Chapter 13

Tucked in his blanket, Rat opened his eyes. He sat against the stone chimney where he'd fallen asleep, Link's silver bokoblin sword across his knees. The fire had died down to white ash. Gray morning light shone through the curtains over the cabin's small, only window. He wasn't ready to leave the warmth of the blankets, though his legs were numb and his neck ached from sleeping at an angle.

A blue glow illuminated Link's bed. The swordsman faced the wall, gazing at the screen on his Purah Pad. Silently, Rat sat up tall and peeked over the man's shoulder.

Link swiped slowly through a series of frozen images: a snowy mountain, a green field, Zora's Domain, a sunny beach. Every picture centered on the same girl.

Her golden hair was a shade lighter than Link's hair, and they had similar blue eyes. But where Link's eyes were cool and thoughtful, hers were lively. Curious. Link stalled on a picture of the girl wearing a blue dress and a simple gold crown. She stood on a platform at a ceremony, giving a speech to a colorful crowd. Flowers and celebration streamers decorated the platform, and her face was bright with hope.

Link swiped again to a scene from a stable. The girl wore a blue traveler's tunic, and she kneeled in the dirt, dabbing her handkerchief to the eyes of a crying child. He swiped again to the girl standing over a stone plaque on the ground. She clutched a bouquet of white and blue lilies, an expression of reverent sadness on her pretty face. In the next image, the gold-haired girl sat in a hot spring with a young Gerudo. They wore bathing clothes, and their heads were thrown back, laughing at a secret joke. Link stared at the image for a second, then quickly swiped away.

He settled on a last picture of the blonde girl, her long hair cut short, kneeling in a flower garden. She wore gardening gloves and a straw hat hung behind her back. Dirt smudged her cheek. The sunset glowed around her head, and she smiled serenely as she pressed a clump of flowers into the earth. Link touched the screen. His hand lingered, like he was reaching through the pad, across time.

Rat's nose tickled. He sniffed.

Link slammed the pad face-down on the bed. He sat up and spun around.

"Was that Princess Zelda?" Rat asked.

Blood rushed into Link's cheeks. The tips of his ears turned red. He swung his legs out of bed, threw the blankets over the mattress, and pulled them straight, lining the hem meticulously with the top of the mattress. He fussed with the pillow, avoiding Rat's eyes.

So the rumors are true.

Rat bit his lip against a grin. Stiffly, he stood and shook out his blanket, folding it while Link kneeled by the hearth and stirred up the coals. His ears still blazed red.

"I'll go check on Aurora," Rat said. Still biting down a grin, he wrapped himself in the doublet and tugged on his socks and boots, which had dried overnight by the fire. The muscles in his legs ached from yesterday's ride; he waddled with a wide gait, like a duck, as he cracked open the cabin door and stamped out into the snow.

A few minutes later, Rat came stamping back. He swung open the door and stood just inside the threshold. He twisted his gloves. His heart hammered; he tried to speak, but his voice wouldn't work.

As Rat's silence stretched on, Link looked up from the fresh fire. His eyebrows pinched in concern. "What's wrong with her?"

Rat's voice cracked. "She's gone."

Link's eyes flew open. He yanked on his snow pants, which had magically repaired themselves overnight, and shrugged on his thick coat—also repaired. Coat flapping open, he shoved his feet into his boots and burst out of the cabin.

Several inches of fresh snow had fallen overnight. Link plunged through Rat's tracks and slid to a stop outside the stable. The door hung open, with a ridge of snow gathered on each slat: it had been open through the night.

"I latched it," Rat croaked. "I swear."

A flush of color rushed into Link's cheeks. He squatted and brushed his hand across the hay, and glanced over a pile of frozen manure. Her tack lay in the corner where Rat had dropped it, dusted with snow. Standing, he spun around and marched into the snow. He glanced around the hilltop, but her tracks had vanished under the fresh snowfall. He raised his hands and whistled.

"I fed her the oats," Rat said. "She was eating them—"

"Quiet."

Rat hunched his shoulders, making himself small. Link whistled again. Waited. She didn't answer.

Karta. Rat's breath snorted from his nose like steam. I'm going to kill him.

Link marched back into the cabin. Bracing himself, Rat followed.

In the cabin, Link buckled his leather guard over his coat and strapped on his hauberk, sliding his sword home with a sharp ring. He buckled on his tool belt, fingers flying with practiced efficiency. As Rat picked up his backpack, Link's eyes shot to him, sharp as the cut of a knife. Rat drew in a breath, but Link said nothing. The swordsman punched the door open and strode out into the snow.

Rat swung on his pack, tied his sword to his waist, and followed him to the stable. Link retrieved Aurora's tack, stowing it in his magic pouch. Then he returned to the road, where he stood shin-deep in snow, navigating the Purah Pad, until his jaw clenched in frustration and he hooked it back on his belt.

"Can you track her?" Rat asked.

"I never took her picture." Link gazed up the road. He crossed his arms, thinking.

"Do you think she went back to Snowfield Stable?"

"No."

"Why?"

"She wouldn't break out of a stable to travel to another one. She wanted something—bad enough to leave her shelter. Or…" His eyebrows pinched.

Rat's stomach fell, then flipped in anxiety. Yiga. He's thinking it.

Link turned abruptly and marched downhill, following the road as it descended the mountain. Rat tightened his backpack straps and shuffled after him. Every hundred yards, Link cast out a whistle into the brisk air. The clouds had vanished overnight, and the sun slowly rose, lighting up the pale blue sky. His stomach gurgled, and Link's ear twitched at the sound, but he didn't touch his pouch.

Heat rose in Rat's chest. He dug a bruised tomato from his backpack and bit sharply. A stream of juice squirt from the fruit and splattered on Link's shoulder.

The swordsman spun around. He clenched his jaw, breathing short and fast through his nose. He sighed, letting it go, and turned back to the road.

"I'm sorry!" Rat called after him. "All right?"

Back stiff, Link continued walking.

Without chewing, Rat swallowed the last of the tomato, then ran in front of Link and pulled up in his face. He raised his fists. "You wanna hit me? Go ahead. I can take it."

"It was an honest mistake." He stepped around the boy.

Rat jumped back into his path. "Let me fix it. I'll help you find her."

"What can you do?"

"Anything. Teach me, and I'll do it."

"No." Link slid around Rat again.

For a moment, Rat wavered, as Link's boots crunched farther away. Rat hesitated a second longer, then ran after Link and jumped into his path.

Link stopped just before he ran into the boy. "What do you want from me?"

"I don't want to be your squire!" Rat cried. "I don't want another master. You think you can save my life twice, and I'll fall at your feet in worship? Oh, great Link. The noble hero, taking pity on a lost boy in the Depths. I could have saved myself anytime!"

"How?"

Rat's chest rose and fell with hot breaths. "I was going to steal a balloon."

"How would you get it to the chasm?"

"I was raising a frox."

Link lifted his eyebrow.

"You don't believe me. No one believes in me, but I could have done it."

The swordsman glanced at Rat's fists, balled up in their oversized gloves. "Sharp words might earn you points among the Yiga, but if you want me to treat you like a man, act like one." He stepped around Rat.

Rat threw his gloves down in the swordsman's path. He fumbled with the strings on his belt and yanked his rusty blade free. "Draw your sword."

Link crossed his arms.

Rage boiled over inside Rat, and without waiting for the weapon, he rushed in. The man slipped to the side quicker than he should be able to move in the snow. Rat stumbled past, planted his heel, recovered, and spun around. Idiot. Use your training. Show him what you can do.

He vanished and reappeared in the air behind the swordsman's head. But Link was no longer there. A hand grabbed Rat's ankle and yanked him down. The boy rolled in the snow, but kicked out at the back of Link's knee. The man's leg buckled, and Rat scrambled to his feet.

"I can take you!" Rat shouted.

Link smirked.

Rat charged again. He feinted left, then at the last second, pivoted and swung the hilt of the blade from the right, aiming to club the man in the ribs. Link caught his wrist. He twisted. Rat gasped, and the sword fell from his fingers. Link's boot came down on the blade. He released Rat's arm, and the boy dropped low. Blood pulsed hot in Rat's ears. He knew he was being a child, breaking all the rules of his training, but he snatched at the handle, trying to tug it from under Link's boot. A snap sounded, and he tumbled back, clutching a broken blade. The other half remained under Link's boot.

Panting, Rat fell into a stance. "It's your fault!" he shouted. "I was down there, in the dark, because of you!" The rage broke out of him, like a dam releasing its water. His legs melted, and he dropped to his knees.

Link stood silently over him.

Rat held the broken sword in his lap. "I waited for you." His voice cracked. "For four years. I prayed to your precious goddess. But you never came."

The wind gusted up the road, carrying the smell of fresh pine from the lower lands.

"Who threw you down there?" Link asked quietly.

Rat curled his fingers around the hilt. "Karta."

"Why?"

"Because I called Kohga a Banana Belly. And I was glad he was gone."

A smile twitched at the corner of the man's mouth. "'Banana Belly?' I wish I'd thought of that." He extended his hand to help Rat stand. "Let's have some breakfast. You're tired and hungry. It's been a long journey."

"They sent me to kill you."

Link froze, hand still extended.

Rat lifted his eyes. "The Yiga found me at Wetland Stable. They told me to lead you to the abandoned village."

Slowly, Link pulled back his hand.

"I didn't know there would be a gloom monster," Rat muttered. "I thought monsters like that were only in the Depths, or I would have taken you straight to the village."

"The chasm is in Rito Village?"

Rat's eyes fell to the snow. His heart pounded low, like a deep drum. It beat thicker as the man's silence stretched on, but he pushed himself to his feet and braced himself, tensing to fight or run.

Finally, Link sighed. He clutched his temples, then ran his hand down his weary face. "Why didn't you tell me?"

Rat swallowed, throat dry. His stomach churned, about to spit up the tomato. He wanted to run up the road and never look back. "They said…" He bit his cheek, and glanced up at Link. The man watched him quietly—the anger from this morning was gone. "Karta said he would take me to my mother."

Link's eyes flared wide.

"He said she might be alive." Rat clutched the hilt of his broken sword. "I have to find her. I have to know the truth."

"What happened to your mother?"

"She went out looking for my father and never came back," Rat said. "A year later, in the spring, they found her pack sticking out of the snow in a crevice on a mesa. But they never found her body. I was seven."

"You've been on your own in the clan for five years?"

Rat nodded.

"Why did they keep you?"

Rat shrugged. "I did their chores. Kohga respected my mother. Everyone did. And they owed it to my father. He was a Blademaster."

The swordsman began walking down the road again, and Rat followed him in silence. "Do you have any other clues where she might be?" Link glanced back at him. "Did she have any family? Anything she carried that might identify her?"

The boy shook his head. "She never talked about her family, but she burned a letter once. I found a fragment in the ashes. It was from Laurelin Village."

Link nodded. "Did Karta show you any proof she was alive?"

An icy shiver ghosted through Rat. His feet slowed until they came to a halt, then he sat down suddenly in the snow.

Link turned.

In the center of the road, Rat hugged his knees into his chest and curled into a ball. Wet snow seeped through the seat of his pants. I can't do this, Mama. He closed his eyes and dropped his forehead to his knees. He tried to imagine her arms drifting around him, rubbing his back, forgiving him. Saying she didn't care if he was an idiot. But her voice wouldn't come.

Boots crunched through the snow. They stopped in front of him. Rat squeezed his knees, curling deeper into himself. Weapons clinked as Link kneeled.

Tears swelled in Rat's throat. "She's dead. Karta was lying. She's been dead all this time. But Karta had to say something. What if it's true?"

Link nodded, listening.

"What if she's forgotten me?" Rat murmured. "Or what if she's been searching for me, but I've been in the Depths, and she thought I was dead?" He squeezed his arms, then scrambled to his feet. "I have to find her."

Link stood with him.

"I don't care what it takes," Rat declared to the mountain. "I'll do it. With you, or with Karta. I don't care. She needs me."

"What is your name?"

Rat stared at Link.

The man's eyes were bright, on the verge of an answer. "What did your mother call you? I can't imagine she named you 'Rat.'"

Slowly, the boy drew himself up. No one had spoken his name in five years. "My parents called me Ravi."

The man stared at him. He studied the boy for so long, Rat wondered if he'd sprouted a second nose. Then a quiet smile spread across Link's face. "A hundred years ago, Revali was the champion of the Rito. He was a proud warrior, a master of the bow. He didn't like me, but he fought with me to the very end."

Rat's gaze dropped to the snow.

"Ravi," Link said, and the boy lifted his eyes. "Would you like to be my squire?"