CHAPTER 17
And it wasn't.
The very next thing that Link knew, in fact, he was lying on solid ground. Flat on his back. Limbs splayed. Head spinning slightly, though that sensation faded within a few minutes. He hadn't even felt the landing, which meant that – for now, at least – he and Ruto were unharmed.
He gradually sat up, still holding a petrified Ruto close to his chest. He immediately found Epona, who looked no worse for wear and had already begun to gobble the long, lush grass as though nothing had happened. The trees that surrounded them were even more lavish than the grass – and Link was absolutely certain that he recognized every single one of them, just as he recognized the lingering tune that continued to echo through the area. He sat there for several minutes, quietly taking in their surroundings and steadily realizing precisely where they were.
The Lost Woods.
They were home – nearly home, at least. They were, this time truly, in Hyrule.
Naught had changed since he'd entered Termina, either. Not the fairy-lights orbiting the trees. Not the massive stone maze with entrance-tunnels shaped from giant logs. Not the disorienting arrangement of the maze's walls, which led unwary travelers in circles more often than not.
And certainly not the mischievous cackle that greeted him from behind, the slightly rough-voiced laughter of a lost child's wandering spirit – a Skull Kid. Was this the same Skull Kid that brought him into Termina, or had another taken his place?
"Well, what have we here?" the Skull Kid asked, as Link turned to face him. Or her. "A lost horse and her fairy-boy, too. Long time, no see."
"Likewise," Link replied, standing. He loosened his grip on the fearful Ruto, then took a thorough look at the Skull Kid's face. . . . . . . . .or, rather, the mask that he wore. "Is that the mask that I gave you? I could've sworn that. . . . . . . . ."
"What?" The Skull Kid cocked his head to the right, palpably confounded. (Link, for his part, was now certain that this particular Skull Kid was a male.)
"Well, aren't you quite fed up with the bloody things? Majora's Mask, especially – "
"Major who?"
Link bristled for a moment, unsure how to respond. "You. . . . . . . . . are the same Skull Kid, aren't you? The one that I gave that mask to?"
The Skull Kid scoffed. "Heavens, no! That idiot sodded off weeks ago. He said something about a desire to see new places and make new friends. As though the forest doesn't have plenty of both to choose from! Oh, well. At least I got this mask out of the bargain. He left it behind, you see. . . . . . . . ."
"Finders, keepers. I understand completely," Link replied meekly. "Your kind all look the same, is all. I meant no offense."
"I took no offense. Though I have always thought myself far more handsome than – "
No sooner had the Skull Kid thought to comment on his fellow's looks than he glimpsed the small fish-like creature in Link's arms. "Well, hello, there! What a fine specimen," he discerned, his vanity quite quickly forgotten. "Gods, I'm famished. Shall I start a cooking-fire?"
Ruto scrambled to take cover beneath Link's tunic. As though on cue, he drew his bow, propelling a single arrow in the Skull Kid's general direction. The Skull Kid giggled as he leaped out of the way, just in time for the arrow to lodge itself in the hickory-log on which he'd been standing, and vanished into thin air with a strangely well-practiced flourish.