The House of Answers

Zelda's fingers gripped tight around the simple piece of cloth. She'd held softer materials. In her old life, she'd worn gowns of velvet, seen flags of many colors, and slept on silken blankets. Yet this small square now consumed her. She had deciphered prophecies, floated through a sea of endless possibilities, and commanded that current to stop. She had spoken to gods.

None of it explained how a dead priest handed her a handkerchief. No history book mentioned bringing something back from beyond the veil. There were legends of ghosts and twisted corpses hidden beneath the earth, but they had not been in the Sacred Realm. And Zelda did not know if she believed in them. She'd certainly seen no evidence of ghosts in her travels.

The tomes and scrolls she rescued from the temple were equally silent. She'd read through them all, eight times at least, and none spoke of souls or the Sacred Realm in anything save the abstract. Perhaps one that she had been forced to leave behind held the answers.

How much had that fairy's conflagration destroyed? What knowledge was now forever lost to the world?

"You alright?" Link's voice tore her from her thoughts. He walked beside her as she rode on Song, one hand gently petting the horse.

Zelda had been clutching the handkerchief so tight her fingers had taken a purple hue, any tighter and she might tear the cloth. "I am." She tucked it back up her sleeve and grabbed Song's reins.

"You keep looking at that, is it important?"

"It is nothing."

"It can't be nothing. I saw you with it when I first came free."

"Link," Navi chided. "Don't pry."

"I wasn't prying, I was just asking."

"When it's about something personal, that's called prying."

"He gave no offense." Zelda frowned. The princess had known Ruaru and traversed the Sacred Realm, the Sheikah had not. "We've all lost people to the Usurper." The greatest lies were simply the truth wearing a mask.

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be." You're going to help me have my vengeance. As soon as I figure out a way how. It was strange, having to go over the same thoughts she knew she had seven years ago. Why would the Goddesses choose this boy? He was a talented warrior, he'd faced down a charging knight and came out unscratched. But what would a single sword do against the Gerudo horde?

She did not know what she expected his arrival to harken when she released him. But perhaps she still had those foolish notions of a hero walking out to set the world to right simply by existing. That the Goddesses would work through him and Ganondorf would be defeated in an instant. It would be nice if she had to do nothing more. Instead, the Goddesses granted her a room of knowledge and forced her to choose which to save without knowing their contents. She'd never get to know if she chose right after all the rest burned.

There I go again, thinking to blame the fairy. Navi did nothing wrong. How terrible it must have been, sealed alone for seven years. It had been hard enough for Zelda, and she had Impa and even grew close to some of the villagers.

The field of stones came into view before Kakariko. The ancient Sheikah had designed their home to be hidden through means both mundane and mystical. Though Zelda knew it lay less than two miles away, the only sign were a whisp of smoke and the edge of some buildings that the untrained eye would see as part of the trees and hills.

Her companions didn't understand what they approached until the graves surrounded them. The fairy flew from one to the next. "There's writing here," she said. "But I can't read them, it's not any form of Hylian."

"Those marks are in my tongue, the language of the Sheikah."

"What does it say?"

"Exhausted from the chase."

"What does that mean?" Link asked.

"That was how they died."

"Oh," Link looked over the sea of stones. "All of them?"

"Yes. We must stop here for a moment. Give Song a chance to rest." Zelda slid from the saddle and tied the reins around a post. "Come." She led them deeper into the graveyard.

"Why aren't those graves marked?" Link asked.

"To a Sheikah, only those who live and die in the service of the Inquisition are given memorials when they are buried. Most receive no words over them, though their families still mourn."

Link frowned. "But not everyone can serve the Inquisition, can they? What happens to the bricklayers, or the farmers, or anyone else?"

"They are buried unmarked."

"That doesn't seem fair. What happens when you get too old? Or you pass too young?"

"Also unmarked. Once we offered no indication that anyone was buried there at all, and would still follow that practice were it not for one man's work."

"But then how will their family know which grave is theirs?"

"They will have to remember."

He gave a disapproving grunt but said nothing more. Not until they reached the hovel at the edge of the graveyard. No sound came from Dampé's home. Not the arguing of him and Impa, nor the clanking of him tinkering with his gadgets. She hoped he slept, but feared something far worse.

No one answered when she knocked. The door creaked when she opened it. Light crawled into the room, over the dropped pieces of metal, and scattered clothes. What once may have been bread and a sausage lay on the floor, now covered in mold and writhing insects. Dampé's bed had been overturned and someone had cut into the thin mattress. Someone had dug into the earthen floor at various spots, and punctured the wooden walls, searching for something.

"What happened here?" Link stepped past her into the room.

"Get out," Zelda said.

"What? Why?"

"Don't disturb anything, don't touch anything. Get out."

Link glanced to Navi, then held his hands up as backed out through the door.

This was Needle's work. They had been after something small. Small enough to fit in these holes, or inside the wood of the walls. They had been thorough, unrushed. The signs of destruction were everywhere, but no signs of violence. No dried blood or stains from anything but food, grease, oil, and wax. Even the dismantling of the shelf and little boxes that Dampé used to keep his tools and scribbled ideas showed precision. None of the pieces of debris fell into clear paths for the Sheikah to take through the room without stepping on anything they'd discarded. The Needles took their time but felt no need to hide their actions.

But why? Had they come for Dampé? He'd sworn against the Inquisition since the day she met him, but they made no attempt on his person the entire time she lived in the village. What changed once she left?

And where was Impa?

Something small and bronze gleamed on the floor, almost hidden beneath the clutter of greasy rags. She pocketed it before she stepped out of the home and shut the door behind her.

"What's happening?" Link asked before she had a chance to think.

"I don't know. I need to talk to some people."

"Should we be worried?" Navi asked.

"When shouldn't we?" Zelda led them back to Song and rode the winding pathways around the hills and into the village. When she was certain that Link was not watching and no hidden eyes were upon her, she slipped the bronze and the handkerchief into her rupee purse. One of Impa's many lessons: the best way to hide something from a Sheikah, hold it somewhere obvious.

The fairy hid in her ocarina as they walked through the opened wooden gate. The villagers stared at them, none drew close, nor stopped from their daily routine. Yet already Zelda felt their eyes upon her, stealing glances whenever they could. That deep polite suspicion that suffuses every small village, compounded here by those watching. Most were simple folk, the commons that all villages need to survive; farmers and bakers, hunters and builders. But any one of them could have spent their youth in the dark, learning the ways of the Needle.

Robin the beggar sang and danced and made children laugh when they passed. He'd been a Needle in an older life. Impa told her that she had once looked up to him. He had been a few years her elder and a rising star. Another watched them pass, Otak the cooper. No one had told Zelda that he had been trained, it was obvious once you knew what to look for. The way he stood, the lightness on his feet, the way his eyes followed while his body never shifted or revealed his attention. The best Needles learned how to disguise even these subtle clues, but those who left the order to take up the simple life were seldom the best Needles.

The stablemaster had once been a spy, though he hid it well. He took her rupees and helped them remove the saddle and bags from Song. Link made a show of carrying the heaviest of them, while Zelda led them through the streets.

"Link," a note of fear came from the ocarina. "Link stop."

Zelda turned to her companions, her hands holding back, ready to use her knives to defend against some threat. But there was nothing nearby. Only the eyes of the villagers upon them.

"What's wrong?" Link whispered.

"There's a power here. Magic. I've never felt anything like it."

"The village is warded," Zelda said. Though she knew that wasn't what frightened the fairy.

"There's something more. Below us. Far below and… it drags everything down."

"Speak no more of it. Follow me." They passed the marketplace and the broken windmill. When they reached the entrance to the Below, Zelda thought she heard Navi gasp. They did not stop until they were well away, and into the home she and Impa shared along with two other families who stayed on the lower floor. Her compartment was at the top, overhanging the street. When they entered at the lower level to reach the stairs, Zelda thanked the Three that only the aged Grampa Ferri was there and the years had robbed him of his sight and hearing. He'd not said a word for three years.

Her rooms were empty. Some small part of her hoped to hear Impa and Dampé bickering over what to make for supper. That Impa had finally gotten that stubborn old man to come live with them where he could be taken care of rather than out alone. They'd tell her a ridiculous tale of Impa ransacking his house herself trying to find some token he did not mean to leave behind. But those were the fantasies of a child. Impa was not there, nor was Dampé. Everything looked exactly how she left it, save Impa's presence.

"Come in," Zelda held the door open for the others to enter. "There are two beds, you can have the larger." Best to give up her own rather than rob Impa of her mattress while there was still some small hope of her return.

"What was that?" Navi flew from the ocarina once the door was shut. "That feeling, the pulling. What was it?"

"I do not know precisely, but there is magic here. Old magic and it has kept these people safe, and the princess as well."

"Where is Zelda?" Link asked. "Is she here?"

"She was." Zelda stepped past her companions to look over the empty room. Needles had been here, the same as Dampé's. Though they had taken the time not to leave any signs. But there were clues hidden in the lack of clues. There was no clutter on the table, nor empty wine bottles or rubbish. Impa kept their home clean, but not as tidy as this. They'd wiped away every spec of dust to make certain they did not leave any trace behind.

"Will be able to see her soon?"

"Maybe," Zelda said as she headed toward the stairs. "But not now. Stay here, lock the door when I leave. And try not to make too much noise."

"You look worried," Navi flew before her eyes. "Is there something wrong?"

"I don't know, yet. I'm going to find out."

"Can we help?" Link asked.

"Just stay here and rest. I'll be back shortly."

The House of Answers had many names among the Sheikah; the Pit, the Dungeons, the Howling Rooms, or simply Below. Whatever the name, the people spoke them all in hushed tones of reverence and fear.

Once when she was a child of only six or seven, Zelda had watched her father conduct court. A peasant came before him, every limb quivering, unable to say a sentence without stammering. And every word he fumbled made his eyes grow wider and his stammer worsen.

Her father had asked the chamberlain to take him aside until his nerves calmed and went on with his day.

When they supped together that night, Zelda asked him about the man. Why was he so afraid? Didn't he know that her father was just and kind?

"That I try to be," he had said, "but he does not know me. What he knows is that I command knights trained to fight, and I live in a castle grander than anywhere he has ever been. He knows me only enough to feel fear. And wouldn't you? If brought before one who has such power over your life?"

The Inquisition had no knights, nor was their home grand as Hyrule Castle. But they did not need them. The Sheikah understood who held the power in the village. And unlike her father, they never claimed to be just or kind. But none could doubt their effectiveness. What good had knights and walls been, at the end? Steel and stone can fail, but secrets kept her alive. What had justice or kindness done?

The building itself did not match their grandeur, which suited the Inquisition perfectly. It was not even the largest building on the road, nor the most decorated, nor the prettiest. Instead of splendid it was squat and square. The common man would think nothing of it, even those of unusual astuteness might only notice the comings and goings of strangers passing into it and assume some kind of shop lay within the walls. Perhaps a bakery of sweets, with the number of children that enter.

But all the Sheikah knew the House of Answers and to avoid it as best they could. A place sought only by the desperate, the vicious, and the foolish. And which am I? She thought as she opened the door. Perhaps today I am all three.

Within did not attempt to maintain an illusion of being a shop, nor did it revel in being extraordinary. Three adults and one small girl stood in a near barren wooden room. The adults she knew: Caido, Oklé, and Namma, Needles all, smiled and made jokes with the child. The little girl had dried tears that streaked her face, but fury in her eyes.

When the three saw Zelda; Oklé and Namma stepped away and positioned themselves before the door. But Caido kept to his work.

"You understand what is required of the House of Answers?" He said to the child. "What it will cost?"

She nodded. "I need to know."

"How can we help you, friend?" Oklé asked, blocking Zelda's view of the girl. His smile was perfect, his eyes so amicable that even Zelda near missed the slight twitch of his hand.

"I wish to speak to an Inquisitor," Zelda said.

"And who should we say is calling for them?" Namma asked. "We don't know you."

"You wouldn't," Zelda spoke with the practiced confidence of Sheik. "Tell High Inquisitor Stayan that Sheik is here."

Oklé snorted. "You know more than you should, I'll give you that. But no one is interrupting Master Stayan. If you have business, why don't you explain it to us and we'll find someone more appropriate for you to speak to."

"You will learn nothing," a voice came from behind the door. It creaked open and a tall dark shape poured out from behind it. He was robed from head to toe, save a milk-white mask with a blood-red first time Zelda saw an Inquisitor in full regalia she feared she saw a monster. It wasn't until she remembered that Dampé had once worn the cloak and mask that her fears were relieved. Slightly.

"Master Mandri," Zelda bowed her head in respect.

"Helpful Sheik, please, come. I doubt you'd want to waste further words with the likes of these."

If the Needles were offended by Mandri's tone, they did not show it. Still, Zelda felt a tinge of guilt as they stepped aside to let her pass. Oklé had always been kind to her and Impa, and Namma was still young and unfamiliar with her duties. It was not their fault that they did not know the games she was playing. But worse, she felt for the child she'd left speaking to Caido. The House of Answers would take everything if one was not careful.

Behind the door, the structure of the building changed. The wooden facade pulled away to reveal the cold stone heart of Below. Dim oil lamps positioned along the walls cast shadows that melted into the gleaming black stone. Empty chairs and couches circled a spiraling staircase down into the dark.

When Zelda first saw the stairs she tried to count how many floors she could make out, but the deeper the descent the scarcer the lights. After ten she saw no light at all, though she saw no sign that was the deepest the House of Answers went.

Mandri led her down one flight, but no further. They never allowed her further. A Needle stood at attention by one of the many thick doors that lined the cavernous trails beneath the earth. When they approached the Needle unlocked and opened the door for them. When they entered, the Needle shut it behind them, and not the slightest sound could breach the room.

"That's better," Mandri said. He took off his mask and loosened his robes, letting it drape open to reveal the man cloaked within. Zelda had to prevent herself from showing any visible signs of relief when he removed his mask. It would make things so much easier. When Zelda met Mandri, he'd been a young man of perhaps twenty years with dreams of the knowledge held within the walls of the House of Answers. A dream they shared, though she was only eleven. He had more success pursuing those secrets than she, though he looked no better for it.

He'd only been given his mask and cloak two years ago, yet his skin had already turned pale and his hair had noticeably receded. "Your illusion is as superb as ever."

"Thank you, Master Mandri." She released it and for the first time in weeks, she was herself again.

"It's a pity you weren't born a Sheikah. The Inquisition would have had such use for you." He gestured for her to sit as he walked around his desk. "I take it the High Inquisitor's spell served you well?"

"The Usurper never saw my movements. I had meant to thank Master Stayan in person."

"That will not be possible, the High Inquisitor is indisposed. But tell me about your journey. Last I heard, you were supposed to return with an army. You're a few swords shy, by my count."

"Duke Arlan proved uninterested in joining in an alliance. And Chief Darunia had problems of his own to solve."

"More than you know, I fear."

He let the dark implications hang between them, baiting her into asking a question. One he could hold over her and force her to make further concessions than she had already given.

She remained silent.

Mandri sighed. "I suppose you'll learn without us soon enough; these aren't whispers but shouts that can be heard across all the fields. Dragmire grew irate trying to bring peace to the mountain. We all know how he responds to such problems; like a petulant child throwing away a broken toy."

He was watching her, studying how she would take the news. Her heart pounded at the thought of what the Usurper would do to her uncle. I should never have gone, I should never have endangered him. But she did not let her fears show. "If you know what he has done, tell me or don't. I've come as a courtesy and friend, not a child for you to bind."

That made Mandri smile. "And such courtesy you show. In truth, the answer is we're not entirely certain. It will take time to unwind all the knots and falsehoods to get a clear view. But on one thing everyone agrees, a dragon has returned to Hyrule. And it does Ganondorf's bidding. One has to admire the display of power if nothing else."

"That can't be true."

"And yet our people say it is. But the House of Answers does not dole them out but collects them. And we need answers, Zelda. Why didn't you travel to the Zora and the East? The plan was to gather allies, yet none of our Needles noted your arrival in the Crystal City or any of the courts of Necluda.

"I decided against visiting the Zora, the more I learned of their situation the more convinced I am that they will not be helpful. It was always unlikely they would join us. They never had the love for my father that Darunia had, and after their revolt, they are shattered."

"And the Lords of Necluda?"

"Those I have a plan for."

"Involving the young man?"

"Yes."

"Who is he? It is rare for my superiors to be surprised. When word reached of your return to Kakariko with a single warrior at your side, even Master Olkoi looked confused."

"After I spoke with Duke Arlan I had a separate conversation with a lord from his camp, Margrave Turrin."

"And did he have interest in an alliance behind Arlan's back? And here I thought the loyalty of his men was absolute."

"No. The Margrave will not offer his support, but he informed me of an opportunity. The boy is a nephew of Lady Nemiev."

"The Countess of Kitano? The whispers say she's loyal to Dragmire."

"Because her beloved nephew was locked away. How do you think her loyalties will sway when we deliver him to her?"

Mandri leaned back in his chair. "The countess would make a fine ally. Does he know who you are?"

"No. He can't reveal what he doesn't know." I would trust him to

He nodded. "You've learned well."

A lesson I learned far before I entered this house. "I thank the Inquisitors for their wisdom. They have guided me well."

"It's strange, isn't it," he said. "What we are hiding from each other?"

A shiver fell down her neck and her stomach felt as though it would seize. She wanted to hold onto Rauru's handkerchief and never give it to them. "What are we hiding from each other?"

"What you found in Dampé's dingy little hut."

"Oh, I wasn't intending to hide that. What I saw was obvious. The gravedigger has finally passed, the Masters took the opportunity to make certain that he secreted nothing of importance to them. I only have two questions, if you feel kind enough to answer."

Mandri smiled. "Are you finally asking the House of Answers? You know the price."

"No, I am asking you. And it's information I can find myself, I was hoping that you would show me kindness and save me a little time."

He looked disappointed but nodded. "I suppose it was too much to hope that the princess would be in the House of Answers debt. But very well, let it never be said that the Sheikah are not hospitable."

"Where was Dampé buried?"

"Some unmarked grave. I did not attend the funeral, but I could find the answer for you." Was he lying? Asking answers from the House were true, but she did not ask the House, she asked him. And an Inquisitor can lie better than anyone else in the world.

"No matter, if you answer my second question I'm certain I'll discover the first. Where can I find Lady Impa? I suspect a tavern, but I would be grateful if my search is shortened."

"That, I'm sorry to say will be even more difficult to provide than the first. After her former master's death, she decided to return to her work. She asked for an assignment. We sent her to the south, she must be halfway to Lake Hylia by now. But when she sends word or another of our Needles reports that she has arrived, I will see that you are informed immediately."

Now she knew Mandri lied, though nothing about his demeanor revealed him. Impa had promised that she would not leave until Zelda returned. She would not break this promise, just because she was sad her mentor had passed. "Thank you, Mandri." She stood. "Remember to give my regards to the High Inquisitor."

"I will do so as soon as he is free to hear." He rose himself and tightened his cloak. "A return to our costumes, then, aye, princess?"

"If we must." It had been good to move as herself. No matter how close the shape of Sheik was to her person, it was not the same. It had taken months to learn how to move with the illusion until it became as natural as her true nature. But it changed everything, even how she sat in this chair was how Zelda the princess sat, not how Sheik the Needle would.

She formed the image of the nameless Needle in her mind and laid it overtop her view of herself. When she drew power to cast the spell she felt it creep toward her. The boundless energy that came from Below. It beckoned to be used, it wanted her to take from it and shape her spells. But just like the House of Answers itself, she knew that it provided nothing without taking far more.

Instead, she drew from the light and herself and not a drop from the shadows. The layer of bent light spread over her eyes and fill out her jaw and shoulders, warping shape and color. By the time she stood up and took her first step toward the door, the princess was gone and the Needle returned.

"Until next time," Mandri tapped on the door, signaling the Needle to let her out.

She climbed the dark stairs and walked through the door. The three Needles remained guarding the front, but the child was gone.

"Did she get her answers?" Zelda asked.

"She paid," Caido said, though his voice was sad and low. "The young always pay."

Zelda walked through familiar streets, as suspicious eyes peaked at her. Those she knew who now no longer knew her. Everyone had been so kind when she first arrived. Now the only one who acknowledged her was the youngest of the baker's sons, Deffi, who was playing outside the shop and waved. Before Vedrim called for him to return to work.

She should return to Link and Navi. They would not enjoy being cooped up for the entire day, and she'd need to work with Link to maintain her lie. The Inquisitors would come to speak to him soon enough. But she found herself walking the road out of the village and toward the graveyard.

Vines had started to overtake the gate. They'd grown in the months she was on the road. She pulled the key from her rupee purse, brushing Rauru's gift as she did. The stone path was half grass and when she rounded the corner the state of her mother's monument came into view. Dirt marred the white marble, it stuck in the crevices of the royal crest and covered half the words of the inscription. Even the flower had wilted for lack of care.

She knelt before the grave and lowered her head. "Mother," she whispered, "I have come once more asking for guidance. I have scattered pieces all around me, but I can't make them align. I've looked at it from every angle, but there's nothing there. Should I bring the pieces of the Triforce together? Or should I keep them separate? Is the Mirror of Twilight my only hope? Or does that prophecy speak of some other disaster? How can we face the might of Dragmire when dragons answer his call?"

Zelda told her mother everything, as she had done a dozen times before. It helped to speak aloud her problems. More than once that simple act brought forth new ideas or aimed her focus on the correct plan of action. She liked to think of it as a little gift from her mother. But nothing came to her this time. When she lifted her head, hoping for some spark of an idea, she scowled at the unwashed gravestone. Link and Navi would be waiting for her and starving, she knew, but she could not leave her mother like this.

Dirt tumbled down the grave as she scratched at the lettering, not stopping until every word was clear. Then she wiped the rest of the marble with her sleeve, though she left streaks behind. Still, it was better than it had been, more deserving of the Queen of Hyrule, the savior of this village. Did none of the Inquisitors care? Or had everyone grown so used to Dampé tending the graves that no one thought to take up the mantle when he could no longer perform his duties?

The grass still needed to be trimmed, or at least leveled off and cleared from the base of the marble. She grabbed the long strands and held them taut so her knife sheared through them. She worked one handful after the other until dirt and flecks of green clung up her arms.

She pulled up another fistful of grass and it all came loose from the earth. A chunk of dirt and roots dangled from her hand, she hadn't lifted it hard. When she looked down into the hole she saw glass, tinted green and muddied. There was no way Dampé would have ever let something like this sully the plot. She dug around it, revealing more and more of the glass, until she was able to pull free a bottle from the dirt.

It was a wine bottle, she was certain of it. It looked like one of Impa's favorites and something was inside. Zelda wiped off the loose soil and squinted. There was some rolled up parchment inside. She uncorked the bottle and fished out the letter.

Zelda run.

Kakariko is not safe.

The Inquisitors cannot be trusted.

It is worse than I ever feared.

Run.