A/N: I hope you don't terribly mind the short chapter. I'm trying to release smaller segments more frequently until I feel it's been made clear that my break was a one-time thing, and regular work is fully resumed. This and the next chapter will be joined when I go back and edit everything.
Chapter 20
Outside the car, the sparse scenery blended together in a haze of tan and gray as Link and the Sages traveled south. He gazed across the passing dunes as he puzzled over the Triforce.
The stories all agreed that a completed Triforce would grant the bearer any wish. He had heard no hint of any boon a single piece of it would bestow. It certainly wasn't making him any more courageous.
It blazed on his hand in a near-constant, fiery tingle. He could touch—however vaguely—the minds of Ganon and Zelda. As for his connection with the Sages, he couldn't tell whether that was due to the Triforce, or some natural link between the Hero and the Sages.
If he was going to defeat Ganon, there had to be something more to it than this almost-telepathy. But however hard he focused, there was only that occasional distant fury.
He blinked. "Did y'all feel that?" A flicker of... something, like a pulsing warmth peeking out from the heart of the malice.
Irene snorted. "Kid, if you're driving on shitty pavement, you're gonna get bumps."
"I felt it too." Aghreal said. "Another Sage, breaking through Ganon's veil, I think."
Link nodded, latching onto the pinprick presence. It had the same pull as the other sages, but dampened. Like sunlight filtered through a forest canopy.
"A fighter, I feel," Aghreal said.
Link nodded. "But not Zelda." He would know if it was her. He was certain.
"Yeah, great. Not now. Look at that." Irene gestured ahead of them at a speck resolving into the form of a human.
Link took his new binoculars from the glove compartment and zoomed in. They were the cheapest model he could find, but they were good enough to help him make out a Gerudo warrior, standing at the center of the unpaved road, a scimitar in each hand.
He lowered the binoculars. "They can't be that dumb," he murmured.
"Speak up kid. Watcha seeing?" Irene said.
"Gerudo." He looked at her again, to make sure he had seen correctly. The figure's stance was wide, immobile as a sculpture.
"No shit? I thought it was a clown, standing out there in the middle of nowhere. What's she doing?"
"Just… standing there, I guess."
Irene stopped the car, throwing Link forward against his seatbelt. She snatched the binoculars and raised them to her eyes.
"Irene…"
She shoved them back so hard his finger almost jammed catching them.
"Pity to make her wait," she said.
The car rocketed forward, swerving side to side as the wheels fought for traction against the sand. Link clenched the hilt of his sword, ensuring it stayed firmly sheathed. His right hand braced against the window as his body bucked to and fro in the seat.
The Gerudo came into focus, still standing fast.
Hey! What doesn't she want you looking at?
Link whipped his head around at the sudden, shrill voice. "Who said that?" Link asked.
"What?" said Aghreal.
"Never mind," he said. "Irene, hold up!"
"This is a war, idiot. These Gerudo are getting hurt."
No time to argue. Already, he could make out the warrior's purple veil, without the aid of binoculars. He released his seatbelt and threw himself left, putting all his weight into the steering wheel.
The car whipped into a turn. Irene stepped off the gas, but their momentum had already carried them several feet sideways, skidding off the road into the loose sand. Irene growled, and the engine whined back to life. Sand sprayed up outside Link's window. The car rocked forward, then settled back to a stop.
Irene turned and punched him in the face.
"You soft-hearted, red-loving imbecile! The fuck was that? You could've-"
"Irene, if you go where they want you to go, you get mined!" he shouted over her.
In the back, Aghreal shifted forward. "Red-loving?"
A thump on the hood jarred Link back into the moment. A Gerudo stood in a three-pointed stance, right arm raised high, clutching a hammer. With a scream, she brought it down, splintering the windshield with web-cracks.
"Run!" Link said. He opened the door and rolled out onto the ground, in case a sniper was watching for his emerging head.
As he came out of the roll, he twisted to the right, drawing the Master Sword in the same motion. The Gerudo's hammer soared by his face, blowing back his hair as it passed.
He had a moment to see his companions: Aghreal sprinting away, a trio of Gerudo close behind; Irene jumping from the car as she stuffed her hand into an orange purse.
Then the warrior on the car drew her scimitars and leaped.
Link stepped backwards so he was just out of range. He aimed a horizontal strike at the attacker's head. She rolled under, and forward, forcing him back again as she regained her feet in a flurry of slashes.
Then three others joined his opponent. Together, they pinned him in and drove him backwards until he was caught against the car. He vaulted backwards onto the hood.
The lead Gerduo followed. As she crested the hood, her right scimitar dropped just low enough. Link flicked out with the edge of his sword, catching her bare arm. She cried out and staggered to a knee as blood flowed from the cut.
Around them, the Gerudo paused.
"Yes," she grunted, through an accent so thick and guttural he could barely understand. "Master Sword."
"Link, stop fucking chatting and-" Irene's demand turned to a scream.
His opponent cried out a long phrase in Gerudo, then resumed her advance with the single scimitar. She drove him off the other end of the car, where a handful more warriors waited.
He was surrounded. The perfect opportunity for a surrender. But he had to fight until actually defeated. They would not buy it, otherwise.
He pressed away from the car with a barrage of steady blows. With each swing, the sword's weight became more natural, his motions more efficient. Around him, a flurry of red hair, twirls, and flashing metal. He let it all fade into the peripheral, taking notice only when he needed to sidestep or duck.
He continued his advance for all of five seconds, when a kick to his back sent him to the ground, and a boot crushed down on his left wrist. Link threw himself in an arc about the pinned arm, attempting to throw his shoulder into the knee of the offending leg. But then another kick, straight into his stomach, stole his breath and loosened his grip on the pinned sword.
One of the Gerudo knocked the sword loose. It flew free in an almost lazy tumble. Another grabbed both his arms, forcing them behind his back until his shoulders pinched together. Metal rings closed around his wrists.
Though it had all gone as planned, he could not help but taste failure.
To one side, Irene was already captured, bound in handcuffs. One the other, Aghreal lay on the ground, blood spurting from her arm with each beat of her heart.
The handful of Gerudo opened a path, and Nabooru broke through, the crystal on her forehead reflecting off dazzling sunlight. A growl rose in his chest at the sight of her. She'd been with them the entire time. And Zelda…
Nabooru growled something in Gerudo, and the cuffs sprang free from Link's hands. "Tend to your friend."
Naboouru handed him a scrap of cloth, and a thin slice of wood that might have come from a broom handle. "Do you know how to make a tourniquette.
"No." But he took the items and knelt beside Aghreal. She lay with her eyes closed. Her brown skin had turned two shades paler.
"Wrap the cloth a palm's length above the cut." Nabooru instructed, close behind him.
Aghreal winced as he lifted the limb to slide the graying-red cloth around her upper arm, almost to her shoulder.
"This could hurt," he softly. As he spoke, he used the two ends of the cloth to tie the handle loosely against her arm.
"You said you didn't know this," Nabooru said, her tone taking on a mild edge.
"I'd appreciate it if you didn't interrupt," Link said. He inserted the stick under the wrap of cloth and began twisting, cinching the cloth down on the wounded arm.
"So I'd imagine you're in a lot of pain anyway," Link continued. "The big difference here is that soon you won't be bleeding." He'd calmed men from witless shock before. That meant demeanor and tone were more important than being understood.
The cloth was so tight now he had to lock the arm between his knees as he twisted with both hands. "If I had the potions I usually carry, we wouldn't have to bother with this at all. We'll have to see what kind of medical supplies they have when we get wherever we're going." He kept rambling and twisting.
Aghreal grunted with every turn, but then at last the blood stopped squirting. Only a slight ooze from the smaller vessels. He gave the stick a final half-turn, then tied it off.
Nabooru stared at him with narrowed eyes. "The Hero is awakening. You know, I never expected your princess to be right about all this. That does not mean I did not prepare."
She gestured, and a pair of Gerudo bound his hands once more. Nabooru began to turn away, then paused. Link followed her gaze to the abandoned Master Sword, lying half-covered in sand.
"It would be a pity to leave such a relic to the elements," she said, and walked over to the weapon.
"The Blade of Evil's Bane will not suffer you to wield it, traitor," Link said.
Nabooru turned, just enough for him to see the corner of her smirk.
And then she picked it up.
Nabooru glanced back and shrugged. "It would seem your Goddesses favor me."
