Chapter 54: Prisoners

…

Biting wind against his exposed face. Ears filled with the endless sound of scraping. Eyes watering from the dust in his face as he looked out at an expanse of black.

Then his transportation struck a bump, and his consciousness merely ended again.

…

When Link woke again, his vision was blurry, and his eyes stung as if someone had thrown dirt in them. He could not tell where he was, only that there was torchlight flicking light on whatever surface was in front of him. He could not tell if it was a wall or a ceiling. Or maybe even a floor. His mind was a strange haze, as if he existed in a state between awake and asleep. He could not put any strength into his body, feeling almost paralyzed save for his breathing. His skin pounded with a dull throb which almost felt like pain, but he could not name where he felt it. There were also points of pressure probing across him. Voices sounded from nearby, but his groggy state rendered them little more than almost inaudible mumbling.

The sight before him moved. Or maybe he moved. Through his blurry vision, he thought he could see a human form lying flat. He could not see a face, and the human had been stripped from the waist up, revealing a pale blur of a body. Darker forms wandered back and forth behind the other body for a moment. Then a spike of red light came into view. It slowly lowered to the human in front of him.

Although his hearing was dull, he listened as the room was suddenly filled with the shrill cry of pain. The human in front of him writhed as it looked like the spike of light was pushed into his body. The cry did not sound human, but Link though he recognized the voice. He wanted to watch more, to try to understand what was happening. However, something pressed against his face, and he was unconscious again.

When Link came to once more, it was with a snort and a start as if he had been sleeping the whole time. He lay on his back with his arms and legs spread out across a hard floor. His heartbeat pounded hard throughout his head. He was reminded of waking in Talein's house. Naturally, the pain he felt was his only real cause of comparison. The ceiling he looked at was grey, warped wood which looked to be slowly rotting away. He turned his head to find stone walls on either side. When he finally put effort into moving, he managed to roll to one side and get his left arm underneath his body. He pushed up and glanced around some more. There was another stone wall near his head. But near his feet were bars, the kind found on a jail cell. He pushed himself up further until he was sitting. The movement caused what felt like a rip across his lower back on the left side, and he arched is back in hope that it would subside. When the pain calmed, he reached his hand around to the site. There was a tear in his tunic and undersuit, and he remembered who had caused it. But where he expected to find bare flesh and maybe some blood, his fingertips felt some kind of bandage wrapping. He used his other hand to feel the wrapping over his stomach. Someone had taken pains to dress his wounds. So why was he in a jail cell?

Shaking fatigue from his mind, he slid to the nearest wall. He pressed his back against it and stared up at the ceiling as he tried to put the puzzle of his recent memory together. He knew that he had taken on a pair of women who, mysteriously to him, decided to attack the mining settlement. They had hung around the Seventeen as if in ambush. He remembered being trapped at one end of the platform by those women. One had decided (he assumed) to take him on one-on-one, and then called her friend for help. He had struck the side of her head with the flat of the Lokomo Sword, causing her to fall from the platform. The second had struck him from behind, and he… what had he done? He had cut her arm, and she dropped her sword and ran. Then, when he had looked back at his friends, he had seen the archer still hidden in the locomotive's cab. She had shot—

"Cale," he finished the thought in a low voice. He felt a lump form in his throat. He remembered watching in the purest of shock as Cale had fallen down the stairs, his body as lifeless as a puppet thrown by a child. The thought sickened him, and he felt he might throw up.

As his head lolled to one side, he saw something through his cell bars. There was another cell across from him, the floor of this one covered in straw. A body lay in the middle, positioned much gentler than Link had been. He reached a hand up and clawed against the wall as he stood up. Upon seeing the body's face, he croaked out to get the young man's attention.

"Cale. Cale! Cale, wake up!"

Link could hear Cale suddenly inhale as if he had not been breathing at all. Cale sat up, revealing his waistcoat and shirt missing and his left arm in a sling. He grunted and placed a hand on his bandaged scalp.

Link stumbled to the bars. "Cale!"

Cale looked up in surprise. "L-Link!?"

"Are you all right?"

Cale's eyes passed over the cloth sling. Then he pulled it aside when he found a bandage around his whole shoulder. "I-I… I think so."

Link released the breath he held in a loud sigh. "Good," he said. "For a moment, I thought you might've been dead."

"What happened?"

"You were hit with an arrow. Remember?"

Cale frowned and looked off into space as he tried to recall the attack. When he did, his eyes widened. "Goddesses above… I was shot."

"I know; I watched it happen. You fell down the stairs. I thought they'd killed you."

Cale nodded and released a heavy breath before saying, "Luck would appeah to have it that I suhvive. Although I find it hahd to undehstand why I was shot."

Link wrapped a hand around his bars and shook them. "Probably has something to do with why we're in here."

Cale glanced around his cell as if realizing it existed. "Oh… oh, no."

"What is it?"

Cale covered his eyes with his free hand. Link watched him as he seemed to struggle with his realization, the hand over his face shaking. "The Gelto, Link," he finally said. "We've been captuahed by the Gelto."

Link thought he recognized the name, but he could not place any meaning behind it. "What are the 'Gelto'?"

Cale moved his hand to look at Link. His expression told Link that he ought to know the answer, but he shook his head. "The Gelto. They ah a race of deseht dwellehs living in the eastehn expanses of the Sand Realm."

"Were they those women who attacked the settlement?"

Cale nodded. "The Gelto have a heavily matriahch-style society. This is mostly because very few males ah bohn to the Gelto. In fact, I believe that it is supposed to be some kind of race trait that a male be only bohn every hundred yeahs oh so. But… well, it isn't the kind of thing backed up by ouh undehstanding of biology."

"So you're saying that the Gelto don't have any men?"

"Well, theah should be male membehs of society, but they ah very few. Males in Gelto society often have a harem which sehves theih every need. Oh… so I believe. Theah's so much mysticism to theih cultuah, it's hahd to tell fact from fiction."

"What can you definitely say about them?"

"Definitely? I would suhmise that we ah in quite a bit of dangeh. The Gelto who attacked the Dahk Oah Station weah likely gathering men foh procreation puhposes."

"Procreation. As in…"

"As in they will likely milk us foh… well, they will want to use us."

"Okay. Okay, that can't be too bad."

"Then they might kill us when they'ah done."

Link paused for a moment. "Except that part."

"I can't give testimony to what they might do. To tell the truth, I'd ratheh have avoided it if I could."

Sighing, Link leaned all of his weight on the wall next to him. "Well, we're here now."

"Yes. This could quite likely be a problem."

"Ideas?"

Cale gave him an uneasy look. "I think my only idea of not being captuahed has already failed."

"Hence why we need more ideas, Cale."

Cale bit his lower lip and looked away. "Right…"

Link sighed and said, "Don't worry. I'm sure we'll figure something out."

Cale nodded and looked around. When he glanced out to the left side of his cell, he pushed himself to his feet. "Link, oveh heah."

"What is it?" Link asked, walking to the other side of his bars.

"It's… it's Sello."

"Sello? Is he all right?"

The look on Cale's face told him more than Cale's response. "Not likely."

"Is he breathing?"

"Actually… he doesn't appeah to have been affected at all. He's just… lying theah. I-I wondehed what might've happened to him afteh the attack. It appeahs they found him, too."

Link tried to look around at the cells across from him, but the narrow corridor in between did not offer him more than the cells on either side of Cale, both of which looked empty. "Can you see anyone else?"

Cale angled his head to look better into Sello's cell. Then he crossed to the other side. "No, I don't. I'd have expected that, if theah weah anyone else with us, they might've spoken up by now."

Link turned to look harder at his cell. No windows, not even any sort of hole. At least, he did not see one until he approached the back of the cell. There was one hole in a corner. But, due to the amount of dried feces around the hole, Link found that this was little more than a half-hearted attempt to provide a place to relieve oneself. "Nice to see they gave us a restroom," he uttered to himself.

A metal bolt clacked somewhere outside, and Link turned to exchange looks with Cale. Cale looked down either end of the corridor before backing away from his bars. "Sound like we have company."

Link nodded. "I don't suppose you know anything about the Gelto language."

Cale glanced to one side at the sound of a woman shouting before shrugging his good shoulder. "I'm afraid my Geltoan is wohse than my Sorian." Link nodded, having experienced his knowledge of Sorian thus far.

"Balu 'anki wabin?" one voice asked.

"Than," another said. Link moved back to his bars and glanced out.

It was a few more moments before he saw someone. They were a party of five women, all but one appearing to be well in adulthood. Without their masks, Link saw that each one sported a tall, slender, pointed nose. They wore the same type of trousers that the raiders had been wearing, except theirs were more elaborately decorated with geometric dye patterns and gemstones woven into the fabric. The closest one to Link, the youngest of the group he guessed, wore a clean, red waistcoat over a pink, semi-transparent shirt. Her red hair had been left untied, revealing that it stretched almost to her knees. Her gold eyes gave Link a side-glance before indicating Sello. "Zhi," she said.

The next one to talk was much taller. Her waistcoat glittered purple in the wild light of a torch, and she wore a blue shirt of the same transparent material as the younger girl next to her. Her black hair was tied into pigtails hanging off the back of her head. She wore a gold diadem just above her brow. "Zhi dhol? Zhi tanolak max?" she asked.

She looked to the woman next to her, a woman dressed in white with very little decoration. Her red hair was braided and draped over one shoulder. "Uuuh… 'Inu nadbilunak zhi tanol," she said. "Zhi milikak ciynolot."

"'Ak Goronwan nasxwya'ak zhal 'an sayil aduro," the young Gelto explained. "'Inu safitya'ak 'anw Xili'anan milik ciynolot, 'idh 'inu haxwlya'ak zhal."

The new one to talk wore a yellow wrap over her head, similar to the warriors who had attacked the station. Her waistcoat was also yellow, and her purple trousers looked to be adorned with only a red stripe down the outside of the legs. "'Inakwint, ciynolot, zhi nadyitiblak."

The Gelto in purple looked at her, and her tone sounded annoyed as she asked, "Wabilunak 'inu nadmatik max?"

The Gelto in yellow looked a little cowed, bowing her head and stepping away. That was when Link caught sight of the glaive slung on her shoulder. "Nadda na', 'Inakwint," she said.

But the one in purple turned to her. "Zhi lwaytibiylak max?"

"Nadda ay'a, 'Inakwint," was the reply as the Gelto in yellow kept her head down.

"Bisuxan," Purple said.

"Ay'a." Link watched her turn and signal to the far end of the corridor. "Hayxwolan!"

Both Link and Cale stepped away as the group approached. Link had a clearer view of the fifth woman holding the torch, wearing the same clothing as the yellow Gelto. The purple-clad Gelto looked at Cale first. "Zhi mushak," she told the young Gelto.

"'Ayyib," the young Gelto said. "Zhi nayx saylwobak."

The woman in purple then turned to Link. "Zhi tisikak," she purred, a pleased smile on her face. Link kept silent and tried to maintain a straight face, hoping that they would leave him alone if they thought he was a threat.

"'Inu bilunak zhi lwa'in," the young Gelto said. "'Ak Xili'anan 'atsya'ak 'idu Gilto lwu'un."

"'Iduki?" Purple asked. "Xili'anan?" She nodded at him, her smile growing larger. "Coydhoysonak 'inoy. Addu 'inhayxwolak zhal 'immu zanak."

The woman with the glaive nodded and signaled to the far end again. "Hayxwolan!"

The woman in white leaned forward and said to Link, "Beliefe it o' not, this is you lucky day, Hylian." Link tensed up at the sound of Sello's bars opening. "Do you speak?"

"Yes," Link replied.

She nodded. "Good. I will examine you, then you will go to wo'k."

"Where?"

"You will unde'stand."

"Link, don't go with them!" Cale suddenly shouted, surprising the group. "Don't go! They'ah going to—AGH!" Cale backed away after the yellow Gelto's hand smashed his fingers against his cell bars.

"Don't do that," the white Gelto told him in a calm voice. "We stopped you bleeding. I do not want to do it again."

"Leave him alone!" Link shouted, surprising the group again. "I'm responsible for him! If either of them need to be hurt, then hurt me!"

All five gave Link surprised looks. Then the Gelto with the glaive asked the Gelto in white, "Zhi nagthya'ak dhol max?"

"'Inu nadbisixak," the white Gelto replied with a concerned tone. "'Inu nadlwaymoytakak caxwit. 'Inbilunak zhi sanagidh 'anw Xili'anan." She indicated Cale.

"Xilitak," the purple Gelto said. "Zhayzokan yabbid zanak."

"Ay'a, 'Inakwint," the armed Gelto said as another yellow-clad Gelto joined them. She unshouldered the glaive and held it to one side as she waited for the new Gelto to open the door. Then, she walked into the cell with her glaive held ready, poised between her and Link. Link took a step back.

The white Gelto stepped in and stopped right in front of Link, revealing him to be about half a head shorter. "You mofe, you die."

Then she leaned over and punched Link between the legs. "GAH—!" Link's voice cut out as the sudden rush of pain flooded every thought. His hands covered his groin, and he dropped to his knees. His breathing became rough, and he tried his best not to scream. He could feel his eyes well up, so he squeezed them shut.

"Xilitak," the white Gelto said as she turned around. Link felt someone reach under his arms and pull him to his feet. But he could not support himself with the pain coursing through him, so they dragged him out.

Link opened his eyes as they brought him out of the prison. The sky still looked dark, although the few stars in the sky told Link that sunrise was on its way. He managed a glance over one shoulder and found that the prison was behind a wooden door in the side of a cliff. The surrounding ground looked like bare rock with paths worn into the surface. Tents dotted the region around them, square tents of patchwork made with what Link thought looked like white leather. Cale was right; Link could not see a single man in sight, or if there was, they did not dress any different from the women. Some of them wore yellow and seemed to stand guard. The rest wore a vast array of colors and patterns and wandered around when they were not busy doing something. Link saw weavers, potters, and smiths working under tents without walls.

Link found that they were dragging him to the darker outskirts of the camp. The tents in this area were much larger and decorated with heavy-looking blankets on the outside. They dragged him to the end of a long tent and pulled him in. Immediately, the transition from the cool, dry air to thick and scented shocked Link into forgetting his pain. The interior was completely covered in a warm, orange color. Shrouds of different hues of red hung at the point where the walls met the ceiling. At the far end of the tent was what looked like a bedroom. The bed in the left corner was covered in cushions and silky-looking sheets. In the other corner was a desk which appeared to have a number of writing implements. There were a couple of lounging couches sitting across from each other in the middle of the room. Rugs were also piled in the middle of the room and under the couches. The Gelto on either side of Link dragged him to the closest couch and dumped him onto it.

Link groaned and pulled himself up the back of the couch. His breath still came out ragged, and he tried very hard not to move his legs around. He coughed.

"You'll have to fohgive the guahds," a woman's voice said in a dialect that Link only knew to come out of Cale's mouth. "A punch to the groin ensuahs that youh hands ah busy while they bring you heah."

He saw movement in his peripheral vision and looked up at the bed. He did not know when, but a young woman, probably a few years older than him, sat on the edge of the bed. She was dressed in red, but her outfit looked more like a bedsheet wrapped to cover her chest and waist. "Who-uh…" Link croaked out. He forced a couple more coughs to help clear the lump that had formed in his throat. "Who are you?"

"The one who is going to make you feel comfohtable," she answered as she rose with a smooth motion. "Captain."

Link felt his heart bounce against his sternum. "H-how…?"

She reached over to the bed and picked up a book. She held it up, showing Link the leather-bound journal he always carried. "The dialect is a little strange, but I've been reading of youh adventuahs down heah. Welcome to the suhface."

"Y-you read my journal?"

"I find I've had very little to do lately. Pehsonally, I was expecting you to stay in Whittleton. Although, in the lateh pages, you seem to think a lot about Meilont."

Link could feel heat flood his face, and he looked away. "I-I sometimes wonder… you know, how she's doing and all."

"Youh conquests would be commendable to any otheh Gelto out heah." She glanced down at the journal in her hands and gave him a smile. "Youh adventuahs, at any rate. I'm afraid that you fail in the realm of romantic conquest. Three women of the pehfect age, yet not one night togetheh."

Link gave a silent stammer, unsure how he should respond. "W-w-well… I-I think… uh…"

"Well, I suppose youh chahm lies with youh ratheh abnohmal innocence. Unless you didn't find any of them attractive?"

"N-no!" Link's shout reminded him of his pain, and he huddled his body to help suppress it.

She stopped next to empty couch and dropped the journal on the seat. "I see you'h still huht. Pehhaps I can help you with that?"

Link gulped. "I-I don't feel very comfortable with this."

"You think you might run?"

"Well… it's not like there's much to stop me."

She took a step closer. "Where would you run? From the camp? Even if you could make any significant distance, you would be lost in the deseht by noon. Youh body would dehydrate, and you would simply become anotheh skeleton in the sands. You couldn't hide within the camp, eitheh. If the guahds don't kill you, you would simply be back heah. In chains." She took another step, and Link leaned against the back of the couch. "Just relax. Pictuah me as one of youh gihlfriends. What would you like to do with heh?"

Another step. Then another. Then—

"Whoa—!" Thump. She tripped on the edge of one of the rug, fell forward, and smacked her head against the armrest. Link pushed away in surprise, but she simply rolled off and fell to the floor. He leaned forward to find that she was out cold, a small spot of blood on her dark forehead.

Link blinked in surprise. For a moment, he thought the situation would heat up more. But now that the person who was supposed to be with him was unconscious, he saw an opportunity. He thought he must still have some luck after all. After a few minutes of waiting for his pain to subside, he dragged her to the other lounging couch and set her on it carefully. He found a ribbon on her desk and used it to tie a quick bandage over the spot on her head to stop the bleeding. Then he pocketed his journal and exited the tent.

She had been right. Only one other tent stood between him and the open desert. And he knew he would not be able to cross it even if he knew where he was going. He felt around his chest, but he found that his compass had been taken. His wallet, his gear, and Irleen's bomb gem had been left behind, meaning that the only other possessions he had on him at the time would have been Irleen's translating gem and the sheath for the Lokomo Sword. He would need a weapon, and he needed to find that sword. And he needed to find Sello and Cale.

Using a flap in front of the tent's opening, Link peered around to get a good look at the camp. The space between him and the closest tent was wide, but there were no torches directly shining light on the open area. There was a narrow opening between the tent and the cliff face. If there was no one else around, it would be a good spot to hide while trying to move across the camp.

"WOOHOO!" Link blinked in surprise at the sound. It sounded like Sello's throaty voice, but higher-pitched. Link glanced back at the tent behind him, the one marking the edge of the camp. He looked just in time to see the back end of the tent collapse. After a cautious look into the camp, Link hurried to the other tent and went inside.

The interior was only half the size of the other tent, likely because of the collapse. A Gelto woman hollered in anger. However, the first person Link saw was Sello crawling out of the collapsed portion.

Upon seeing Link, he declared, "I am the wart to wash all pictures!"

Link stared at him in surprise. "Yes," Link told him. "Yes, I suppose you are." Then he waved a hand. "Come on, let's get out of here."

"Ye-okay!" Sello started for Link, stopped, looked around for a moment, and dove back under the collapsed canvas.

"Sello!" Link shouted.

"Oy!" the Gelto still rustling about under the canvas shouted. Sello re-emerged with a pair of bottles in his hands.

"Sello, let's go!" Link shouted, starting for the exit.

"Wait for me!" Sello shouted, diving out the tent after him. To his fortune, the ground outside was sand, and he kicked up a wave when he face-planted the ground. Link spun and grabbed the back of Sello's body suit. He hauled Sello to his feet and held onto him as he rounded to the back of the tents. They ran to the hiding spot Link had seen earlier.

Although Link was hunched low near the tent, Sello stood at his full height. "Whudda we doin'?" he asked.

Link hissed at him. "Keep it down, Sello," he said. "We have to stay hidden." He looked around the corner and spotted another tent, this one with a number of rugs and baskets behind it. So he reached back to grab the front of Sello's orange body suit. Then he glanced Sello up and down. "What happened to your tools? And your waistcoat?"

Sello glanced down as if just realizing that they were missing. "Oh. Dunno." Then he held up a bottle. "But I got dis."

Link gave an exhausted sigh, realizing that Sello was drunk again. "Okay, come on." After a quick check around the side, he dragged Sello over to the next tent and shoved him to the ground. He dropped to his stomach next to Sello. Then he froze at the sound of a frantic woman hollering in Geltoan. He figured it to be the woman from Sello's tent and grabbed one of the rugs above Sello. The rug unrolled and covered them. Sello started chuckling, and Link elbowed him. "Be quiet, Sello," he said. But Sello did not, so Link wrapped his arm around Sello's head and covered Sello's mouth with his hand. And he listened. The scuffing sound of thin shoes seemed very close to his head, and he dared to look between the rug and the ground. A foot covered with a curled-toe, leather shoe was all he could see until more scuffing heralded two pairs of feet passing by.

"'Ak Xili'anu thaycalxwya'ak!" one shouted. "Hayxwolan!"

"Ay!" two others said.

Link listened to the same footsteps leaving, but he waited for a moment just in case one lingered. The foot had disappeared from sight. When Link was convinced it was safe, he released Sello's head. After hissing to remind Sello to be quiet, he slid toward the tent next to him and pulled up the canvas. The glint of metal indicated something promising, and he dared shoving his head inside.

It was an armory. Racks of glaives and swords lined the walls. The middle of the room sported a large barrel of arrows, and Link could see bows sitting in a pile in the corner across from him. The tent was lit from a small, metal lantern hanging above the arrows from a rope. He waited a moment to see whether anyone would enter looking for a weapon, and then he crawled into the tent.

Sello crawled in as he crossed to the tent's opening. "Whoooooooa. Shiny."

Link peered out the opening to see if anyone was approaching. Fortunately, the guards appeared to be too well armed to need to pick up a weapon, most carrying either a sword or a glaive and the rest carrying both (with the sword strapped around their waists). And it appeared that no one unarmed roamed the grounds. Link sighed and tried to come up with a plan. Now that the Gelto appeared to have sounded the alarm, getting across the camp would be much harder. That was assuming that Cale had not been moved.

"Hey, Link!" Link spun in alarm. However, Sello only showed that he had balanced his new bottle on the end of a sword.

The Lokomo Sword.

"Sello, where'd you find that?" Link asked, striding over and snatching up the sword.

Sello juggled the bottle for a moment. When he caught it, he pointed to a basket with his free hand. "Z'on top'a dat."

Link shouldered the sword and moved to the basket. Upon throwing off the lid, he found Sello's missing waistcoat on top of a pile of weird tools. "It looks like your stuff, Sello."

"Zweet beans!" Sello said, shoving Link aside so he could dig into the basket. Link glanced at the tent opening before strapping the Lokomo Sword on. He pulled the sword to check it, and he found that someone had cleaned the blade. Satisfied that it appeared the way he had left it, he sheathed it and looked back to Sello. He cringed when Sello knocked over the basket and started re-attaching his tools to his body suit. He checked outside again, but their fortune still held.

He looked back to see that Sello had left a small bag on the ground. He stepped back and quickly swept it up. He dumped the contents in one hand. His compass appeared intact, as did Irleen's translating gem. He double-checked that the basket was empty. Then, after pocketing the items, he sighed and said, "Sello, we—… Sello, where'd that second bottle go?"

"Wha?" Sello asked. Then he showed Link a large pocket on the left leg of his body suit, from which the narrow top of a bottle protruded. "Big pockets."

"Is it alcohol?" Link asked.

Sello retrieved his open bottle from the floor and pulled the cork off. Then he took a large drink. He stumbled a moment and then said, "I dunno. Ma head feels all mzzy-mzzy, bu' I can still see you. It's… it's like… ah can see I'm drunk."

Link blinked at him. "That's… actually kinda scary."

Sello offered him the bottle. "Try some?"

Link took the bottle and sniffed its contents. His nose was assaulted by a disgustingly strong sweetness that made him pull the bottle away quickly. The smell of alcohol was almost too subtle. Whatever Sello had taken, it smelled volatile.

Which gave him an idea. He remembered a money-making side job that Line had thought up, where Line had been decorating bar tables by lightly scorching the surface in artistic patterns. The job had failed when Line had burned down the workshop they had been using, but Link remembered that he had been using alcohol to control the flames before extinguishing it with a large pan from the main office's kitchen. One of the cooks had stolen them back, so he had thought a heavy blanket would help control the ensuing fire which had burned the workshop down. He glanced up at the lantern, and then at the pile of bows near the tent opening. "Sello," he said, "can you get that lantern for me?"

"Zure!" While Sello reached over the bucket of arrows, Link turned to the pile of bows and picked up the top one. Realizing that the small bag was still in his hand, he put it between his teeth and tested the bow's string a few times. Then he held it up as if to fire, the string pulled back as far as his chin. When he released, he felt the string snap his right forearm. It did not hurt much because of his undersuit sleeve, but he would have to watch out for it. He found an empty quiver stashed behind a nearby glaive rack and snatched it up.

"Gotchur lantern," Sello said.

Link took a handful of arrows and stuffed them into the quiver. Then he set both on the floor, dropped the bag from his mouth into his hand, and held a hand up. "Let me see that bottle again." Sello frowned at the lantern in one hand and handed over the bottle. Link placed the bag over the mouth of the bottle and upturned the bottle to soak the bag. Then he handed the bottle back to Sello and took an arrow from the barrel. "Open the lantern up." Sello did so while Link skewered the bag with the arrow. "Hold it steady."

"M' holdin' it steady," Sello said as Link carefully stuck the bag into the lantern. "Z'world's shakin'."

The bag lit, and Link quickly moved back to the opening, snatching up the bow as he went. "Come over here," he said as he nocked the burning arrow. He had seen a tent outside which looked like a good target. If he could set it on fire, it might distract the Gelto long enough for he and Sello to get to Cale. He drew the bow back until the burning bag was as close to his hand as he was comfortable with. "I'm going to count to three. When I say 'three', pull the flap open as fast as you can. When I fire this arrow, let it go and step away. Okay?"

"Gotcha!" Sello said, smacking his forehead as if to salute.

"Okay." He stepped up to the flap with the bow at the ready. "One. Two. Three."

Sello ripped the flap aside, and Link aimed and fired the bow into the air. Sello shoved the flap back in place, but Link thought he caught a glimpse of a Gelto warrior look directly at him.

"Now what?" Sello asked, an eager look on his face.

"I don't know. I guess we wait f—"

BOOOOOOOM! BAM! BaBAM! BAM BAM! Both Link and Sello jumped at the sound of explosions nearby. Chatter outside rose in response. Link pulled open the flap to peer outside. He saw that he had missed the tent he had intended to hit.

But the area behind it was on fire. Link closed the flap and gave Sello an uneasy look. "Oops."

Sello glanced aside. Then he pointed for Link. "Whoops."

Link followed Sello's direction to see that the discarded lantern and discarded alcohol had started a fire on the tent's rug. "Right, no more fire," Link told him. He pointed to the back of the tent. "Quick. Out the way we came."

The two scrambled outside and under the rug they had been using. Link waited to see if anyone was still looking around the back of the tent, then they followed the cliff and stopped behind tents before advancing. The explosions, though an accident, had done their job in distracting the Gelto. Most of the warriors Link saw were too busy scrambling back and forth with buckets to see two Hylians sneaking back towards the prison. Only a few tents away from Cale's location, they heard fresh cries of surprise from what Link expected to be the discovery of the fire consuming the armory. Soon, they were behind the last tent looking at the unguarded door.

Which, upon yanking the door as hard as possible, Link discovered was still locked.

Holding his head where flesh met wood, he turned to Sello and asked, "You think you can get past this lock?"

"Heh-yeah," Sello said as he removed a long, slender item from his waistcoat. Link watched him jam it into the tight keyhole, then remove another tool and smack the backside of the first tool. The lock let out a bang, and Sello secured the second tool around the handle of the first. He cranked it around a couple times while Link kept his eyes on the camp. He heard Sello grunt. Then…

Kin! Link glanced back to see Sello yank out the first tool from a loose door. He glanced at the lock. "How'd you do that?"

Sello pointed at the lock. "Iron," he said. Then he indicated the tool. "Steel."

Link gave a slow nod, unsure if he understood. "Yeeeeah, okay. I need you to go get Cale."

"Yeokey-dokey!" Sello slipped inside, and Link followed and pulled the door until he had just a sliver to see with. He could hear Sello working behind him due to a number of metal-on-metal sounds, indicating Sello was probably using another method to open Cale's cell. No one seemed worried about the prison, although Link could not tell if the fires were out yet. He passed his glance over the grounds to a group of torches on the edge of the camp. He could see platforms which appeared to be anchored to the ground like ships to a dock.

And when he saw the collapsed sails sitting on a simple gaff rig, he knew exactly how they would be leaving.

"I got Cale," Sello called.

Link turned to find both of them jogging up the corridor. "Good," he said, fitting the bow into the quiver he had strapped to his back under the sword. "Cale, you think you can do some running?"

Cale nodded. "I believe so." Then he looked down at himself. "Ah… d-did eitheh of you happen to find an extra shiht?"

"Oh," Sello uttered. He removed his waistcoat and offered it to Cale. "Here."

"Thank you," Cale replied, looking hard at the oversized garment.

"Okay, here's the plan," Link said. "There are some kind of sloops within running distance from here. If we can get to one, I might be able to pilot us out of here."

"S-sloop?" Cale asked, wincing from fitting his injured shoulder through the waistcoat.

"It's a vessel with a simple sail plan," Link told him. "If the winds are strong enough, we can get enough of a head start that they won't follow us."

Cale nodded. "When do we go?"

"Now."

"Now?"

"Now!" Link flung the door open and tore across the rock surface as fast as possible. Both Sello and Cale were slow to respond, but they took off after Link. Link did not intend to make it look like he was trying to leave them behind, but the sooner he could raise the sails (hopefully while Sello and Cale were still running, as it would give him room to work), the sooner they could move out. The Gelto must have been very determined to put out the fires because Link had not caught sight of any of them calling attention to the three Hylians running in the open across the camp.

The transition from rock to sand almost made Link trip, but he boarded one of the sloops and moved to the front. First, he untied the bottom line of the jib and unwrapped it from the stay. Sello and Cale boarded just as he was tying the bottom line to a hook in the deck. He made sure it was loose so the jib would catch as much wind as possible, but he was a little dubious because he had never had to set a jib in that manner. The fact that the jib was already filling with wind made him confident.

"Move to the front," Link told them as he stepped to unravel the mainsail.

"Oy!" Link glanced over his shoulder. A young Gelto, probably about a decade older than him wearing a simple, green shirt and matching slacks, was standing on the sloop on their sloop's right. "Waliyxomotak dhol max?"

"Crud," Link said under his breath, dropping the binding lines onto the deck. "Cale, keep an eye on her."

"Already am, Link," Cale said.

"Xili'anu?" the woman asked. "You a' doing what?"

"Uh…" Cale droned. He watched Link untie a control line and start hoisting the sail. "Leaving."

"You not can take!" she hollered at them. "I fixed that one!" Wind caught the main sail, surprising Link. He kept his feet and hauled the sail to full.

"I believe we ah, actually," Cale told her.

"I will stop you," she warned.

Cale glanced back at the camp. "How? By the time you find someone, we'll have already left."

The deck rocked under them. "Grab something," Link shouted, holding the control line wrapped around one arm.

"Watch this," the Gelto woman said. She turned toward the camp where most of the activity seemed to be and cupped her hands around her mouth.

And she let out an ear-splitting scream that made the boys wince. More women broke from the activity to look over at the sloops before hollering in their direction. The woman then turned and smiled at them.

"Uh, Link?" Cale called out.

Link drew the Lokomo Sword with his free hand. "Hang on!" he shouted. Then he swung at the ropes holding the sloop. One snapped, then two.

But the sloop did not move. The Gelto gave them a mocking laugh.

Link then noticed the waist-high handles on either of the sloop's trailing boards. "Cale, Sello, I need you guys to push!"

"Ye-okay!" Sello shouted as both of them jumped to the back of the sloop and onto the sand. They each took a handle and shoved as hard as possible.

Coupled with the wind filling the sails, they started the sloop enough that the wind took over. "That's it!" Link hollered at them. "Get on!" Sello pulled himself up and over the handle, slamming onto the deck.

But Cale, on Link's right, could not pull himself. "He-e-e-eeelp!"

Using the control line to support himself, Link spun and grabbed Cale's left wrist. Cale tripped trying to run with the sloop, but Link's grip kept him from falling into the sand. Link then hauled Cale onto the deck next to Sello after using the swing of the mainsail to help him gain a bit of momentum.

He looked back to see the Gelto stop at the edge of their camp and watch them sail away.

"You guys okay?" Link asked his passengers.

"Heh-yeah!" Sello shouted. "Lez do it again!"

"Oh, please no," Cale groaned, lying back on the deck.