The exiles' camp, Gharan, looked out of place on the green, grassy plains of Termina. It squatted in a dent in the ground too shallow to be called a valley, and from a distance the masses of shabby round tents looked like beads spilled down the hillsides. As they approached, Zelda saw that the tents had once been painted with bright and cheerful patterns, but everything seemed mud-stained, faded and brown now, including the people.
There were not many at first – an old woman gathering mushrooms on the downward slope, then two men cutting wood, then a goatherd with his flock and staff, but soon there were more and more, and it became clear that the mess that was Gharan was far more alive than it seemed. Zelda was clinging close to Impa's side, half-covered by the woman's cloak; she told herself that it was part of her act as a poor, simple girl who had just lost her father and was almost alone in a strange new land, but the more she thought about it, the less she had to pretend, and Impa's closeness comforted her now in a way that nothing else in the world could offer. To her, everyone else was a threat. Not everyone in the camp was Sheikah, she knew, and not every Sheikah was a warrior, but she found herself unable to consider the chance that even one of the people they saw would not have meant her harm.
"We're not going in amongst the tents," Raegis muttered under his breath, whispering even though nobody was close enough to hear. He walked confidently, raising a hand and nodding in greeting to whoever they passed near, but Zelda wondered if he was nervous too. Yes, he said he had lived here for a long time, but how friendly was this place, and was he even welcome here any more?
Looking around at the dirt and grime, Zelda doubted anyone was really welcome here; it was not the sort of place people would ever want to be. It was the sort of place people wanted to get away from. She wondered why the exiles did not simply merge into the world of civilians, but from the Sheikah eyes she could see on stones along the road, and just visible through the staining on patterns of some of the tents, she supposed this was a place for people who did not want to admit that that part of their life was behind them. These people, despite whatever they had done to end up here, were still clinging on to their identities as Sheikah. Sheikah training without Sheikah restraint, Sheikah morals, the Sheikah code.
They edged around, a stone's throw from the tents at the outskirts of the camp. There had been some discussion about stealing horses and supplies, but it had been ruled out in the end; they did not want to leave a trail, and if all went well, anyone chasing them would think they were still somewhere far East, taking the long way around. That advantage was worth more than horses and supplies, and besides, horses would be no use once they started to climb the mountain, which sat only three days' walk away from Gharan. If it weren't for the steep hills that circled the camp, Raegis said, they might have been able to see the mountains in the distance.
Zelda had given brief thought to what she would say to the Gorons when she reached them, but found herself too aware of her current danger to concentrate, so she set it aside and instead recited her story over and over in her head, stumbling occasionally as she stared downward, holding on to Impa. They walked for what felt like hours, and the sun was nearly back down at the horizon before the tension overtook her and she had to lift her head.
Her first emotion was relief; looking around, she could see that most of the camp was behind them, and the tents were starting to thin out. Far ahead, the worn dirt track began to snake its way back up out of the shallow pit and out towards the distant hill. A little longer on her feet and a night's sleep, she thought, and they should be able to see the peaks they were aiming for. There was hardly anybody about now, apart from a small few dragging their tired feet home for the night. A bite of cold hung in the air, but it was warmer than the last few days, and the colour of the sky was just beginning to turn. Zelda raised her face and let the sun warm her cheeks; this could well be the last pleasant evening of autumn, and somehow she had almost missed it. At home, the harvest festival would be over, the fields harvested and the castle fires lit, spreading their comfortable golden glow all through the-
"Raegis!"
Zelda froze even before Impa's grip tightened and pulled her close. She became suddenly, painfully aware that her hood and scarf had pulled away from her face, but to adjust them now would have looked suspicious, so instead she leaned her head against Impa's side, reassured by the solid feel of the woman's armour beneath her outer clothes, suppressing her impulse to grab Impa's arm in case she needed to fight. The three all turned together.
A man in tooled leather armour approached. His hood was thrown back but a thick scarf wrapped many times around his neck covered the lower half of his face. He carried no sword, but Zelda counted at least five knives about his body, and if Impa and Raegis were any measure of a Sheikah's habits, he had at least another five hidden about him. "Don't talk," Raegis muttered out of the corner of a face that wore a friendly smile, and he pushed his own hood back as he stepped forward, placing himself directly in front of Zelda, blocking her from view. "Can you keep your voice down? I'm trying to creep," he called with a little laugh as he met and clasped wrists with the approaching danger. "Hello, old friend. How have you been?"
"I've been getting tired of telling Cecily you'd be back any day now. Were you really going to sneak through without seeing anyone?" Zelda's view of him was blocked by Raegis' red cloak, but she thought his voice was smiling. She glanced to the sides, and saw nobody else around.
"I wouldn't think of facing her empty-handed," Raegis replied, scratching the back of his neck in what seemed almost like a nervous gesture. "I've been looking for work."
A sympathetic sigh. "Have you found any?"
"Not much that pays." An awkward pause. "Don't tell her you saw me. In fact, don't tell anyone you saw me."
There was another pause, and Zelda heard the stranger shift. "Who's this?" He asked eventually. Raegis hesitated for just a moment before moving aside only slightly, and Impa made a small, subtle shrug that spread her cloak partway over Zelda. Still, with Raegis moved, she had a clear line of sight to his face, and felt it would have been more suspicious not to look at him than to try to keep her eyes down, so she raised her head and looked up at him. His eyes were the same faded reddish brown that Impa's had turned a week after her last dose of the Sheikah potion, but they did not seem unfriendly.
"A friend. A job." Raegis sounded a little strained. The stranger's mouth quirked in a knowing look that Zelda had only ever seen on the faces of adults.
"Some job," he muttered to himself, then gave a formal nod to Impa. "You have a good friend," he told her. Impa said nothing, just nodded in return.
"I'm taking them to their family at Gharwald," Raegis said. "Then… then I'll come and see Cecily. Please don't tell her I came through. It'll only upset her."
That knowing look came back; it made Zelda feel distinctly uncomfortable, like there was some unfunny joke known to everyone but her, but then the stranger rolled his faded eyes. "Sure, friend. I won't tell her." He nodded again to Impa. "Safe journey, lady. Keep that pretty little girl warm on the road."
Zelda almost rolled her own eyes at that; she was filthy, scrawny and still had half-healed scabs on her face from the insect bites she had sustained in the swamp, and besides, he had barely glanced at her.
No sooner had that thought crossed her mind than she realised he was looking at her now, with a faint frown forming on his forehead as if he was trying to remember something. His gaze flickered back up to Impa, and Zelda felt her shift, and realised that no amount of fasting, acting and disguise could fully wash the red from her eyes or the warrior from her bearing.
The stranger drew a breath to speak, but Raegis' knife pinned the words into his throat, and all that came out was a faint, surprised gasp. Raegis had already turned away before the body hit the floor. "Too smart for his own good," he muttered. "Let's go."
It would have been suspicious to run earlier with so many people around, but now it was growing dark and there were no other people to be seen except the twitching form of Raegis' friend spread across the path behind them, so Impa lifted Zelda as easily as if she were a doll, and they took to the path like startled rabbits, not slowing until they had crested the hill and were halfway to the treeline. By then it was nearly nightfall, Zelda thought in the deep, vast blue above them, she could see a darker shadow squatting beyond the woods, leaning high above them, jutting into the clouds. Snowhead.
They slowed to a walk in the cover of the trees, but did not stop. Impa put Zelda down and together the three carried on through the night, pausing just long enough for Impa to swig from the bottle of Sheikah potion she had prepared. The red returned to her eyes like a drop of ink spreading through a bowl of water, and while the other two were nearly blind, her steady stride guided them through. Gharan did not have guards and patrols like a castle town, Raegis explained, voice showing not a hint of remorse for the corpse behind them. If anyone should find the body, they would be more likely to rob it than seek vengeance, and until word reached somebody who knew and cared about him, nobody would come looking for his killer. When they did, they would hunt through Gharan first before even considering that his murderer might have gone further afield.
When the birds began to announce dawn, they finally stopped in a clearing to breathe, and with a deft flick of her wrist Impa threw a knife that pinned a squirrel to the tree it had been descending. Zelda had not registered just how weak the woman had become without her potion, but seeing her so quickly back to strength, she started to wonder just how dependant the Sheikah were on that red drink, and how much of their power came out of those cauldrons.
When she had retrieved the poor animal, Impa finally spoke to Raegis for the first time since before they had gone down into the family. "Who was he?"
Raegis, with an armful of firewood, sighed. "Just someone I knew."
"A friend?"
"In a way." Raegis knelt and began arranging the wood. "But he would have sold his own mother if he thought someone would pay a rupee for her."
"And Cecily?"
Raegis sat back on his heels, wearing a look Zelda had not seen on him before. Wistful, hopeful, sad… she couldn't quite place it, but it had the ingredients of many she had seen before. "You still don't trust me, do you?"
Impa looked the exile over. He was thin and hungry, and had passed close to home without a backward look. Whatever he said about the stranger, there must have been some kind of kinship there, or he would never have been able to get that close, and he had killed the man for looking too long and hard at the princess. He had been a shout away from the closest thing to a home the exiles had, and likely the closest thing to friends and allies he knew. If he was likely to betray them, she supposed he would have done it there.
"No, I don't trust you," she said shortly, watching the resignation sag his shoulders. She snorted, and thrust the dead squirrel towards him. "Skin this."
As gestures went, it wasn't much, but it was better than nothing, which was what she had offered him so far; it was the first time she had let him have anything to do with their food, and he was quick but meticulous, seeming to greatly appreciate the task. She watched him out of the corner of her eye all the while she was building the fire, and took the skinned creature from him afterwards to cook it, but he only leaned his back against a tree and dozed, looking just a little more relaxed than she had ever seen him before. Zelda slept too, more restfully than she had in a long time – the stress of the day and the trek through the night seemed finally to have exhausted her past the point of dreams – so Impa let them both rest until the meat was ready. She poked Raegis awake with her toe, then carefully shook Zelda awake. It had only been an hour's sleep, but they agreed they were rested enough to carry on for the day.
As she sank her teeth into her squirrel leg, Impa looked around the fire, and for the first time in a long while she allowed a small, hidden, resolutely guarded part of her heart to believe that there was a chance the three of them could make it.
Moments later, her head landed on the grass.
Raegis spat out the mouthful of meat he had been chewing without swallowing since before the others had sat down, and crossed the fire, kicking a shower of dirt over it as he did so, to prod Impa's face with the point of his knife. She did not move, nor did she move as he rifled through her clothes and took every weapon he could find, and every bottle. The Sheikah potion was in a small flask embossed with the Eye of Truth. There were only a few sips left – she had been swigging it through the night – but he drank it all, and groaned in satisfaction as a sense of strength he had not felt in years coursed through his veins, quick and smooth. He left her where she lay as he set about removing all sign of the fire, then dragged her with little care into the brambles at the edge of the clearing, shoving her beneath them, kicking her into place and taking some satisfaction in seeing the thorns leave scratches criss-crossing all over her bare face. Arrogant woman. The girl must have inflicted a sentimental streak on her. The Sheikah champion he had heard stories of would never have allowed a half-trusted stranger to handle her food, nor turned her back on him for a second to gently wake a sleeping child.
He turned back to the child in question. She had eaten less than Impa, but was far smaller, so had succumbed to the drug only seconds later. He picked her up, somewhat more gently than he had been with her protector. Was it the potion strengthening him, or could she really weigh that little? The mass of Impa's weapons now stored in his clothing seemed to add up to more than the Princess of Hyrule.
With one glance he saw that the clearing was just as it had been before they arrived, all trace of their presence gone except for the Sheikah hidden beneath the bushes. He hoisted Zelda a little higher in his arms, and turned back the way they had come.
