Chapter 6

More to lose

Warnings: characters discussing death of family members, asthma attack (sort of)

"Ganondorf killed my father," was the beginning of Link's story, and Nabooru's heart sank.

Oh no. Not again.

"I'm sorry." She wasn't even sure what she meant by that. Sorry for your loss? Sorry for your luck? Sorry if you thought that would make me want to help you?

He met her eyes. "I'm not looking for sympathy."

"All right. Why don't you tell me what happened?" She waited, but Link seemed to be struggling. "Your father, was he a trader?" she asked, to get him talking.

That was a story she knew well. Hylian merchants had a reputation for causing trouble in the western ports, where their language and customs were less widely understood, and people less welcoming of their presence. The king would insist he had never started a fight, but he certainly knew how to finish one.

Link seemed confused by her question. Then something clicked.

"Oh, not my Hylian father. Never knew him," he said matter-of-factly. Right. Zelda had mentioned he was raised by the forest children. And that general yesterday had said something about a guardian spirit.

"You mean the Great Deku Tree," she realized.

Link took a small object out of his pack, cupped it in both hands. A brilliant green stone, half-encased in tendrils of gold that curled like the fronds of a fern.

"This is Kokiri's Emerald. It was buried deep in his roots… there was only one way to reach it."

Nabooru muttered a curse.

"Hidden like that, we should've known it was never meant to be found." Link was talking mostly to himself now. The stone's reflection shimmered green in his eyes. He blinked hard, hurriedly put it away. "The village depended on him. For protection, guidance, even medicine. Now there are monsters roaming around, and everyone's scared to go outside." A look of shame crossed his face. "I should be there to help."

"You are helping," Zelda tried to reassure him. Schooling herself into a picture of royal poise, she faced Nabooru. "Lord Darunia will tell you how King Ganondorf tried to obtain their Spiritual Stone as well. His aim is clear."

She wasn't sure that counted for much. Everyone knew the Goron leader hated them, for reasons that didn't entirely make sense.

"Tell her the rest, Link," Zelda urged.

He tried to pull himself together. "Right. Where was I? Leaving the forest. So I crossed Hyrule Field. It took a week or two—the longest trip of my life, back then. I came here to Castle Town, and that's where I met my friend Malon." For the first time, there was a hint of a real smile on his face. "Her dad owns Lon Lon Ranch. Have you heard of it?"

"Of course I have. Good horses. Good people." Mostly.

He nodded. "Malon's really nice. She helped me sneak into the castle."

"Sneak in?" Nabooru repeated with an incredulous sniff. Either he was amazingly stealthy, or the guards here were amazingly incompetent. Her bets were on the latter.

"It's a long story, but yeah. And then…" His eyes drifted back to the princess, and his smile fell flat.

"You met me," Zelda filled in when he seemed lost in thought again. She glanced aside with an expression that was not quite regret, and added, softer, "for the first time."

A distracted nod. "Right."

She had to get him out of here, away from Zelda's expectations and Impa's watchful eyes.

"Kid, let's go for a walk."

They went out to the fields west of the castle, where farmers were taking advantage of the sun to harvest the last of the spring barley. The valley hummed with the rhythm of sickles and scythes, bleating oxen, chatter and songs and tired groans. Carts piled high with sheaves trundled down the road south to the Levain county mills or further west to Groslan Ford.

A little creek wove between the terraced hills, and they wandered along the bank while they talked. Link was much more relaxed once they left the castle behind. That made two of them.

It was a wild tale if there ever was one, complete with monsters, fairy queens, a legendary sword, and yes, time travel. He seemed sincere. At the end he presented his proof: the golden triangle mark on the back of his left hand.

She tried not to grimace when she saw it. "That's an interesting tattoo, kid."

"You don't believe me." He sounded disappointed, but not surprised.

Nabooru sat down on the riverbank. He joined her. Though his eyes seemed to have forgotten he was a child, his fingers remembered; they wriggled in the sand.

"You're a loyal friend to the princess," she said. "You supported her when no one else would. So I don't think you're just in this for personal gain."

"But you don't believe me."

"I think you had an intense dream, and you wanted it to be real. She wanted to be right. You two went back and forth and you convinced yourselves."

"I couldn't dream—why would I want that to be real?" he protested. He tore off his hat, looked into it like he was expecting something to be inside, shook it out and put it back on. Took a deep breath. "You have to defend him to save Parapa. That's what Zelda said." He caught her eye with a gaze too familiar for comfort. "But you hate him, I know it."

Her mouth twisted in a subdued smirk. There were a lot of reasons she doubted his story. None of them had anything to do with her personal feelings toward Ganondorf. Which were… complicated.

"What can I do to prove it to you?" He reminded her a lot of Zelda just then. Earnest, imploring. Relentless.

"Look kid, I get it. He killed your father and messed up your village." She was still struggling to picture it. (She was still struggling to picture a lot of things.)

"This isn't about revenge," Link insisted.

"All right. Doesn't matter. I'm going to save Parapa whatever it takes." His mouth opened, baffled and indignant, but she stopped him. "Whoa, kid. You've got a choice here. You can be a good boy and do exactly what Princess Zelda tells you—see where that's got you so far."

He was scowling at her now. Yeah, she thought. I can see right through you.

"Or you can start thinking for yourself. Realize you have nothing to gain but the satisfaction of everyone knowing you were right about Ganondorf. Except, he's not here. Parapa is, and she has everything to lose."

Link stared at his boots. "I don't want her to die, or anything. I don't want anyone else to die."

"Then go home. Have you been back since all this started?"

The question caught him off guard. He shook his head.

"You want to, but you feel like you can't. Right? Ask me how I know. But you're holding on to all the wrong things. They need you there, you said so yourself. Forget the trial. Go, and don't look back."

"What about Zelda? I have to protect her."

"The only thing Her Highness needs saving from is herself. If she and her father won't swallow their pride and apologize, people are going to die. You think you're helping, but you're not." He tensed, and she tried to make her voice gentle because she knew, as well as anyone, how hard it could be to let go of your ideals. "There's nothing more you can do right now."

His shoulders drooped. "Would things be different if it was him locked in that tower?"

"Heh. That's a dangerous question."

"Yeah." He was back to playing in the sand, digging out a circular trench and piling up a lumpy mound in the center. The red clay of the bank made his moat look more like a pool of lava.

She looked out over the water. A family of ducks bobbed along with the current. She almost envied them. So carefree. Until they became someone's dinner.

"When you have a powerful and not very forgiving leader," she said at length, "there will be some who support him no matter what, because the king can do no wrong. People like Impa."

That last part ruffled his feathers. "Not her. It's true a lot of the king's advisers go along with whatever he says, but she's different."

She turned away so he wouldn't see her sneer. "Guess I don't know her like you do."

"There must be some people in your country who criticize Ganondorf behind closed doors."

"Right. But it can be hard to tell who's a true believer, who doesn't know, who knows well enough to be afraid. In the middle of all that maybe there are some who would like to see things change… but they have to walk the line. Wait for their moment."

Holding his hand like a knife, he scraped the sides off the mound, forming a terraced tower. "People like you."

She was beginning to feel like a hypocrite. What had she really expected Impa to do? She might hold an important position in the court, but in many ways she would always be an outsider. It was the king's favor that kept her where she was. How long would that last if she tried to defy the Chancellery to help a Gerudo?

Even so, she could have shown a little mercy to Parapa. She could have been honest with me.

No time to think about that now.

"Trust me, every time I have to say 'our great King Ganondorf,' I want to go wash my mouth out," she said. Those words, too, were bitter. It hadn't always been that way.

"I do trust you." He pinched the top of the sand tower into a fierce point. "But I can't forget what he did."

"Because if you do, and you're the only one who knows, it'll be like the whole thing was a dream."

A long sigh. "I'm going to testify. If you don't believe me, you don't."

She laced her fingers, thumbs tapping together. "All right. Let's pretend for a second that I do."

She tried to imagine being thrust into adulthood before you were ready, watching your world come apart, fighting to save whatever you could without really understanding, only to have everyone forget it all. Then watching it all happen again, powerless to stop it.

Yes, actually that wasn't hard to imagine at all.

"You know what, kid?"

"Link."

She glanced sideways at him. "Hm?"

"My name is Link."

"All right, Link. I'll never know what you saw in the future, but I lived through a war too. Everybody I know lost someone. Parapa's older sister died at Kakariko Gorge." She paused for a breath. "I was raised by my aunts because my mother was killed when I was a baby."

"Oh," said Link. "Um. I'm sorry."

"Everybody's sorry. We're all sick of watching people die, right? Well, put yourself in my shoes for a minute. I can't do anything about your future that would have been, but someone I love is in danger now. I can't let her get hurt again."

"It's the same for me," he said, a bit less certain than before.

"Not quite. Zelda has a whole army to protect her."

"An army that failed her before."

"You took care of that already. Her father's listening to her now. They're on high alert. Did she ask you to stay on as her personal guard?"

He bit his lip, sullen. "No," he admitted.

"I want you to imagine that one of your friends is a prisoner in another country. Truly helpless. You, the only thing between them and certain death." She spotted an opening. "What if it was, what's her name? Malon."

Bullseye. Link cringed, tiny painful spasms around his eyes.

"It very well could be, you know. That ranch is near the border. If another war starts, you think she'll be safe?"

He tried to shake his head, looking for an out, some way to have his justice without sacrificing anyone. She remembered that last gasp of denial, the moment you realized the price was too high.

"It would be my fault," he whispered.

Nabooru let him think for a little while. She started to pop her knuckles one by one, caught herself halfway through. (A bad habit, Auntie always scolded her, but it hadn't made her joints go stiff yet.)

"You didn't ask for this," she said. "Neither did Parapa. It's got to stop somewhere. Do you understand?"

He mulled over that, staring at the back of his hand.

"Suppose it was all just a dream." He parted with every word reluctantly at first, but then something shifted and the rest tumbled out in a landslide, "Zelda would still be right about Ganondorf. And her father would still only care about this mark, not the truth… because the Triforce is a myth, whether it's real or not."

He was starting to come around.

"This isn't a tattoo, though."

"Are you sure?"

"How could I get a whole tattoo and not remember it?"

She snorted. "You're a kid after all."

He reddened and grumbled softly, which only proved her point.

They sat for a while watching the river. The duck family returned, waddled out onto the shore and settled there for a while until a passing wagon scared them away. A few minutes later a barge full of young men rowed by and her head turned to follow them, dazzling smiles and bodies like bronze statues and dark braided hair shining in the sun. They shouted a greeting in some Lanayran dialect Nabooru couldn't quite understand. She winked and gave them a little wave in return. One of them dropped his paddle in the water. His friends laughed at him as he chased it.

I love summer, she thought, then immediately felt guilty for lounging in the sun flirting with cute farmhands while Parapa's life was in danger. She told herself that wasn't fair. She shouldn't have to feel guilty for a moment's happiness. They should both be out here enjoying life, not re-fighting old wars.

She didn't wave at any more boats.

"Sometimes I wonder if it was a dream," Link admitted out of the blue. "Other times I wonder if this is the dream."

"That's… yeah." She let out a long sigh. "Yeah. It's real, though. You're not going to wake up back there. You'll learn to believe that, after a while."

He gave her a questioning look.

"Maybe something did happen to you in the temple. I don't know about any gods' relics, but there's plenty of old magic in this place. I've seen some weird things." More likely he was just trying to make sense of his loss, but that could make you see weird things too. "Whatever it was, you're home now. This is the time you have to live in."

Link took his hat off again. He was quiet for a long time. "You're right," he whispered.

She wanted to ask if he still meant to testify, but decided not to push it. Not yet.

"So, were there any Gerudo sages?" He froze. "There were?"

He returned to the sandcastle, forming a bridge across the moat. "There was one," he said softly. "I really don't want to talk about it."

"All right. But I wouldn't tell Ganondorf, you know."

He looked startled. "It's not that. I don't want to tell anyone. I mean, would you want to know, if that was your destiny?"

"Living in a temple doesn't sound half bad. It would be nice and quiet. But…" She tried to imagine spending the rest of her life and afterlife watching over some mystical sealed door. "On second thought, guess I'd rather not have that hanging over me."

"It doesn't matter." He squashed the tower, wet sand oozing between his fingers, smoothed it flat again. "It's in the past. Or it will be, someday."

Nabooru picked up a flat rock and skimmed it across the river. It hopped six or seven times, trailing a stream of sparkling ripples, and finally sank near the other shore.

"The past does matter. It's where we come from," she said.

Link tried to imitate her, but his rock hit the water at the wrong angle and went under. "That's true. But sometimes—" He tried again, with the same result. "Sometimes all that's left is the future. Like you said. We have to go on living."

"Yeah."

His third attempt managed one short hop. He laughed, shaking his head. "I guess that's the best I can do."

Link trailed behind Nabooru as they neared the castle gates. He thought of her at the Spirit Temple, her quick laugh and casual disregard for danger, how readily she had trusted him when she was a rebel defying her king and he was just a strange kid with time on his hands to help her. Tried to reconcile that memory with the shrewd politician, the grieving daughter, the woman who winked at handsome strangers.

Sixteen. She was sixteen when she took command of the fortress. Younger than he'd been when he fought Ganon. There was no going back to childhood for her. But she had found a way to go forward. This Nabooru still had years of life and possibility ahead of her.

He would protect her too.

A commotion at the rear door of the barracks caught their attention. Two soldiers dragged a florid, sputtering man out by his elbows and threw him into the road. He wore only breeches and a threadbare undershirt; they had taken his uniform. He staggered to his feet, shaking his fist and spewing vulgarities at them, but they slammed the door in his face.

A crowd of onlookers had gathered in the road. Nabooru tapped a stable-hand on the arm and asked him what was going on. His mouth opened and closed a few times before he managed to reply, "The warden, ma'am. Lady Impa had him dismissed. Something about, um, unseemly conduct."

"He was mean to the Gerudo lady," a woman behind him piped up, then realized who she was talking to and gulped.

Nabooru's hand twitched, knuckles cracking. Amber eyes stared hard at nothing. She turned sharply and headed into the castle.

Link ran after her. "If there was something bad going on, I'm sure Zelda didn't know!"

"You would defend her."

"No, I… she's been saying all along that we should let Parapa go. Impa told us she didn't know anything, and Zelda thought it was wrong to hold her hostage."

She stopped and looked at him. "Hmm," was all she said.

He swallowed hard. "I'm the one who said she was too dangerous," he admitted. "Look, I'll find out exactly what happened and—"

"Parapa told me enough."

He faltered.

"Now Impa's trying to make it seem like she cares. But she'll use a truth-stone… never mind." Nabooru started walking again.

They passed through the hall into the inner yard, both lost in their own thoughts. Though he wasn't ready to admit it to anyone yet, in his heart he was beginning to think Nabooru had a point. Maybe he should just go home. But he had a feeling Zelda and Impa wouldn't see it that way.

"Are you meeting up with her, then?" Nabooru asked.

"Not right now. She told me she was going to visit Princess Ruto and her father." He would have been welcome to join them, but he needed some time alone to think.

"King Zora's here?"

"Since last night. And Darunia too. They're going to speak out about Ganondorf's threats against their people." Because I asked them to. It had seemed like a good idea at the time.

"It's the event of the season," Nabooru muttered with a frown.

He wouldn't be able to change their minds now. Still, he knew it was his story, his Triforce mark, that would spur the Hylian nobility to action. Without him, there would be thoughts and prayers and maybe a speech or two, and then they would go back to worrying about their own problems.

"I've got a few things to take care of," said Nabooru. "See you around, Link."

"Yeah. Take care."

She paused and looked back at him. "Think about what I said."

"I will."

When she was gone, he made his way back through the garden with its fountains, around the massive tower where the king and his throne room were, and out of the castle. The guards nodded at him as he crossed the drawbridge. His feet traced the path back to the little inn where he'd been staying for the past few months. He threw his gear down beside him on the bed and leaned against the wall with a heavy sigh.

You're holding on to all the wrong things.

Part of him was aching to go home. True, he wanted to be near the castle in case something happened, but the king's army was there, and it had been months with no sign of a threat. Was that really his only reason?

He took out Saria's ocarina again. Stared at it for a long time. With shaking hands (why?) he brought it to his lips and started to play her song.

He stopped after three notes.

Maybe tomorrow.

Ruto darted around the rim of the blue-tiled fountain, a stream of silver bubbles trailing in her wake. She burst out of the water, turned a flip in the air and landed with a splash. Her father and Zelda clapped as she took a bow.

It wasn't quite as deep as their pool at home, and it smelled a little funny, but she supposed it was nice of the king of Hyrule to build this thing so her father could visit when he wanted. None of the other kings had ever thought of it. Anyway, her father told her to be appreciative, and not to complain about the bland fish. (Hylians overcooked everything.)

She hopped out to sit by Zelda, who was splashing her bare feet in the water.

"Why don't you come on in? Your dress is already half soaked," she teased.

Zelda laughed but shook her head. "I'd better not push my luck with Impa. She's in a bad mood right now."

"She has moods?"

Zelda's smile faded. "That's… rather unkind."

"You're so candid, my dear," King Zora chuckled nervously. "Of course Impa has emotions. She simply doesn't know how to express them."

"I've always found her perfectly easy to understand," Zelda said quietly.

Ruto fluttered her fins. Zelda didn't have to be so touchy over a harmless joke. "What were you doing running around the castle with Link, anyway?" she asked, to change the subject. "Let me guess. You wanted some time alone together?"

"I was worried about Impa, but… I was also trying to get him to have a little fun," she admitted (ignoring the second question.) "He's been under a lot of stress."

"So have you."

Zelda gazed into the pool as if it held answers to all her doubts. "This situation is delicate. I can't afford any mistakes."

"Did Nabooru threaten you or something?" Ruto asked with a worried frown. If that woman had even looked at her friend wrong, she was going to teach her a lesson.

"What? No, of course not. Impa and I have been working closely with her."

Her frown deepened and she crossed her arms. "Why?"

"That's actually why I wanted to see you today." Zelda gathered herself, looking from Ruto to King Zora. "This may be difficult to hear…"

Impa perched in the canopy of a large oak just down the hill from the fountain, listening to the splashing and playful chatter between the two princesses. It was about as far apart as she liked to be these days, but Zelda had asked to have this conversation without her guardian hovering over them.

The cheerful voices fell silent. Impa's brows dipped slightly as she imagined Zelda picking her words carefully, toeing the line between assertiveness and compassion. Knowing what the reaction would be regardless.

"What?!" she heard Ruto shriek. "How can you…" The rest was incomprehensible shouting, mixed with King Zora's useless attempts to calm her. Zelda's level voice, not quite apologetic, trying to explain that they would still seek justice for those hurt by Ganondorf. Ruto sputtering, asking a question. Not liking the answer. Silence again.

A minute later, Zelda appeared, walking as fast as she could without appearing to flee. Her cheeks were pale, but her face was resolute.

"Let's go," she said, without slowing.

Impa dropped silently to the ground behind her. Zelda was in no mood to talk, which was fine since she wouldn't have known what to say. There was nothing they could do differently. Still, it made her heart ache to see her at odds with one of her few real friends, all because of Ganondorf and his ambition and all these thrice-damned politics. (She thought, as if politics had not been her life for the better part of a decade. Well, it was better than the alternative.)

Zelda slowed for a minute, a tremor running through her small body. Impa reached to out offer a comforting pat on the back, but the princess collected herself and started forward again, and she found herself grasping at air.

Agahnim stood at the edge of the mesa, lifting his hands to the sky and chanting in a language Ganondorf had never heard before. Which in itself was an impressive feat.

"You really think this fellow can draw enough power to teleport us all the way to the arena?" he whispered to Koume.

She chuckled. "He's got his own source of magic. Different from ours. He calls it…" She paused, her voice heavy with reverence and a hint of envy. "A Fused Shadow."

"Hmm. You have no idea where he found it?"

"It's a mystery," said Kotake. "He says it's very old. Older than my sister, even!"

"We're the same age," Koume grumbled.

A strange blot appeared in the sky. Disjointed rectangles of black unfolded to reveal a void deeper than a starless night, geometric lines of maroon light snaking through it in seemingly random patterns. At the center, a swirling circle.

Agahnim faced them, looking pleased with himself as he gestured toward the portal. "My king."

"You first," said Ganondorf, in case the thing was faulty. Or some sort of trap.

"As you wish." Agahnim braced himself and sprang off the cliff. His body seemed to stretch and evaporate into little black droplets as the portal sucked him in. There was a low rumble, like distant thunder, and he vanished.

Ganondorf stepped up to the ledge, tilting his head to examine the thing. Interesting. It was indeed like no kind of magic he'd ever seen.

He jumped. His stomach flipped as gravity inverted. (Highly unpleasant.) The world seemed to compress into a thin line. There was a flash of light, a moment of intense cold, and then he found himself standing in a walled courtyard. Before him, a crumbling staircase led up to a coliseum ringed by six towering pillars.

The architectural style of Shifting Sands Arena—or Arbiter's Grounds, as it was more commonly known to the rest of the world—indicated that the main structure was well over a thousand years old, with the outer buildings added over time by several different cultures. Built on the foundations of an even more ancient temple whose purpose was long forgotten, it had earned infamy for a mass execution that had taken place under the first Hylian dynasty. A group of rogue mages, accused of using ancient, time-twisting magic in a bid to conquer the kingdom, had their souls ripped from their bodies and sent straight to the underworld. A cautionary tale for those who would raise their hand against the ruling classes.

(Parapa would say he needed to get his head out of those morbid old history books and learn to appreciate the present. If she were here.)

The place was supposedly cursed, and it looked the part—a maze of broken buildings half sunk in the sand, overgrown with dried weeds, vipers slithering between the rocks. Fetid air rushed out when he pulled open the front doors. They descended a long ramp to the entrance hall on the arena's ground floor. Koume flew ahead, lighting the torches along the wall with a flick of her hand. Sand spilled through cracks in the walls, and in the first room they entered a large section of the floor had collapsed into a sinkhole. As they picked their way across, the ground trembled and he heard what sounded like the beating of massive wings, followed by a screech.

"Ah," said Kotake. "He's hungry."

They reached a cavernous hall lined with pillars in the shape of idealized, armless human figures. Four golden braziers at the far end flickered with pale blue ghostfire, revealing walls covered in intricate stonework, and more interestingly, several different kinds of ancient glyphs. He wished he had time to study them.

A rush of air, something moving in his peripheral vision. He whipped his head around, peering into the shadows, and though his face remained calm, one hand slid to the dagger in his boot. Perched atop one of the statues was a gigantic feathered thing. It spread its wings, displaying magnificent black, white, and scarlet plumage, and let out another shriek.

A slow grin spread over his face. "What have you done?"

"I call him the Helmaroc King," Kotake said proudly. "Strong and clever, this one, and fast as the wind. He could be at Castle Town by nightfall tomorrow."

"So that's your plan."

"Is the king pleased?"

His smile faded, and he folded his arms. "I will be, as soon as Parapa is safe. Then I will decide how to move forward." He pursed his lips. "I would prefer to tell her as little as possible about… all of this, but some explanation will be in order."

His mothers grimaced. They were the ones who had introduced him to Parapa, but somewhere along the way the relationship had soured. He did not relish the thought of being stuck in a cave with the three of them.

All the more reason to plan his return as soon as possible. He made up his mind. He would go home to Pav Sheram, make his grand entrance, lift the people's spirits with a festival of some sort. Ride that wave of triumph from the Miqahmah foothills to the south sea. Plenty there still supported his ambitions, or would, when they learned what the Hylians had tried to do. The elders would come to see things his way soon enough, and even Nabooru would not be able to oppose him then.

But first things first.

Agahnim was across the room, peering down the side corridors. He leaned down and spoke in a low voice. "You played your part well back there. Did you see? He was glad to have us fighting among ourselves."

"I've never liked him much," said Kotake.

"He's our best option for now," said Koume.

"Unfortunately," Ganondorf agreed. He stepped back, putting a little distance between them. "Not a word to Parapa about his 'prophecies.'"

"Understood."

"We will camp here tonight, and the three of you will depart in the morning. Agahnim will wait at the Spirit Temple."

"As you command," said Koume, but her voice was heavy and her eyes darted to her sister's. Of course Kotake asked, because she was always the one to let worry for her son overpower respect for her king.

"What about you?"

"I will have him create a portal to Mem Kahajri, where I will acquire a mount and ride east. If the bird is as fast as you say, you should have no trouble catching up to me." If not, he would go alone. No room for error this time.

Her mouth came unhinged, but she remembered herself enough to choke back her objections. She closed her eyes, exhaled, opened them again, did not quite look at him. "As you command," she echoed.

Ganondorf allowed a flicker of warmth though his stern visage, though it was the warmth of an ember in the wind, brief and untouchable and wrapped in a deeper chill. "You're always trying to protect me. But the time for that has passed. It is your loyalty I require now."

"Someday," said Koume, "when you have children of your own, you'll understand."

He grunted and stalked away, mounting the stairs between the torches. As he approached the rear door, a prickling chill crept over his skin, a telltale sign of spirits growing restless. Curving the palms of his hands to form the sign of the Mother, he hummed the Requiem, low and soft, until they quieted.

His own soul would not be so easily pacified.

The next room was small and round, with some kind of odd gear mechanism in the middle of the floor. Another curiosity. He made up his mind to come back here someday. For now, it was as good a place as any to pretend to sleep. He settled against the wall with a long sigh.

Koume pursed her lips, watching Ganondorf disappear into the next room. "He takes after you."

"Me? You're the temperamental one!"

"Hmph."

Kotake picked at a loose stitch on her sleeve. "I'm worried… that wizard seems to have gained his favor so quickly."

"Ganondorf knows how to keep his enemies close."

"Until he misses the one right under his nose." Every tug was only making the loop bigger. She gave up with a sigh. "Do I need to remind you that we're here because he almost walked into an ambush?"

Koume grimaced. "You can't fault him for not anticipating this. Everything was going to plan until the last second."

"Was it?"

Their heads turned as one toward Agahnim.

"The trident, and the city that fell from the sky," Kotake whispered. "All before he was born. The king of Hyrule was a babe in arms then. If this was not the God's prophecy…"

Koume's eyes narrowed. "We won't make the same mistake again."

Zelda entered the foyer as Impa was handing a few coins to a young man in livery, just in time to catch the end of their hushed conversation.

"…inform me promptly if our friend tries to approach the visitors again. That will be all."

When he was gone, Impa looked straight at her. She knew she'd been watching. Zelda guessed the "visitors" were Nabooru and her companions, but she wondered who her guardian was spying on.

She would figure that out later. Straightening her wimple, she approached with what she hoped was a humble expression.

"I wish to apologize for my irresponsible behavior this afternoon. I risked offending Lady Nabooru, and caused poor Sir Loren a great deal of trouble."

Impa's gaze shifted, beckoning her to walk with her. "You've learned some self-awareness, and that's good," she said in a gentle but stern voice. "A person of your station must always be careful of the message their conduct sends. Alas, that is the trade-off for a fine education, a full belly at every meal, and a new dress for every occasion."

Zelda looked down at her soot-stained gown with a fresh wave of shame.

"With that said, I have reason to believe Lady Nabooru would not be offended by your impulsive chimney-climbing." Impa tried to sound lighthearted, but her laughter died in her throat. At first Zelda thought she was angry, but the way she blinked hard and worried her lower lip seemed like something else.

(Maybe she wasn't always perfectly easy to understand.)

They headed for her father's study. He was expecting good news after their talks with Nabooru, but Zelda didn't feel like they had much to show for it. Once again, she was relying on Link. He was very good at changing people's minds.

He might have met his match in Nabooru, though. On this point she seemed about as movable as the Colossus she frequented. And one thing she'd said in particular was still troubling Zelda hours later.

"Are you thinking about Ruto?" Impa asked.

Zelda looked up, surprised. It was rare for Impa to misread her. "No, I expected her to react that way. In time she'll forgive me. But I was wondering… why did Lady Nabooru call my father a tyrant?"

Impa stopped. They were maybe ten steps from the study door, but Sheikah advisers were sworn to speak the truth, and kings were supposed to listen to their wisdom even when it offended them, and the walls were thick, anyway.

"Is it because of something that happened during the civil war? I know some people hold grudges against us for everything that happened back then. But the Gerudo were my father's allies, weren't they?"

Impa licked her lips and shifted from foot to foot. Sweat beaded on her forehead.

Zelda frowned. "Are you all right?"

"At the end of the war, when the old king—" Impa began, and then she choked. A violent cough shook her body, and another, and another, forcing all the air from her lungs. She dropped to one knee, clutching at her throat. Zelda rushed to her side, caught her as she collapsed. Her limbs twitched. She still couldn't inhale. Her lips were turning blue.

"Father! Someone! Help!"

Even as she cried out the study door burst open and the king came running, pink light gathering in his hands as he wove a frantic spell.

"On her back," he said. Zelda rolled Impa over and he poured the light into her open mouth. She went limp, then finally a breath rushed in.

She sat up, still coughing but managing a few ragged breaths between. Ground the heel of her palm into her forehead and said a few words she would have scolded Zelda for.

"Should I fetch a doctor?" Zelda asked.

Impa shook her head no.

"I will take care of her," said the king. "Return to your room."

"But—!"

"Now, Zelda."

Impa seemed to be recovering, so she didn't try to argue any more. She took her time leaving, glancing back over her shoulder all the way.

When Zelda was gone, the king helped Impa to the study and settled her in a chair. Anger and worry clashed on his face, but the latter won out in the end.

"Are you all right?"

Impa nodded, rubbing her throat. The pain had subsided enough for her to speak, but her voice was still hoarse. "That was kind of Your Grace. You could have let me suffer."

His brows drew together. "I'm not that heartless. But you… what were you trying to do? You knew what would happen."

"I probably wouldn't have died," she said with a shrug.

He sighed wearily and went to a side table, where a silver pitcher was arranged on a tray with crystal goblets. "Would you like some water?"

She met his gaze and held it until he looked away. "No. Thank you."

The king poured himself a glass. He leaned against the wall by the window, gazing down at the city, a thousand lamplights glowing in the dusk. "Back then, you know why I did what I did."

"Yes." Maybe better than he did. She rose and joined him, fingertips dancing like a nervous spider on the sill. "Perhaps it is time Zelda knew as well."

"Not yet."

Impa leaned closer than anyone else would be allowed to, spoke in a hushed voice. "She is a clever girl, Paraken. Her mother's child through and through. But she will not be a child much longer. She will be ill-equipped to take the throne if you continue to shelter her from our past."

He drew back from her, and a curtain seemed to fall in his eyes.

"You go too far, Impa. It's your job to protect her. I will teach her how to rule. Is that understood?"

She bowed, and the hand tucked behind her back clenched in a shaking fist.