Chapter 26
For this adventure, Ravi placed a stone on the table every day Link was away. On the third stone, he let Cherry into the house. The fifth stone, he put the finishing touches on a new flying machine for Link, with two fans meticulously angled and welded to a control console. He flew it up the hill and displayed it on the grass in view of the shrine above the house. Waiting for Link.
On the seventh stone, he carried Cherry upstairs, avoiding dirty paws on the training mat, and let the dog sleep on his bed.
The ninth day, he hung from the ladder for four minutes. Restless, he ventured with his korok escorts to the edge of his boundary. He cleared out a monster outpost using fifteen arrows and eight of his new muddle bud smoke bombs. After the battle, he was breaking horns from the skeletons of the slain beasts when he realized he hadn't heard the rattle of the koroks for some time. He glanced around the lonely hillside, watching the grass swaying in the wind. Slowly, the hair stood up on the back of his neck. His body stiffened. Ever so subtly, he sniffed the air.
Bananas.
Ravi spun from the final corpse. Abandoning the treasure chest, he sprinted for the distant korok light, hopping frantically through the grass. Ravi leaped into the boundary. The koroks raced at his heels as he jumped on Sadee's back and spurred her up the hill. At home, he bolted the door and braced it with a heavy book case. Then he sat on the table, arrow on his bowstring, aching for Link's fist to pound on his own door. But the only thing that arrived was a bundle of muddy laundry in the transfer chest, smelling like gloom and a forest.
On the tenth night, Ravi carried Cherry up the stairs. He wiped down her paws, tucked her between his sheets, and hugged her furry body, burying his face in the scruff of her neck. A windy moan echoed through the empty house, from a gap in the door to the balcony. He felt like he was seven again, curled up in Mama's furs on Mama's bed, staring at their door in the Yiga hideout. Willing it to open. But it never did.
Ravi clutched Cherry, pressing into the flutter of her doggy heartbeat. Link will come back. He's the hero. He just went for a sword. It was just a sword.
He woke up the next morning to the dog scratching at his bedroom door. She whined.
Ravi tumbled out of bed. Kneeling at the door, he wrapped his arms around her. "Shhh."
She laid down and covered her snout with her paws. Barefoot, Ravi cracked open his door.
Link's bedroom door was shut, his dirty sock caught between the door and the frame.
Ravi sighed deeply. His heart pounded, loosening in relief, and he sat with his eyes closed for a moment, leaning against the wall. Then he jumped to his feet, smiling wide. He'll wake up starving.
He shooed the dog downstairs and outside. Ravi rushed through his morning chores, feeding and watering the sleepy horses. He carried in a fresh armful of wood and stoked up the kitchen fire to a healthy blaze. The morning was cool and foggy, but the fire chased the chill from the kitchen as Ravi peeled and chopped carrots, onions, greens, and potatoes. Oil sizzled in the frying pan, and he waved the scent of the hash toward the stairs. He heated up yesterday's red pepper soup, which Rhondson had taught him, and baked two bass in butter over the fire, plating them with lemon wedges and chopped dill, like Link had done a few weeks ago.
He spread the dishes out on the table, then rushed outside and picked a bouquet of flowers from the pond below the spring. He placed the vase in the center of the table and stood back, hands planted on his hips, and nodded. Then he sat on his stool and waited for Link.
With a napkin, he chased flies away from the bowls of food. He nibbled on potatoes from the hash. But the stairs remained quiet. Ravi sighed, covered the bowls, and stomped upstairs. At Link's door, he lifted his fist to pound on the slats, but paused. Instead, he tugged on the latch.
"Link?" He called softly through the door.
There was no response.
Ravi's heart leaped into his throat. He ran and fetched his lock pick kit and set to work quickly. The latch gave, and Ravi eased the door open. He stuck his head into the room.
The bedroom was cold, untouched by the warmth of a fire. Curtains masked the windows. Link lay in bed, on his side facing the wall, blankets pulled up so high, only the crown of his yellow hair peeked out.
The Master Sword leaned against the wall, above a pile of discarded clothes.
Ravi watched the subtle rise and fall of Link's ribcage under the blanket, counting the short, steady breaths.
"I made breakfast," Ravi said softly.
The swordsman didn't twitch.
"Potato hash, buttered bass, and pepper soup."
Link lay rigid as stone.
Ravi stepped into the room.
"Leave me alone." The whisper was so quiet, Ravi almost didn't hear it.
The boy stepped back. He retreated into the doorway, then his cheeks flushed with heat and he pulled the door shut. Send me away, will you? He scrambled downstairs and stood over the breakfast, breathing fast. Then he dropped into his chair and helped himself.
He was scraping the last of his soup from his bowl when a creak sounded on the stairs behind him. Ravi dropped his spoon in the bowl with a clatter and twisted around on his stool.
Link stood on the third stair in his bedclothes, shaggy hair loose, shirt hanging off his right shoulder. Shadows ringed his red eyes. He stared at the table without expression, like he didn't know where he was. It took a full minute for his eyes to register the food.
"The soup's still warm." Ravi wiped his mouth with his napkin. "I'll heat up the hash. Sit down. Tell me where you found the sword."
Link flinched. He grasped the railing and hauled himself upstairs, dragging his feet like he wore iron boots.
As he disappeared, Ravi spun himself back to his plate. "I told you," he muttered, "you have to talk to me. I can't read your mind."
But the hash lost its flavor on his tongue. Leaving his meal half-finished, he piled up a plate and carried the food up to Link's door. He knocked once, with no response, so he left it on the floor, then changed into his exercise clothes and escaped into the fresh air. He wants to be stubborn? Let him.
The tray was still there, untouched, at mid-day. Ravi ate what he could salvage, fed the rest to Cherry, and left Link with a bowl of sunny rice porridge. But the door didn't open. At supper, Ravi traded the porridge for sundelion tea and knocked sharply on the door.
"Is your arm hurting? Is there a blood moon tonight?" he called.
There was no answer.
He pushed open the door.
Link's bed was empty, the blankets twisted into knots. The Master Sword was gone.
Ravi's chest tightened. He spun around, kicking over the mug of tea, and raced downstairs. At the door, he hopped on one leg and yanked on his boots, then rushed outside.
The sun was setting behind him, fire-orange. Red clouds streaked the sky, slender and sharp, like the sky had been rent open by claws.
"Link!" Ravi shouted. The wind snatched away his voice.
A korok popped out of the grass. "We saw him." The spirit pointed downhill toward a promontory jutting out over the sea. "He went that way."
Ravi took off running.
His heels pounded the dirt across the road, then the grass flicked across the shins of his boots as he raced downhill toward a set of ruins. It used to be a watchtower, Link had told him, before clearing the spit of monsters. For me, so I wouldn't have to worry.
He spun around the corner of the crumbling wall. Panting, he slid to a stop.
Link was sitting cross-legged on the edge of the cliff. The Master Sword lay in the grass at his knee. He gazed down at the ocean, at the shrine in the center of the spiral sandbar, twisting a Silent Princess in his fingers.
Ravi stood rooted to the grass beside the wall. A pit opened in his stomach, and a flash of anger leaped up inside him. Why does it always have to be Zelda? But he pushed the voice down and stepped forward. "What happened?"
Link sucked in a sharp breath. His chin dropped to his chest.
Ducking around the wall, Ravi studied the landscape. They were still within the korok's boundary, but he listened, peered into the shadows, felt for anomalies in the invisible strings of light. Satisfied they were alone—for now—he returned to Link and sat a few feet from his right shoulder, with the sword between them.
Link twisted the flower in his hands. He wore his blue Champion's tunic and his favorite tan pants, stained and splitting at the knees. "I—" His voice caught. It was a minute before he tried again. "I found her."
"Princess Zelda?"
The swordsman nodded. Pain clenched his face. The flower stem broke in his fingers. He spread the flower on his knee, delicately smoothing one petal flat at a time.
Ravi remembered grasping his mother's letter to his chest. There was nothing anyone could say. "Is she dead?"
"She might as well be." He glanced up at the orange sky. "She turned herself into the light dragon."
Ravi's eyes flared wide. "Why?"
Link glared at the Master Sword. "To give me a chance to save Hyrule." He spat the last word out. "She's been flying around up there for thousands of years, through wars, famines, droughts, plagues. Apparently, all through my first quest. She's been circling Hyrule endlessly, infusing the Master Sword with sacred light. Healing what I broke." He bit his knuckle.
"You didn't break it," Ravi said.
"Does it matter?"
Ravi's eyebrows knit, confused. "But you had the Master Sword during your first quest. You pulled it out of the pedestal. Yet… Zelda had one, too, at the same time? Are there two swords?"
Link threw up his hands. "I don't know how these things work. I flew up to the light dragon and pulled the sword out of her head. And she fought me." He closed his eyes. "She didn't remember who I was."
Grief radiated from the hero, like Ravi was sitting next to a puddle of gloom.
"Why does she have to do these things?" Link muttered. "She was the Sage of Time. She got into the past—she could have gotten herself out. Why is she always so dramatic?"
"Is it permanent?"
Blood rushed into Link's pale cheeks. "Yes, it's permanent. They warned her." He climbed to his feet. His face hardened. "If I was there, I could have found another way. She didn't have to give up her soul. All those wise sages. And not one of them stopped her."
He grasped the middle ring on his right hand. A tangle of emotion screwed up his face, then he jerked the ring from his finger and dropped it in the grass.
"Link."
Victory flashed across his eyes. He yanked off a second ring, then a third. He collected four rings, raised his hand, and dropped them all at once. Drawing in a satisfied breath, he snatched up the Master Sword, spun on his heel, and marched up the hill.
Ravi's heart hammered. He fell to his knees and collected the fallen rings. They were hot in his palm, heavier than they looked. With the rings in his pocket, he ran up the hill, chasing the break in the grass: the swordsman's unswerving trail home.
When he reached the house, korok lights clustered around the front porch, trembling, rattling with worry. Ravi shoved through the front door. He stood by the table, listening as a clatter sounded upstairs, then a heavy thump, like a chest opening. Link's boots tapped quickly down the stairs.
Ravi shrank back.
The swordsman had changed into an outfit Ravi had never seen before: dark blue tights, brown boots, a pale blue tunic, and a silver breastplate. Under a pointed blue cap, his hair had turned snow white. Crimson war paint blazed on his cheekbones. But it was his eyes. They glowed white, masking his pupils, burning with vengeful fire.
The man who used to be Link marched to the twisted blue great sword hanging on the wall. He grasped the hilt.
"Don't!" Ravi cried, jumping forward.
But Link jerked the sword off the mount, and as the plaque shifted, a knife clattered to the floor.
Ravi turned to stone.
Link picked up the Zora knife and examined its black Yiga sheath. He turned to Ravi. Read the expression on the boy's face. "What is this?"
"I…" Ravi's mouth dried. He felt like he was rolling, unstoppable, toward a cliff. "I was going to take it back."
Link stared at him. His silence was worse than speaking. Like he was counting back the weeks, the tonics, the campfire meals along the road.
"I swear," Ravi whispered. "I was waiting for a trip to Zora's Domain."
"I want you to leave."
"What?"
Link pointed toward the door with the knife. "You stole this. You lied to me. Get out of my house."
Ravi stared at him, but Link didn't move. "Now?"
The swordsman nodded.
"But… I…" Ravi scratched for a handhold as he slid to the cliff. "You need me."
"I beat Ganon the first time without a squire. I can do it again."
This wasn't real. Ravi dragged his feet toward the stairs, slowly, waiting for Link to call him back.
"And take your dog," Link said. "It's been in my house. I can smell it."
Ravi spun around. "I don't need you, either! I was fine with the Yiga! I was surviving."
"You think I wanted to save you?"
Ravi doubled over. His chest seized. He drew in a ragged breath. "Then why did you?"
Link broadened his shoulders. "I'm the Hero. It was my duty." He dropped the knife on the table and lifted his chin. His jaw trembled. "Pack your things. You will return the knife to the Zora, then go back to your grandmother."
Ravi edged backward until his heel collided with the bottom step. Without removing his boots, he spun and ran up the stairs. In his bedroom, he dug his backpack from under his bed and blindly pulled a shirt from the trunk. He felt himself moving, saw his hands shaking out and refolding the shirt, but they weren't his hands. This was wrong. This wasn't Link.
He whirled and ran downstairs.
Link stood waiting by the door, arms crossed, white brows furrowed.
Ravi threw the empty pack at his feet. "Everything I have belongs to you. Take it back. Maybe you can get a refund."
The swordsman's jaw twitched. He turned to the door.
"You know what the Yiga will do if they catch me?" Ravi clenched his fists, breathing short. "They'll brand my face. Then they'll slice my stomach and hang my body for the keese, so everyone can see you don't cross the Yiga."
Link winced and gripped his forehead. He fumbled with his pouch and two silver rupees clinked to the floor. "Hire Rhondson to escort you home. I can't fix everything."
He punched the door open and marched outside, jerking the Purah Pad from his hip. The door swung shut with a bang.
Ravi jumped. He held his breath, waiting, but Link didn't return. He rushed across the room, striking his hip on the table, and burst outside.
Link stood in the grass, gazing out at the spiral sandbar.
"I was stupid," Ravi gasped. "It was a mistake. I didn't know you—I thought I was on my own. I was trying to survive." But what about after you knew him? His stomach churned with nausea. "Please. I'll work it off. You don't have to train me—I'll be your servant. I'll sleep in the stable."
Link drew a black flask from his pouch. He spit out the cork and downed Ravi's latest concoction, wincing as the anti-gloom elixir hit his stomach.
"Please." Ravi squeezed his hands together.
The swordsman turned, finger poised over the blue screen. A tear leaked from his burning eye and trailed down his cheek. "I'm sorry," he murmured, then jammed his finger into the pad.
The blue strings floated away. Ravi felt the bond between him and Link stretching like sinew across Hyrule—across land and sky and Depths. Then it was suddenly cut.