Astir was getting just a little annoyed by his father-in-law's ability to arrive ahead of him. If Hadrian hadn't had Link and Zelda in tow, Astir would have assumed that he had teleported back to the castle, because when Astir opened the door to his room, Hadrian was there with Link, Zelda, and Ysabel. Ysabel was sitting on the side of the bed, between Link and Zelda, listening to Hadrian with wide-eyed rapture as he apparently filled her in on what was happening.

As soon as Astir entered the room, Ysabel ran to him and flung herself against him so hard, he staggered backwards. If not for the doorframe catching him, he would have fallen.

"Oh, Astir. Darling," Ysabel said, kissing him between words. "Thank you! Thank you!" she exclaimed, crying and laughing joyously at the same time.

"Don't get your hopes up just yet," Link said, watching them from the other side of the room. "We're still a long way from figuring out where your son is and who has him. And we're only speculating on why he was taken in the first place."

Astir wrapped his arms around Ysabel, holding her close. It was the first affection she had shown him since their son went missing. "We understand that," he replied. "But you have at least given us hope when, before, we had none at all."

The knights—who seemed none-too-eager to go home and who kept staring at Link with reverential awe—were put to use helping Hadrian and Addison track down the things that Link and Zelda needed for their quest. Food was brought up and Link and Zelda fell on it ravenously, as if they were starving.

"We haven't eaten in a few thousand years," Link said between bites. "And even if we had just eaten, I think I could still find room for this," he said, waving a cracker with pâté smeared on top. "It's delicious. Best thing I think I've ever eaten," he declared, before popping it into his mouth.

"Better than a sticky bun?" Zelda asked with a smirk.

He considered it for a moment as he chewed. "'Bout da sam'," he replied with a mouth full of food.

"High praise indeed."

"Do you like sweets, sir?" one of the knights asked eagerly. "We can get pastries for you."

Link swallowed his bite. "I wouldn't say 'no' to something sweet," he said with a hopeful note in his voice.

The knight hurried out of the room. Within minutes, he was back with a tray full of buns, slices of pie and cake, and candies of all shapes and hues. Link's eyes widened like a kid surveying a table full of birthday presents.

"Where to begin . . ." he mused as he surveyed the bounty.

"I don't know where you'll start, but I know where it will end up," Zelda said, reaching over and poking him in the belly.

Link laughed, but he was not shamed out of taking a massive cinnamon roll from the tray. But for every two bites of it he ate, he tore a piece off and fed it to Zelda. For all her teasing, she didn't turn it down when it was offered.

Finding clothes and shoes that fit the two heroes proved to be a bit of a challenge. Astir and Ysabel were considerably taller and larger than their ancestors—as was everyone else present. Addison got the idea to check the uniforms for the stableboys and pageboys and finally found something there, among the adolescent sizes, which would fit Link and Zelda.

"I'm sorry we don't have anything nicer for you," Astir said as he looked them over after they changed. Link was wearing a page's outfit: white pants with a blue tunic trimmed in white with the royal crest—which was a variant of the royal arms—embroidered on it. Zelda's clothing was intended for a stableboy: heavy, nut-brown pants, with a blousy, unadorned blue shirt tucked into the pants. Both were wearing the heavy, knee-high boots that the stablehands wore. They were made for mucking out stalls, so they were sturdy and waterproof, but definitely not the sort of boots you would offer such illustrious guests.

"This is fine," Link said, strapping on a sword belt. The scabbard for his sword had long since become a brittle relic in the chapel display case, but Hadrian had found a new scabbard that fit the sword well enough and he had it put on a boy's belt.

"We don't want anything fancy, anyway," Zelda added, as she tested her bow, freshly-strung with a new bowstring. "This is better for traveling."

Link eyed Zelda as she tested the pull on her bow. "How's it feel?"

"Like I remember," she said, with some surprise. Then she offered it to him. "You can pull harder than I can. Give it a good test."

Link took the bow and pulled it back with all his might, bending it into a near-perfect C-shape. But the old bow—so lovingly maintained through the generations—did not break.

"Seems safe enough to me," Link said, handing it back to her.

"Do you want regular arrows, or—" Addison started to ask.

"The Light Arrows, please," Zelda replied. "They are much more accurate."

"Do you need any of your other weapons?" Hadrian asked. "Everything has been preserved, just as you left it."

Link shook his head. "Not at the moment. We're just going to the Lost Woods, then we're coming back. No need to carry an extra burden."

He looked at Astir. "While we're gone, you need to prepare a ship for us."

"Certainly. What kind do you want? A large ship, or something small enough you can handle yourselves?"

Link considered this for a moment. "Hmm. I'm not sure."

"If you want to take men with you, you will have no shortage of knights willing to go with you," one of the knights offered.

"Let me think about it," Link said. "I need to figure out the best way to go in."

"I'll have one of each kind of ship readied for you," Astir offered. "That way, you can take whichever you decide on."

"That works." Then Link held up his left hand. "If you will . . ." He stopped speaking, staring at his hand.

"What is it?" Astir asked with confusion.

Link continued to look at his hand for a moment, then turned to Zelda. "I don't remember losing the tip of my pinkie finger."

She put her bow on the table and took Link's left hand in hers, examining it. "No, I don't remember you losing part of your finger." She looked up at him, then touched his cheek. "You don't have Tarsus's scars."

He grabbed the neck of his tunic and pulled it over to his left shoulder. "Is my arrow wound there?"

"No."

"Turn around."

She turned around and Link pulled down the neckline of her top enough to see the top of her back. "You don't have scars, either."

She turned back to him. "So, we're back to being seventeen or eighteen years old again—before we went on our quest."

"So it would seem."

"So you definitely should not be missing a finger."

"Definitely not. If I had a sword accident that neither of us remembers, it would have definitely happened during or after our quest."

"What . . . what does it mean?" Astir asked.

Link turned to him. "It means someone lost my fingertip after I died."

Astir quickly shook his head. "No one has disturbed your tomb before today."

"Not in our lifetime," Hadrian corrected. "But we can't attest to what anyone did before."

"At the very least, it was opened when I was buried," Zelda said. "I died after Link."

"Maybe someone took it as a relic," Link said. "People have been weird about venerating us," he pointed out.

Hadrian and the other knights looked down awkwardly, as if personally called out.

"Venerating you," Zelda corrected. "You're the god-knight."

Link laughed.

"Is there anything we can do to fix it?" Addison asked, trying to get back on task.

Link shook his head. "I don't think so." He looked at his hand again. "It's just weird to be missing a bit." Then he suddenly laughed. "Although, if someone really does have it as a relic somewhere, it might be looking, um, a bit more fleshed-out right now."

"I hope it creeps them out," Zelda said firmly. "Serves them right for desecrating our grave."

Link turned back to Astir and held up his left hand once again. "As I started to say, before I was so rudely interrupted by a finger-thief, if you will bond with us, that will save us some travel time and allow us to ask you questions and give you updates."

Astir felt a jolt of excitement course through him. He would have never felt worthy of offering his hand to Link and Zelda, but here they were, offering to bond with him rather casually, as if it was no big deal—just a matter of business.

"Um, c-certainly," Astir said, eagerly rising to his feet. He put his right hand out and touched it to Link's. Suddenly Astir found himself floating in a bright golden realm. He had bonded with several people in his life, so the experience wasn't odd, but he was still excited about it nonetheless.

You need to be very careful with Ysabel, Link's voice warned.

Why, what's wrong with her?

She is very emotionally fragile. Everything that she is, is tied up in your baby. Should we fail to recover him . . . I'm not sure what would happen.

Astir had been living—or, truthfully, not living—with her for the past month; he had some idea of what Ysabel would be like if Lucien couldn't be found.

I know, he replied.

He hesitated, then rushed forward with a question that had weighed on his mind for fifteen years. Is . . . is it my fault we haven't been able to have children?

I'm not privy to that information. But even if I was, I wouldn't tell you because it wouldn't do you or Ysabel any good.

I just . . . if it is me—my fault—then maybe she wouldn't feel so bad.

But what if it's her? Would you set her aside and take a different wife?

Never.

Then, like I said, it wouldn't do either of you any good to know. If it's a fault in you, there's nothing you can do about it. If it's a fault in her, there's nothing you will do about it. So knowing improves nothing.

A moment later, Astir found himself back in his body in his bedroom. He felt a little dizzy from the rush and he sat down rather hard in his chair.

But Zelda stepped up next, holding out her hand. Still a bit dazed, Astir held up his hand again and touched it to hers.

He was whisked away to the golden space again where he floated in warm bliss. Is this what it's like to be dead? he asked. Is this where you go?

Yes, she replied.

Why would anyone want to be born into this life when you can live in this?

It never changes. You never change. In order to have experiences and to grow, you have to go into the mortal realm.

Although, she added after a moment, Link and I never change regardless. We have a different reason for incarnating.

What's that?

It is our job to take care of the world. Or, rather, the Hylian world, as you know it. We incarnate for its sake, not our own.

Astir thought that sounded like an awfully heavy burden. And he was suddenly conscious that he had just placed his burden onto them. It was easy to think that the legendary Link and Zelda could fix any problem, but had he not just seen their skeletons lying in a tomb? Had they not screamed in agony as their bodies had been constructed in reverse? Did they not hunger and thirst? Link even expressed happiness over sweets and Zelda playfully teased him about it. Despite their legendary status, they were, at the end of the day, mortal beings, the same as everyone else. It seemed unfair that they should bear the weight of everyone else's hopes and dreams. It was unfair that they alone were responsible for taking care of the world.

A moment later, Astir found himself back in his body, breathing heavily from the shock of being back in the mortal realm again.

Zelda looked at him. Don't worry about us, she told him telepathically. We're here because we want to help. We promised to help our descendants—as much as the gods will allow us to intervene.

"I think that's everything," Link said, interrupting their private conversation. "Assuming you have our supplies ready?"

"They're waiting downstairs for you, sir," Hadrian replied.

"Good. Then let's go. Zelda and I are living on borrowed time, and the sooner your baby is returned to you, the better."

Zelda grabbed her bow from the table and they started to head out. Everyone else followed faithfully behind them, like pageboys.

"What do you mean you're living on borrowed time?" Astir asked, as he hobbled down the hallway behind them.

"We're not here for a lifetime," Link said, glancing over his shoulder at Astir. "The magic used to bring us here will only last for so long. Then we will go back."

"How long do you have?" Astir asked anxiously.

Link shook his head. "I don't know."

"Don't you think it's kind of important to know?" Astir said as they started down the stairs. "You need to know what sort of timeframe you have to work with."

"You assume the gods know," Zelda said. "This has never been done before."

"It's probably only possible because of who Zelda and I are," Link said. "It probably couldn't even be done with anyone else—anyone truly mortal."

"I . . . don't understand," Astir said, looking between them. "What do you mean 'truly mortal?'"

Link shook his head. "Nevermind. It's not important. Just know that we're in a hurry because we won't last long."

He pointed to a couple of baskets by the door. "Are these ours?"

Hadrian hurried forward. "Yes, sir." He picked up a basket and held it out. Link put his arms through straps and hoisted it onto his back. Hadrian quickly helped Zelda into a basket of her own.

"You should have enough supplies to last a week," Hadrian told them.

"I hope to only be gone a day or two, at most," Link said.

They stepped out the front doors. The summer night was pleasant, but a faint light on the eastern horizon promised that the sun would appear shortly to heat the day.

"Do you want two horses or just one?" Astir asked, about to raise his arm to summon a stablehand.

"Neither," Link replied, starting down the front steps. "We will teleport back to you to save time. Having to deal with horses would be a burden."

"Someone can go with you to bring the horses back," Astir said, limping behind them. "Walking will take even more time than if you rode there and back."

Link stopped on the stone drive in front of the stairs, then looked back up at Astir with a smug smile. "Who said we would walk?"

A moment later, Zelda transformed into a beautiful golden horse with a silvery mane and tail that matched her natural hair color. She seemed to glow, as if she was a moonbeam incarnate.

Link leapt effortlessly onto her back, as if it was the easiest thing in the world for a small man to hop onto the back of a full-grown horse.

"Expect to hear from us in a day or two," he said. He quickly put his hand to his forehead, as if shielding his eyes from the sun, then raised his hand in a silent farewell and, with the strange salute, he and Zelda turned away. She took a few steps, then broke into a canter. Guards scrambled to open the doors of the gate in time. They did not slow down as they exited, then they turned to the left and disappeared out of sight.

"Has this all been a dream?" one of the knights, standing behind Astir, asked. The man sounded dazed. But Astir couldn't blame him. It did seem too surreal to be real.