Chapter 14
In the end, Link did attend class. The waste of time grated on him, but drawing extra attention to himself would make escaping north to the desert that much more difficult. He only put in the least amount of effort he could get away with, though. While teachers lectured, his mind was wrapped around his plan, his packing list, probing for anything he might not have thought of, any hidden contingency.
"What's wrong?" Aghreal asked in Algebra on Tuesday. "You are doing too well to just give up."
"I am not giving up," he told her.
She raised her eyebrows.
"I'm focusing on something more important. About… the thing you figured out was going on."
She regarded him coolly, then declined her head in a measured nod. "I am doing all the assignments, then?" she asked.
"Sorry."
"I will believe that it is important, and trust you to explain when you can," she said, and that was that.
He squeezed in a few more sessions with Rusl too, despite the man's urging to wait until Saturday.
"Big test next Monday," Link said. "I'd like to train now, so there's more time to review over the weekend."
Tuesday evening, they went on an extended run that left Link's legs sore and wobbling. Thursday, Russell showed him and Desi some basic grappling techniques.
Through it all, Link wondered whether he was wasting his time with it. He would get used to using his legs quickly when it came time to go north, and if a Gerudo were trying to kill him, he doubted the scant grappling tricks he'd learned would do anything about that.
Even so, he was not about to pass up any opportunity, and Rusl was the only professional soldier Link knew. No one else could give him as good advice, not with Zelda and Nabooru absent.
When the Monday of their departure came, Link was not ready. In his excitement, he had barely slept the past night, and as he stood in his kitchen, waiting for the ride to school, he knew he would miss what had become his home. He had not even had a chance to hug Anju good-bye, and he might not see her again.
He looked once more over the note he had written for her, hoping it would be enough, but knowing that it never could. She had done so much for him, and now he was just running away, right along with Kafei. Though the man knew Link had to—Kafei had to have realized that!—he could not shake the feeling that he was doing something wrong.
Putting the distraction from his mind, Link folded the note and sealed it in a prepared envelope. His course was set. Worrying about it would only complicate things.
The ride with Irene was unusually silent. She must have sense his restlessness. She glanced his way a couple times along the way, but never said anything.
"You okay, kid?" she said when they got to school.
"Nerves," LInk said with a shrug.
"It's just a test," she said, rolling her eyes. "Don't worry about it."
Irene entered the building, and Link hung back. The minutes seemed to drag by slower than they ever had as he waited. In his head, he knew that few people would give him any attention at all, that this early in the morning no one was aware enough to find anything odd about a random boy lingering outside the building. But still he felt the pressure, the sense that someone would notice something, that he would end up in the principal's office rather than heading north.
Desi came by five minutes later. She pulled up in a pink-tinged car, waited just long enough for Link to hop in, and then they were off.
"Pink?" Link asked as he fastened his seatbelt.
"It's a cute color," Desi said, shrugging.
They drove in silence, Link staring listlessly out the window as they passed out of the city and the landscape grew more sparse. Skyscrapers turned to street-side restaurants, and soon even those fell away, leaving only the occasional rest stop or gas station, barely maintained, standing along the freeway.
Link took a moment to look over his supplies one last time. He had filled most of the space in his pitifully small backpack with meal replacement bars and bottles of water. The side pouches were overflowing with salt tablets, and he'd crammed a simple compass into his cargo pocket. He had considered finding a metal detector in case the sword was buried beneath the desert, but in the end he decided it would be more a liability than an asset.
"It's kinda too late to be worrying about your packing job," Desi said.
"There's gas stations, small stores," Link said. "I'm sure we could find something, if we needed it."
"Do we?"
"No." He zipped his backpack up again. He'd determined that on three separate occasions since Saturday morning. He was as prepared as he could be. He still wanted to check another time, though. Desi smiled as though he'd said something amusing.
He stared at her for a few moments, still trying to figure her out. Had the attack on Hyrule really been enough to cause this transformation? Had she just been pretending to be ditzy before? In the end, Link told himself that it didn't matter. She was who she was, and that was who he had to work with. He didn't know her as well as Zelda, barely even knew how to talk to her, but they were a team now.
With nothing else to do, Link leaned back and began to doze. He awoke to Desi shaking his arm. He rubbed the sleep from his eyes and look at his surroundings. Dying grass ran up to a dilapidated metal fence. Beyond it, everything died. Link could see no trace of green, no variation to the terrain at all, just miles upon miles of sand. Even the sun seemed to shine brighter, beyond the border.
"We should've brought shaded goggles," Desi grumbled.
Together, they shouldered their packs. Link pulled a pair of pliers from his and began to cut a hole in the fence large enough to walk through. They had decided early on that the car would have to stay in Hyrule. It would likely just run down out in the desert with no paved roads. It would be nice not to have to walk home.
"I'm surprised there aren't any guards or anything," Desi said.
"What's there to guard?" Link said, continuing his work.
"Dunno," Desi said. "Just seems they'd want to be guarding it."
"Don't complain about good things," he told her. There would be enough bad things to complain about as it was.
A few moments later, they were through, facing the endless expanse of the northern desert. An image flashed through his mind: a mountain towering over the world, ringed in smoke. And through the haze, a voice echoing in buried memories.
"That's such a huge hill! Do I really have to climb that?"
"The mountain is smaller than your quest, little one. I cannot force you, nor can the princess. Yet I believe you will choose to complete it regardless. Do I guess wrongly?"
But that was not now. Death Mountain had been buried beneath the sands of time, washed out of living memory. Link pointed his compass north and began to walk.
"So, where exactly are we going?" Desi asked.
"Sahasrahla said the Master Sword was north-ish," Link said, without breaking stride. There were no landmarks to navigate by, so he kept his eyes darting to the compass, checking to see he was still going north. More or less.
"Ish?"
"And a little to the left."
"What."
There was a silence for all of three paces.
"The immortal sage of legend reads webcomics?" Desi asked.
Link kept walking.
"And is this literally all the info you have? How the hell are we supposed to find anything like that?"
Link tried to shrug, but gave up when he felt the resistance from his pack. No reason to tire himself with frivolous actions.
"Well, the goddesses arranged it, you know. So I figure there'll be something. Fate and stuff."
"'Fate and stuff'? That's your plan?"
Link did not respond. There was nothing to say, really. Either she'd accept it, or she'd give up and leave. He would prefer her company, of course, but he had nothing to add that he hadn't already said.
At last she sighed. "Fine, we'll go with your dumb plan. But if we die out here it's your fault."
The first hour passed rather smoothly. The going was uncomfortable, of course, but no more than he had expected. It did not take long for his upper back to grow sore from the weight, and the shifting sand threatened to rub blisters into his feet. It almost certainly would have, had he not bought a sturdy pair of boots. They constricted his feet and allowed them little air, but even so, he was glad to have them.
The journey soon began to wear on him, however. The sun rose higher, and a sheen of sweat appeared on his skin.
"Sunscreen," he grumbled. "Of all the stupid things to forget."
"There's still time to go back and grab some," Desi said.
Link stopped and turned to look behind him. The gate and the car had both vanished beyond the horizon. If they were to turn around, sit down in the air-conditioned car…
"I think we should just deal with it," Link said. "It's not vital."
… he wasn't sure he could convince himself to try again. Each step was a struggle, now. Each yard he walked increased his urge to drown himself in the water he brought. But he only had so much. They had to be careful. They had to ration it. And they had to keep going. It was Desi's unflagging pace, more than the thought of the sword, that kept him moving. She looked every bit as miserable as he felt, but still she continued on. He suspected her thoughts moved along much the same lines.
They stopped for a brief lunch in the shade of a small dune. Lunch was what they called it, but snack would have been a better word. An apple and a protein bar, and then they were moving again. Food was another resource they had to conserve.
The winds picked up in the afternoon. At the first sign, the two travellers lowered their goggles over their eyes and wrapped clothes about their faces. Link had read how dangerous a sandstorm could be. The winds grew fiercer, scraping sharp grains of sand across their exposed hands, but it was still no true storm. He could still see the compass, although barely, and he had felt stronger winds before, if no more than once or twice.
By the time the sun finally set, Link was beyond exhausted. He dropped his pack and collapsed down on top of it, glad that the day was finally over.
"That sucked," Desi said, resting her head against her pack. It was the first she had spoken since lunch.
"Longer day tomorrow," Link said. He followed her example, not caring that he had no blanket, no mattress, nothing but his chunky pillow and a bed of sand. He was lying down. Not moving. To him, it was as good as a massage-chair made of clouds.
"Are you sure this is a good idea?" Desi asked.
No, not at all.
"What if we can't find the Master Sword? What if it's not even here?"
His mind buzzed with things to tell her, words to reassure her when he felt no more confident himself.
"I am the Hero of Hyrule," he said. "The Goddesses will not abandon me.
Desi smiled and closed her eyes. As he watched her fall into a near-instant sleep, he almost believed what he had said.
