Hey guys! Sorry again about the inconvenience. I think that I'll start posting the new chapters as their own fic here on . Thank you for your reviews!

Chapter 7: The Gale of a Good Deal

As it would turn out, King Caudalis "finally knowing what to do with Percy" meant dragging the demigod in question up several flights of slippery stairs.

They were beautiful stairs — just like every other part of the domain — and sculpted out of glowing blue stones and glass that would make Annabeth jump for joy. Afternoon mist and rain clung to the railing and steps, challenging Percy to a high stakes game of slip n' slide. King Caudalis politely ignored the boy nearly eating his own teeth several times behind him.

"Here we are," Caudalis said, outlined by the light at the end of the stairs, "Rutela Dam."

If Percy wasn't busy trying not to trip, fall, and die, he might have giggled.

As he neared the last step, Percy realized that the stairs weren't just slippery from the weather; water poured over the edge of the staircase, pooling several hundred feet below. King Caudalis ignored it, splashing forward in several inches of rainwater.

"Oh, gods," Percy breathed.

The dam seemed to be minutes away from collapse, the glass-stone platform they stood on awash in flood water. Across the reservoir small hills like fish heads emerged from the dark water. Several waterfalls dripped from the slate blue cliffs behind tree tops flickering in the waves.

King Caudalis sighed, slowly loping to the end of the flooded dock. "I know. And the weather only draws our doom closer."

"How long do you have?"

"I don't think you have to ask."

He was right, of course; Percy could see the dam straining against the buildup. The scaffolding cloaking it would only prolong the inevitable collapse by seconds at best.

"So . . ." Percy began, "you said that you had something to do with me? What do you mean by that?"

The king's eyes remained on the dam as he said, "I received word from Hyrule Castle that they require Zora aid."

". . . And?"

"I have no people to send," he murmured. "Everyone is along the river, keeping monsters and travelers away."

Percy waited for him to say more, but King Caudalis remained silent as ever. "But. . . . What does any of that have to do with me? I'm not a Zora."

He turned away quickly, as though he couldn't bear to look anymore. "Given your circumstances, Young Percy, I feel that it would be in your best interest to go to Hyrule Castle. I'm afraid that the princess is better equipped for your situation than I am."

"So you're sending me away?" Percy tried not to sound hurt; he failed.

"That's what I'm going to do — at some point. But as I said earlier, I have no one to send with you. The postman is already on his way back with my refusal as we speak. The princess might send a Zora embassy or trader afterwards, and when they arrive you will return with them."

Percy glanced warily at the cracked dam. "That could take days."

"Yes."

"You don't have days."

"No. By the time the princess arranges for someone to come to us, the entire kingdom will be flooded." King Caudalis glared skyward; he flinched as though every rain drop stung like acid. "Unless this storm leaves us . . . all we have is hope."

"Don't sound so down, King Zora."

Both turned to the intruder behind them. Standing politely at the end of the stairs was a short, stocky old man with a sharp goatee, a hat as bowed as his frame shading his narrow face. The cold rain rolled off of his peculiar robes, colored an oddly pleasing combination of beige, navy, and crimson. To Percy's despair, he wasn't human; he had the right face and body, but his ears were pointed instead of round. Despite his confident interruption, his smile was both warm and awkward; Percy had the impression that he didn't quite know what to do in front of the king.

"Oh, I'm sorry; I completely forgot about the time. I'm happy to see you." King Caudalis looked anything but happy. "Percy, this is Tenji-san. Tenji-san, this is Percy Jackson. He has been staying at the domain since yesterday."

"It's nice to meet you," Tenji-san said. Now that Percy got a closer look at him, he could see that his hair was snowy white, his eyes rusty red. They didn't scare him, though; Tenji looked more eager to bake him cookies than turn into a monster.

"Likewise."

"Tenji-san is here from Kakariko Village; it's a little ways away, settled between some small mountains. He's the last architect willing to handle the dam."

Percy was having trouble listening, as Tenji-san was busy staring deeply into his eyes. His welcoming smile still remained, but. . . . Well, Percy had to wonder if the old man was challenging him to a staring competition.

King Caudalis cleared his throat loudly.

"Oh, my apologies!" Tenji-san leaned away from them. "I just. . . . I'm surprised that you aren't working on the project as well, Young Percy."

Percy shuffled his feet, which was hard to do safely in five inches of water. "Um, why?"

The old man stared incredulously at the two. "You must sense it too, King Zora."

"Sense what?"

"Why, our Percy has the Spirit of Water in him! Just look at his eyes!"

"I'm not possessed!" the demigod defended.

"No, no," King Caudalis told him, though he looked awfully sure as he drilled holes in Percy's face with his gaze. "Tenji-san means that you have a strong connection with water. I-I can't believe I didn't notice until now."

Tenji-san patted the Zora's arm reassuringly. "It's alright, King Zora. You've had enough on your shoulders recently; how could you possibly be on the lookout for this?"

"I should have been." The king kneeled down; even kneeling, he still towered over both of them. "Percy, are you particularly . . . adept with water?" The demigod's shocked silence must have spoken volumes, for he added "Be honest with me."

He could see several ways this could go in his mind, his greatest worries being that the king would either attack him for keeping his secrets or kick him out into the wilderness to fend for himself. But no fate seemed as bad as refusing to tell him altogether.

Percy's gut tugged familiarly as he drew the water towards him, willing it to snake along his leg and up his arm. His observers' gasps were almost painful in his ears.

So, the Mist doesn't work here, he thought.

The demigod sighed; he couldn't bring himself to look at them. "Look, I'm sorry about hiding it, but— What are you doing?"

King Caudalis — the ruler of Zora's Domain and far more powerful in title than Percy planned to ever be — was bowing at his feet. He looked so unnatural that way; his legs were right for it. Neither was his crown.

Tenji-san glanced at Percy, but Percy was doing just the same; what in Hades was wrong with him?

"Percy, I need your assistance more than anything right now. Without you, we are doomed." King Caudalis stared at the ground as he spoke to him. If Percy didn't already see the rainfall dripping off of him, he would have thought that the King was crying.

Tenji-san flinched beside him. "Goddesses, he's right." Without so much as asking, the elderly man took Percy's hand into his own. "Listen closely, now; the project King Zora summoned me here for . . . it could take weeks, and that's with a whole team of architects."

I wish my architect was here. "And I can change that," Percy deadpanned.

"Yes. I'm here to construct a drainage system below ground, which would empty out miles away in a forest we call Faron. And with your abilities, my boy, we could cut it down to days. Hours, even."

Oh, Percy thought, Annabeth would love this.

He was never good with architecture — or the math necessary for it, either. Of course, when Wise Girl ranted about cantilevers and building materials, he paid rapt attention; even though she might as well have been speaking an alien language, he couldn't ignore her—literally couldn't. She was always on his mind.

What Percy could grasp about architecture was that it was time consuming, difficult, and full of technicalities. He never put much thought into it before meeting Annabeth, but now he understood how every man-made structure he so much as stepped on took months of careful planning, hypothesis, and experimentation.

Which is also how Percy knew he wasn't qualified for the job.

Son of Poseidon or not, how in the hell could Percy dig a tunnel in a few hours. Percy was yet to read a map of Hyrule (not that he was good with maps to begin with), but from how heavy the two men groveling before him made it seem, Faron was far, far away. And he really didn't want to be responsible for an entire nation again.

But to see King Caudalis kneeling before him, Percy was painfully reminded of what was at stake. This man and his people had taken the demigod into their home, fed him, clothed him, and revealed the vulnerable state of themselves at the drop of a hat. Queen Scylio, who certainly had trouble walking on dry land during the last trimester of her pregnancy, had sat down beside him and taught him their ways. And the thought of betraying this trust, leaving the king and queens' child to live in a shattered world, added a new weight to Percy's sternum.

A debt is owed.

Percy sighed; so much for staying in Zora's Domain. He could almost hear Annabeth now, telling him to always remain where he is to await a rescue party. (As if she's following that rule right now lol.)

"King Caudalis, I'll do it."

The king nearly slipped and fell on his face, he stood so quickly. "You will?"

The demigod held up a hand. "But, I need you to do something for me. 'Covering my bases,' I guess you could say."

"I will do anything."

"Same here," Tenji-san agreed. His grip on Percy's hand tightened ever so slightly.

"A girl will come looking for me at some point." Percy took a deep breath. "Her name is Annabeth Chase."

The crowd parted warily as Reyna approached. Not far enough to be obvious — they pretended to fix something out of the way or to adjust their clothing — but they were less careful with their sideways glares. So be it; if the shopkeepers were so upset with her for terrorizing them, then they should have sold their wares to her.

They must have been pleased that she wasn't pursuing them, as they said nothing to her. She even caught a few glances at Gahreen and Geela, each bundled up in ragged cloaks. Reyna was beginning to consider buying them new ones; if Gahreen was better behaved, that is.

What Reyna couldn't understand was why the guards had to be so difficult. First, they were at the back of the group, easy to catch up to at a jog; now, they slowly drifted to the front as the trek continued. Cavalry boots were good for all sorts of weather, but tromping through wet, smelly sand was never meant to be easy.

Geela tugged on Reyna's cloak as she neared the front third of the group. She kneeled down to hear him. "Gahreen and I have to stop here."

"What? Why?"

"Because—" Gahreen looked around warily, then dropped his voice to a whisper. (Reyna was surprised that he could speak quietly at all.) "Because the guards know our faces. They won't listen to you if they see you're with us."

Reyna raised both eyebrows. "Oh? Been getting in trouble with the law lately, huh?"

Gahreen waved off her remark. "Just listen. That guard there, you see her?" He pointed to the gruff woman that dragged Muhtal off earlier. "That's Harba. She and Muhtal are. . . . What's the word again?"

"Frenemies," Geela said.

"Yeah, that. She might help you, but you can't speak to her directly. The other guards might know what you're up to."

"Slow down, slow down." Reyna pulled both boys out of the way of a woman lugging a pack twice her size. "How do you know they'll listen to me? I'm not very charming."

"You don't need to be," Gahreen deadpanned, which was definitely his way of saying Yeah, I noticed.

"Miss Reyna, how much do you know about Hyrule?" Geela asked.

"I don't know what that is."

This seemed to answer his question. "It's the nation we're in, and this is Gerudo Desert. It's named after the people here, the Gerudo." He gestured all around him. "And they are a tribe of all women. A boy is born to them once every century."

The idea of one boy per one hundred years seemed insane to Reyna, but as she looked around her it suddenly occured to her that Gahreen and Geela were the only boys she had encountered in the desert. All the merchants, innkeepers, and travelers (as few as they were) she saw around her were women, Gerudo or otherwise. The non-Gerudo travelers were human by their features and height, but Reyna lost her hopes for familiarity when she saw their ears — long and pointy and not at all human.

Of course, she had noticed the almost-humans as soon as she stumbled into Kara Kara Bazaar, but so far as the all-woman population. . . . It just hadn't crossed her mind. As Praetor, she should be more observant; obliviousness cost many a demigod their life. Maybe she was still so used to the Hunters and Amazons that it wasn't much of a difference to her. Yeah, that could be it.

"Where are you going with this?"

"What he's trying to say is that the Gerudo value a woman's — or vai's — rights over all else; they don't even allow boys into their town. Once we turn ten, we voe are forbidden from entering."

He looked back to the group of guards. "Not that I'd ever want to go to Gerudo Town. Muhtal said it's like a prison."

"Dinaara said it's like heaven," Geela argued.

"Okay, who is this Dinaara you keep mentioning?"

Geela shook his finned head. "Unimportant. Anyway, what you need to do is go to the guards and say that you want a moment alone to scold Muhtal."

Reyna glanced at the guards. Each and every one of them was tacked in blinding gold armor, spears or wickedly curved blades at their sides. One even carried a crimson-and-gold bow on her back. What's worse, every one of the guards was muscular enough to rip Reyna's arms off and beat her with them. Reyna was no warrior to scoff at herself, but they had numbers and at least three extra feet on her. If she was asked to make a last stand against a group like that, she certainly would, but surviving a fight with them was a different matter entirely.

She looked back at Geela. "I'm not sure that'll work."

"It'll work," Gahreen said, scratching his lip nonchalantly. "They have some law about letting vai challenge someone who wronged her or something. They have to honor it."

"I don't see how fighting her to death is going to help her escape being sacrificed."

"'Challenge' can mean all kinds of things. Like fighting—"

"Poetry battle," Geela interrupted.

"—and scolding," Gahreen explained.

"I better get to scolding then." Reyna pulled her hood farther over her face. "Are you sure you too will be fine?"

"Oh, yes," Geela assured her. He gave her a big, fanged smile. "We'll be just fine."

"Alright then." And with that, she surged forward.

xxx

"You heard me," Reyna said. "I need to speak with this vai. She tried to steal from me."

The guard before her tutted. "You must be a fool to think that we will stop guiding this entire entourage just for some human vai that wants to chastise a petty thief! You act as though you have never been stolen from before!"

Reyna tried unsuccessfully to keep her eye from twitching. "I know my rights. You are required by law to let me speak to her privately."

Harba, who had stomped towards the comotion, clapped her comrade on the shoulder. "She's right, Oulika. Just let the vai speak to her, for the goddesses sake. We could use a break."

"A break? You must be joking, Harba. We're about to be washed underneath the dunes! We have no time for a break!" Oulika fussed.

The damage had already been done, however. The heavyset soldiers carrying Muhtal's cage turned eagerly towards the other two.

"A break?"

"Please, we've been carrying this for so long!"

"Just a few minutes! Please?"

The woman groaned loud and long. "Fine! But don't expect me to buy any drinks for tonight." She leaned closer to Reyna. "You have five minutes, so you better be quick with your scathing comments."

The guards dispersed, placing the cage in the wet sand as they went off to the side to rest. Harba moved with the rest of them. Reyna could have sworn she saw her wink at her, but she might have just gotten a raindrop in her eye. She didn't seem like the type to help her.

Muhtal was posed dramatically in her cage, like she was meditating. If Reyna hadn't already met her earlier that day, she would have the thought that she looked awfully serene. Instead, she looked like she was trying to get a laugh out of her.

Reyna slammed her hand against the bars — not enough to hurt, but enough to sound intimidating. Muhtal peeked one of her green eyes open.

"Oh, it's you." She smoothed her pants out. "I was wondering when you would show up."

Show up? "I can't believe you, trying to steal from me!" She raised her voice just enough for the guards and complaining merchants to hear. "What is wrong with you? Where I come from, we chop off the hands of anyone who tries to steal armor off a stranger's back! You should be grateful that the guards got to you before I did!"

This was a lie, of course; the Romans usually only fined anyone who stole something. Sometimes they would kill them, yes; but Muhtal didn't know that.

The thief smiled impishly. "Is that so? Well, then I'm glad I tried! Armored foreigners are always a fun challenge."

Reyna threw around every curse she knew — Spanish, English, and Latin — as she deliberated over this. Fun challenge? She knew she was supposed to free Muhtal, but she felt more inclined to reach in and smack the girl instead. And what kind of thief likes a challenge, anyway? By the looks of Gahreen and Geela's patchwork clothes, Muhtal should have been stealing from anyone easy enough to pickpocket, not an armed woman. Unless. . . .

Reyna trailed off halfway through an insult regarding Muhtal's parentage. "You singled me out," she murmured.

"Did I?" Muhtal inspected a strand of her red hair. "Whatever gave you that idea?"

"Don't play dumb with me; I've interrogated far more intimidating people than you. Killed them, too."

Muhtal continued playing with her hair, staring at Reyna with dead-fish eyes.

The Praetor sighed. "If I get you out of this cage, will you tell me why?"

At that, Muhtal's eyes brightened. "Of course! Anything for my freedom. Now that that's settled—"

"Oh no, I'm not helping you that easily." Reyna glanced at the guards; hadn't it been five minutes already? They seemed to be looking at something else, Harba and Oulika approaching the rest of the evacuation group. "There will be no loopholes. As soon as I get you out of here, you'll explain everything to me. No tricks. No scams."

"Fine, fine." The thief sighed. "And I was so looking forward to loopholes. . . ."

Reyna was lucky that Muhtal's cage was wooden, or else busting her out would have been much more difficult. All she had to do was wait for a boom of thunder and it was done; her dagger cut through the bars like butter.

The pair had only gotten a few feet away when someone shrieked, "She's escaped! Guards! GUARDS!"

"Schist!" Reyna shouted; a soldier's spear missed her by a hair. Gahreen and Geela tumbled out of the crowd behind her, keeping surprisingly good pace on their odd feet.

"I know a place where we'll be safe," Muhtal assured her, narrowly avoiding being shot. "And then I can tell you all about how I 'singled you out.'"

"I must apologize again for losing my temper," Boss Kweiyu said, hobbling with his cane along the stone path. "I really shouldn't have made you see that, dear boy."

Leo shrugged nonchalantly; even so, he eyed the boss's cane warily. "Eh, it's fine. You're not the worst I've seen."

"That Peetu. . . . I have always made the proper means to be a calm, sage Goro, but he just always—Oh, now look at me." Steam poured out of his volcanic head. "Even just thinking about him has me fuming!"

Peetu was smart to stay so far away from them; he hung several feet behind, his big eyes tracing the outline of every rock on the path. He didn't look any worse than he did when he found Leo, but Boss Kweiyu's cane-cracking had clearly done more to his spirit than his body. The other Gorons, friendly earlier in the day, took one look at his sullen form and turned back the way they had come. Clearly, this wasn't too unusual.

"So. . . ." Leo kicked a stray rock into a lava pool. "You still haven't told me what's so wrong about me being human.

Boss Kweiyu slowed. "Now, there's nothing wrong with being a human. It's just that . . . well, we haven't seen a human in Hyrule in quite some time. And as for Death Mountain, I don't know of any such visitors."

Leo's heart plummeted in his chest. "Ah."

"I'm sorry to say it, but I'm afraid your situation must come to a stand still for now. Normally, I would send a wayward soul to Hyrule Castle for aid, but. . . ." The old Goron slouched. "All of our messengers are already there. Goddesses, I knew I should have kept someone here."

"What exactly is wrong?"

His vaporous eyebrows raised. "I'm sorry?"

The demigod tapped his chin thoughtfully. "You were slapping Peetu around because he was too close to a mine, right? Is that why you're sending messengers out into, uh, Hyrule?"

Boss Kweiyu turned so red, he half expected him to start chasing him out of the city with his cane. But the old man curled inwards on himself instead, the steam of a contained tantrum curling out of his back-fissure. He spared Peetu a glance, who was awfully enamored with a dark lizard sunbathing on an exposed stone.

The boss hobbled onward. "That's just what I wanted to speak to you about. Follow me."

Diligent as ever, Leo obeyed, passing several more Gorons. He nearly skipped after Kweiyu when he saw that they were going towards the blacksmith's hut.

The young Goron outside put his things down as he saw them approach, moving to hold the curtain over.

"Young Deykrik," Boss Kweiyu acknowledged.

Deykrik gave him a nod. "Boss."

Leo didn't miss how his blue eyes followed him, clearly hungry for an introduction. The demigod considered pulling a face, but Deykrik was squashing metal with his bare hands when they arrived. Before Leo could decide whether a broken arm was worth it or not, Deykrik wrinkled his wide nose at something in the distance and pulled the stone curtain back.

"So, how is he?" the boss asked, shuffling deeper into the stone hut.

"No better than yesterday. And still muttering in his sleep."

Leo looked around the room. Boss Kweiyu's place was by all means modest, but it made the blacksmith hut look like a pigsty. Thick sheet metal shaped into tables and railing leaned against the wall, a rock chessboard on one such piece of furniture. There were no chairs (Leo couldn't imagine a Goron sitting in one anyway), and the windows were carved holes barred with dark metal. Scrap metal was thrown about everywhere in stone crates, lumpy pots, and the floor. On the opposite end of the room was a chainmail curtain suspended by support beams and hooks.

The demigod skittered after the two Gorons, who muttered quietly to one another as they ascended up a few steps to the curtain. With a careful glance at Leo, Deykrik pulled it back, exposing the mashed pile of coal behind it. At least, Leo thought it was coal . . . but it was piled rather oddly. There seemed to be a leather tarp beneath the coals with an oddly protruding tear, like a mouth—

"That's a Goron!" Leo blurted out.

"This is our blacksmith, Kreita the Krushed," Boss Kweiyu introduced. He didn't seem to be joking.

As Leo looked him over, more features came to his attention. Kreita's mouth was lopsided, tilted to the far right, his nose squashed to the left. His face reminded Leo of a warped baby doll; just at the center, it caved inwards. Whoever named him must have been a real jerk.

Kreita's smushed face was the least of his problems, however. All along his thick arms were knobs the size of coconuts, each one oozing scum. Bruises varying from pale green to midnight black smeared across his body. Worst of all, what Leo once thought was a pile of coal was actually the blacksmith's rocky back, almost burned completely beyond recognition.

Leo leaned away; gods knew the Goron didn't need any more fire near him. "What happened to him?"

"Peetu happened," Deykrik growled. "If he had just listened—"

Without missing a beat, Boss Kweiyu snapped his cane out, hitting Deykrik's foot. The younger Goron yelped and fell.

"There will be no slandering in my presence, boy! Return to your craft!" the boss boomed. Leo had half a mind to leave himself as he watched Deykrik scramble to his tiny feet, limping hard on his right. Gorons didn't have tails, but Deykrik's would surely be tucked between his legs if he did.

Boss Kweiyu turned to Leo as though nothing had happened at all. "You asked earlier why Peetu being so close to the mine enraged me so, correct? Well, Kreita's condition is a product of that very mine."

"Yeah, but. . . ." Leo gestured at him before he remembered that the boss couldn't see. "Uh, how did he get so . . ."

". . . Burnt? Dear goddesses, this is such a long tragedy," Boss Kweiyu muttered, staring unseeing at the ceiling. "I need to sit down for this one."

And so they did, Boss Kweiyu in a small bed of gravel and Leo on a large rock. The Gorons were fortunate to have such a small lower half that made sitting on rocks comfortable; Leo was not so lucky. He shuffled every other second, redistributing the stabbing pain across his glutos.

"You see, my boy, we Gorons have lived on Death Mountain across the ages, which blesses us with ore for trading and nutrient-rich minerals for our health."

"Your health?"

"Yes, we use certain rocks as food or medicine. Anyway, our best source for both types of rocks is Eldin Aorta Mine, near the top of Death Mountain. It is our most sacred mine for that very reason; it is the Goron's life force. Without it, we are doomed to starvation and poverty."

Leo twiddled his thumbs. "This is the part where you say that that's exactly what's happening right now."

Boss Kweiyu sighed. "Correct. Less than a month ago, one of our miners, Bekdi, came to me with a warning. He told me that he could feel that something was terribly wrong with the ore-rich part of the mine, and as he was born there and has always had a strong connection to the place, I believed him. I banned the other miners from touching that area and instead directed them to the food stores. Champion Peetu and Bekdi were supposed to investigate the ore in the meantime.

"Kreita needed high-quality metal to keep up with orders from the rest of the kingdom, so he came to me, begging for access. I refused — he was no more entitled than his brothers, after all — and told him to make do with what he had. But he and Champion Peetu have always had such a strong bond, and Peetu smuggled him into the mine one night. I don't know exactly what happened, but as it turns out, the source of Bekdi's apprehension was a gruesome monster we have long thought extinct: the Dodongo."

Even the name sent shivers down Leo's spine, which did nothing good for his soreness.

Boss Kweiyu continued: "It's a terrible creature, and one that has plunged Death Mountain into great turmoil before. They liked to scourge our mines, waiting near our food stores so that they could devour us when starvation forces us in. We thought we hunted them to extinction." He patted Kreita's bruised arm. "But it wasn't a ghost that attacked Kreita."

"But why wasn't Peetu hurt too?"

"Peetu was so busy getting Kreita away from it, he couldn't even land a hit." The boss curled in on himself, holding his cane to his forehead. "It was terrible. We had to pry Kreita away from him, he was so distraught. It's a miracle that he's survived for this long, but I fear that we are at the end of helping him. We ran out of medicine just yesterday; I'm sure that's why Champion Peetu was close enough to the mine to find you."

Leo wrinkled his nose; it had been a few hours since Peetu found him, cursing him with cryptic words and accusations. "What's with this 'Champion' title of his, anyway? The only thing I can imagine him being champion of is beating around the bush."

Boss Kweiyu's mouth twitched upwards. "The tribes of Hyrule each have their own champion, the strongest and bravest of them all, fated to protect us in the event of a disaster. Peetu is — was — ours, but he abandoned his title the night he brought Kreita back. Anytime someone calls him that, he chases them out of town."

So that's why everyone's running away from him, Leo thought.

Peetu was a fool, abandoning Kreita like this. Leo had to strain to even hear his breaths, each one scratchy and faint as twigs carried away by the wind. Pathetic, really; if Piper or Jason or any of Leo's friends were in Kreita's condition, he would have stayed by their side til the bitter end. Hell, if tearing down Olympus was the only way to heal one of them, Leo would topple his father's throne himself. Such is the loyalty of a demigod.

Though, Peetu was trying to help in his own gruff, repressed way. He hadn't found Leo by the mine because he was searching for him; no, he was ready to charge into that mine with his bare hands. Leo was surprised to find that he wanted to help. Not just for Kreita, but Boss Kweiyu made it very clear that his only way out of Goron City was if that bongo-dog — whatever it is — lay dead. But how, exactly. . . .

"You said that these monsters have done this before, right? What did you do then?"

"Nearly died, that's what." Boss Kweiyu sniffed. "Our boss then, Great Darunia, enlisted the help of a great hero to purge the beast. That's why I've sent all of our messengers out; we're looking for Hyrule's greatest knight." He smiled distantly. "He could slay a monster twice its size with one arm tied behind his back, I'm sure."

It took all of Leo's strength to keep from bursting into flames. "What if I could help?"

Boss Kweiyu frowned. "Whatever would you want to help for? You hardly know us!"

"That's exactly why!" Leo folded his hand over Boss Kweiyu's; it felt ragged and thick, like moth-eaten leather. "You guys don't even know me, but you're already showing me around town — gods, you've brought me into your issues, too! Of course I want to help. Especially because I know that I can help."

"How so?" He didn't sound dubious at all.

Leo thought of how to put it into words. "I'm an inventor back home; I know for a fact that I could make some trap for that monster. I've done it before."

The boss furrowed his brow. "Aren't you humans sort of . . . fragile?"

"Peetu said that non-Gorons catch on fire with an elixir here, right? Did you feel any burns on me earlier?"

". . . None." Boss Kweiyu sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "I. . . . I feel like you aren't telling me the full truth. There's something you're omitting."

Again, Leo struggled to keep his fire in control. "I don't know how to explain it."

Several seconds of silence stretched between them, each one like an hour. Finally, Boss Kweiyu patted his hand on Leo's.

"I'll tell Peetu and Young Deykrik about this. They won't be thrilled to hear it, but. . . ." He inhaled, smiling as he did. "Let's get you a map of the place."

Leo was so happy, his hair caught on fire. Thankfully Boss Kweiyu didn't notice, and it only took a few frantic pats to put it out. Hopefully, wherever the other demigods were, they were just as lucky as him.

I survive stumbling past monsters and through rain, Hazel thought, just so that I can die of boredom.

It was like being back at St. Agnes again; sitting silently for hours upon hours, ignoring glares from people who couldn't care less if she disappeared or not so long as she left them alone.

Mrs. Madysson seemed for the most part unbothered by time dragging around her, humming pleasantly as she embroidered butterfly wings into thin green fabric. At the beginning of their drab sit-in, she told Hazel that it was to be a curtain for her bathroom window.

The old woman had convinced her some minutes after doctoring her burns that she should eat some left overs from the night before, and then told her as she sat sipping stew that it would be best if Hazel consulted the mayor about her situation. Wary as she was, Hazel decided that it would be more suspicious to refuse; and what could it hurt? Maybe this mayor really could help her find her friends.

That's what she thought at first, but two and a half hours of sitting in an ugly, uncomfortable chair with nothing to do was torture. The one time she tried to pace, letting her blood back into her feet, the receptionist glared so severely at her that she thought she might push their appointment back.

She must have, Hazel thought, watching the bird-woman scribble something down.

Then Mrs. Madysson's held up her work, and Hazel couldn't help but look. There were more bugs, of course — dragonflies with jade eyes — and dashes of string following them. In one corner, however, was a bug she didn't recognize; it looked like a pink circle with wings.

"It looks very nice." Hazel leaned over her chair's arm. "What bug is that? A beetle?"

Mrs. Madysson blushed. "Thank you. You must mean this one right here, hm? Well, that isn't a bug at all, my dear — it's a fairy."

"A fairy?" Hazel knew about fairies of course, but there was never a surplus of tales of fantastical little sprites in 1940s New Orleans. In the modern day, though. . . . They were just that: fantasy. But Mrs. Madysson looked awfully faithful as she continued:

"Oh yes, they're almost everywhere in Hyrule. They love nature, and playing with children, and healing the injured when they feel so kind." Her smile broadened. "Akkala is fortunate to have it's own Great Fairy, you know—"

"AND YOU TELL YOUR GENERAL I SAID SO!"

Finally, finally, the mayor's office door was open, ejecting a man in gleaming armor. His face wasn't visible past his visor, but he looked awfully ashamed. He scrambled out of the waiting room and out the door, not even bothering to pull his cloak over himself as he went quickly into the rain.

The receptionist swallowed dryly, her previous ferocity gone. "The, um, mayor will see you now."

xxx

Hazel knew immediately that she and the mayor wouldn't get along.

The narrow woman ignored them as they entered, filing through what seemed to be blueprints. She was old, maybe even older than Mrs. Madysson, with skin roughly the same color as Hazel's. Her hair was like a red bowl tipped awkwardly on her head, her eyes dark as cursed emeralds. A coat nearly thrice her size was draped over her; the shoulder pads were bigger than her head. Hazel would have giggled if she didn't have so riding on the mayor.

The mayor dropped her stack. Hazel thought she would look at them now, but she was wrong; she simply picked up another and went through it as well.

"I don't have all day, you know," she muttered.

"R-right!" Mrs. Madysson took a seat in front, folding her hands over her bag. "I wanted to speak with you about this girl I have with me. If you could just look at her. . . ."

Again, the mayor ignored them. Mrs. Madysson glanced at Hazel, pointedly tilting her head at the other chair. With an aggravated sigh, Hazel sat down.

Mrs. Madysson cleared her throat. "As I was saying, I really do think you could understand everything better if you would please look at her, Mayor."

It was like a switch had been flipped; the mayor eagerly peered down at them — not because she was tall, but because their chairs had been sawed down. She scrutinized Hazel for several seconds before she tightened her mouth.

"Is this what kids are doing these days? Clipping their ears?" she asked, glaring.

Hazel glared right back. "I'm a human, ma'am."

"She really is," Mrs. Madysson confirmed.

"Sure, sure." The mayor opened her file cabinet roughly, tucking the blueprints away. Hazel looked down at her nameplate as she did: Mayor Dunson. And she thought it was hard not to laugh before; she could already imagine all of the jokes Leo would make. He would have a field day.

"I really am," Hazel argued. "I'm not from Hyrule; I'm a sailor." That wasn't exactly wrong; she was an Argonaut. "We were hoping you could help me find the rest of my crew—"

Mayor Dunson waved her ragged, jeweled hands. "I don't need your sob-story, girl. Whatever problems you have can wait. It might surprise you, but I have enough to deal with in my own town. Off you go."

Mrs. Madysson's face turned radish-red. "Now, wait just a minute—"

"Are your ears getting too old?" the mayor asked. "I said OFF. YOU. GO."

Never in all her eighty-three years had Hazel witnessed an argument so ferocious; it made the Giant War look like a schoolyard quarrel. Mayor Dunson and Mrs. Madysson cursed and squawked like she-demons, both red and puffed and angered. Hazel could hardly keep up with each insult, they were so rapid-fire. At one point, the receptionist craned (get it, craned?) her head in, only to flee when both women briefly turned their bile towards her.

Amidst the squabble, Mayor Dunson stood with her hands on her desk, scattering several papers on the floor. Out of instinct (and maybe a last-ditch effort to suck up to the woman) Hazel caught one. A red seal and gold ribbon clung to one end of the long parchment, hasty cursive scrawled across. The demigod never liked cursive, but one line in particular caught her eye: All of the Akkala Province is on an official trade embargo.

Hazel grabbed Mrs. Madysson's sleeve, unconcerned with her wrath; she wouldn't hurt her, right? "Mrs. Madysson, I think you need to see this."

"Can't you see we're having a conversation here, girl? And what—" The blood flushed out of Mayor Dunson's face in an instant. "No, not that letter!"

But it was too late. Mrs. Madysson's eyes flitted only faster from line to line, her face achieving a shade of crimson Hazel had yet to see on anyone before. She was beginning to wonder if the woman needed a cardiologist. "A trade embargo? AKKALA'S BEEN ON A TRADE EMBARGO AND YOU HAVE TOLD NO ONE?!"

"Keep your voice down—"

"I WILL SPEAK AS LOUDLY AS I PLEASE, THANK YOU VERY MUCH!"

` Mayor Dunson slumped into her seat, a defeated woman in all but attire. She gestured imploringly to the seats; the pair remained standing.

"Look," the mayor began, braiding her fingers, "I know how you must feel right now."

"Don't patronize me, you—"

She held her hand up for silence, then seemed to think better of it. "Your Beedle is a merchant, yes? Look, I have some leeway with the law; I can get him through—"

Hazel raised an eyebrow "And what about me?"

The mayor was definitely biting the inside of her mouth. "I . . . could probably manage that too, yes."

"That's not the only issue here," Mrs. Madysson growled — really growled. "You've been lying through your teeth to the town for" — she glanced at the letter — "a week? I'm not the only person with family out of Akkala, you know. What is wrong with you?"

"Look, I planned on telling everyone in due time!" Mayor Dunson defended. "But with all this bad weather and those m-monsters, I just . . . didn't think that they could take so much all at once."

Mrs. Madysson's face lightened a shade. "Why is there an embargo, anyway?"

"I don't know. Everything I know is in that letter."

"And what is stopping me from nailing this to your front door?"

"Let's not be hasty, now!" The mayor lowered her chin into her hands, looking far too close to a snake stalking prey. "You want to see your grandson and you want to get this human girl, um. . . ." She raised an eyebrow at Hazel. "Anyway, I can get the two of you out of the province with a snap of my fingers."

"Hey, Mrs. Madysson?" Hazel asked. "I think I'm in a really gossipy mood today."

"Me too, my dear." Mrs. Madysson waved the letter around. "It's almost like I can't control what I say around others—"

"I'M— I'm getting to that part."

Hazel leaned closer. "Oh?"

"I'll tell them about the embargo, but only if you're out of town by the end of the day. I'll even throw in some inn passes."

"You seem awfully eager to get us out," Mrs. Madysson deadpanned.

"You don't think I'm doing this to help out an outstanding citizen?"

"No," both women droned.

"I will have you know that I'm doing this for the town — and you believe it or not!" she shouted, pointing at Hazel. "Can you imagine how they would react, hearing that nobody can get in or out of Akkala, but some human girl just so happens to stomp into town the very same day? I wouldn't buy it!"

Hazel held Mrs. Madysson back before she got them arrested. "She has a point. Besides, I think I might need to get out of here. To look for my crew."

"I hope you aren't offended, my dear — you seem quite put together, quite strong! — but I couldn't sleep well knowing you were out all alone." Mrs. Madysson patted her shoulder. "And I need to see my Little Beedle anyway."

"I couldn't possibly ask you to—"

"I don't have all day," Dunson mumbled.

Hazel sighed, sparing Mrs. Madysson one last glance. "You've got yourself a deal."

End of Chapter 7

I'm deleting this old A/N because it had to do with my account difficulties, which have clearly (AND JOYFULLY!) been resolved. Thank you for your patience!