that Nayru doesn't really like me."

"No, she does, she just thinks you're a bit… slow to pick up on things."

I scoff. "Great to hear."

"But I don't think that!"

I fix her with a doubtful look. "Zelda, if the Goddess of Wisdom thinks I'm dumb, I think I'm pretty much a lost cause at this point."

Zelda sends me a humored smile. "She's just looking out for you, Link. Nayru's the one who's been giving you those prophetic hints. I'm not sure what exactly those are, but it's what I've been told."

"So Nayru's just holding casual conversations with you all the time?"

"No, it's… not easy to explain. It's almost like all her logic was uploaded into my brain and gets triggered by specific circumstances. That's when I start to ramble on like a snooty genius. Does that make sense?"

"I guess," I say with a slow nod. "Was that even the sad thing you were thinking about?"

"No, um—" She shakes her head, seemingly clearing her thoughts. In response, the bright glow of her Triforce returns to its normal dullness. "—Nayru kinda took over there. I'm actually… you know, having doubts."

I knit my brows, then reach over to place a concerned hand on her knee. "What kind of doubts?"

She glances my way, offering a reassuring smile that fails to be reassuring, the worry palpable in her eyes. "You and I, we may be able to do this. Fight Yuga, I mean. But our Triforces and the Master Sword might not be enough against the entire dark army, so—"

"So we get the resistance to help."

Zelda slowly nods. "Right, that's… what I'm getting at. Link, we already lost Dark. I don't want to lose anybody else."

"Dark isn't gone," I assure her. "We just have to kill Yuga and break the spell. And Impa is training the others."

"I know," she sighs. "You're right. But it's scary knowing we'd be responsible for anything that could happen to them."

I rub my thumb against the fabric of her jeans, looking distantly back out the windshield. "That's… why I acted like I did. With you."

She turns to me, lips parted, eyes searching mine.

"I know it's in the past," I add, "and we haven't talked about it since before we were together, but… that's where I was coming from. I couldn't let you be hurt."

That frustrating silence returns again, and I instantly regret bringing up such a touchy topic. Why couldn't I keep my mouth shut? That was the one argument that drove us apart.

Zelda's expression saddens, and she wipes absently at her eyes. "Oh, gods, Link. I'm such an idiot…"

"What do you mean?"

"It took me this long to realize it—that you—you had the best intentions, and I—I was so selfish…" Zelda wipes at her eye again, looking at me with transparent regret. "And I didn't even consider your perspective until something very similar had the chance to affect me!"

"Hey, hey, your reasons were completely valid," I tell her with complete honesty. "It was your decision, right? You wanted to be with me and I didn't let you. I shouldn't have been so suppressive. And hey, our friends feel the same way you did! If they want to fight alongside us, we can't tell them no. We just have to double our efforts and make sure that they don't get hurt."

Zelda starts to calm down, realizing that in her distress she had sped up to twenty over the speed limit. I reach over and gently wipe away the remaining tears from her cheek, and she sends me a grateful smile.

"You're right. And I think we can both agree that this—" Zelda finds my hand, interlocking our fingers. "—this could have been way easier."

"What's done is done," I say, bringing her hand up to my lips and placing a kiss on the fair, warm skin. "We've got our whole lives to make up for it now."

"Whole lives?" she echoes; there was no uneasiness, no uncertainty in her tone that could have otherwise been there. Instead, there's hope gleaming in her eyes, and promise in her smile.

"Absolutely. You know, unless some dashing prince comes around and steals you from me."

"Never." Zelda risks the dangers of taking her eyes off the road and leans over to give me a quick kiss.

For the first time in a while, the silence is comfortable; we have nothing left to get off our chests.

It isn't until we pass the Now Entering Eldinburg sign that Zelda strikes up conversation once more.

"Does your patron goddess ever speak to you?"

"Farore? No. I don't think she ever needs to." I watch as we pass through some of the suburban neighborhoods in the outskirts of the city, my eyes drifting off toward the mountain range in the far north. "I have my motivations clear."

"Mm," she hums as we continue down the street.

"When I first started being Hero, I was convinced that I was doing it because I had nothing to lose," I admit. "But over time I realized I have many people who care for me, so my motivation changed. I started doing it for them. For you."

She turns, giving me a meaningful look.

"It's not just about revenge anymore," I add. "It's about getting rid of these threats for good. Protecting the ones I love."

"You're a good person, Link. Don't forget that."

Her smile brightens my mood, and I return the favor with one of my own.

"You said Nayru was the one giving me all those hints, didn't you?"

"I did."

I keep that in mind as I stare out at the ominous Death Mountain as it looms over the city, constantly threatening irreparable damage with its dull seismic rumbles. Halfway up to the summit, a large facility is built into one of its spacious alcoves, with a single narrow road leading back down to civilization. Death Mountain Prison. In an immoral sense, I find it to be rather comical that the Hylian regime decided to dump the scum of the kingdom onto an active volcano; of course, in the event of an eruption, giving the inmates no chance at survival will certainly ease the need for taxpayer money. I see their angle.

As I stare at the distant building, something from the depths of my memory pokes and prods at my mind. Am I missing something? Is there some other significance to the prison, other than the fact that it currently holds Veran and Ghirahim?

That's it—Ghirahim! Over a month ago, I'd had visions of him in the prison. They were oddly vivid, and too real to be mere dreams. And if Zelda is right about Nayru being responsible for those prophetic hints, then that's where I can find the final pendant!

Zelda notices my pensive expression and idle fidgeting. She knits her brows and asks, "What, what're you thinking about?"

I look away from the window, meet her gaze, then grin.

"Have you ever been to prison, babe?"

Zelda blinks.

"A sewer, a haunted fortress, and now prison," groans Zelda after I having been filled in on my hunch, her expression contorted with unease. "You need to think of some better date ideas."

We walk along the sidewalk after leaving the Camry in a parking garage, enjoying one of our few moments of respite. Downtown Eldinburg is quite the sight to see, with quaint floral lampposts lining the red brick roads, frequent coffee shops and ice cream parlors and boutiques, and many townsfolk walking their dogs by on this particularly warm night. Apparently Death Mountain's geothermal energy causes the surface to warm and radiate heat into the air, providing a much warmer climate than Castle Town or Lakeside. Still, in mid-winter, the temperature change is not significant enough for removing layers.

I lace my fingers through hers, and she leans her head onto my shoulder. "I'd say this place is pretty romantic."

"Mhm," she agrees, sighing wistfully. "We still haven't been on an official date, have we?"

"We've sorta had a terrorist to deal with."

Zelda laughs. "I know. But the girly side of me wants that special first date, y'know?"

I grin, planting a kiss on the top of her head. "When this is all over, Zelda, I'm taking you on the greatest date you've ever been on."

"I've never been on a date, so it'll also be the worst one I've ever been on."

"That's the spirit."

We amble down the sidewalk for a couple more blocks until we arrive at the Ton Pu Inn. Neither of us really wanted to retire for the night, seeing as how beautiful this area really is, but a long day's travel has rendered us both weary. Zelda insisted on paying again, claiming she isn't living on limited funds like I am. So I waited until she ducked away to use the restroom, then took the opportunity to check in under my name and card. The lady at the desk hooked me up with a room on the top floor for a fair price, then handed me the two keycards.

Fifteen minutes later brings us to our room, a small space with a single queen bed and two lamps that bathe the walls in warm light. Zelda stares out the window, looking down to the city below. "I really like it here," she says.

I sit shirtless on the bed, removing the bandages I had applied to some of the nicks and scrapes earned from the Ikana Fortress. I look up at her as she watches the commotion. "Me too."

She sighs, then closes the curtain and turns away from the window, facing me. "I guess it just reminds me of home. Or how home used to be."

"It does look a lot like the Tri-District," I comment.

Zelda plops down beside me and stares up at the ceiling, and I lie back next to her.

"My father doesn't know I left."

"Really?" I ask; she nods. "Does he know about us?"

"Not yet. I mean, he's always suspected we were kind of a thing. But he certainly doesn't know you're Hero and I'm your destined sidekick." She emits a sigh, then turns on her side and stares into my eyes. "I've been texting him every now and then to let him know I'm okay. He's stayed cooped up at home, and he thinks I'm still in my dorm. I've had my friends cover for me, too."

"You're not… gonna tell him I'm Hero, right?"

"No, of course not. I know he's against that. He's only thought about the negative publicity the academy can get from a student-criminal, so he hasn't considered all the good you're doing."

"I don't want your father to be angry at you for being with me, Zelda."

"He won't be, because it'll stay a secret. And even if he did find out you're Hero, I wouldn't care." She reaches a hand out, placing it on my bare arm, her fingers warm against my skin. "You're too important to me."

The truth and sincerity of her words strike me; it's the first time she's told me what I mean to her. Moved, I fix her with a look of longingness I've never showed before, the ghost of a smile on my face. I stare deeply into her eyes, studying the flecks of hazel and emerald, the vast seas of pretty blue-green irises, and easily find myself entranced in their beauty.

I pull her closer, maintaining eye contact until our lips connect, and we both close our eyes as we melt into the kiss. Running a hand through her hair, I wrap my arm around her waist as she clings to me, then pull her on top of me as I roll onto my back. Her breath is hot against my cheek as she subtly separates her lips, a discreet yet noticeable invitation for me to explore further. I take the opportunity to deepen the kiss, and she responds with a vocal sigh—she would vehemently refuse to admit that it was a moan.

Seconds later, she pulls away, a look of pure happiness apparent in her adorable smile and crinkled eyes. I reach up and tap her on the nose, and she giggles.

Zelda parts her lips to say something, hesitates, then only sighs and chooses instead to nestle her head on my chest. "Goodnight," she says sweetly.

Again, not what I was expecting, or hoping. But all she needs is more time. "Goodnight, Zelda."

I reach over and flip the switch, turning off the lamps and letting darkness flood the room. We haven't even bothered to pull the covers up; our body heat and the warmth of the thermostat will be enough for a good night's sleep.

"Link?"

"Yeah?"

"I… hope you sleep well."

I smile knowingly. "You too, Zel."

I know without a doubt that I love this girl, and even though she hasn't said it, I can tell she loves me too.

Wednesday, December 26th

"Can you run your plan by me one more time?"

"Zelda, this is the fifth time."

"And yet I still think it's stupid."

"Well, think about it! You said yourself that Nayru was giving me prophetic hints. A month ago I was having dreams about Ghirahim and some scary guy at the prison. He had a ruby necklace. That can't be a coincidence!"

"Look, I believe you. I just don't think mugging two prison guards, stealing their uniforms, and pretending to be them to sneak in is a smart idea."

"Well, has Nayru come up with anything better?"

Zelda blinks, biting her lip and staring at her hand. It isn't glowing.

"Aha!" I exclaim triumphantly. "She agrees with me!"

"Okay fine, she does." Zelda huffs. "I just don't feel comfortable doing something so wrong and illegal."

"You already broke into Hyrule Castle and robbed the mayor of Ordonia."

"But we had to do those things!"

"And we have to do this thing."

Zelda sighs, reluctance in her eyes as she drives north toward the looming mountains. "Okay, fine... But they have guns."

"And we have a Link."

Zelda grins, hitting me lightly on the chest. "I know. But please don't do your shocky-thing to them."

I smirk. "Shocky-thing?"

"You know what I mean."

"And why not?"

"I just feel bad harming some innocent prison guards who are only trying to do their jobs."

"That's sweet of you," I tell her with a smile. "Really. But the guards there are known for neglecting meals and beating helpless prisoners."

Zelda blinks. "Then do your thing."

Twenty minutes later we arrive at the base of the mountain, then spend the next twenty minutes in slow ascent, winding up around its circumference. When the road widens and one of the tall towers of the prison comes into view, Zelda slows the car to a stop.

Beyond, the enormous stone prison sits prominently on a particularly large outcropping of the mountain, walled in by massive ramparts crowned by coils of barbed wire, and overseen by four tall watchtowers. An empty transfer bus rests near the entrance, and two armed officials stand guard at the steel double doors.

"We'll need to take out the guards at the towers first," announces Zelda, "then move onto the two at the gate."

"Right. We'll need a nonlethal method of taking them down. I could use my fists, but I doubt that'll keep them out for long enough."

"That's why you're gonna distract the guards up front, while I sneak up to the watchtowers and take them out. The snipers use tranq darts, not bullets."

I frown at her, a little skeptical in spite of her confidence. "How can you be sure?"

"I took Law Enforcement as an elective last year—"

"That is super hot."

"—and prisons are required by law to use nonlethal weapons on runaways," she finishes, smirking but trying to hiding her blush.

I knit my brows, unable to keep the concern out of my tone. "This isn't the most rule-following prison from what I've heard, Zel."

Zelda smiles, grabbing my hand and squeezing it reassuringly. "I'll be okay. I've got superpowers too, now, remember? And the element of surprise."

Admittedly, I'm still reluctant to let her take on such a dangerous task by herself, but it's true; the Triforce has certainly provided a significant boost to Zelda's agility and athleticism. Although it didn't gift her with superhuman strength, it should still be enough to help her overpower a foe in a one-on-one situation.

I send her a smile. "I know. I believe in you."

After a hasty, uncomfortable changing session that involved a couple nosy glances from the both of us, Zelda and I tumble out of the car in our respective vigilante outfits—Zelda in her Sheikah jumpsuit, and myself dressed as Hero, of course. We share a longing look before nodding good luck to one another, then part ways. I strut toward the two guards, hoping to draw their attention while Zelda creeps along the side of the mountain, ducking and hiding between the crags and rocks.

By the time I've gotten halfway there, the guards have shared a look between themselves and have tightened their grips on their rifles, their posture growing more rigid. I keep walking up toward them, putting on a fake smile.

"That's close enough," asserts the one on the left, holding out a hand in warning. He's taller than the other guy, with a sharp jawline and a permanent frown set above sunken eyes. Overall, he looks like a drill sergeant.

I hold my hands up peaceably, keeping a relaxed expression on my face. I know I'm going to have to buy Zelda some time to get that tranquilizer from the guard at the watchtower, so it's best that I stall for a little while. "It's cool. I'm here for a visit."

"We know who you are," the drill sergeant says, scowl deepening.

The second one stiffens, raising an eyebrow and glancing at his partner. He's shorter and stockier than the first guy, with a thick brown beard. "We do?" he asks.

"Yes," hisses the first. "The outlaw from Castle Town. Who else would show up in a green costume?"

"I dunno. Ryan Reynolds?"

"We don't talk about that movie."

I grin, our plan falling into place. From the corner of my eye, I notice Zelda quickly and gracefully scaling the tower, then I swing my gaze back toward the pair of guards. I clear my throat. "I'm willing to sign autographs."

To that, the first one sneers. "I knew you'd be a tool. You always seemed the type."

"You seem the type to kick puppies for fun."

"We can't let you in without authorization," chimes the second. "We don't allow visitors at this joint."

"Well that's a bummer. I assume you two are gonna try to arrest me now?"

"We don't have the jurisdiction. We ain't cops," grunts the first. "What brings you to Eldinburg, anyway? No more police in Castle Town, so you thought you'd come cause trouble up here?"

"Nah. Thought I'd see the sights. Starting with this lovely institution."

The first one rolls his eyes. "I hate you kids and your annoying sarcasm. Just spit in the bastard's face, don't say 'nice shirt.'"

The other frowns. "Shouldn't you be in the city fightin' all those monsters?"

Turning my gaze to the bearded man, I nod. "That's what I'm here for. A man in here has something of mine, something that can kill Yuga," I say, stretching the truth a little for the sake of simplicity.

"Yeah? And what is it?"

"I can't say." Or, rather, I won't say. They'd only laugh if I said I planned on killing a terrorist with a cute little necklace. "But you two would be heroes. After killing Yuga and freeing the city, I'll tell the king that you two were my biggest helpers. The rewards you'll get! The fame!"

"The lies!" adds the drill sergeant in a tone mimicking mine. "You ain't gettin' in. Now get lost before I call someone who can arrest you."

"Who's the guy you're lookin' for?" the bearded man pipes, to which the other guard glares daggers at him for continuing the conversation.

"It's... the so-called 'boss' of the place. What was his name again…?"

I frown, biting my lip and snapping my fingers a few times to jog my memory. I know I heard his name once, in that vision of Ghirahim. I may have even seen his face.

I take a stab and guess. "…Majora?"

Instantly, the guards' eyes widen, and their faces pale in evident fear. Even the tough, ultra-masculine drill sergeant-looking guard seems to stare at me frightfully. "Kid, you just said his name."

I blink. "Yeah, so?"

The second one shakes his head. "You don't know what you're gettin' yourself into."

Still confused, I fold my arms and raise an eyebrow. "You're acting."

"I said his name once. You don't wanna know what he did to me," the bearded one says in a low voice, then gestures over to the other guy. "What he did to him was worse. They had to put him in solitary, but he's got everyone under his thumb in there."

"That's enough information!" shouts his partner, glaring between him and me. "Kid, you have five seconds to turn around and walk away, or I will have to use force."

I catch sight of the slightest movement in my upper-left peripheral vision, then smile, relieved.

Suddenly, an orange dart rockets into the bearded man's neck, and he clutches at it before collapsing to a heap on the ground. The other guard's eyes widen in shock, and he turns and points his rifle at me. Instantly, a dart strikes him in the back of the neck, and he quickly loses balance and drops the weapon.

"Hey," I say, clapping a hand on his shoulder as he sways. "Nice shirt."

He spits in my face.

Then, the guard's knees buckle and he falls limply beside his partner. I wipe the saliva off my mask and the skin of my cheek, then glance down at the two unconscious guards. With a proud grin, I watch as Zelda descends from the watchtower, a tranquilizer strapped across her back. She lands gracefully in the dirt and hurries over to me, grinning.

"That was so exciting!" she beams.

"Nice shots," I tell her, pulling her in for a quick hug. "But hey—when you shot the first guard, how did you know it was a tranq gun, and not a real one?"

"I took it and pointed it at him, but he still fought to get it back. If it were a real gun he wouldn't have risked his life like that." We separate, and she looks me square in the eyes. "I wouldn't have pulled the trigger if I wasn't certain."

"I know you wouldn't."

"Are we ready?" asks Zelda eagerly, taking the rifle off her back.

"Slow down, tiger. We need to change, remember? And you're not taking that gun."

"Why not?"

"I'm guessing only the guards at the towers have those. We don't want to raise any more suspicions."

Zelda nods, then sets it down. "You're right. But we aren't taking those guys' guns, either."

"What if every guard has one?"

"Don't care," she replies. "No shooting people."

We drag the two guards back behind a distant rock, stripping them down to their undergarments and stealing their clothes. We stow away our first disguises in the car, then head back toward the entrance in our new attire. In any other city I'd feel terribly guilty leaving two half-naked unconscious people outdoors in the dead of winter, but the air around the volcano is so much warmer that hypothermia would be very unlikely. Plus, they weren't the kindest of gentlemen, so I don't feel that bad.

I look down at my outfit: brown pants, tan shirt, black boots and vest, and a black boxy hat atop my wild locks of hair. Zelda's is identical to mine, despite being much more baggy. She had her hair tied up in a ponytail, and it flows out from the strap at the back of her hat.

"Ready?" I ask.

"Always."

We enter, stepping into the main drag where most of the staff currently mills about. Some are off in surveillance rooms, others relax in the break room, and the rest patrol about with dutiful looks on their stern faces. The place is devoid of daylight, gloomy and depressing, a constant reminder that the prisoners here are in it for the long haul. There are chips in the floor tile and leaks coming from the ceiling, and the old lights flicker periodically.

Zelda and I make our way down the main hall toward the double doors, a big CAFETERIA sign above them. I nod at the few passersby who look like they don't absolutely hate their jobs, then subtly lean over to Zelda, speaking in a low voice.

"We have to avoid the M.O.D. at all costs. They know who I am. We can't blow our cover."

"How can I know who they are?"

"They have a crescent moon tattooed on their wrist. But you don't want to get that close to anyone. Just stay close to me."

We push open the doors to the cafeteria, finding it empty aside from the corpulent lunch lady cleaning out the trays. Surrounding the room are doors leading to the wings of cells, each with big letters from A to J painted onto the brick walls above them.

"Excuse me," I call out, approaching the lunch lady carefully. "We're new here, and we can't seem to find where solitary is."

The plump woman turns, raising an eyebrow at the two of us. "They're puttin' a couple of rooks at solitary? Must be desperate."

Zelda and I share an uneasy look.

"Top priority is held in the A Wing," she says, pointing off to our left. "End of the hall."

We nod our thanks and hurry off toward the A Wing, whispering quietly between ourselves.

"Is the guy we're looking for really that dangerous?"

"Apparently. Even the guards are afraid of him. No one's allowed to say his name."

She noticeably shudders, and I resist the urge to reach out and comfort her. After all, we are playing the part of platonic coworkers.

"Don't worry," I tell her. "I'll protect you."

"And I'll protect you."

We enter the A Wing, and we're immediately bombarded by the stench of sweaty inmates and the intense feeling of despair. I had expected Zelda to receive excessive heckling and catcalls, but shockingly, none of the prisoners even make a sound. I can feel their eyes staring into ours as each of them grips the metal bars with white-knuckled fists. We agreed it best to keep our gazes held stubbornly forward as we head toward the end of the hall, but the eerie way they stare at us with wide, unblinking eyes makes it more and more difficult to stay honest with that goal. These prisoners must be the complete lunatics.

Finally, I give in and steal a glance at one of them—and, by some crazy chance, Ghirahim stares right back.

I freeze, and Zelda stops as well. Something feels off, and I'm not sure what. Something in the way he's standing—so upright, rigid and unmoving, or rather how he looks—skinnier, paler, and with bright red eyes. Has he always had red eyes?

"Hello," he says calmly.

I swallow, ill at ease. It's almost like he's staring through me, not at me. "Ghirahim."

Behind him, his cellmate emerges from the shadows—a dark-skinned, bald, muscular man in his late twenties. He stands beside Ghirahim, lacing his fingers around the bars before closing them into fists. He, too, stares at me with those same creepy red eyes.

"Greetings, prison guard," he says. "Have you come for boss man?"

Zelda tugs at my sleeve, and I meet her concerned gaze. "Come on."

"Wait, one more question." I turn to face Ghirahim's expressionless scrutiny, squinting at him with suspicion. "Do you know who I am?"

"You're a prison guard," he responds evenly, a stale smile turning the corners of his lips. "Therefore you are my enemy."

My eyes widen. He has no idea who I am.

Zelda grabs my arm and pulls me away. "Let's go."

"Did you see that? He's completely brainwashed! He—he—" I stop, lips parted.

"What?" she asks of my frightened expression.

"What if the boss is the one who did this?"

Zelda shrugs, keeping her eyes forward. "Only one way to find out."

Once at the end of the hall, we're met with a lone guard standing in front of a metal black door. Zelda and I strut forward with feigned authority, and I greet the man with a swift head nod.

"Just got orders from the warden," I say. "We'll be taking over here."

"What?" asks the guard, frowning. "My shift doesn't end for another four hours."

"The warden said it's a late birthday present for you. You can go home now."

"My birthday was five months ago."

"Okay, a very late birthday present. Dude, are you really arguing about a day off?"

The guard lowers his gaze, pensive. "Point taken. Thanks."

He tosses me the keys and walks off.

I glance at Zelda in disbelief. "This is almost too easy."

We unlock the door, and it creaks loudly as we pull it open. Bright white walls, floors, and ceilings make up this particularly large cubical cell, with nothing inside but a bed and a toilet stuffed off in a corner. We step carefully inside, searching for signs of life, our boots clicking on the tile.

We slowly continue forward, then stop in the middle of the room as the door slams shut.

"Impostors."

We whirl around, and Zelda suppresses a gasp. Perched on his toes atop the sill of the metal doorframe, a dark-skinned man in orange pants and a white tank stares down at us with piercing yellow eyes. Red paint circles his eye sockets and frames his nose and mouth, and a pair of shark teeth jut out from the crown of his bald head in devilish fashion. A necklace of more teeth dangles from around his neck, clattering against one another as he leaps down to our level. He's tall, a good six-foot-four or so, and stares down at us with unblinking eyes.

"I've been expecting you."

I squint. "You have?"

"You spoke my name," he says in a smooth yet hissing voice, lips curling into a distasteful snarl. "I always know when a mortal speaks my name."

Zelda folds her arms, watching the strange man skeptically. "So you're a god."

"A necromancer, actually," he corrects, then pauses for a moment. "Are you two, perchance, familiar with the king of the dark world?"

I share a glance with Zelda, then nod at him. "Yeah. Yuga. We're actually trying to kill him."

Majora raises a hairless brow. "Is that so? Interesting. I suppose we have a common enemy."

"You want to him dead too? Why?"

Majora's eyes flick between us, then they darken with contempt. "There was once a Terminian tribe who spent ages summoning and hexing the most heinous souls of the dark world, gleaning the dark magic from the souls and becoming more powerful. They were called... the Interlopers.

"Those souls, however, were what Yuga used to birth the demons that are now at his command. Then one night he discovered his forces were being drained from two separate locations, Termina and Hyrule. So he left the dark world with the intent to kill—and to take back his supply.

"Amidst a torrential storm, Yuga appeared in Termina Field with an army of ruthless demons. He ravaged the Interlopers' grounds, laying waist to the villages and slaughtering the entire tribe, then stole his precious souls back before leaving for Hyrule."

I frown. "And you want to kill him because you sympathize for the victims?"

Majora cocks his head aside. "Because I was the sole survivor of the Interlopers. I was their patriarch."

My eyes widen. So, Majora's tribe had fallen victim to Yuga in the same way Ganondorf had—by plucking the souls of monsters from the dark world and enslaving them for their own purposes, ignorant to the gradually-growing angers of their true owner, Yuga. It's hard to side with Majora for being a thief, but considering the possibility that he's a powerful individual, perhaps his alliance could help in our quest to defeat Yuga and his forces.

"So how did you end up here?" Zelda asks.

He shifts his intimidating gaze over to her, and she tenses visibly.

"Well," he says in low tones. "I vowed to avenge them all. The souls had all been taken from me, however, so my power source was drained. I wouldn't stand a chance in my weakened state. Instead, I followed after him into Hyrule, killing any mortal in my path to try to steal the power from their souls. But alas, these light world mortals lacked the dark magic from Yuga's souls, so their power was hardly effective. Eventually the law of this land caught up to me, and I was arrested and immediately thrown in here on a life sentence."

He lowers his gaze, even though he remains expressionless. Majora is a maniac, undoubtedly, but the desperation he has is at least something I can relate to.

"But this…" he continues, his voice taking on a more powerful tone as he slowly removes a silvery chain from his pocket, "This gives me my power back."

Majora takes it out all the way, and my eyes fall on a large circular ruby dangling from the chain. Noticing our change in disposition, the patriarch narrows his eyes.

"You know of this relic, don't you? The Pendant of Power?" Majora's lips curl into a devious smile, and I pry my gaze away from the corrupting stone. "Don't tell me this is why you have come."

"Look," I say, holding my hands out, "we can help you. You want Yuga dead, and we can make that happen. But we just need that pendant."

His amused smile drops completely. "Oh? And sacrifice my only opportunity to escape?"

I blink. "…Escape?"

"Yes, imbecile. When I first found this pendant in an empty cell, I was able to hypnotize even the strongest of minds of my fellow inmates. I have convinced them all to band together against the tyrannical prison guards, and I shall command them to attack on the night of the full moon. This, you see, is how I will escape. I will storm the city of Castle Town, kill every monster in my path and take their strength. Then I will rip out the throat of my nemesis!"

The fury in his eyes is enough for me and Zelda to take cautionary steps back. "And then what will you do?" I ask nervously.

Lips forming into a smirk, Majora slowly steps forward, looking down at us. "Why, take over the world, of course. Stealing the souls of the entire dark army, and their king? That sounds like unlimited power to me."

Zelda catches my eye, and we silently come to an agreement.

I quickly raise my hand and fire off a beam of electricity, but Majora evades it at the last moment. He recovers to his imposing height, then slowly puts the pendant around his neck over the string of shark teeth. Seething, he intakes a breath of preparation, then releases.

"You shouldn't have done that."

Suddenly, the whites of his eyes shade to yellow, to orange, then to red, and he smiles wickedly. The white light of the cell dims to near blackness. Zelda instinctively reaches for my hand, and I step in front of her, fists clenched.

"I can't let you have that pendant, Majora."

The patriarch hisses with anger at the sound of his name. He peels off his tank top, revealing a chiseled torso with more decorative war paint and swirling tribal patterns branded into his chest and shoulders. Then, after throwing it to the floor, he lunges forward with stunning quickness.

I duck under his initial swipe and deliver a follow-up jab to his side, feeling the crack of a rib when it connects. He sweeps his leg into mine and knocks me off my feet, pinning me to the floor with his knee and winding up for a heavy punch. From behind, Zelda runs to my aid and kicks him in the back of the head, stunning him for enough time for me to scramble back to my feet.

Majora stands back up, aiming a punch at Zelda. She dodges, but doesn't react in time to evade the next jab. Majora's fist clips her in the side of the head, and she yelps, spinning with the momentum.

Infuriated, I emit a roar and outright tackle him, throwing punch after punch into the man's face in sheer rage, before he throws me off and gets back up. Zelda and I stand on either side of him, throwing jabs and kicks as he attempts to deflect and throw counter punches. Majora feints, baiting me to dodge, then throws a punch right to my face. I recoil, blinking away the pain. Zelda leaps up and executes an acrobatic kick to the side of his head, sending him tumbling aside.

She and I regroup as Majora resets his jaw with unperturbed calmness. He takes in a deep breath, red eyes locked with ours from across the cell, then raises his arms and throws them down. With the motion, Majora's fingernails grow to six-inch claws.

I gulp, and Zelda's eyes widen. Majora grits his teeth, the ruby hanging from his neck glowing bright red.

He dashes forward once more, and I meet him halfway, blocking his first three swipes with my forearms, before he spins and throws an elbow to my neck. I gag, stumbling, and he relentlessly swipes more and more, forcing me to retreat onto the defensive. I leap to the side as he claws at the space I'd just stood in, and Zelda leaps forward to smack him in the temple. Peeved, Majora growls and kicks her in the stomach, sending her backward with a startled cry.

That primal protective instinct in my heart suddenly floods my bloodstream with surging, fury-filled adrenaline, and I growl through clenched teeth before lunging at him and throwing a barrage of punches straight at his face. He ducks out of the way of all of them, save for the very last, an uppercut that sends him reeling backward.

Greedily, I close the distance between us once again, winding up for an even bigger punch. But, Majora recovers quickly and dashes forward, stabbing both clawed hands into my shoulders and lifting me up off my feet. I let out a strangled cry, prying at his hands to try and rip them out of my skin, as Majora looks up at me with a blank expression. Blood drips from my wounds down his hands.

Zelda rushes toward us once again, but Majora senses her approach. He forcibly drops me, retracting his claws before spinning around and grabbing her by the throat with one hand. Zelda struggles for breath, pulling against his grip in an attempt to free herself. I hurry to my feet and lunge at him, but he reaches out with the other hand and grabs me by the throat as well, choking me with a crushing grip.

Majora switches his gaze between me and Zelda, the ghost of a smirk on his lips. "That was fun. But I'm going to have to kill you now."

I raise my hand, trying to summon another beam, but realize it's futile when I'm injured like this. We try everything—digging our nails into his arms, kicking at his legs, abdomen, and even the crotch—but he doesn't budge. I look over at Zelda, noticing the tears streaming down her cheeks. Don't lose hope! I try telling her, even though I know she can't hear me.

I frantically look for some kind of way out of this death grip, searching the cubical cell for any tactical advantages. In the nearby corner is the toilet, right beside the small mattress inside the wooden bed frame. Then I look up, seeing the rectangular light fixture, disembodied from the rest of the ceiling and hanging from a single pole.

Suddenly, as the oxygen tank is nearing empty, a plan starts to formulate in my head. I look back at Zelda, then flick my eyes up toward the light and raise my eyebrows. She frowns, then her eyes widen, and she nods.

Summoning every ounce of strength left in my body, I stretch my body out and kick at Majora's opposite arm, forcing his hand to grow slack enough to release his hold on Zelda. She immediately jumps up and grabs onto the light fixture, pulling it down with her weight and instantly breaking it off of the pole. She and the light come crashing down atop of me and Majora, and I finally feel his grip relent. I gasp for air before stumbling over to the corner, beckoning Zelda to follow after me.

"Get on the bed," I order her; she complies, stepping onto the mattress.

With a heavy shoulder-check, I knock the porcelain toilet off its hinges, and sure enough, water spews from the pipes and starts to pool on the floor. I take my perch on the bed as well as the water trickles quickly over to where Majora stumbles to his feet in a daze. He kicks away the broken light fixture and its sparking wires, untangling them from his leg. Then, the water reaches both him and the wreckage, and right when Majora comes to and sets his eyes on us again, his muscles tighten, his teeth start to chatter, and his limbs thrash about as the electricity courses through his body.

And finally, Majora falls in a limp heap on the floor.

Zelda and I stand there, our breaths ragged, bodies fatigued, hearts hammering. I turn to her, wrapping my arms around her and pulling her close.

"That's a little lesson on conduction. I learned it from you," I tell her with a relieved smile.

"That's great. Now how are we gonna get down?"

"Good question."

We separate, and she shakes her head as if to clear it. "Since you can shoot it, can't you… I dunno… drain the electricity?"

I shrug. "Might as well try."

I bend down, putting a single finger into the pool of water. I jump at the initial shock, but then I feel it traveling up my finger and into the place it is stored deep within my body. Moments later, my power feels recharged, like a battery. I hop down onto the wet floor, looking up at Zelda. "It's safe. You can come down."

She drops down next to me. "It worked?"

I frown. "Yeah, but I feel… supercharged. Like I'm overflowing and need to release it." I turn, eyes falling on Majora's limp body.

"No," says Zelda, realizing where I'd have gone next. "You can't release it on him. What if it works like a defibrillator, and you restart his heart and he comes back to life?"

I bend down, carefully removing the pendant from around his neck and stuffing it in my pocket. Then, I look up at Zelda, my eyes softening. "I never wanted to be much of a killer, Zelda."

Zelda clamps her mouth shut, remembering the particular event I'd tacitly referenced. The night of our little breakup. More specifically, the night I had killed Sakon while trying to protect her. The night that subsequently threw me into fits of insufferable anxiety attacks.

I reach down and place my hand on Majora's chest, watching as the Triforce on the back of my hand glows in heavenly light. And then I feel it leave my body, the huge weight of the excess energy lifted off my shoulders. The patriarch's body lurches once, then lies dormant yet again. And we wait.

Majora slowly opens his eyes, groggy and confused.

I sigh. "Oh good, you're awake."

Then I knock him out.

"Oh, Link, you're bleeding!"

"That tends to happen when a maniac impales you with his super long claws."

"I can do without the sass. We need to patch that up. Here, take off your shirt."

I smirk. "Or, you know, you could take off yours."

"Why do you have to be such a teenaged boy?" Zelda says, rolling her eyes and ripping the guard's uniform off for me.

I lean against the back of the Camry, watching her as she works on a makeshift tourniquet for me, relishing in the feeling of her soft skin against mine. When she ties it off for good, her eyes linger on my bare torso for a considerable moment, then she looks up at me through her long lashes, blushing. "There. All better."

"Thank you," I tell her earnestly, cupping her face gently. The skin on her cheekbone seems to be taking on a purplish hue, where Majora had struck her. For that reason alone I was willing to let him die. "And thank you for helping me. I'm really sorry I let him hurt you."

"You did great, Link. There was nothing you could have done. He was too quick and powerful. Besides, I can take a hit once in awhile."

"I will never let you take another hit, Zelda," I say firmly, looking her square in the eyes.

She only smiles.

I lean forward and kiss her gently, quickly, then stand up and lead her to the backseat. I open the door and take out the harp, handing it and the pendant to her.

"Wow," she says, taking the instrument and the relic from me.

"What?"

"I mean, it's only been a few days, and here we are. We already have the key to the Master Sword."

"We make a pretty good team."

She carefully inserts the ruby into the third and final slot in the harp, watching the sliver chain dissolve into thin air. The trifecta has been completed, with the emerald on the left, the sapphire in the middle, and the ruby on the right. We wait.

Nothing happens.

"Um," I begin, clearing my throat. "Okay. So I guess that's it? We're off to Faronville now?"

Zelda frowns, holding the harp out in front of her. "I… suppose. That's weird, though. I was expecting something else to happen."

And when Zelda shakes the harp with frustration, she gasps upon finding that it has transformed into a magnificent golden longbow.

"Whoa."

"Whoa," I agree, blinking.

We stare at it, studying its intricate etchings and elegant craftsmanship, and then Zelda decides to try it out. She moves into a natural stance, then draws the string back. We both are surprised to find out that an arrow of golden light materializes out of thin air. She aims at the central building of the prison, holds her breath and closes an eye, then looses the arrow. It flies through the air at an incredible speed, burying itself dead center in the O of the Death Mountain sign. She shot that as if she's been practicing her whole life.

My jaw drops in awe, and Zelda turns to me with wide eyes.

"Oh my gods!" she beams, shaking it again to transform it back into the harp.

"You… how did you…" I trail off lamely, pointing at the distant arrow with a dumbfounded expression.

Zelda only shrugs, an excited smile on her face as she looks down at the instrument-slash-longbow with adoration.

"I have no idea. Does this mean I'm a superhero now, too?"

I grin, but can't keep the amazement from my eyes. "Sure. But you know that in all the movies the guy with the bow and arrow is the absolute lamest one, right?"

Zelda smacks me.