Not much could surprise Impa. Some would credit her "supernatural" abilities, but in truth, most of her insight came from good old-fashioned observation. People weren't all that difficult to predict, once you learned to read them. After a day and a half of carefully watching the Gerudo leader, she had enough to paint her personality in broad strokes: an outgoing introvert, slow to anger but quick to judge, wise beyond her years but stubbornly hopeful. In many ways, she reminded Impa of a more mature, confident Zelda.

The Grand Chancellor of Hyrule was (unsurprisingly) ten minutes late to his own meeting, so the two of them were stuck listening to Minister Chirila tell the Snowpeak story again.

"Now the yeti could see that I am not a man to be trifled with, so he apologized, and offered us his sleigh. It was a great enormous thing of whalebone and iron, the reins all covered in sapphires. And it was pulled by a team of white wolves." He paused to see if Nabooru was impressed.

"Sounds like something out of a folk tale."

"Indeed! It's one of the perks of being an adventurer, seeing wonders others only hear about in stories. Anyway, I told him he could keep his load of salted reekfish. My refined palate can't tolerate that sort of crude savage fare, and we really only wanted the sleigh. So he went on his way, and my cousin and I loaded up our furs and our chest of gold. Now, I don't imagine you know much about travel in the mountains."

"We have mountains back home, actually. Most of the Hebra range is in our country," Nabooru said with a polite smile. Impa wondered if she was thinking about breaking his nose. It was the only way she could smile when she had to talk to the man.

"Well yes, of course, but those little bunny-hills are nothing like Snowpeak, my dear. It is the king of all mountains. But as I was saying…"

Potho finally arrived, accompanied by a brawny man with a cropped beard and long waves of golden-brown hair. Impa recognized him as General Forcys, commander of the Faron legion. What was he doing here?

She made a quick circuit of the room, making sure the door was closed, checking behind the curtains, sweeping for eavesdropping enchantments. Standard procedure.

The chancellor set down a large folio of notes and three pens, which he would not use, and cleared his throat. "Shall we begin?"

Impa took a chair between Nabooru and the general and did what she did best: observed. Chirila was dressed to the nines, diamond cuff-links at his wrists, black hair slicked with enough beeswax to make a dozen candles. He was the only one in the room who seemed entirely comfortable. Nabooru looked like she hadn't slept much, though she hid it well. Forcys had slightly bloodshot eyes too; she thought he might be hung over. Potho occasionally shot a nervous glance his way.

She kept returning to Nabooru's hands. Chipped nail polish, callused bow-finger, a faint old scar across her palm. How her knuckles arched like hissing cats when she looked at the gold wing-crest inlaid in the center of the table, bright new lacquer tracing the ghost of the old king's sigil they had tried to buff away.

Suddenly, she realized Nabooru was looking back at her. Impa shifted in her chair and pretended she'd been listening to the chancellor. It wasn't often she got caught staring.

"Let us be frank," Potho was saying. "High-ranking officials are calling for your friend's execution. In the interest of maintaining good relations between our people, I'd like to avoid that outcome… but do you really mean to argue that she's innocent?"

He meant to put Nabooru off balance, but she didn't flinch. "Parapa did nothing wrong. It's inexcusable that you've held her this long. Still, I agree that it'll be better for all involved if we can move on from this. Since Hyrule and her allies have always behaved honorably toward us…"

Impa didn't need to be an expert at reading people to know that smile was forced.

"We will assume good faith this time," Nabooru went on. "Of course, we expect you to release her immediately."

"You've got brass, Your Ladyship, I'll give you that," Forcys drawled, leaning his elbow on the table. "We have proof that Ganondorf murdered the guardian spirit of the forest. What's more, he threatened our allies and tried to steal their treasures!"

"Regardless of what you believe about our king, he's not the one on trial here."

He cracked his knuckles. "Let's talk about what she did, then. Killed a war hero, for starts."

"Baronet Wister's death is regrettable—"

"Regrettable? Is that all you've got to say after she murdered him in cold blood?"

"He was running at her with an ax."

"Certainly we do not intend to punish this young lady for the crimes of another," Chirila interrupted before Forcys could blow his top. "But the facts seem to speak for themselves. We made King Ganondorf an offer; she appeared to collect. She admits that she was working for him. What else are we to believe?"

"As I understand it, you offered him the stone in exchange for his help."

"Please," Forcys scoffed. "I think we all know how a protection racket works."

You would, thought Impa, but he was right. Parapa was Ganondorf's trusted agent; she would have heard the rumors about his involvement in the Jabu-Jabu incident. It would be strange if she hadn't put two and two together. Nabooru knew that, though. She was stalling, finding a path through this conversation like she'd found one down the castle rooftop.

"It's hard for me to guess what she knew. I haven't been allowed to see her yet."

Though Impa could have filled in a few of the gaps, she kept quiet. It was best for now if Nabooru didn't find out who had arrested Parapa.

Unexpectedly, she felt a pang of guilt.

"Hmm. I suppose it is possible she didn't have the full story," said Potho. "But she was not merely there as your king's representative. She was disguised as him."

Forcys nodded in agreement. "And let's not forget she fired a shock arrow at Princess Ruto."

Nabooru did falter then, but only for a second. "Your soldiers had cut off her escape route. An army at her back, the river in front of her. What would you do in that scenario? Injure the princess, try to break through the line while they're distracted. And remember, she had no idea why you were attacking her."

"I wonder," said the minister. "The fact that your king sent a very well-armed decoy indicates he was expecting treachery."

"Well, he wasn't wrong."

"That argument won't earn you any favor with the tribunal," said Impa.

"You did tell me to be frank, didn't you?" Nabooru drummed her fingers on the tabletop and leaned forward. "All of you are ready to condemn Parapa, and our great King Ganondorf, because you set a trap for him and she fell into it."

Impa noticed the slight curl of her lip when she said his name. Earlier, talking to Zelda, she hadn't used any honorifics. She was adding them now out of respect for what he meant to her people. Not for him.

"So far, the only conspiracy I can see here is yours. Let me finish," Nabooru said quickly when Forcys started to object. "This secret offer you made wasn't written down anywhere. The Zora messenger… Seggin, was it? He claims he met the Wise Ones, but all we have is his word. No other witnesses, no proof that our people agreed to your terms."

"We have our sources," said Chirila.

Nabooru glanced at Impa. She read the question in her eyes. Princess Zelda's little friend? She kept her expression neutral, and barely nodded. The minister was watching them intently.

"Here's how it might look to a cynic," said Nabooru. "You send a message to King Ganondorf, offering your pretty gemstone in exchange for—let's say land, or an exclusive trade agreement. Something big enough he'd believe it was worth it to you. When he arrives, you ambush him. You get some impressionable kid to tell everyone the deal was something else, you were only defending yourselves. Your peasants are weary of violence and conquest, but a threat to the sacred Triforce? That's more than enough to rally the troops."

Forcys shot to his feet. "You're calling us liars?" he snarled.

Nabooru lifted her hands in a gesture of ambivalence. "I only said, that's how it might look."

"Let's all try to keep our tempers," Chirila tutted. "I find Lady Nabooru's perspective quite valuable. Though we can plainly see Ganondorf's dark ambitions, his people will not be so easily convinced."

Forcys slumped back into his chair, still glaring. "We don't have to convince them!"

"If we don't, our alliance is as good as over. We will make enemies among the Gerudo. Armed conflict is exceedingly likely. I'm sure none of us wants that, right General?"

"Then return Parapa to us," Nabooru pressed.

"That is our goal," said Potho, "but I'm sure you understand that we can't simply sweep this incident under the rug."

Chirila thought for a second. "It's true, though… a great deal is riding on that River Zora's testimony."

Impa knew where this was headed, and no good could come from it. "It doesn't matter if he's a River Zora," she said firmly. "Young Seggin has proven himself trustworthy so far."

Maybe her reaction was a bit too strong, because now Nabooru was interested. "What does that mean? Why would it matter?"

"They're a faction that doesn't want to serve the king of Hyrule," Chirila explained.

"Minister, do you think they'd put their own princess in danger?" Potho sighed, shaking his head. "But we are off topic."

Forcys smirked. "Chirila just hates them because they like to flip over barges and then he has to listen to the merchants complain."

"Indeed, they regularly assault my people without provocation. But Lady Impa says they are trustworthy."

"This is not relevant," Impa said through clenched teeth. Potho, get them under control or I swear to Grace.

"Pity the army can't help you out. We are all but disbanded since you people up north never want to pay your fair share of taxes."

"Don't be daft. We cannot be expected to feed regular soldiers during peacetime."

"Then expect to lose a few shipments."

"Gentlemen!" Potho thumped the floor with his walking stick. About time. "Let's focus on the case."

"I just want to bring my friend home," said Nabooru when the others had quieted down. "She doesn't deserve to die."

Potho softened a little. "If she was indeed only following orders, it is unfortunate that she's been caught up in this. The king has offered her a way out, though. If she'll help us find him…"

Nabooru didn't answer right away. She was in an impossible position. Defending Ganondorf would make her and Parapa less sympathetic to the judges. Blaming him was practically an invitation to invade her homeland, to say nothing of what would happen if her betrayal reached his ears. And she was surrounded by greedy sycophants looking to profit from her troubles.

Zelda was on her side, though. If only she would believe them.

She lowered her eyes, and Impa could tell she was giving up on this negotiation. "If I know Parapa, she'll never go along with that plan. And if you're trying to use her against King Ganondorf… we are going to have problems."

Forcys bristled. "Is that a threat?"

Nabooru glared right back. "No. A threat is when you kidnap an innocent woman and use her life as a bargaining chip."

The chancellor sighed heavily and rose. "We're finished here."

As the others were leaving, Potho pulled Impa aside.

"I'm afraid this wasn't a good idea after all," he confessed with a fretful look.

"It wasn't a bad one in principle. But who invited that idiot?"

Potho wrung his hands. "Owlan asked me to bring him in at the last minute. He's going to be leading the army's search for Ganondorf, you see."

Which meant this was now a full-scale military campaign. Zelda's hopes for avoiding war were looking bleaker by the minute.

"Please forgive him for being a little rough around the edges," said Potho. "That is, I know he… had a bit of a reputation during the war, but people do change."

"Sometimes."

"Now we've heard their side of it, at least. I had hoped Lady Nabooru could help us, but alas, it seems her hands are tied. I suppose I can see why she doesn't trust us."

"Don't count her out just yet. The princess thinks she has a way to change her mind."

"You have a great deal of faith in Her Highness."

"Yes."

While Zelda believed, Impa would not give up.

The journey from the cliffs to the mesa was 18,400 paces. Ganondorf had memorized that number early on. His shadow stretched before him, towering and gaunt, as he trudged along the windward side of the dune. A pair of smaller ones orbited above him, his mothers scouting ahead and returning. They worried far too much. Hylian armies, with their predictable tactics, overladen supply wagons, and generally poor discipline, would give themselves away long before they presented a threat. If by some fluke they did spot him, what of it? He could disappear into the sand sea, and all their sorcery wouldn't help them track him down in this place. They would be lucky to survive—if the leevers and moldorms didn't take care of them, they would soon succumb to the heat, or…

He felt the sound before he heard it, a low roar, like a thousand voices screaming in the distance. He paused, searching. Behind him, the crest of the dune wound toward the sunrise like a ribbon of amber satin. A glorious sight, if there were time to stop and enjoy it. Then the wind shifted and he saw the plume of dust rising in the distance. North. The worst kind. With a low huff of displeasure, he fastened his veil over his nose and signaled to Koume. The cloth pricked at his stubble—four days since he'd shaved. A king, holed up in a cave like a vagrant. It was shameful. He was nearly out of patience with the whole ordeal, especially since Parapa had fallen into the Hylian king's clutches.

"Storm's coming," he informed Koume and Kotake when they landed beside him.

"Mm, I see."

"Shall I get rid of it?" Kotake offered, pale blue already shimmering around her fingertips.

"No. I will not have you squander what little magic and water this land has to offer."

Ganondorf resumed his trek. He didn't blink when the storm struck half a minute later. They pressed on, deaf and blind, through a tan haze so thick he couldn't see he own hand in front of his face. Every breath was tinged with the stench of salt and death. Sand scratched at his eyes and piled up around his ankles. He drew a circle in the air, and a glowing needle materialized, turning slowly until it found north. They were still on course. He started to make his way down the slope. 700 steps to go.

An uprooted leever came flying at his face. In one motion he banished the compass, jabbed his hand through the weak spot in the middle of its "head" and crushed the core. He worked the sepals loose, avoiding the curved spines along the edge, and tossed the rest aside.

As a rule, where there is one leever, there are more. They rushed past on one side and then the other, whirling blades thumping against his hard leather boots. A trifling nuisance, but Ganondorf was not one to be patient where there was nothing to be gained. He skewered one of the creatures with his dagger, pivoted and stomped on another. Juice splattered everywhere, and that brought the whole colony down on him in a blood-crazed frenzy. He kicked the carcass away and took a few steps back, let them gather to feed. When they had lined themselves up for the slaughter, he unsheathed his swords and charged, blades weaving in a swift, deadly dance. He cut through the heart of the swarm with a whirling slash, the same maneuver he taught to his elite guards—if he was going to kill them he would not be sloppy about it. Pulp and thorns rained down around him as he landed, soft-footed, and flicked juice off his swords.

Thanks to those pests he'd lost all sense of direction. Growling in annoyance, he stopped to call up the compass again and wondered, not for the first time, how it had come to this.

Last autumn, it seemed his carefully-laid plans were finally coming to fruition. The foolish Hylian king was putty in his hands. His precocious daughter, who liked to glare at him through the courtyard window and whine about his "sharp eyes," had found herself a useful idiot in some kid from the forest, who Ganondorf had not cared to notice until he saw he was carrying the Kokiri's Emerald. A new scheme formed. The kid proceeded to undo all Ganondorf's hard work with the Gorons and Zora, and he sat back and watched, waiting for the moment when he would make better use of Zelda's idiot than she ever could.

Then, just as all the pieces were positioned for endgame, the Sisters of the Dusk brought word that the boy hadn't collected the stones after all. He recalled his mothers' uneasy glances, as if the news confirmed some long-held fear. Things began to happen rather quickly after that, and soon he found himself in the very situation he hated most: in the dark and out of control, literally hiding under a rock in the middle of nowhere, waiting for a sign from some ghost of an ancient wizard they had dug up in the wastes.

The compass was pointing the wrong direction. He took out his frustration by flinging it to the ground and started to backtrack. Something brushed his shoulder. He reached out, thinking it might be one of his mothers, but his hand met solid rock. The mesa. As he was working out what side he was on, Koume ran into his back. He lifted his cloak, offering her a bit of shelter.

"Where's Kotake?" he shouted over the howling wind.

Her reply was muffled, but she pointed to the sky and he understood. He would be up there too, if he could do it without consuming every last drop of magic he had left. (One of these days he would figure out the secret of those enchanted brooms. Nobody learns this with less than a hundred years' practice, Koume had told him, but he would prove her wrong.)

They made their way along the wall, feet sliding cautiously to avoid falling into a crevice. A shelf jutted out, offering some protection, and they paused there to get their bearing. Through the swirling dust, he spotted the outline of a skeletal tree on the ledge above. He followed the line of the trunk down to a crack in the rocks, where the knobby roots offered him a natural ladder.

The storm finally began to subside as he climbed. By the time he reached the top of the ledge, the wind had almost returned to normal and he could see the sun again, high enough now to make the dunes shimmer. The path was easier from here, with the rocks forming a natural staircase. He pulled off his veil, spitting out sand, shook more out of his clothes and hair. Behind him Koume was doing the same, grumbling the whole time that she was too old for this.

Halfway up they found Kotake waiting for them. He handed her the leever parts. "For your potions."

"Ohoho! Thank you!" She clapped her hands. "I've been working on a little something I think you'll like."

"I look forward to it."

He swept past her, leading the way to the summit. At first glance there was nothing unusual about the figure who stood waiting for them, aside from that outlandish red robe, but the wind, no matter how strong, never stirred his clothes, and his form cast no shadow.

The wizard genuflected as Ganondorf approached. He didn't believe for a second that the man was a prophet. He probably had an informant in the Hylian royal court—everyone in that place had their price—which left only the question of his motives. Fear, greed, or revenge? For a ghost, the latter seemed most likely. Maybe he was resolving a grudge so he could move on to the next life. Then again, maybe he worked for the Hylians after all.

Whatever game he thought he was playing, Ganondorf would take without giving and use without needing until he was no longer useful, and it served him right if he thought he could outwit the king of thieves. (They were the ones who called him that. Let them, for now, as long as they got used to calling him king.)

"Your advice was not without merit," he said, after letting him grovel for a minute.

"Pleased to have been of service, Your Majesty." The wizard dipped his head again in a caricature of humility.

"But I cannot be pleased with the result. Not only did we fail to acquire the Sapphire, but one of my own people has been taken hostage. This, however, I do not blame on you." He turned sharply, glaring at Koume and Kotake. They flinched and huddled together, clutching at each other's sleeves.

"Yo-you did agree to the plan!" Kotake quavered, raising one hand defensively.

"You promised nothing would happen to her!" he snarled. He could see the wizard's reflection in the jewel on her forehead. The eager gleam in his eyes was unmistakable. As I thought.

"She hasn't been hurt!" Koume said hastily. "Our man in the castle assured us of that."

"You're taking his word for it?"

"Psh. He's not brave enough, or stupid enough, to lie to us."

"Heh heh. He knows what happened to the fellow we had before him," Kotake agreed.

"Everything is under control now. Nabooru will bring her home."

"No. I can no longer trust you to handle this, and I most certainly do not trust Nabooru." He took a deep breath. "I am the king. My people's safety is my responsibility."

"Indeed. You are the hope of the Gerudo." The wizard spoke calmly enough, but there were anxious lines bunching at the corners of his eyes. "If anything should happen to you… it would be a disaster. For all your people."

He glowered. "Retrieving Parapa is a matter of pride."

"If I may be so bold—"

"You may not," Ganondorf cut him off.

The wizard forced a smile.

"Please, Sire. Give us one more chance," Kotake urged. "Let me show you my little surprise… perhaps we won't have to depend on Nabooru after all."

He lifted one eyebrow. "What exactly have you been working on?"

"A backup plan. One way or another, we'll have her home within the fortnight."

"You have five days."

Koume and Kotake bowed, sensing that he would hear no more discussion on the subject.

"In the meantime…" He turned back to the wizard. "That kid has proven to be more trouble than I thought. Tell me what you've seen of his future."

"That boy will be a thorn in your side. He knows too much, and somehow he has the king of Hyrule's ear."

"I could figure that out on my own. How did he know not to open the Door of Time? What are he and the princess planning now?"

"My visions only warned me that you would be in danger. Beyond that, I cannot say."

"How unhelpful."

The wizard offered an apologetic look. "Alas, it is not mine to decide when these things are revealed to me. But the God does not trifle needlessly with the affairs of mortals. As surely as you live, my king, He has great things in store for you."

"As surely as you're dead, I will not be a pawn. But by all means, continue your attempts at flattery. I do rather enjoy it."

The wizard chuckled. "Dead? I am merely… corporeally inconvenienced at the moment."

"Hmph. Call it what you will."

Ganondorf strode to the edge of the cliff and folded his hands behind his back, looking out over the vast desert. Horizon to horizon, his to protect, or avenge. And he would, because unlike the gods, he felt his people's suffering.

He glanced back at the wizard. The other man hurried to his side.

"I have plans of my own," he said. "Regardless of what happens with Parapa, I have no intention of hiding in a cave forever. If anything, now is the time to be bold. Knowing the future ought to give me an edge."

The wizard lowered his head, waiting.

"You will be my adviser," Ganondorf decided. "And when I've conquered Hyrule, if you have proven wise and loyal, you will be rewarded. For now… accept this." He stretched out his hands. A ring of shimmering green light encircled the wizard's feet. Wisps of pale smoke rose up, wrapping around him like a cocoon. The air thrummed with magic power; the whole mesa shuddered. After a few seconds the smoke cleared, and the wizard let out a deep sigh of satisfaction as he flexed his limbs, solid flesh and bone now. A lavish gift, and a leash.

"You have served your king well, Agahnim."

Nabooru got up when the sun was peeking over the horizon. She wrote a long letter to Beiru, made sure Riza and Liana were staying out of trouble, then took her bow and went down to the barracks yard. A group of soldiers—from the look of them, probably two-year recruits from the provinces—were drilling by the gate. They didn't notice her, or if they did, their passing curiosity wasn't enough to risk running laps.

She found an old barrel and worked on her form for a while. Taking a stance, she closed her eyes, conscious of her body and breath, and let the arrow fly, targetless but not aimless. The routine motions gave her mind a much-needed anchor. Her fears circled like snarling coyotes, but she pushed back, reminding herself to live in the present, do what she could.

Afterward, she found a little hill out front of the castle where it was quiet. Crickets hummed in the warm, still air. It seemed like a good place to relax.

Except there was a creepy one-eyed rock watching her.

During the war, Sheikah agents had used those things to spy on people. Were they still listening now? Probably. She tried to move out of its line of sight, but its gaze seemed to follow her everywhere. At last she walked up to it, crouched down and poked it in the forehead. It felt like ordinary stone. The more she stared at it, though, the more the hollow of the pupil seemed to draw her in…

"Looking for something?"

Nabooru jumped. Impa was standing behind the gossip stone. There was no way she could have been there the entire time.

"I was just curious about it."

"These stand for our three guiding principles." Impa pointed to the triangles that formed the eye's lashes. "Remember truth, witness truth, speak truth."

"Hmm." Nabooru pursed her lips. "You always speak the truth?"

"We don't tell lies."

"That's not quite the same thing, is it?"

A thin smile. "No."

You all spoke quite a bit of truth to the old king, before you decided to trade him in for his nephew, Nabooru thought with a slight glare at the statue, but that was better left unsaid.

"They have other uses too."

Curiosity got the better of her. "Like what?"

Impa flicked her wrist, producing a knife, and struck the gossip stone's forehead. For a split second, it wobbled like jelly. A reedy, slightly garbled voice came from she wasn't quite sure where, informing them, "The time is 8:55."

"Huh," said Nabooru. "Unsettling, but helpful."

Impa twirled the knife, then made it disappear again. "You should see what happens when you hit one with a bomb. But not here. We'd probably break a window." Nabooru puzzled over that for a second, but forgot everything else when Impa said, "You may see Parapa now, if you're ready."

Finally. "Lead the way."

Impa knew every shortcut in the castle, of course. She took them through a side door Nabooru wouldn't have noticed, down a winding staircase into a huge, drafty chamber where an underground waterfall thundered into the main cistern. They crossed on a narrow stone bridge.

"It's slick. Watch your step," Impa shouted.

Nabooru was relieved when they reached the other side. They entered a maze of narrow, torch-lit corridors lined with heavy iron doors. Impa never hesitated at a turn, and Nabooru had to take long strides to keep up. She made a few attempts at conversation, met with cordial but brief replies. Finally she gave up on it. To be honest, she preferred it that way.

Impa came to a sudden halt in front of a door that looked just like all the others. "By the way," she said, and it was never just by the way when people used that tone. "I'd advise you to be wary of any ideas Minister Chirila tries to put into your head about the Zora."

"I don't let other people put ideas in my head as a rule."

That faint half-smile was growing on her. "That's what I thought."

They emerged into daylight across from the tower. The knight guarding the door stepped aside with a wary glance at Nabooru. Impa unlocked it and turned to look at her. "By the way."

Nabooru raised a questioning eyebrow when she trailed off.

She seemed to change her mind. "Princess Zelda will receive you in her private courtyard. Can you find it, or should I have someone escort you?"

"I'll manage." She paused on the first stair. "You're the only one who's tried to do right by us. Not saying I owe you anything, but… I'll remember this."

For the first time, Impa seemed agitated. Uncertain. "I should tell you," she began, but stalled again.

"What?"

"Forget it," she whispered, and closed the door.

It took her eyes a moment to adjust to the dim light of the tower room. At first she could only see Parapa's shadow framed by the single tiny window.

"Hey you," she whispered.

Parapa gasped and turned, wide-eyed. Nabooru ran to her and the taller woman tumbled into her arms, shaking from head to foot.

"Nab, you're here… oh, thank heaven!"

Nabooru clung to her, swaying lightly. "You're going to be all right. I promise."

After a long while Parapa straightened and took a deep breath, trying to calm herself. "I'm so scared! How did this happen? They're talking about—" She gulped, pressing a hand to her throat. "Talking about executing me. These damn barbarians hang people. I don't want to die like that…" She broke off, shuddering, and buried her face in her friend's shoulder again. Nabooru stroked her hair, tried to come up with words of comfort even as a fresh wave of doubt washed over her.

Parapa muttered a curse and dashed away her tears. "I'm sorry. I tried to be brave in front of them, but I was alone and didn't know what was going to happen and… I think I said too much."

"You've been through a lot. Don't apologize." Nabooru led her to the narrow straw cot in the corner and they sat down. "Did they hurt you?"

"They didn't beat me, if that's what you mean." Parapa closed her eyes, took another long, slow breath. "A dungeon full of rats isn't exactly comfortable to begin with. At first they had me on stale bread and water. I couldn't sleep much. One night they put me in some kind of cellar. It was pitch-black and damp, and my back ached because it wasn't quite big enough to lie down. I know that's mild compared to what they did to people during the war, but…"

"It's unacceptable. They treat their pigs better," Nabooru snapped. She would have a word with Zelda when she saw her.

"They must have been trying to wear me down. The next morning, the princess's favorite guard came in and asked me a lot of questions."

Her face fell. "You mean Impa?"

"Yes, that's her name. She's the one who arrested me and brought me here."

It shouldn't be a surprise. A faithful servant of the crown, one who had built her career on subterfuge, was just as two-faced as everyone else in this castle. Why would that shock anyone? Yet Nabooru felt like she'd been punched in the gut. She cursed herself for being so gullible. "What did she want to know?"

"Mostly about Zora's Sapphire. What I knew about it, what King Ganondorf was planning to do with it, more importantly where and when I'd seen him last."

"Did she hurt you?" Nabooru asked in a low voice, dreading the answer.

"No. She tried to act like my friend, said she and the princess wanted to help me, but I had to tell them everything."

"Sounds like her style," Nabooru muttered.

"Of course I didn't fall for that, so then she tried guilt. She told me all kinds of awful lies about the king, and said I was being willfully ignorant. Then she got out the truth-stones."

Nabooru recoiled in disgust. "They're still using that kind of forbidden magic?"

"Are you surprised? I kept quiet—those things do lower your inhibitions a little, but they can't make you talk. She explained exactly what was going to happen to me if I wouldn't cooperate." A look of shame crossed her face. "I just wanted her to go away… I told her she wouldn't get anything from me, that we hadn't seen each other last summer and we barely spoke then, and my orders came by guay so I couldn't tell her where he was if I wanted to. I didn't think that would help them at all, but they must have liked something I said, because they finally gave me some real food, and then yesterday they moved me up here."

Nabooru was quiet for a minute, wracking her brain. "We need to come up with some way to prove you weren't after their damn magic triangle that doesn't really exist."

"Nothing will change their minds. They want him, and they mean to use me to get to him, one way or another. But I won't play their game. I'll die first." Parapa squeezed her eyes shut. When she opened them again, they were full of intensity. "Nab, listen. If he tries to come for me you have to stop him. The Wise Ones told me—"

"Forget him. I don't want to talk about him." As if he'd risk his neck for someone else.

"But this is all about him. You know that. I'm just the bait."

And she was right, because they knew the Triforce wasn't real. This was all a show, just as she'd feared. There could be no appeals to compassion or justice; their myths, laws, and courts, even their king were all just gears in a massive ugly grinding machine that only knew how to destroy.

"We'll find a way," she insisted, speaking over her own despairing thoughts. "Did he tell you it was supposed to be one of the keys to their Sacred Realm?"

"No. From what I understand even the Zora didn't know that, until now."

"But somehow he found out," Nabooru muttered.

Parapa looked out the window. "When we were younger… he used to talk about a 'Golden Power' that could grant wishes for whoever touched it. He loved that kind of thing—dusty books, ancient legends, lost artifacts. But I never took him seriously." For a moment she looked wistful. "He's always been something of a dreamer, you know."

"I guess you could say that."

"Well. A few months ago I was out at Tahakov Canyon when I received a lockbox. Encrypted with my key charm, a letter bearing his seal inside. I was surprised. Happy, at first, that he still trusted me that much. But the orders were so strange… Do you think he's really searching for the Triforce?" Parapa whispered.

"Don't know, don't want to know. I've been trying to cover for him, but the best thing you can do right now is distance yourself. I know it goes against your sense of honor," she said when Parapa's face turned stubborn, "but like you said, they've made up their minds about him, and that won't change whether you live or die. Let him chase his fables. If he cared so much about you he'd be here right now."

"That's not fair."

"What's not fair is him purposely sending you into danger he wouldn't face himself."

"He is the king. It's my job—"

"What's not fair is them making you the scapegoat for an imaginary crime," she said, louder. For one burning instant she loathed all of them, the kings and Impa and that self-righteous chancellor, and yes, the princess too, because it had been her plan, it was her fault Parapa was here. "You always care so much about what's fair and right for everybody else! I wish you'd be selfish, for once!"

Parapa stared unseeing at the wall, looking as if she were already marching to the gallows. "The Sisters of the Dusk exist for this reason. There are always risks." Her voice broke. "I knew that going in."

Nabooru pulled her into another hug. "No, no. Don't you give up yet."

"I'm not. But… I don't know what we're going to do."

They were quiet for a little while.

"You still have that lockbox?"

"No. I left it in my cache at the canyon."

"Wait… wait." She sat bolt upright, struck by an epiphany. "Tahakov Canyon, you said? A few months ago?"

"Yes."

"That's it!" She clasped Parapa's hands, eyes bright with renewed hope. "That's how we prove you innocent."

There was no pleasant breeze in the courtyard today. Link wiped his sweaty face on his sleeve and tried to keep a bit of distance between himself and the princess. Impa had met him at the front gate and escorted him in, robbing him of his usual dip in the moat.

"Then she jumped right out the window and went surfing down the roof! It was amazing," Zelda gushed. "But she acted like it was nothing. Did you know she became head of the fortress when she was sixteen?"

"Really? I hadn't heard that." In truth, there was a lot he didn't know about the sages.

Zelda bit her lip. "I'll be sixteen in four years."

"Yeah," he said, wondering what Sheik had been like at sixteen. A hardened warrior? Still a lost princess? Something between? "I mean, that's a ways off."

"She told me to start acting like a queen. I'm not really sure what she meant. Link…" She gave him one of those long, searching gazes, halfway between awe and worry. "How did you manage it? Waking up as an adult, suddenly having all that on your shoulders."

He scuffed his toes in the grass. "I don't know. Just kept moving, I guess."

For a minute she was lost in thought. "I'm sorry you've been dragged into this again. You were chosen by destiny, but… I think we're on a different path now." She looked at him with eyes like bottomless blue pools. "What I mean to say is, you've already saved Hyrule. I can hardly ask any more of you. If you don't want to—"

"I'll fight for you," he interrupted, because he couldn't bear to hear her say that, after everything. "In the past or the future. Always."

Peace has returned to Hyrule… it is time for us to say goodbye. He brushed the memory aside.

"You'll always be our hero," said Zelda, "but I hope you won't have to fight this time."

"Don't worry. I'm good at it."

"You're good at lots of things."

"I used to be good at playing the ocarina." There it was again, the ugly feeling he couldn't quite name.

"You have one, don't you? The one your friend gave you?"

He remembered again that he did have Saria's ocarina, because in this life it hadn't shattered when Ganondorf knocked him down with a blast of evil magic that day outside the town gate. It had been too long since he talked to her, even though he thought about her every day. He took it out of his bag, lightly brushed his thumb over the pebble-smooth surface.

"I would love to hear you play some time," said Zelda.

"I'm out of practice, though."

"That's all right. I let you watch me fumble around at water magic."

He glanced sideways at her. "If I remember, you complained it should be easy."

The princess stuck her tongue out at him.

From a tower high above, the bells rang two o'clock. She frowned, glancing toward the archway. "Impa said she'd be right back."

"Do you think something's wrong?" he whispered, reaching for his sword out of habit.

"Probably not."

They waited a few more minutes. The guard Impa had left in charge of them rolled his shoulders and tried not to yawn. Zelda bounced on her toes, caught herself and stopped. She got very quiet, and Link could tell she was hatching a plan.

"It's not like her to be tardy." She lowered her voice. "Let's go find them."

Before he could react, she flicked her hand toward the guard, and a gust of wind plucked his helmet off his head. He lunged after it, but he stumbled and it splashed into the moat. In the two seconds he spent fishing it out, Zelda grabbed Link by the wrist and bolted into the garden.

They darted through a hedge. She found a spot to hide behind a couple of large crates that were stacked beside a turret projecting out from the great hall.

"You've been practicing," he said when he caught his breath.

"Mmhm."

The guard ran by, cursing. Link felt a little bad for him—he would get in trouble for sure—but no, he was supposed to be looking out for the princess's safety and he'd been careless. They needed to step it up around here.

"Are you sure this is a good idea?" he asked, helping her slide the crates so they could climb up to a bay window on the second floor.

"Yes. Probably."

Nabooru's heart was racing as she descended the tower stairs. If her plan worked, they would have indisputable proof that Parapa hadn't been part of any extortion plot. She wasn't thrilled about making Ganondorf look like a martyr, but it was worth it to save her friend's life.

On her way out the door, she almost ran over Minister Chirila.

"Ah, Lady Nabooru. Just who I've been looking for."

"Minister. Excuse me, but I'm in a hurry to meet someone." She wanted to hear what Zelda's friend had to say, even if she would never trust any of them again.

"I won't be but a moment," Chirila insisted. "After reflecting on some of the things you said this morning, I've come to realize that perhaps my opinion of King Ganondorf was rooted in prejudice. We have indeed presumed him guilty on rather flimsy evidence."

"I'm glad you're keeping an open mind. You just wanted to tell me that?"

"I had hoped to speak with you a bit more about a certain matter my colleagues seem reluctant to discuss."

Nabooru took a step closer, forcing him to look up at her, and planted her hands on her hips. "If this is about the River Zora…" Impa had warned her not to listen to him. On second thought, Impa had warned her not to listen to him. "Actually, yes. What can you tell me about them?"

She didn't like the eager sparkle in his eyes. "During the war, King Arkenhalm placed some harsh demands on the Zora. He needed their help building bridges, canals… tunnels, and the like. They started to resent him soon enough. Some decided to break bridges instead."

"Sounds like a few of them never got out of that habit."

Chirila's smile was rigid. "Yes. Eventually they convinced their countrymen to join the rebellion. Most chose the obvious path of supporting Arkenhalm's rival. Others, however, asked why they were replacing one overlord with another. They called themselves the Free River Folk, or just River Zora."

"I'm not sure what this has to do with me."

"Bear with me; I am getting to that. The River Zora only cooperate with Hyrule for now because their king wishes it. Their long-term goal is to persuade him to seek independence."

"So if, for example, someone threatened Lord Jabu-Jabu and the Hylians couldn't protect them…"

"Precisely. Now, that Seggin boy was raised in their ideology. An 'impressionable kid,' you might say. When you pointed out how we were relying entirely on his word, it opened my eyes to a far more sinister possibility. What if… he never delivered the message at all? What if his purpose was not to deliver it, but to make His Grace believe he had?"

"Interesting," Nabooru said slowly, "but it doesn't change the fact that your people plotted against our king."

"Ah yes, but where did that plot originate?"

Her brow furrowed. "Princess Zelda?"

She had very little goodwill to spare for Her Highness right now, but even so, this was a grown man in a position of considerable power laying the blame for an international crisis on an over-imaginative twelve year old. Then again, Zelda was a clever young woman. Very convinced of her own righteousness. Her disdain for Ganondorf was no secret. But could she really be that devious? She would have to have been planning this for months or even years.

She does what she believes is right. Her plan was far more subtle than the one proposed by her father's generals.

Chirila drew a sharp breath. "Forgive me. I have kept you far too long. Good day!" He departed with a hasty bow.

Shaking her head, Nabooru started toward the guest quarters. Her mind was full to the brim, and she really didn't know what she was going to do when she saw…

Impa. There she was, waiting at the far end of the yard.

Link climbed up ahead of Zelda, glancing around the crate to make sure none of the other guards had spotted them. As usual, they trudged along their patrol routes, never looking anywhere but straight ahead. He pushed the window open and gave her the all clear.

He turned to offer her a hand as they climbed over, but she hopped down nimbly like she'd been doing it all her life. They were in a carpeted hallway, some distance from the main corridor. Zelda took the lead, and they tiptoed along the wall. Her face was flushed with the thrill of adventure.

"Where are we going?" he asked, belatedly.

She peeked around a corner with one eye, pulled back hastily and shoved him behind a curtain. They waited, breathless, as Chancellor Potho walked by.

"Lady Nabooru was at the tower visiting Parapa," Zelda whispered when the thud of his staff had faded. "I wonder if they ran into some trouble. Not everyone was happy about us moving her out of the dungeon."

She looked out again and waved for him to follow. They hurried across the hall into a parlor, where ornately carved tables and blue velvet sofas were arranged around a gilded harpsichord. The whole room smelled like roses. Not quite as nice as springtime in the forest, but pleasant. It seemed like a dead end, though, no windows and no other doors.

"Is… Parapa really going to go free?" he asked, as Zelda led him over to a large stone fireplace.

"Impa and I think we can make a good case for her."

He nodded, tight-lipped. Even though she'd explained to him why it was their best option, he was never going to be happy about it.

"Link, I know this is hard." Zelda frowned, noting how he shied away from her. "Are you still angry with me?"

"What? I wasn't ever—it's not that." Link scratched his neck.

"What's wrong, then?"

"Impa said I stink."

"Really? She's so blunt," Zelda sighed. She leaned in closer than was strictly appropriate and took a cautious sniff. "Oh. You do."

He surprised himself by laughing. Impa's blunt?

"You think it's funny, do you? Presenting yourself to your future queen smelling like a barnyard animal?"

"You say that like it's a bad thing."

She snickered and pushed aside the fire-screen. What was she doing?

The future queen hoisted herself into the chimney. He blinked a couple of times, then shrugged and followed. The inside was lined with uneven stones, which made for easy climbing. He made it to the top first, turned and waved at her.

"Show-off," Zelda pouted. "I suppose it's not quite Death Mountain."

He shrugged. "Less monsters, but other than that it's pretty close."

They climbed out of the hearth on the next floor into a plain but comfortable bedroom, startling a plump, pretty woman in a servant's apron. When she realized who it was, she dipped a curtsy, rolling her eyes at the same time.

"Hello, Pearl!"

"Again, Your Highness?"

"Don't worry. This is the gown that's already stained."

A small wrinkle formed on Pearl's forehead. "How wise of you to plan ahead. Oh, you brought a friend this time!"

Link gave her what he hoped was an endearing smile. It hadn't occurred to him before that someone had to wash Zelda's clothes, since she probably wasn't allowed to go swimming in the moat.

Zelda hustled Link out the door, with a cheerful, "Goodbye! Please don't tell my father!" to Pearl. They went down a flight of stairs at the end of the hallway and into a small clerk's office with a writing-desk in one corner and a single large window. He could see the tower outside.

She rubbed her nose, leaving behind a smudge. "Almost there."

They climbed out the window and down a vine trellis, landing in a narrow, grassy corridor lined with spindly cedar trees. Along one wall, dozens of small fountains shaped like birds and fish spilled into a shallow basin.

"We made it through Death Mountain, now on to Zora's Domain!"

She balanced on the rim of the basin, running her fingers through the streams of water. He followed at a slower pace, taking it all in.

"I can't believe you actually went inside Lord Jabu-Jabu."

"Princess Ruto says she does it all the time."

She made a face. "Why?"

"I don't know. It was gross."

Zelda stopped, pointing through a gap in the hedge. "There she is."

He looked and saw Impa standing by the armory, gazing intently across the yard. From this angle he couldn't tell what she was looking at.

"Link," Zelda murmured. Her playfulness had faded. "If there were no more fighting, or prophecies, or saving the world… I would like to think you and I could still be friends."

He was glad—or he should be glad—but all of a sudden it felt like his insides were crumbling and he didn't know what to say, so he just gave her the brightest smile he could muster. The garden was quiet other than the faint music of the fountains. For a short while time seemed to stop.

"Let's go," said Zelda. He followed.

Maybe destiny was finished with him. Maybe now he was just a boy without a fairy again. But he couldn't walk away just yet. He wasn't ready to say goodbye.

Nabooru's first irrational impulse was to run away. Annoyed with herself, she squared her shoulders and marched right up to Impa. Crossed her arms and waited.

When Impa saw that she was not going to say anything, she took a deep breath and went straight to the point. "You should know the whole truth. I was… not entirely forthcoming about my role in Parapa's case."

"I'll say."

"She told you, then."

"Yeah," Nabooru said acidly.

"I did not mean to conceal it from you this long."

"Hmm. Exactly how long did you mean to conceal it from me?"

Impa looked uncomfortable. Well, she should be. "I was going to tell you after the meeting. There was never a good time."

"Not before, of course, or else I might not have cooperated."

"Yes," she admitted.

"I'm sure you had your reasons," said Nabooru when she saw none were going to be offered. She was ready to let the conversation die there.

"As a leader, I think you can understand. I act in the best interests of our people, even if it sometimes troubles my conscience."

Your people aren't here, thought Nabooru. They all exiled themselves out of shame for following orders.

"Do you think the tyrant you work for ever had your best interests in mind?"

"I could ask you the same thing," Impa shot back.

Sh started, eyes widening, as she caught sight of someone behind Nabooru. The princess emerged from a garden behind the armory, with a golden-haired boy about her age in tow.

"Zelda. I thought you were waiting in the courtyard."

"We were starting to worry about you," said Zelda, batting her eyes in the way pretty girls sometimes did to get out of trouble. The hem of her dress was damp, and she had what looked like ash on her face.

"It's my job to worry about you, not the other way around. Come here." Impa licked her thumb and wiped the gray smudge off Zelda's nose.

Nabooru dusted her hands. "Well, since we're all here…"

Nabooru sized the boy up. He was short for his age, unassuming at a glance, but there was a certain glint in his eyes, and the sword on his back looked at home there.

Aha. So this is Ryma's little green devil.