Chapter 42: Rely on Those We Trust
Impa knocked on the door and cleared her throat. "Princess? Princess it is late." No response.
"She won't open the door, ya see?" Gleena said. The servant stood with her hands on her hips, Maise a step behind her. "I've heated the water for her bath, and we're supposed to collect her clothes for cleaning. Her Highness won't answer. What I'd tell you?"
Impa took hold of the doorhandle and rattled it.
"She locked it, she did." Gleena continued. "That's why I sent Maise to find you. Hope you can talk some sense into the girl. I still have most my morning work to do. And you're the only one she listens to."
"If Wenti doesn't get the wash soon, she'll be up in arms," Maise added. "You know how she gets when things don't go her way."
"Princess Zelda," Impa knocked on the door again. Much harder this time. "If you don't unlock the door, I will have to fetch your father."
"Sorry ma'am," Maise said after another moment of silence. "You don't think, perhaps, that something might be wrong with her Highness? I don't fancy having to break such news to his Majesty."
"Don't even say such things," Gleena scowled. "She's a healthy young lady."
"I'm only saying it's possible. No harm in just saying. Besides it happens, two of my cousins passed in the night. And Stephen was younger even than the Princess."
And that is quite enough of that. "Thank you both for bringing this to my attention. I shall take care of the princess and whatever she needs."
"But what about the heated water?" Gleena said. "You won't want to be carrying it yourself ma'am it's heavy."
"And the clothes. Wenti will-"
"I shall take care of it. You both have other duties that require your attention, I suggest you perform them. Leave Princess Zelda to me."
"But what if you find her, you know? Gone to meet Hylia, my mah used to say."
"I am certain I don't know what you mean, Maise."
"Thank you, Lady Impa," Gleena nodded her respect. Then took Maise by the elbow and dragged the younger servant down the stairs away from the royal chambers.
Once the two left and Impa was certain no one saw her, she pulled her picks from her sleeve. In seventeen seconds, the lock clicked open, and Impa slid her tools back to their place. She took a moment to compose herself and opened the door. "Zelda, what do you think-"
The princess sat at her desk, her head slumped over and resting on some parchment. A few books at her side, several left open. Including one with a drawing of a strange plump little man in green chasing lights. The Three only knew what Zelda expected to find in that one.
"What am I going to do with you?" Impa said as she went to Zelda's shoulder. The girl worked through the night. She'd made a habit of it ever since she made her apology to King Dragmire. So much the girl wished to accomplish, and not enough hours in the day to do so. To be young and have the much energy again.
The Princess thought she hid her nocturnal activities, but Impa and half the court noticed the bags beneath her eyes. The girl must learn she cannot do everything. Perhaps if Impa forced her to go through one miserable day completely exhausted, she'd learn to go to sleep at the proper time. Of course, that never worked for me as I child. But then Zelda might just learn from her mistakes faster than I. She took a moment to stifle her chuckle.
"It is well past time to wake up, Princess," Impa rested her hands on Zelda's shoulders. Easing the girl out of her slumber. "There is much to do today. Another meeting of the war council, and word is there is finally news from Death Mountain. Messengers should have arrived this morning."
The girl slept like a log. Impa gently squeezed and shook her shoulders. "Zelda, it is time to wake up."
The princess didn't move. Impa shook her again.
She's fine. She's just exhausted. She's fine.
Zelda's head rested on a map, a quill rolled on top of it. Had the princess been trying to plan a route for the war? No, it couldn't be. The books around her had little to do with warfare, and there was no splotch of ink anywhere on the map. There was no inkwell on the table at all.
Impa's neck tensed. Her body reacting the same as it had when she thought herself discovered by a Gerudo scout, or when she witnessed one of her partners strung up by his entrails. Those terrors that grip around your heart in a single instant. Zelda's chest had not risen or fallen with breath. Even hunched over, her shoulders should move. They weren't.
"Wake up," Impa begged. Though it did not help. She grabbed Zelda and held the child close, the limp body slumped over her arm. A strangled despairing note left her throat. Her hands trembled.
No. Not now. This is not helping. I must force away the governess and let the Needle do her work.
She pressed her fingers on the artery of the girl's throat. Nothing.
Nothing.
Then the faintest, dimmest heartbeat Impa ever felt. So slight it may have been a trick of her mind. Some hopeful fantasy twisting her senses. Only when she felt the light drum again did she pull her fingers away.
She was alive. Impa let herself breathe a sigh of relief before returning to her work. The unconscious princess had no frothing of the mouth, no liquid coming from her eyes or nose. Her clothes had no tears in them, and no specks of blood on her neck, arms, or feet. No residue on her hands or back of neck. That ruled out any poison that Impa knew.
This could not be natural. "What have you done?"
Zelda needed a doctor. No, what would they do against magic? Focus, I need to bring her to Father Rauru.
But how to get the princess out of the castle? And she would need to explain her absence from the day's meetings.
Impa rested Zelda back down on the desk, took a moment to brush away the loose strands of hair that had fallen over her face. As if a gentle touch and sentimentality would wake her up. Once Impa stopped her foolishness, she took the key to the royal chambers and left the room. Locking the door behind her.
The Great Hall smelled of fresh bread and mutton from last night, served again as the king broke his nightly fast. Lio sat at the head of a table, wiping his bread into a bowl of mortrew. A small delegation of masons sat before him at several smaller tables. None of which looked to carry any weapon but a knife, which most used to cut their bread and mutton. One stood before the king and spoke at length over some inane details about a trade agreement. The other masons seemed more interested in sharing a king's meal than paying attention to the speaker.
Impa frowned as she passed them. Ever since Lio opened his morning meal to court, he'd doubled the unimportant complaints he received that inexplicably required his attention. All excuses to eat like a king, Impa knew. When she told Lio to stop the practice he admonished her.
"Seeing my people enjoy a meal is one of the few bright spots of my day," he had said. "They are hurting nothing."
But they did waste his already limited time. At least of the stubborn royals she knew, this one had the sense to sleep. But now was not the time to think on that. She searched the crowds forming around the hall. Dignitaries lined up, or sat at distant tables as they waited for their turn to speak and eat. Servants swarmed around the room, offering drinks to those who looked important. There. Seated among a group of merchants, her eyes locked with the familiar bald man. She wiped just under her eye, then dropped her hand to her side to tap twice against her leg. Paused. Then twice more.
The merchant gave her the smallest of nods before returning to his conversation. Impa made certain she did not look at him any further as she made her way to the king. But out of the corner of her eye, she saw him rise from his seat.
"A moment, goodman Wilbur," the king stopped the mason mid-sentence. "Lady Impa, good morrow. Is something wrong?"
"A minor thing, your Majesty. Her Royal Highness is feeling ill and will not be breaking fast with you this morning. And likely will not join you for meetings the rest of the day."
Concern immediately flashed across his face. "Nothing serious, is it?"
"Only a chill, your Majesty. She's been staying up too late again, it caught up to her."
The king did not look much relieved, but he nodded. "I should have her books locked away. At least then she would get some rest. Keep me informed, would you?"
"Of course, your Majesty."
"If it should get any worse."
"You shall be the first to know."
The king humphed, as he contemplated speaking further. Instead he glanced toward the doors into the Great Hall that led to the royal chambers and Zelda's quarters. He sighed, then nodded to Impa before turning back to the masons. "Thank you for your patience, goodman. Please, continue."
Impa left the hall back the way she came. Before she reached the stairs, the bald merchant joined her, though far enough back no one would know they traveled together. He only reached her side just as Impa unlocked the doors to the Princess' room. She let him slip in before her, then entered, shut the door, and locked it.
"Huh," was all Kieve said as he went to Zelda's side. He took her by the wrist, lifted her arm and let it go. The limb flopped onto the desk. "Now that does seem to be a problem. She dead?"
"No, unconscious."
He circled around the desk, his eyes wandering over every inch of the princess and her work. "Not that I don't grieve for the girl, but this looks better suited for a doctor. Or coroner."
"Kieve, I need help getting her out of the castle."
"Huh," he stopped, his hands went to the back of his bald pate and started drumming. His eyes once more roamed around, this time over the room. "I've never kidnapped a princess before. That's exciting."
"We're not-" Impa sighed, the man was still enjoyed being as irritating as ever. "What are you thinking?"
He gestured toward the folded stack of clothes Zelda left for the servants to collect. "The Wandering Washer?"
"My thought as well."
He walked around the room and huffed. "How can royals live with all this useless junk, but have nothing practical I can use to move a body? It's impolite, is what it is. Like they don't even want to be kidnapped. Give me a moment, I need to grab some things."
Impa unlocked the door for him and watched as he made his way to the stairs. Steady, confident, as though it was simply another boring day for a wealthy merchant. No panic, no rush that could hint toward the dire situation. Despite the fear she held for the princess, it felt good to work with professionals again.
She locked the door behind him, and went back to Zelda and checked her pulse again. Still alive. Hurry Kieve. She needed something to do. If she let herself get consumed with fear for Zelda she'd be useless. The books caught her attention first. Most she had seen before. The Royal Library did not have many books on magic, and to hear Zelda tell it, the few they did have were less than useful. But she kept a handful of them in her room.
Among them, her eyes were drawn to the strange tome with the picture of the plump little green man. She picked it up and flipped through a few of the pages. "What is this?" She spun the book around and read the book's ridiculous title, before returning to the page Zelda had it opened to. It was a poem that described the feeling of a fairy, whatever that meant. What was Zelda doing with fairies? Did she wish to learn more about the forest boy?
Before she could pick up the next book, a few clicks sounded at the door. It swung open, Kieve entered, clutching his lockpick and a long burlap bag with shoulder straps. The kind the servants used to carry clothes for washing. He shut the door behind him and brought the sack beside Zelda. He reached inside and pulled out a smaller bag.
He whistled to himself as he went to the pile of clothes and dumped them into the laundry bag. Satisfied, he moved to Zelda. "You take the arms, I'll take the legs?"
Impa nodded as Kieve pulled Zelda's chair away from the desk. Her limp body flopped forward and would have struck the corner had Impa not caught her.
"Be gentle." Impa rocked Zelda back and took hold of her delicate little arms.
"I am being gentle." He said as he took Zelda's legs and lifted.
"You're handling a princess, not a sack of grain."
"She's a child, they should get a few bumps and scrapes."
A knock came from the door. Both the spies froze, with the princess half tipped into the basket.
"Princess," came the king's voice. "Zelda. I- Is it… may I enter?"
"Why is he here," Kieve hissed through clenched teeth.
"I understand you're not feeling well. And- well- may I enter?"
"Finish the job, I'll get rid of him."
"Zelda?" the king knocked again.
Impa moved to the door, checking over her shoulder to make certain that Kieve and the princess were not at a visible angle before she opened it. "Your majesty."
"Impa," the king said. "Is my daughter-?"
"Sleeping, your majesty. Sound asleep, I'm afraid. That's what's best for her."
"But I heard you…" the king trailed off. His jaw set, and his eyes drifted dejected to the ground. "Oh." Was all he said. Then he nodded to Impa and turned away without another word.
Impa closed her eyes and let out a quiet sigh. Of course, he heard her talking to someone and now believes the princess is wide awake and just doesn't wish to see him. Another problem to solve later, now she had more pressing matters.
She shut the door and turned back to Kieve. Her fellow Needle finished the work, placing a few pieces of clothes over Zelda's head. He took a step back, nodded in satisfaction at his work then pulled off his shirt, revealing the flab he'd accumulated over the years. Then he opened the smaller bag and pulled out a light blue shirt and white hose of a castle servant and put them on.
Impa helped him hoist the laundry bag over his shoulders.
"She's heavy for such a little thing," he muttered. "What have you been feeding her?"
"She's light, you're out of shape."
"I'm in the perfect shape for a master spy. Who'd expect a Needle to look like me?"
"Bring the princess to the Temple of the Three outside the marketplace. It's a fairly small-"
"I know where it is," Kieve said as he adjusted the shoulder straps. "You going to tell me why I'm bringing royalty to a church of all places?"
Impa pursed her lips and glared at her old friend.
"Can't blame me for asking."
"Thank you Kieve." Impa went to the door, glanced outside to make certain no one was coming. She motioned for Kieve to move. The moment he stepped out of the door, his entire body changed. His stance lowered, his posture hunched, even how he held his head and the muscles of his face changed. No longer Kieve the Needle, or even the wealthy merchant. He became a castle servant, one no one would give a second glance.
He disappeared down the stairwell. Now to find her own way out of the castle. Without alerting anyone she and the princess were gone. She glanced at the window. Opening the glass, she stuck her head out. So far down the tower to reach the ground, and she didn't have her climbing equipment with her. How had a child climbed this far?
She shook her head as she closed the window. Old she may be, and a little out of practice, but if she could not make her way out of the castle undetected, she had no business protecting the princess. Leave scaling towers for the young.
When she reached the temple, Kieve had already arrived, red faced and puffing. One of Rauru's disciples, Helmin, had stopped him at the door. And the young priest did not look pleased.
"I don't know who told you to do this," Helmin said, "but we do our own laundry."
"Of course, but if you would just let me show you-"
"Aren't you a bit old to be performing jokes like this? This is a holy temple, you should show us at least a modicum of dignity."
Impa stepped beside Kieve and let the young man see her. "Helmin, he's with me, and we need to speak to Father Rauru."
The boy looked between the two of them, confused at first, but then he nodded and stood aside. "I think he's in the outside, in the back." Once they entered, he shut the door behind them. "Wait here." He gave Kieve one final lingering look of curiosity before he headed to the back of the church.
"That's it," Kieve stopped and shifted the basket off his back. "That's as far as I'm taking this thing." He swung the basket forward and dropped the princess the last few inches to the ground.
"Careful!" Imps hissed.
"What am I going to do, make her unconscious twice over?" He rubbed his shoulders and stretched. "By the Three you may be right. I do need to lose some weight." Once satisfied, he looked about the temple with a cheery smile. For all the world appearing as some gormless provincial visiting Castle Town for the first time. As seamless an impression as his servant or merchant.
"Thank you for your help," Impa interrupted his investigation of the area. It was unlikely that Kieve would find anything, but best not risk it. "You should go, get some rest."
Kieve cast his gaze on her, and his dull smile widened. "Are you truly not going to tell me what all this is?"
"No."
"I can discover it myself, you know."
"Your duty is to observe the king, the princess' doings are mine. The Inquisitors have-"
"Don't give me that, you hadn't sent a report to the Inquisitors for five years before you requested my aid."
"How do you know that? The Inquisition never shares their reports."
"I'm good."
"Kieve, I'm asking as a friend. Leave this one behind. Don't report it to the Inquisitors, don't mention it to anyone. You owe me."
"You used to be so much fun. Very well, this didn't happen. I'm currently enjoying a wonderful meal of mutton at the palace." He patted his belly before heading toward the door. He stopped halfway outside and turned back to Impa. "If this situation remains, the Inquisitors will find out. If they give me a direct order, I won't be able to let this slide. The old man can't protect you anymore."
"I understand."
"I hope you do," Kieve said as he shut the door.
Impa moved to the laundry bag and placed her hand on the top layer. She felt Zelda's head beneath the clothes. They made it. But what would happen if Rauru could not fix her? What if whatever happened could not be reversed? The only others that might have power and knowledge enough to save her were the Inquisitors that Kieve so rightly feared. And the thought of giving Zelda to those... creatures, made a chill run up her spine.
A door squeaked open, Rauru strolled into the nave with Helmin at his side. For the first time, Impa saw him without his vestments. Instead he wore simple woolen leggings and a yellow tunic. Not even particularly well made, the kind you'd see all over the city. His leggings even had a patch at his hip, clearly sewn together. A bit of dirt on his knees and shoes, had he been gardening? And as always, no weapons.
"Lady Impa," he said with a respectful nod. "I did not expect you." His eyes went to the laundry on the floor. "I owe an apology Helmin, you spoke true. May I ask why there is a bag of - what appears to be – her Royal Highness' garments in my temple?"
Impa pulled up the top layer of laundry.
Rauru gave a short grunt as the princess was revealed, immediately worry etched onto his face. "What has happened?"
"I was hoping you would tell me. She has not moved since I found her this morning, her breathing is present, but slight. On her desk there was a map, and a dry quill, along with several books of magic. Can you help her?"
"I can try, Helmin help me lie her out on the floor." The two pulled Zelda free of the clothes, and laid her out like a corpse. Rauru grimaced as he placed his hand on Zelda's head, shutting his eyes in concentration. He mumbled something that Impa could not understand. Then waited. "That's not..."
That's not what?
His fingers pressed into her arm, and when he moved them, he left behind bruises. He was hurting her, and yet the princess did not move. No signs of discomfort or pain. It made her look more like a dead body as the old man pried at her.
Every part of Impa tensed. She wished to turn away, to hide her face rather than see Zelda like this. But she forced herself to watch. What if Rauru needed her to help? She needed to be strong. She'd seen far worse. She'd done far worse.
"That's not strong enough." Rauru's frown deepened. Impa watched the muscles of his jaw clench, and the movement of his eyelids. "Helmin," he said finally without opening his eyes. "Fetch me a parchment and quill."
Helmin fled to the doors at the far side of the temple where the priests lived. He returned a moment later carrying a stack of parchments in one hand, a quill and inkwell in the other.
Rauru put the stack on a pew and jotted something down. He only needed one page before he blew on the ink to dry it and handed the parchment to Helmin. "Go to the kitchen and brew this. We may have to force it down the Princess' throat, so make certain all the bits are small enough to swallow. Understand?"
The assistant looked over the list, and his expression grew more confused as he went. "Is this some kind of magic potion?"
"No."
"Then why is he making it?" Impa hissed.
"Something has shattered her mind and scattered the pieces. I'm going to try and pull them all back together, but that is easier if her body is feeling a strong sensation to draw them in. And that's what we'll give her. Helmin. Go."
He fled the room.
Rauru went back to his chanting, pressing his fingers into Zelda's forehead. It looked painful, as though he was trying to push through her skin.
Shattered her mind? How literal was she meant to take that? She remembered the sunken wrecks she captured and sent to the pits. How the Inquisition worked on their minds, prying out all their secrets and crimes. No one came back from that. Was this Impa's punishment then? For all the sins of her old life. All the lies told, all those she dragged away. How many she left alone in the dark or worried over children that would never return.
It must be. But it wasn't fair. The punishment should fall on her shoulders, not Zelda's.
"Please," Impa whispered. Just that one word. But there was so much more she wished to say. Please take me instead. Please save the child. Please.
Rauru's voice rose, filling the room with a sharp language Impa had never heard before. But it was not alone. There was something else, a different voice. It sounded like the faintest laughter.
But there was no one else in the temple. Not until Helmin returned with a pot of steaming liquid. As he approached, Impa almost gagged at the smell. The assistant looked to be fighting a valiant battle against his own desire to be sick as he carried the pot as far from his nose as possible. The scent of rotten eggs, fermenting fish, and the foulest of molded cheese all boiled in an onion sauce filled the temple. When he placed the pot down before her, Impa coughed and tried to breathe through her mouth. It did not help.
Rauru opened Zelda's mouth and Helmin ladled the liquid into it. Half of the foul brew spilled out over her lips and splashed onto her clothes.
Did Zelda twitch?
A glow came from around Rauru's fingers. He continued his incantations, his words echoing throughout the nave until it sounded as if two or three Rauru's all chanted in unison. Helmin massaged the liquid down Zelda's throat before preparing to give her more.
Zelda moved. No question about it. Her eyes twitched beneath their lids and the muscles in her neck spasmed. It was working.
But Rauru did not look relieved. He spoke louder, his brow furrowed, his fingers tensed. He pushed on Zelda's forehead enough to hurt her, were she awake. Why? Was something wrong?
The liquid burst from Zelda's mouth and the faint laughter returned. It came from the princess. It wasn't her voice, Impa knew her voice better than her own. As the foul brew spewed down Zelda's chin, the laughter grew louder, wilder, piercing the air like a knife. Impa tried to think what she could do to help. How she could remove whatever used Zelda's body to laugh. But she thought of nothing. The decades of training, of learning spycraft and how to solve problems, of mastery in all her skills. And she could do nothing but watch.
"Let her go," Rauru hissed, before he continued his chant. His voice rose into a shout, and a hundred voices around the temple joined him all in unison. A glow formed around Zelda. As the voices grew loud enough to shake the windows the light grew brighter. Until Impa needed to shield her eyes from it.
No matter how loud Rauru's voice, the laughter persisted. A wild witchlike cackle, impossible to overpower or ignore. "I am stronger in this life!" The voice screeched. "I am better! I am better!"
"Silence!" Rauru shouted and all the chanting stopped in a single clap of thunder.
And the world obeyed. The echoes of Rauru ceased, and the cackling voice was gone. Only Rauru's strained breathing remained.
Impa opened her eyes and found herself clutching one of the pews for support. The light dimmed. Rauru stumbled away from the princess.
"Is it… is she?"
Zelda's eyes opened. She blinked a few times. "Impa?" her voice was hoarse. "Rauru? Helmin? Why am I on the floor? What is that taste? That smell?"
Impa gave a sputtering gasp and fell back onto the pew. The princess was safe. Everything felt heavy, even her head. She held up her forehead lest she collapse through the earth. Her hands went wet. She was crying. The last time she remembered crying was years ago, before Zelda was even born. When her old friends offered her drinks for her first kill, and her emotions got the best of her. But there was nothing she could do to stop herself.
The Princess was safe.
"Impa?" Zelda gasped through a fit of coughs and strangles choking. "What's happening?"
"You almost died, girl," Rauru said. "Helmin, fetch her a washcloth and something to get the taste out of her mouth."
Impa wiped her eyes dry in time to see Zelda scowl as she moved to wipe her mouth, but stopped halfway. She fidgeted trying so hard not to get her gloves filthy by wiping away Rauru's concoction. Thankfully, Helmin once more came to her rescue, with a basin of water and a not entirely clean cloth.
Zelda gave the cloth a scowl, but she took it and wiped at her mouth and tried to clean some of it that spilled onto her dress. Though wiping it did little good. Once convinced she could make herself no cleanlier, Zelda tried to stand up. Her legs gave out after her first step.
"Careful, princess," Rauru said. "I doubt you have much energy left to do anything at all. Whatever you faced took everything you had, and more."
"Could one of you at least help me off the floor? This is not dignified."
Rauru and Helmin took the girl under her arms and hoisted her up. Somehow the two men holding up the child with her feet dragging behind her looked even less dignified to Impa's eyes. Especially as Rauru heaved and huffed in the process. They placed Zelda next to Impa.
Once seated, Zelda tried to raise her chin and give the haughty expression nobles made when they felt weak. As though a look would restore their dignity in some way. But Impa reached out and gently pulled Zelda to rest her head on Impa's shoulder, and for once the princess did not protest.
Rauru rubbed sweat from his head then wiped his hands on his tunic. "Princess," he said once he composed himself. "I just touched the mind of a powerful creature. Were she not far away, I doubt I would have been able to free you from her grasp. Do you want to explain why my otherwise peaceful morning was interrupted by this?"
"Unfortunately, I cannot," Zelda said, trying and failing to put some authority behind her weak voice. Impa needed to clench her jaw to keep herself from crying again. She was safe, but she had not yet learned anything.
"And I can't help you, if you don't tell me what's going on."
"I said, I cannot," Zelda's voice was barely a whisper. "Please understand, I have to-"
"That is enough," Impa said. Both of them snapped their attention to her. "You cannot keep acting as you are. I am supposed to protect you from threats, and I cannot do that if you do not tell me what you are doing. Rauru cannot teach you how to overcome these threats if you do not inform him of your designs."
"But it's for your own-"
Impa shifted her weight on the pew, not enough to separate them completely, but creating a small distance. Enough for Zelda to understand she was serious. "Princess, you have the following options: either you tell Father Rauru what you have been doing, sparing no detail, or you tell his Royal Majesty."
Zelda's eyes went wide, before her father's scowl appeared on her face. Royalty did not like having their options restricted. "I will do no such thing."
"Then let me be more clear. You do one of those, or I am leaving."
"What?"
"I have cherished our time together. But I will not sit by and watch you endanger yourself so recklessly."
Zelda pulled away. Her eyes locked on Impa's face, the girl was smart, searching for some sign that Impa was lying or exaggerating for effect. Impa kept her eyes narrowed and keen, and her features stern.
"Which will it be?"
The princess looked as if she were on the verge of tears. No, do not give in. This is for her own good.
"Princess," Rauru said. "You can trust us."
Zelda's eyes fell. "I- I hardly know where to start."
But she found her words. Starting with meeting a boy and his fairy and discovering the prophecies of a goddess. She stopped, looked at Rauru, as if she worried that he would be furious at her for keeping hidden the messages of his goddesses. But Rauru did nothing but urge her to continue, no anger, no disappointment.
Impa held the girl tight and felt her relief. And when she told the events of the prior night all Impa could do was hope that Zelda knew in her arms she would always be safe.