A/N: My computer gave me quite a scare; I thought I had lost all my files. This isn't as thoroughly edited as usual, but I wanted to get it on here in case something else happened.

Thank you Moon ninja Luna (I'm glad, because here's another long one!), Mokki Takashi (I thought the same 'wow!' when you said that. Psychic connection to stories? XD), Guest (Sorry to keep you waiting! I'm glad you liked it.), Voidlash (Bob will be playing an important role later in the story, you'll see~), Guest (I'm touched. Don't worry, I will.), Bluebadger (Sorry for the delay. I'll try my best not to make you wait too long between chapters. Indeed he is not nice. Something is definitely going on.), Tui (That's good, because my chapters seem to keep growing in length!), autumn-lee-edits (You were right. XD But things are going to get rolling here soon.), Ambiguous Cake (Thank you for clearing that up. And Bat BFFs, yes.), Alter Ego Bob (I hope you'll like this chapter, then! ^_^), and Maybe (Thanks for clarifying.) for your reviews last chapter.

I was really bad about responding this time around (I squished them all in here ^_^'). I hope this earlier update makes up for it.

Chapter 16

Hot wind whirls all around me, and an even hotter sun beats down with unrelenting rays. It bakes the hills of sand that stretch on for miles and miles.

Ghirahim paces around as I stand swaying in the heat, squinting to reduce the sting in my eyes. The reflective blare of sunlight on sand is almost as bright as the sun itself.

Ghirahim continues pacing, this way, and then that. A frown tugs at his winter lips, and his brow knits above his searching eyes. "I know I sensed her…"

"Gone?" I rasp, shifting uncomfortably. There's not a lick of shade anywhere, and—is that a lake on the horizon? No…no, it's just heat waves rising from the ground, making the distance look wobbly and shimmery.

"No, not gone." He scans the horizon, his dark eyes narrowed. "But not…in one place either."

My confused stare isn't acknowledged.

Ghirahim starts ahead of me. Belatedly realizing I haven't moved, he gestures irritably, prompting me to catch up to his long strides. "Come, darling, no dithering!"

I take off at a rush. The fluid sand gives way under my feet, causing me to sink and slide with every step. Twice the effort must be made in my movements, and suddenly I feel as if I'm back on the inclines of Eldin, instead of these slight hills of sand. I gasp and stumble and sweat. The hot breeze does little to wick away perspiration. Funny, just this morning I was in a chilly tower wishing it was warmer. Now I'm wishing for the opposite.

"Could you possibly go any slower?" Ghirahim looks back at me. The stupid demon doesn't have a speck of sweat on him. If anything, he looks as if he has his own little breeze swirling around him, keeping him cool. Pfft, I wouldn't be surprised if he had a spell for just that.

"Yes." My foot slips with the sand and I thrust my hands out to catch myself before my face does.

Ghirahim arches a brow, looking down his nose at me from where he waits atop a hill of whispering sand. A smile not quite concealing his annoyance stretches his lips taut. "Do you need me to carry you again, little bird?"

I grit my teeth, turning my head away from a spray of sand the wind kicks up. "Well, just let me flap my arms and I'll fly, how 'bout that?!"

A metallic chime of magic rides on the wind's whistle. When I clamber to the hill's crest, Ghirahim is nowhere to be seen.

"Now, wouldn't that be a sight?" comes a whisper from over my shoulder. "Let's see it."

I tense to spring away, but am too late. He seizes me by the back of my tunic and pants and tosses me off the dune like I'm nothing more than a little bale of hay. I soar all of two seconds before I crash and roll, feet over head, down the hill, flopping and squawking all the way.

Something sharp stabs into my leg, sending a shock of pain up through my hip.

"Cactus, cactus!" I shriek, at last sliding to the bottom of the dune in a pile of bunched up sand. I glare upwards, eyes landing first on the stout prickly pear responsible for the spines sticking out of my thigh, and then to the demon laughing at the top of the hill. My heated face feels like it's going to explode. "You—! You—ffss! The one cactus in sight and you throw me on it! Really?!"

I continue to squawk and gripe, staggering to a standing position, while Ghirahim doubles over in laughter.

"Ah, I needed that," he sighs once his amusement abates. He brushes his hair out of his eyes with the back of his hand, and then teleports in the next instant, reappearing next to me. "Enough shillyshallying. We won't have a repeat of last time. Oh, and, darling…" He saunters closer, brushing a wild mess of tangles from my face, the gesture seeming far too gentle. When his hand stays to fiddle with my ear, I freeze, immediately suspicious. He smiles sweetly, but it does not hide the malicious spark in his eye. He leans close to my face, whispering, "…don't sass me."

Pain flares in my leg and I jolt, swallowing a pained squeak. Ghirahim's other hand comes up with the cactus spines from my thigh between his fingers. He makes a show of splaying his fingers open, letting the spines fall to the ground in front of my face.

"Okay, okay," I grumble, rubbing my aching leg.

Ghirahim flexes and arches his hand, like he's waiting for an invisible someone to kiss it, smiling at it as if he's seeing something of great beauty. But then his eyes slip to me and an edge enters his voice. "Is that what you say to your master?"

Confusion makes me tense. "Yes…?"

He fully tears his attention from admiring his gloved hand and looks at me sharply. "Yes, what?"

Understanding clicks, and I frown. "…Yes, Master." I say it quietly, failing to mask my sulkiness, and sarcasm left forgotten until after it is said. I stand straighter and retry, "Yes, 'Master'," this time peppier, this time not forgetting.

He smiles at me. "Good."

My heart shudders, stings, as my promise comes back to slap me. I'll be good, I said. Don't trust, but don't be mean either. Is it really all right to pull the wool over the eyes of someone who can't even detect sarcasm? And then I think: How can he not detect sarcasm? How old is this demon again, and he can't pick up on something as mundane as that? But then, he isn't human, so maybe things are just different where he comes from. But something just doesn't feel right…

Why is he looking at me like that? What with that smarmy smirk and knowing eyes, as if he's got a secret over my head, as if I'm the one with wool over my eyes. The ewe wants me to back up, but the she-wolf bristles.

"What!" I snap, backing up a step. Just one.

His smile grows. "Oh, nothing at all."

My face drains of all color. "You…you've known."

His boisterous laughter is all the answer I need. "Oh, darling! The fact you thought you were getting away with something was simply adorable!"

I stand very stiff. "But—but why let me get away with anything?"

He flicks his hand in the air with a sense of regal nonchalance. "Sarcasm today, sincerity tomorrow. Although"—he leans to look me in the eye, his smile revealing the white tips of his teeth—"today would be tomorrow, wouldn't it?"

My mouth opens and closes soundlessly.

Ghirahim straightens, pretentious smiling never wavering. "You should see the look on your face, darling. Positively precious."

And then he hoists me up and plops me over his shoulder like a bag of kittens he's going to drown.

"Don't hurt the kittens…" I whisper into his cape.

"Hmm?" He hums question, but we take off and he doesn't care enough to revisit.

Ghirahim leaps dunes, the wind hurtling all around us. I close my eyes and try to pretend I'm on an amusement park ride. Life in Skyloft did little to lessen my previous lifetime's aversion to heights, even if Turk always…

My heart clenches painfully as I think of my lost bird. Turk always caught me. Not gently, but…he caught me.

More than once we stop. Ghirahim stands, turning this way then that. He makes like we're going one way only to change direction abruptly. Finally he huffs and we teleport, reappearing on an outcropping of rock high above, on what appears to be the start of a dried out canyon. A sea of sand and rock surrounds us as far as the eye can see, with no end except where it meets the clear blue sky. Ghirahim slides me off his shoulder and begins pacing again, scrutinizing every horizon.

"Are…you dowsing?" I ask uncertainly, stepping closer. "What is it? What's wro—aghhh!"

"Shh!" he hisses, retracting the finger he just shoved in my mouth.

I sputter and spit. "Ugh! Dude! That's not how you shush people! You put your finger to their lips not in their freaking mou—gth!" My hair flips into my face when he cuffs my ear.

He tells me to hush once more, and returns to glaring into the distance. "…Blasted goddess and her irritating dog. They've put up a dispersing barrier."

I'm still rubbing my stinging ear. "Ah…what?"

"A dispersing barrier, you nitwit! It fractures the auras of those hidden within it and scatters them. I can sense the goddess's aura coming from multiple directions at once. A dispersing barrier must be the culprit."

I blink. "Oh, coo—I mean, not cool. Um…now what?"

He turns to me in an angry flourish. But then, with me in his sights, his glare twitches into a smile. "You tell me. Which way?"

A smile twitches at my mouth too. Only mine is born of nervousness. My mind goes into overdrive, thinking if I should or if I can, what if I get him there too early or too late, and surely the latter is better than the former.

As it turns out, you can only stutter and spin web so long before Ghirahim starts losing composure. And that demon losing composure is never good.

"Let's go over this again." His voice strains with barely held together patience. "Which direction exactly, little bird? And speak clearly, darling; there's nothing more vexing than mumbles."

My heart skips at the growl his tone has descended into. "I—I told you, she's walking into the sun."

We look up at the noonday sun.

His gaze snaps back to me. "Was it rising or setting?"

"Um…"

"East or west?"

"…Uh."

He puts a hand to his head, pushes it along his hair as he breathes deep through his nose. "Just… Wonderful…"

"Well," I straighten indignantly, "if we had a landmark or something…"

"And so we should wander around until you see something you recognize?" He glares at me, a single strand of his immaculate curtain of hair drifting loose into his unveiled eye. "Don't be preposterous. We don't have the time!"

"Time…?" I echo. My brain clicks on. Timestones. Of course, the Timeshift Stones! I exclaim, "Master!" and begin my stuttering explanation of the stones. With a distant sinking feeling, I realize I forgot to mix sarcasm into his title again. Sincerity today… Be careful, don't let that sincerity go too far, warns what's left of my good sense.

Ghirahim listens without moving, not until I am finished. Then he reaches up and smooths his hair once more. "The mines…" A sinister smile breaks out over his face. He swishes his cape and poises to snap before dragging me close. With a click of his fingers we're gone.

Cooler, stagnant air hangs over me. I open my eyes to darkness. Seconds pass for my vision to adjust from sun blinding sand to wherever this is. The black slowly seeps away, leaving a dim glow of pale blue, and my jaw unhinges at the sight I see. Tiny blue stones, hundreds of them, scattered all around, glittering from cracks and between stalactites of a deep cavern.

"Master," I breathe, spinning slowly, "are…are these all Timestones?"

A whisper of cloth comes from the left of me. "They are."

I can't stop gawking, and Ghirahim takes me by the elbow to pull me into walking. "What are they all doing here? Don't those little robots mine them?"

"Hm? Ah, yes, those things. They do—or did. Unfortunately, these stones are too small to be worth anything."

"Are you kidding?!" I spin from his grasp to look at all the softly glowing stones. "They could gather all these up and use them to turn this crappy desert into the seaside paradise it once was."

"Those rusted pieces of junk cannot do much of anything anymore. But then, all they were good for was menial tasks…" He stops and looks at me intently, the bluish glow of the cavern making him seem an apparition from a dark otherworld. "…I scarcely remember the sea that once dwelled here. Odd, that you would know it. Your visions allow you to peer into the past as well, I take it?"

"Uh…" I swallow, jerk my head in a nod. "Yeah."

He stare bores deep. The smile tugging at his lips is one I know well—a premonition of potential rage. It tears at my nerves like a tickling black claw, trying to spook me into reaction. His lowered brow gives his eyes a wicked gleam. "What else do you know, little bird? I do hope you're not keeping anything from me." The manner in which he says it is amicable, sweet almost, but even I, with my density, cannot miss the underlying threat.

"No, Master, I'm not." I keep steady, pray it is enough. When he saunters towards me, the ewe screams run! But for whatever reason my feet are rooted in place.

His slender fingers find my chin, and he tilts my head to look him in the eye. My heart pounds; my brain scrambles to cover its bases. Did I stutter? Is he on to me? In my anxiety I want to shake, to shiver and writhe, to run and hide. Instead I glare. Glare and scrunch my nose. It is the she-wolf, who isn't having any of this crap.

He does not blink. Neither do I.

As quickly as it spiked, tension drops. His smile becomes less sharp and his brows raise. "In answer to your earlier statement: No, they could not."

"Huh?" It comes out like a bark; my hackles have not lowered yet.

He grins and crooks a finger at me, leading me along a blue studded tunnel. I spy marks in the stone, deep gashes that came from carve-digging tools. I even spot a rusted piece of said tool, and I wonder if the robot is buried somewhere nearby, under a thousand years of built up grime.

"Only one Timeshift Stone can be activated within a certain distance. How big a stone is correlates to how much its time sphere can encompass. These little pebbles you see before you could only cover a foot, if that, I surmise." He flicks a hand. "Worthless."

"Melt them into one," I suggest, skittering after him in the narrowing tunnel.

He chuckles. "That would require immensely powerful magic. They're not normal stones, darling. Your goddess is the only one who's made something of Timestones."

I frown, glare reflaring. "She's not my goddess," I say, voice gone guttural.

"Oh?" He regards me with a raised eyebrow. "Do you sky children no longer worship the goddess that whisked you away to safety all those centuries ago?"

I grit my teeth and feel like punching something. "They do. I don't."

"A falling out?" He turns a sharp corner. I see sunlight streaming up ahead.

"She was never my goddess," I say roughly. "My God is…the God of the Knowing Realm. I could never worship another."

Even if I've been left, I think, going unsaid. He must exist, because there is no other way I could accept. Abandonment is easier to deal with than complete absence of presence. Even if He's left me here to drown, I could never follow another. He gave life to the green valley of my heart.

I pause when I see Ghirahim has stopped and turned half-way to me. He looks at me with brow furrowed, and it is then I realize I whispered my mind's declarations out loud. Did I say it in English? I still have the habit of thinking in my native language. Good thing, as it may have thrown in some confusion. Even so, my heart skitters and threatens to burst. It continues to do so even when Ghirahim, seemingly disregarding what I've said, moves onward. It is the lack of time that rescues me, the time he thinks we don't have, that tugs him forward. But it does not stop him from asking.

"The Knowing Realm…" Ghirahim glances over his shoulder to me. "Where you get your knowledge…"

I follow him diligently, head lowered. "Yes."

"Can you not tap into that realm at will?"

"No." My answer is smooth and concise. Because it's half true. "I just get visions or dreams."

Of a life long gone.

I am careful to keep that thought to myself, but something pricks in my heart, and I feel the need to elaborate. "They…they kind of present themselves like repressed memories that just decide to pop back up or something. It's…actually pretty creepy."

There, I think. Now it's not such a lie. And if he finds out… Oh, who am I kidding? If he ever finds out I knew how this whole thing ends from the get-go, he's going to string my guts out on a clothesline and leave them to flap in the wind.

I laugh nervously. "Crazy, huh?"

Ghirahim only hums thoughtfully in response.

The sun pierces my eyes and I must shut them when we step outside.

Ghirahim waves his arm to the surrounding area. "See anything familiar?"

"Gimme a minute," I gripe, squinting.

Sure enough, when my sight clears, I see a giant, crumbling statue of an ancient robot, saluting the sky. I run off after it without a word, the laughter of Ghirahim ringing out behind me.

"I trust you know to be careful," he called after me.

"Yeah, yeah," I said, not long before my leg plunged down into thick, mucky sand.

And now I'm trying to save my dignity and right myself before he catches me.

Too late, my brain provides. I'm snatched by the scruff of my tunic and yanked to safer ground. Ghirahim gives me a disparaging glare. "You little fool. How can you be so knowledgeable for a human, and yet be so stupid?"

"It's an art," I say, wriggling sand particles from my leg.

He slaps me upside the head.

My mind spins and spins, only being yanked out of its carousal when Ghirahim says, "Come here."

Blindly I stagger forward, and am once again hoisted over his shoulder. He takes me high to rocky ground and asks again of I see anything familiar. I struggle to get a better look around, arching up from my slung-over position. Rivers of sinking sand intermingle with rock and cacti. I can't see much else but red cape. I squirm. "If I could just see—eep!"

In one fluid motion he slides me down to his waist, hooking my legs over his hips. He smiles with wickedness. "Better?"

I sit ridged, desperately trying to ignore the fluttering in my lower belly, and say nothing, instead using the better viewpoint to answer for me. I cast my sights out, very careful not to look at the demon holding me. At last seeing familiarity, I raise my hand and point.

The hand at the small of my back tightens. My stomach tells me we're in the air before my brain does. As the warm wind whirls my hair into a tizzy, I can't help but notice the lack of heat emanating from the body I'm wrapped around. Ghirahim feels as cool to the touch as ever, almost as ice. I catch myself from melting into him, reminding myself who he is, reminding why I should remain tense. It doesn't matter that his skin is smooth as a river's flow, or that his snowy white suit feels as cool silk, or that his red cloak whips at me with teasing breezes of relief. No. If I am to burn, I will burn.

I stop myself from leaning my burning red face into the crook of his neck just as we hit ground. Though I try to blame my almost-action as a result of the sudden landing's momentum, I cannot fool myself.

Something's happening to me. Something very bad. I have to fight it.

"Off!" I gasp, wriggling to get down. "Get me—I want down!" Internally I cringe at the childishness that leaked into my tone.

Ghirahim laughs and lets me fall to the ground. I take off running, letting the heat festering in my body distract me from unwanted feelings. He strolls after me, allowing me to take the lead like a little hound dog, sniffing for the trail we're supposed to take.

I scramble over loose sandstone, stumble down an incline, trip and scrap my knee through my pants—the burn does not stop me. My mind is muddled from heat and stress. I fear what's coming, and if it will all play out as it should, or if things will go wrong and I'll see that dark diamond skin long before it is meant to show. I want to stop, I need time to think, but Ghirahim is behind me. A spiked wall or a wall of flames chasing me would be preferable.

Either way, I have to go forward.

I must be subconsciously trying to outdistance him, because I round a corner too fast, clipping my hip on a rock. I stagger and fall on my hands. My hair flings into my face and blinds me, and it is only through sound that I realize I'm in danger.

A high insect-like screech pierces through the hiss of moving sands, and crunching earth, much like that of the rolling Scaldera, rapidly increases in volume—closer, closer.

I scramble and fall and fall and scramble. I whip my hair from my face just in time to see a gray shell wall dotted with crackling nodes of electricity coming at me.

Then there is a clank of metal on stone.

The stone-shell stops mere inches from my nose.

Ghirahim holds his palm against the creature, looking down at me with zero impression. "My, you're far clumsier in this environment. Keep this up and I might think you're trying to get yourself killed." With that said, he summons out his sword and thrusts it into the opening of the snail-like shell. A loud shriek comes out from that opening, along with a crunch and a spurt of blood.

I scramble backwards on my hands and feet, the desperate need to get away from blood curdling on the sands shooting through me like a whistle to the sky.

I wish he hadn't noticed, but he did.

He regards me for too long, dark stare intense, unblinking. "Does…this upset you, little bird?"

I flinch as he twists the sword, cringe at the tearing noise within the shell and the reflow of red that follows.

The entire time he does not take his shrewd, narrowed eyes off me. "Such a soft heart you have…"

I look away. Look away and curse myself. I should not have allowed myself to react. But I did so without thinking—it was a reflex. And now he knows, beyond a doubt, every little creature…he could cut them to pieces and make me writhe with empathic agony.

Ghirahim retracts the blade from the now dead creature with a jerk, and lets the shell fall to its side in a thud of dust. He stalks towards me, the bloodied sword hanging nimbly in his hand. He is unblinking, unmoving of that dark, predatory stare. Again I find myself trapped in that gaze. I cannot will myself to move.

He crouches before me, brings the blade up to my cheek. "We'll have to do something about that."

My eyes stretch wide. "W-what?"

A smile spreads his face. "Oh, come, darling, we can't have you weeping over every little kill." He stands suddenly. "But that will have to be a project for another time." The sword dematerializes in a spritz of black diamonds.

I don't like the sound of that, but say nothing.

He signals me to stand, then slips his fingers under my chin and lifts it. White lips form a pout of mock sympathy. "Don't look so morose, like I've killed your favorite pet."

I squint my eyes in imagined pain, thinking how awful it would be if I had my cats in this world—the horrible things he would do to them for my compliance.

Subtly, his fingers begin to stroke under my chin. Then, cool and feather-light, he traces the underside of my jaw, makes his way to my ear. He caresses the rim of the rounded oddity—probably the only other he's seen besides his mismatched own—and I mentally chant to stay calm. He's messing with you, I tell myself. It's a trick. He's trying to get under your guard—but you won't let him. Love your enemies, fine, but don't you dare lower that wall of distrust. Don't you dare feel safe, don't you dare feel cared for. That's what he wants—it's a trick! He doesn't give a lick about you.

I fight to keep my shoulders from hunching, fight to remain as composed and remote as possible. My eyes narrow, my teeth grit. "We have somewhere to be…?"

"Mmm." He has that odd look on his face again, like he's sleepy: half-lowered eyelids and an almost lazy grin. "Indeed. We do. Your methods cause too much distraction, I'm afraid. Here, give me your hand. Take it, little bird. There. Now you can't bumble your way into trouble. Let's find the spirit maiden, shall we?"

As it turns out, we were right around the bend from the central compound, the place where Link will raise the entrance to the underground mining facility. Will. Soon. Eventually. The timing is unsure.

The looming figure of Hylia's insignia demands my eye. It towers up into the sky like some abstract painting, the sun blazing behind it, setting it aglow in gold-red fire. The image stirs remembrances of a past that unknowingly foretold the future. Suddenly a sense of panic wells up in me; my heart beats faster, and I struggle to contain my breathing. The oppressive heat does not help matters. It's too familiar, that image.

And suddenly it is far too real. It's like I'm really seeing it.

She's walking into the sun, white dress whipping in the harsh wind, golden hair tangling about her head. The sun burns behind the great bird that pushes those golden triangles into the sky. It is a monument to her—her insignia. She's there, waiting for her hero to arrive.

A hand squeezes mine too tightly, painfully. Ghirahim leans into my field of vision, speaks in a dangerously hushed voice. "What is it, little bird? What do you see?"

I blink, snapping out from the trance I didn't know I was in. "Uh, wha…?"

His hand squeezes harder, and he enunciates slowly. "What. Did. You see?"

"I…" Quick! I think. We can't go there yet. I don't know how I know that—but we can't. Think of something, anything. "The…the mines. This is the entrance."

Ghirahim looks around at the sand raddled structures circling out before us. They have crumpled and sunken, leaving gaps where they used to loop in rings, smaller, smaller, until the final circle, the center of which was supposed to house the mine entrance, but now only houses sinking sand. Ghirahim flings out his arm in a violent sweep. "What entrance?"

I'm staring at the desolate grounds, wondering what to do, when an idea strikes me, as sure and swift as a bullet. "The nodes... M-Master, I just remembered something from"—I shrink as his sharp eyes turn on me—"f-from one of my…very vague…visions. The entrance is underground. We can raise it up if we activate that control thingy in the middle there. We just need to find the nodes and activate those first."

His eyes trace from my pointing finger to the mechanism residing on the innermost ring of the stone structures. He then turns those unimpressed eyes back to me. "'Control thingy'…? Really, darling? Can you articulate no better? Surely you have a more cultured vocabulary than that."

"I—! Ghk! You…!" I stutter and sputter, all but proving him right. "I can art—artic—I can talk just fine! You got me flustered, is all!" I yank at my hand.

Ghirahim's grip does not falter. "And you have reason to believe the spirit maiden is in the mines?" His eyes are bouncing from horizon to horizon again, and I know he's dowsing once more.

I flex my palm, trying to wriggle out of his grasp. "If you think you can find her better, then go."

His stare latches back onto me, and his hand squeezes so hard pain shoots up through my arm.

I bare my teeth and slam shut my eyes, swallowing my yelp. Did my hand just creak?

The demon tosses his head, and his hair and blue diamond earring sway. "There's far too much sinksand for you to go gallivanting off on your own." He sighs. "Fine. This better not be a waste of time. Show me the nodes."

And I do.

I never gave Link enough credit for traversing these lands. He cut through Faron, powered up Eldin, and he's going to persevere through these tiring Lanayru sands. Me? Tch. By the time I get to the first power nodule, the only thing keeping my panting, sweating mess of a self up is a demon lord's hand. He looks at me as if I'm pathetic, and what keeps him from commenting it I'll never know.

But then, when I move through the puzzles and traps like a bird through the clouds, his expression of disdain slowly melts into one of serene appraising. What it settles into I cannot say. I can't read it.

After stubbing my foot on a Timestone, I marvel at the time sphere that follows, at how what was old, dull and worn is suddenly vibrant, colorful, and new. I kick at a regressed snail-creature in between its spurts of electric fizz, nudge it until it's in a power outlet. I move through the ensuing unbarred doors and climb obstacles. All the way to the power nodule.

Ghirahim trails me. I feel his eyes burning holes into my back, and I never forget his presence. As if I ever could. His presence is like a dark cloud, heavy, putting pressure on the air all around me. I glimpse at him. He appears pleased with himself, for some reason. Like he's the one solving the puzzles. It doesn't occur to me, except in a rivulet of thought, that it's me he could be pleased with. I brush it away. There's no way.

Besides, I'm not sailing through this because I'm smart. It's because I've been through it all before.

"Zzzt! What are you doing—"

"Holy shit!" My English screech shatters off the walls.

And with a kick, the little robot that startled me is quick to fall. It lands with an audible smack. Its electric blue eye flickers, and its stout, boxy body shudders with crackles of static.

I slap my hands over my mouth. "Oh. Oh, no…"

With relief I watch the robot spark back to life. A burst of light from artificial eyes gives them the illusion of widening to saucers. It scurries into a corner, holding its large disked hands above its head. There it cowers, huddling and shivering.

Ghirahim's disdainful sneer precedes a gleam of malevolence, and he starts over to the little robot to do who knows what to it.

"M-Master!" I scramble for something to distract him. My eyes land on the thing we came for, and I dive for it. "The power nodule! I—I can't turn it, Master." I scratch at it like a frightened cat, attempt to stuff my fingers into the slot.

It is enough to redirect his attention. He is behind me before I know it. "Back up, you fool."

I do so. At his back where he cannot see, I rapidly wave my hand at the robot in a 'get the frick out of here quick' motion. The little robot does not need to be told twice, and scuttles off.

The black blade materializes in Ghirahim's firm grasp, is inserted into the slot and turned like a key. The device responds, activating with the glow of an elemental symbol on its monitor.

The other two nodules soon follow, and then we're heading back into the center of the compound, to trigger the main control nodule and raise the entrance to the mining facility. A feeling of giddiness strikes as my idea comes to fruition. Link was supposed to do all this. Link was supposed to search around and fight and solve conundrums. But it's already been done. I've helped him. And not just me…

I glance sidelong at the demon beside me, biting down a tremulous smile. Ghirahim has helped Link. And he doesn't even know it. Hah!

Wonder what he'd do to you if he found out, throws in the she-wolf, grin vicious. It wipes the smile off my face instantly.

I squeak when Ghirahim grabs my arm. Has he found out? I panic. Does he read minds?!

But it was only to yank me close. He snaps his fingers and teleports us to the central nodule, skipping over spans of sinking sand. If only Link could do the same, I lament once solid ground is again beneath my feet. But he must do it the hard way—as always. Well, at least I've made it somewhat easier on…him…

"Uh…" I peer up at Ghirahim's face. "Are you okay?"

His expression has gone stark, his eyes wide. He stands ramrod straight, staring off into the distance like he's trying to blow a hole in the desert with his eyes. "There she is!"

And then he's gone, in a flare of diamond fractals.

I stare at where he stood. I stare at the direction he had been looking…opposite from the Temple of Time. Has he fallen for another trick of the dispersing barrier? 'Cause no way is Zelda anywhere but the temple. Somehow I just know it.

Ha-ha, laughs, surprisingly, the ewe. Dumbass.

I don't know what to do with Ghirahim gone. He left me with no sword or dagger to turn the nodule with. Link will have to activate it when he arrives. But he's not here yet—no one is. Boredom and restlessness get the better of me.

So I wander.

So many areas, and nooks, and crannies I cloud not fully explore in the game. So many sights I could not truly appreciate until now. Sand particles skitter across rock and stone like thousands of little bugs, the detail of which could never be conveyed through a video screen. The hot slap of the wind and the stinging sand add the finishing touches and cement me in reality, and prompt me, despite my wandering feet, to take caution I would not have taken otherwise.

I probably should have waited, I think too late, after I have already started exploring. It won't be long before Ghirahim realizes Zelda isn't where he thinks she is. I wonder what made him take off like that. Was it really the barrier? Maybe one of the auras changed? I don't know, and I'm quick to shrug it off. I won't go far, I tell myself. He won't be too mad if I tell him I saw something I recognized, and therefore had to investigate.

I sneak around enemies, creeping corners and stepping lightly.

I'm looking for solid ground among shifting sand when a bird's scream carries on the wind. I freeze, listen. Then I spot one of those big, fat birds with dark feathers sitting in a dead tree. Aren't those the ones that drop rocks? I wrinkle my nose at it and continue on, hunkering down so it will not see me.

My exploration takes me past ancient structures, over sand-worn carvings, past sands falling like water over steep cliffs. I wriggle my way into a fissure in the face of one of those cliffs, hoping for another glimpse of glowing caverns. No glowing stones, but sunlight trickles in from crevices up above, lighting the trail in golden flakes. I follow the speckled path, narrow and jagged but still traversable, my shadow eclipsing warm earth. Wonder and awe like I haven't felt in a long, long time thrum in me. What's around the next corner? Something new, something exciting, something wonderful—oh it could be anything!

I trot down the metaphorical rabbit hole, imagining for a split second that they're beside me. My brother, my friends. We're here to travel this world, here to see what lies beyond the corner, what waits beyond the beyond.

A distant clinking draws me back down to earth. Fear spikes, but with it, curiosity. Is that a monster, or something else? I am led by the echoes, deep into the caves.

I round the next corner and jump in my skin, seeing a moving rock—no, a creature…

A Goron, my brain finally supplies. I can't recall his name, but I know him. He's a researcher of mysterious wonders, like the other Goron. What were their names? My brow pinches trying to remember.

I walk up behind him slowly, boots softly scuffling sand. I open my mouth, close it, not sure how to speak without startling him. So, like an awkward creeper, I stand there, twiddling my thumbs.

The Goron chips away at the rock face, his pickaxe swinging in steady rhythm, the clink, clink, clink filling the sunlit cavern. Every now and then he'll stop and pull out a grub his digging uncovered, plopping the wriggling glob into a bucket sitting on the ground beside him. I stare at the bucket incredulously. I can't recall what exactly the Goron is excavating for, but I'm pretty sure it wasn't bugs.

The Goron pulls out another grub, this one about the size of an adult man's fist.

I scrunch my nose. "Eugh!" I slap a hand over my mouth, but too late.

"Hm?" The Goron turns. His face is flat and round, accented only by what appears to be jagged rocks protruding from his chin like a beard. His dark beady eyes blink surprise. "Oh, hello there…miss, or sir? I apologize. I hardly ever get visitors."

My hand falls from my mouth, expression melting from that of a startled deer to a flat deadpan. "Miss. It's miss."

"Ah, I see, sorry. Like I said, I rarely get visitors, especially not…any like you."

"You've never seen a human?"

The Goron scratches his chin. "Is that what you are? Well, now that I think about it, that reminds me of—"

A loud scuffling echoes from a tunnel branching off from the cavern we're in.

I side-step away from the sound. "What was that?"

"That's probably just Old Gray. I imagine she's getting hungry again." The Goron stoops to pick up the bucket. "She's getting very difficult to feed. But you should see her, miss. There's not a bird on this earth as big as her."

"Bird…?" I stand shell-shocked, not daring to hope.

I hear the scuffle again, this time picking up on the sound of sweeping, ruffling feathers.

I lean my body towards the tunnel, but my feet remain stuck, and it is only my high, strained voice that goes the distance. "Turkey?"

Silence.

And then an eagle's roar shakes the caverns, followed by the swift pounding of feet on dirt. Turk bursts from the tunnel not a moment later.

My vision blurs, and the image of Turk wavers. "Turk!" I scream, running to the giant dapple-gray Loftwing.

He answers me with a shriek of his own, the jackass not bothering to use his inside voice, and my ears feel as if they will burst from the caverns acoustics.

I bounce up and down, reaching for his beak. "Get your frickin' face down here so I can hug it, you dickwad!"

His face slams into my chest, knocking me down and expelling the air from my lungs.

I shakily lift my head. "Dick," I wheeze, before flopping fully to the ground.

"I see, so this bird is yours." The Goron, who has introduced himself as Golo, nods understandingly at the abridged, and slightly fibbed, story I gave him. "He came to me pretty roughed up, but he's done nicely here. Though I'm surprised he's not a she…"

"He's a he," I confirm, scratching Turk's head, bent down so I may reach it. "And…and he says thank you. From both of us." I bite my tongue and scold myself for letting my voice wobble. My vision starts to blur, and I know I need to get out of here before I start crying again.

"It's not a problem. I do what I can. But if you really want to thank me… This excavating business takes a lot of funding."

My heart sinks, and I futilely pat my pockets. "I don't have any rupees on me now, but—but if I get my hands on any, you'll be the first to know."

"That's all right. Just thought I'd ask."

"No." I stand straighter. "I mean it. I really owe you—it'll make me feel better if I gave you something in return."

Golo's face lights. "Thanks, miss."

And so, with a promise and many near-groveling 'thank-you's, I lead Turk out of the tunnels. He almost gets stuck in the narrower passages, and I realize I can't take him the way I came. With the social fluidity of a twelve-year-old, I stumble back through the cavern and ask Golo for directions out.

The blue sky greets us. Turk lets out a cry that almost sounds like a sigh, stretching his wings out and skyward.

I stand beside him, stroking under his wing and looking for any signs of lingering damage. "Can you fly now?"

He answers by taking off.

I am left in the wind and dust, gawking after him. "Don't just leave me! Turk! Turk! You frickin' turkey ass, get back here!"

Turk circles me like a vulture, lowering altitude only to rear back up, again and again, bobbing almost tauntingly. I yell and scream, my skin flushing redder and redder. I wave my arms and stomp my feet, for a moment feeling like I'm back on Skyloft. The feeling is so profound, I do not notice when the jeweled collar around my neck starts to tingle.

A/N: I've taken the advice given and kept the rating at T for now. You will be warned a chapter beforehand should it change. Thanks!