"What should I do, Addison?"
Astir's mentor looked deep in thought—and somewhat troubled. "It is . . . an interesting approach."
Astir gaped at him. "Do you really think this is a good idea?"
"I didn't say that."
"But you didn't say it was a bad idea," Astir pointed out.
Addison spread his hands. "I don't think any harm would come of using the scepter just this once. If it's something you shouldn't do, then I think you can trust that Link and Zelda will not appear so you won't be harmed. And then maybe the queen could accept that we must only look to the living to help us."
"Do you really think they would show up?"
"I have no idea, Your Majesty. But the more important question is whether they can provide any help. That I doubt."
Astir sighed and rubbed his face. That had become a habit of his over the last month; it was what he did when he was frustrated.
"Very well," he acquiesced at last.
"When will you do it, Your Majesty?" Addison asked, sounding almost eager. Astir wondered if the older man's intellectual curiosity was piqued by the possibility of seeing the Soul Scepter in use and the possibility of seeing the legendary Link and Zelda.
Astir pushed himself to his feet. "I suppose now is as good a time as any. Better, probably, since I don't want people to know what's going on."
"Now?" Addison asked, looking surprised. His eyes sweeping down Astir's person—taking in his nightshirt and the open robe he wore over it—said what he his voice didn't.
"If they see anything happening in this world, then they already know what I look like in my nightclothes," Astir said. He had no patience for niceties tonight—or any night lately, for that matter.
Addison's lips pressed together, but he didn't argue. That was a habit that the older man had adopted recently, too; before, he might have tried to reason with Astir, but now that the king's temper was so notoriously short, he let a lot of things go.
Astir slipped on a pair of shoes, then gestured to Addison. "Let's go."
Addison looked surprised again. "Me, too?"
"Yes. If they offer any counsel, you need to hear it. And you may think to ask questions that I don't. . . . If this works," he added skeptically.
Addison hurried to his feet and the two men walked through the quiet, nearly-deserted castle. The double guard that was always posted at three o'clock wasn't in evidence, and since dawn didn't appear to be breaking, Astir could only assume that it was sometime before three in the morning.
He wondered if the lateness of the hour made any difference to ghosts. He doubted it.
The chapel guard straightened up when they saw the king and the Grand Vizier crossing the walkway toward them.
"Open the door," Astir commanded.
The two guards glanced at one another. "Apologies, Your Majesty, but we were told not to let anyone in," one of them said.
Astir stared at him for a long moment, absolutely dumbfounded. "I gave that order," he said.
"Yes, Sire."
"Why would I tell you to keep me out?"
This seemed to confuse the pair.
"Alright, I'm changing my order," Astir said. "I order you to let me and Addison in. But do not let anyone else in and we are not to be disturbed while we are in here."
"Yes, Your Majesty," the two guards said in unison, then they proceeded to unlock the doors and open them.
"Is this really the best we could do?" Astir whispered to Addison.
Addison merely shrugged. Thankfully, hiring guards wasn't his purview. "I would suggest asking your father-in-law, Sire," he replied.
Astir just grunted non-committedly. Whether he would take it up with Ysabel's father or not would remain to be seen. Despite being given a title and lands of his own, Hadrian had elected to continue to work as the Captain of the Guard. Addison knew that this was a point of gossip—and some derision—among the nobles, but the royal family ignored the impropriety of it. Hadrian seemed most content when he was working, and he did a good job, so Astir largely left him alone to get on with it.
Astir took the key from the guards and the two men walked into the chapel. The guards closed the doors behind them—rather ominously, Astir thought.
Astir took a deep breath and walked up to the case to the right of the altar. Inside were several of Link and Zelda's weapons—including the golden scepter encrusted with opals.
Astir looked at Addison. "Are you sure about this?" he whispered.
"I'm sure no harm will come to you. Beyond that, I'm not sure of anything."
Astir took another deep breath, then unlocked the case. He gently raised the glass lid and looked down at the scepter. It took him a minute to steel himself to pick it up.
He had held it several times before, but only to touch it—never to use it. Now it felt different—heavier—as if the weight of what he was about to do was in the scepter itself.
Finally, he turned to the empty chapel, held the scepter aloft, and said, "I call forth Link and Zelda."
For a long minute, nothing happened. He was about to ask Addison if he thought it hadn't worked, when a low fog came out of nowhere, crawling across the floor.
"Look!" Addison hissed.
Astir was too afraid to move, much less reply. For all of his trepidation about using the scepter, he didn't really think it would work. Descendant or not, King of Hyrule or not, why would Link and Zelda bother to come when he called?
He hadn't thought about what he would do if they actually appeared.
The fog began to rise in front of Astir and Addison. Then it parted and became two separate foggy pillars. The pillars then began to take on humanoid forms and the fog condensed until it was nearly opaque. Finally, features started to appear and sharpen.
About a minute after it started, the process was complete. Astir had no trouble recognizing the ghostly forms of Link and Zelda; they looked exactly as they did in their paintings.
Astir stared at them mutely for so long, Link finally spoke. "You called us?"
"Um, yes," he said lamely, still in shock.
"About your baby?" Zelda asked.
"Yes."
Link shook his head. "We don't know where he is."
Astir didn't know his hopeless heart could fall any farther, but it felt like it hit his feet at that moment.
Then Link continued. "And that's a problem."
It was Addison who replied to him. "What do you mean?"
"If he was in our world—the world of Hylians," Zelda corrected, "then we would know where he is."
"So . . . he's . . . dead?" Astir choked out.
"Oh, no," Link replied. "If he was dead, he would be here with us."
"So . . . where could he be?" Addison asked.
Link's face seemed to darken. "We think he was kidnapped by humans."
Both Addison and Astir were silent for a moment. "Humans?" Addison finally asked.
"Yes."
"But . . . aren't they on the other side of the Endless Ocean?"
"Yes."
"I thought it was impossible for us to cross it—or for them to come here."
"Well, apparently one or more of them has," Link replied.
"Humans used to worship the same gods we do," Zelda said. "We were established by Hylia, while they had their own patron goddess, but all the creator gods we shared in common.
"But they have all but extinguished the worship of the old gods—replacing them with some figure that no one knows. Maybe it's a made-up god, maybe it's some demon—it's hard to say. But, essentially, they have expelled the gods from their lives, so the gods can't keep tabs on them."
"Wh-what does that mean, exactly?" Addison asked tentatively.
"It means that the gods have no idea what's happening in the human realm, outside of a few isolated pockets where they are still accepted. But every time their place of worship is torn down and abandoned, they become a little more blind."
"But why would humans come all the way here and steal my son?" Astir asked. "They didn't take anything else that we've been able to find—no money, nothing of value, no one else's children . . ."
"We have a theory," Link replied. "Just as we know of their existence, so it's possible humans know of ours; after all, they once travelled here freely; presumably some of them also travelled back before the way was blocked.
"Whoever came here had great magical power—the likes of which haven't been seen since our time. Magic in humans died out long ago. But just as Zelda and I were born Hylians in a time when almost everyone was human, it's possible that a human has some recessive magical trait that has manifested. And it's possible that he came here in order to get someone of Hylian blood to try and breed that magical trait back into their race."
"But why my son and not someone else?" Astir demanded. "Whoever took him passed by several villages and towns on the way here from the coast. Plus, he had to work big magic to incapacitate everyone in Castle Town. Why not just take the first person you come across? Why go to all that trouble?"
"Your child is the most pure-blooded Hylian alive," Zelda pointed out. "No heir to our throne has ever been anything other than a Hylian and has never married anyone other than a Hylian."
"The irony is, though, that magic is waning even among Hylians," Link added. "No one is a born-seer anymore and there are few left who can scry—much less do more complicated magic."
"Is it possible that this human knew that and the whole reason why he did this was to preserve magic before it was lost to the entire world?" Addison asked.
"Perhaps. There's really no way to know, at this point, what his true motives are."
"So, is there nothing we can do to get our prince back?"
Zelda and Link looked at one another. After a pause, they looked at Astir and Addison again. "We can come back to help you find him," Link said.
"Reincarnate?" Astir asked skeptically. "It would take you, what, about eighteen years to get to the point where you would be able to help? My son would be a grown man by then, older than either of you. That wouldn't be terribly helpful."
Link was already shaking his head. "I don't mean reincarnate."
"What do you mean?" Addison asked.
"The gods want your son found as much as you do," Zelda assured Astir. "They do not want the races mixing again—for whatever purpose. And, as you pointed out, he has to be found before he is old enough to have children of his own.
"That's why the gods are willing to bend the rules in this case."
"Bend the rules? In what way?" Addison pressed.
"To bring us back to life," Link said.
It was Addison and Asitr's turn to look at one another. "I'm afraid I still don't know what you mean," Addison told them.
"Our souls will be put back into our physical bodies and we will live again—not as souls in new bodies with no knowledge of our past, but as ourselves—as you see us now, and as we know ourselves."
Astir's eyes grew wide. "Th-they can do that?"
"It is against all their rules, but they feel the danger of the races mixing again is too great a risk to bear; if a single human is this powerful, what might happen if he tried to intentionally breed more humans to be like him and to have Hylian traits to boot? All the gods' protections might not hold—which would not only endanger our people, but the other races of the world who live in their own lands in peace.
"There is no one on earth right now who has the skill and knowledge necessary for a quest of this sort," Link added. "That's why it must be us."
"What do we need to do?" Astir asked, his voice suddenly eager.
"Go to our tomb with the scepter," Link instructed. "Remove the lid, then call us forth again in our bodies. You need to utter that command," he said firmly. "Then we should come back in the flesh."
Astir nodded. "I understand."
"Then we will see you there," Link said.
Astir hurried to put the Soul Scepter down; Link and Zelda disappeared as soon as he let go. Then he turned to Addison, a light in his eyes that Addison hadn't seen since the prince went missing. "They're going to find him!" he exclaimed, nearly shouting with joy. "I had no idea . . . come back in the flesh. We can meet them truly, Addison! And if anyone can save my son, they can!"
"Sire, I agree that it's very promising," Addison said with reservation, "but the young prince is still in great danger. He's being held by a powerful wizard for unholy purposes—"
"Yes, yes, I got all of that," Astir said dismissively.
"I just think you should temper your hope with caution, Your Majesty. It may take them a long time to track him down . . ." He didn't add that they might not be able to find Lucien at all or that something might happen to him before they could find him.
But Astir was having none of it. "They'll find him, Addison," he said with a wide grin. "They can't fail."
