Nabooru paced nervously, back and forth along the expanse of the plateau, her long, plum cloak swirling around her feet as she turned. It was dark out, all except for the orange glow emanating from a nearby crater which led to a lava flow. She rather resented being kept waiting in general, but it was even worse in the dark. Normally, she would not have obeyed such an abrupt summons, calling for her to appear alone, without her armed escort, in the dead of night, but for once she was forced to comply. It wasn’t that she was meeting with someone more important or powerful than she, no it was her own conscience that forced her to come to this wretched plane in the middle of the night.

The day had been one of the worst she could remember in the history of the Gerudo. All day long, reports came in of men and women from the Hylian villages calling out for the death of all Gerudo everywhere. A few of the bolder individuals went so far as to approach the Gerudo Valley, armed with rudimentary weapons, pitch forks, and torches, ready to take on the entire Gerudo nation alone. Nabooru admired such gall, but at the same time, she resented the accusations against her people. After all, it had not been the Dragon Pride, her Pride, which had committed the atrocities in Kasuto.

Yes, the day had been filled with reports about that too. Nabooru was told of the ashes where once a proud village stood, of the mountain piles of the dead, their faces burned and scarred beyond recognition. Immediately, she knew of course that this had to be the work of the Kodiak Pride. If any Gerudo Pride had the nerve to attack a village of mere farmers, it would be the Kodiak. For years, rumors had flown carelessly that a boy had been born into their ranks. Now it seemed the stories were true. No less than a dozen survivors of Kasuto had reported the presence of a man amidst the Gerudo raiding party.

Nabooru shivered involuntarily, despite the heat coming from the crater. She did not like to think of what this meant for the future of the Gerudo Valley. For years, the Prides had been able to coexist in an uneasy peace, but having a man in their ranks would change things. Men brought with them ambition and greed. Nabooru did not particularly fancy the idea of another Gerudo civil war. Not after everything her people had managed to survive.

Off in the distance, below Nabooru’s plateau, she spotted a horse making a fast approach for her. For a moment, she felt her hands drift to the twin blades resting on either side of her hips, but she quickly decided against it. There had already been enough trouble between the inhabitants of the Gerudo Valley and the villagers of Hyrule. She would not be the one to cause more. She was pleased to see, at the very least, that the figure on horseback seemed to be traveling alone. Then again, the Sheikah had always been known to keep their promises.

Relaxing slightly, Nabooru allowed herself to wonder why Impa, the royal nursemaid and one of the most powerful Sheikah in the realm had summoned her of all people. Of course, Impa must have known that Nabooru’s Pride was not responsible for the attack. The Dragons were many things, great thieves, powerful seductresses, and yes, fantastic archers, but they certainly were not arsonists, nor did they have any interest in the destruction of Kasuto.

Nabooru felt a knot form in her stomach as she thought of the mindless violence again. It wasn’t that she had any love for the Hylians, but life was life and she couldn’t fathom ever ordering her warriors to fight unprovoked. Then again, she supposed wearily, if the rumors were true and the Kodiak had a man in their ranks, war might be inevitable. Still, she would not make the first move. She would wait.

By now, the horse was climbing steadily up the slope of the plateau, its powerful legs propelling it forward and muscles clenched and unclenched. Nabooru admired the beast a moment before turning to regard the rider. There was Impa, the proud warrior Nabooru had come to respect many years ago when the two of them first met. Back then, Nabooru had been far more ambitious, organizing a heist on the castle treasury itself. This had been the only time Nabooru had ever been caught, and it was by the great Sheikah warrior. Their battle had been fierce, finally ending only when Nabooru’s girls came to her rescue. She so admired Impa for holding her own, she had allowed the woman to be spared and left the castle without incident.

Over the years, Nabooru had heard great things about her favored opponent, but she had been shocked to receive a letter from her that morning, requesting a solitary meeting in between their respective territories. Even after all that time since their encounter, Nabooru was still impressed by Impa’s stature and poise.

Riding in front of her, hugging the neck of the mare, was a Hylian girl, no more than three. She stared at the Gerudo matron as the horse approached, her blue eyes wide in apprehension. This was an unexpected detail. Nabooru found herself amazed, as she examined the frail girl, that Hylian women were capable of surviving the hazards of life. Certainly a Gerudo would never be so fair and so brittle.

The horse came to a stop with an impressive little bow, snorting at Nabooru as it flung its snout to one side. Impa dismounted easily, then turned, taking the girl by the waist and lowering her to the ground. She trembled horribly, hiding behind Impa’s legs. Impa stood there, patting her horse’s rump and making it perfectly clear that Nabooru was to approach. So be it.

“I have done as you asked,” Nabooru said, strolling over. As an afterthought, she drew her twin blades, crossing them in front of her as a salutation.

“You came alone?” Impa asked, eyeing the blades warily.

“Yes.”

“Good.”

She waited a moment before returning the swords to her belt. “What’s this all about?”

Impa continued absently stroking the horse, but her full gaze was turned on Nabooru now. “I trust you’ve heard about the raid on Kasuto?”

“I have,” Nabooru replied icily. “And I’ll have you know that the Dragon Pride had absolutely –”

“Nothing to do with it?” Impa interrupted. A tense moment of silence followed. “I know.”

“So what’s this about then?”

“Do you know why the Kodiak Pride burned Kasuto to the ground?”

Nabooru shook her head. “The Dragon relations with the Kodiak are tenuous at best. Alpha Sarjenka has –”

“Stepped down,” Impa cut her off.

She couldn’t help it. Nabooru’s eyes widened like those of the little girl hiding behind Impa. “What?”

“The Kodiak have a male Alpha now. He’s called Ganondorf Dragmire. He led the raid last night.”

“So it’s true. They have a man born into their number.”

Impa nodded gravely. “And last night’s attack was not for treasure or slaves. It was mere destruction.”

“Why would they do that?” Nabooru asked.

“They were after a child,” Impa said.

“A child?” Nabooru’s eyes drifted to the little girl. “This one?”

“No,” Impa said quickly.

“Who?”

“Her younger brother, we suspect.”

“Why? What’s so special about him?”

The Sheikah woman sighed. “We don’t really know. If I had to guess, I suppose I’d guess some sort of cryptic prophecy drove them to destroy the children of the town.”

“Prophecy?”

Impa shrugged. “They’re your people.”

Nabooru shook her head. “They are not my people. The Kodiak are a race unto themselves, whether they call themselves Gerudo or not. They have no honor.”

“I will certainly agree with that. They killed the girl’s mother.”

“I see,” Nabooru said. She had to admit, she admired the fact that Impa wasn’t coddling the child. “And her brother?”

“He’s safe,” Impa replied. “My sources inform me that he’s with the Kokiri. I’m content to let him stay there for now. If there is a prophecy, it’s best if he’s left to his own devices to fulfill it.”

“And the girl?”

“I’ve brought her to you with a request.”

Nabooru’s eyebrows rose sharply. “What?”

“She needs to be kept safe. Secreted away so she’s not a liability to him.”

“What does that have to do with me?” Nabooru asked.

“The Gerudo destroyed her home. Killed her mother. Presumably killed her brother as far as we’re concerned. It would be the last place anyone would think to check for her.”

“True,” Nabooru admitted slowly.

“And,” Impa said, “it would certainly separate you from the Kodiak if you had it in your heart to take care of this girl.”

A fierce smile tugged at the corners of Nabooru’s lips. Her admiration for Impa only grew at this sly wordplay. She knew only too well that Nabooru wanted to disassociate herself from the carnage of the Kodiak. “I’m friendly with the Alpha of the Orca Pride,” Nabooru said. “They live in isolation, more so than any other Pride. I’m sure I could arrange for the girl to be delivered to them.”

“Why the Orca? Why not the Dragon Pride?”

“I fear civil war may be at hand for the Gerudo. If so, the Orca Pride will be the last to get involved. They live on undesirable territory and they’re on friendlier terms with the Kodiak than the other Prides.”

Impa seemed to find this acceptable. “Fair enough.”

Nabooru knelt down, coming to eye level with the girl. “Hello,” she said. The girl hid behind Impa as far as possible. Nabooru laughed. “Come now. If you’re going to be a great Gerudo warrior, we can’t have you hiding. Come forward and face me.”

The girl looked up at Impa for guidance. “Go on,” Impa told her gently, stepping away.

Left with no choice, the little girl moved toward Nabooru, her lower lip trembling though she did not cry. “That’s better,” Nabooru said gently. “Let me see your arm. Can you make a muscle for me?” Feebly, the girl flexed her arm. Nabooru reached out and squeezed her bicep gently. “Yes, you’ll make a fine warrior.” She was about to withdraw when she noticed something: An intricate array of blue lines on the girl’s wrist. Nabooru brushed her thumb against the lines and felt nothing but flesh. Whatever the lines were, they were tattooed underneath the skin. “What’s this?” she asked.

Impa knelt down, taking the girl’s arm and carefully examining the strange lines. “Looks like half of a Hylian glyph,” she mumbled. She looked at the girl. “Can you tell me what this is?”

“M-my momma put them on me and my b-brother,” she said in a faint, girlish voice.

“Why did she do that?” Nabooru asked.

“So we c-could find each other again,” the child whispered.



It was a bright and sunny day. Glorious really; warm, but with a gentle breeze that kept the village from completely baking. Link leaned against the fence post outside of the Lon Lon Ranch, lifting his face to greet the morning sun. The wind kissed his cheeks and smiled. Days like this always reminded him of how much he loved Hyrule. With his eyes closed, he listened to the peaceful sound of the world that he himself had saved not too long ago. In the field beyond the ranch, he could hear school children playing, laughing and shrieking as they chased after a leather ball, throwing it back and forth.

Perhaps it was trite, and he would certainly never share this with another living soul, lest he be laughed out the door, but sounds like that always made Link feel as if he had really accomplished something with his life. His whole ordeal with Ganondorf had left a bitter taste in his mouth that Link had never quite been able to shake. No one knew about the nightmares that haunted him still, though nearly a year had passed since that final, epic battle. Most of the time, when people asked him to recount the events as they had happened, he would feign a certain measure of memory loss, owing it to the adrenaline of the moment. The reality, however, was that he remembered everything perfectly and rather wished he could forget. After all, he had killed. And nearly been killed himself.

He opened his eyes, hoping to evade the phantom shadows that loomed on the back of his eyelids, and looked to the corn fields arrayed before him. The stalks were high, bright green – his favorite color – with little hidden specks of yellow just beginning to appear. His mouth watered as he imagined sinking his teeth into the tender kernels, dripping with butter and just a hint of salt. Suddenly, he found himself hoping that Talon would invite him to stay for dinner tonight. Thoughts of his heroic escapades soon faded with hunger at the thought of a home cooked meal at the ranch.

Although he visited the ranch often enough, usually to idle away the time with Malon and the horses, this was the first time he had ever been summoned. Perhaps that was too strong a word. He hadn’t been summoned the way that Zelda sometimes called him to court. But there had always been an unspoken rule that Link was always welcome at the ranch without invitation. That was why it had come as such a surprise when he received one.

He had been spending a pleasant afternoon fishing with a friend of his, a Human from one of the local schools, when suddenly Malon appeared, flustered and pink. Breathlessly, she told him that Talon wanted to see him as soon as possible and disappeared, teetering under the weight of the milk pails, balanced meticulously over her shoulders.

Link was quick to obey the summons, immediately concerned. When he arrived at the ranch, however, he found it completely deserted, the door locked. Maybe he hadn’t been expected to arrive so quickly. With a shrug, he resigned himself to lean against the fence post near the road and wait, enjoying the splendors of a perfect summer day in Hyrule.

Before long, Link spotted Talon ambling up the road. He was much relieved to see that his friend looked in no way injured or ill. At least that concern could be steadied. But now, his mind wondered at what could possibly be wrong. Frowning, he plopped his cap back on top of his head and pulled on his gauntlets, covering the ugly blue lines that had been tattooed under his skin long ago by a mother he never knew. Pushing away from the fence, he moved down the road to meet Talon.

Talon spotted him at once and raised his hand in salutation. “Link,” he called. His normally cheerful voice seemed a bit strained.

“Hello, Talon,” Link replied.

“How long have you been waiting there?”

Link shrugged. “Only a few minutes,” he lied.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t expect you so soon.”

“That’s all right.”

“Glad you could stop by.”

“Of course,” Link said.

Talon clapped him on the back with a pudgy hand. “Good, good.” He frowned, licking his lips. “Malon tells me you’ve been enjoying your retirement.”

“It’s nice not having to chase after monsters any more,” Link admitted. “Although I’m not sure what I’m going to do with myself come winter.”

“You don’t miss the excitement?”

Link shook his head. “No, not really.”

“Oh.”

He glanced sideways at Talon. The older man seemed a bit distracted, wringing his hands and watched them as if somehow his stubby fingers were about to perform the miraculous. “Talon?”

“Yes?”

“What’s wrong? What’s going on?”

Talon sighed. He leaned against the fence, running his palm along the rough wood. He had built that fence himself, Link knew. With his own two hands. He took such pride in it. No one had ever dared to climb over it to cause mischief in the dead of night. “You know,” he started slowly, “I had a brother named Elwood.”

Link scowled. “No, I didn’t know that.”

“He died a few months back. Pneumonia.”

“I’m so sorry,” Link said uncertainly.

“It happens, unfortunately,” Talon mumbled nervously.

“I suppose so.”

“He lived a full, long life. Older brother.”

“I see.” Link folded his arms. Where was this going?

“He had a boy, about your age.”

“Oh?”

“My nephew, Tyro.” Talon shook his head with a nervous laugh. “Impetuous boy. Always getting into trouble in town. A real ladies man, they say. Rather like yourself.”

“Well, I wouldn’t call myself –”

“He’s a good kid though. Also like you. Tyro’s smart. Sharp as a whip. Probably got that from his mother.”

“Right.”

A heavy moment of silence fell. “You know, I’m the only family he’s got now,” Talon said. “His parents are gone. He hasn’t got any brothers or sisters. Only me and Malon now.”

As Link examined Talon, he detected a hint of something new in the older man’s blue eyes. He looked afraid, and not in the way he did when Malon stayed out too late or when Ingo caused trouble. This was a real fear. Mortal? “Talon, what’s going on?” he asked gently.

“A few weeks back,” Talon said slowly, “Tyro disappeared.”

“Disappeared?”

Absently, Talon waved his hand. “He just…disappeared. Not literally, of course. Not like a teleportation.”

“He left and no one’s seen him?”

“It might be.”

“And you have no idea where he went?”

“Well, that’s the thing of it,” Talon replied.

“What?”

“Before he disappeared completely, there were some witnesses who saw him leaving town.”

“That means he left of his own free will, doesn’t it?” Link shrugged. “I’m sure he’s fine.”

“They say he was heading in the direction of the Gerudo Valley.”

Immediately, Link deflated. “Oh,” he said softly.

“I don’t know what insanity could have driven him to go there,” Talon muttered, looking out at the crops.

“Well, you said he liked girls…”

“He’s not that stupid,” Talon said, shaking his head.

“You’re really worried about him?”

“Someone has to be. I’m the only family he’s got left. He’s been like a son to me, Link. If something happened to him, I don’t know what I’d do. Only…”

“Only?” Link prompted him.

Talon sighed. “I can’t go after him. I’m old and slow and have crops to harvest and cows to care for.”

And suddenly, like a flash of lightning, Link understood exactly why Talon had called on him. “You want me to go after him?”

“Link, I…”

But Link knew it was true. It took all of his considerable strength not to scowl. The last thing he ever wanted to do was return to the Gerudo Valley. Even thinking about the Gerudo left him with a sour belly. They had caused so much heartache for him. Well, not all of them, but certainly a particularly nasty Gerudo warlord who kidnapped his friends and tortured them for seven years while he was unable to do anything about it. He looked forward to the rest of his life being positively Gerudo free. They would always be there, a constant reminder of the things he had done. They had been for the greater good, but they still haunted him.

He wanted desperately to say no, to tell Talon that he was worrying too much, but as he looked at Talon, he saw that fear again, the desperation. How could he refuse? “Talon,” he said gently, putting a hand on his shoulder.

“I know it’s a lot to ask,” Talon said. “You’ve done your share for Hyrule. You’ve rescued our people. And I know you deserve to spend the rest of your days in relative ease. You earned your retirement.”

“But you’re asking.”

Talon nodded. “I’m asking.”

Link couldn’t help but feel a swell of respect for Talon. “I’ll go,” he promised.

“You will?”

“It’s the least I can do for you. You’ve been so good to me. You and Malon. Treating me like one of your own.”

“Farore bless you for this, Link.” He squeezed Link’s hand with both of his. “Thank you.”

Link nodded, forcing a smile. Inside, his stomach was twisting and turning. He really didn’t fancy returning to the Valley. He only hoped that he’d still have a few friends to call on. There was no way he would be able to do this on his own. Hero that he was, there were certain demons he had never been able to slay, the ones nestled securely in his memory.



The breeze became a wind. The wind became a gale. The gale flew across Hyrule, knocking over dust bins and sails. It brushed the entire kingdom before finally swirling over the sands of the Gerudo Valley. The sands rose, forming a funnel that spun faster and faster, uncovering the floor hidden below. The building was gone now, destroyed by the Dragons, but the floor lingered on, covered with sand until the breeze revealed the rich, red tones of the marble to the nighttime sky.

As the sand of the funnel flew off into the darkness, light rose from the ruins as two sets of glyphs began to glow, the first bright yellow, the second icy blue. The stone rippled like as a haggard form rose from the depths of the yellow light. She stared, unblinking at the blue until a second form emerged, equally worn and sagging. Her sister stared at the desert around them, once hidden from view by dark red walls, engraved with their four hundred year history.

“Kotake?” she asked, the blue light slowly fading from her face to reveal the gray, puckered skin. “What’s happened? Where are the walls? The rest of the castle? Why are we like this?”

For a moment, Kotake was silent, Koume’s questions echoing in her ears. It was as if a haze had settled over her mind. The harder she concentrated, the more she was able to focus on a single thought. Revenge. “The boy,” she said slowly, feeling the singular thought pulse in her brain.

“The boy?” Koume repeated, clearly just as confused.

“What do you remember?” Kotake asked quickly.

“I remember…” she paused, her mouth hanging open.

“There was a battle,” Kotake said.

“Yes! Yes, a battle, I remember.”

“The boy was trying to…”

“To stop Ganondorf,” Koume supplied.

“Yes.”

“We fought him.”

Kotake nodded. “He was braver than we expected.”

“And then…?”

“And then.”

Koume scowled. “We died?”

At once, Kotake knew this was true and nodded slightly, unable to suppress a shiver. “He defeated us.”

“Does that mean…” Koume trailed off. “Oh sister, does that mean he’s defeated Ganondorf?”

Instead of answering, Kotake turned, looking away into the distance where she knew Hyrule stood. Even this far away, her superior eyes could make out the faint silhouette of North Castle. “I fear it is so,” she said.

They were silent for a moment, feeling the heaviness of this loss. “But,” Koume blurted out abruptly, startling her sister.

“What?” Kotake snapped.

“If he’s dead, how come we’re here?”

She frowned. “You’re right.”

“He’s the one who would bring us back, isn’t he?”

“He would.”

“So?”

Kotake ran her gnarled fingers through the withering remains of her hair. “We swore revenge.”

“Yes, I remember.”

“That is our purpose here.”

“Din has granted us the chance to seek it against the boy?”

“Do you really think so?”

Koume wrinkled her already worn out face. “No.”

“Perhaps it was the Kodiak. They have always served us well.”

“The Kodiak brought us back?”

“That’s my guess.”

“Why would they do that?”

“I can think of only one reason, sister.”

“What?”

“They want us to restore Ganondorf,” Kotake said.

Koume cleaned some sand out of her ear with her little finger. “Why would they want that?”

“Well, he brought their Pride greater glory than it deserved.”

“Honorless wretches. In our time, no Gerudo would have dreamed of advancing in rank by –”

“Our time is over, sister,” Kotake cut her off. “We have a singular purpose now. To bring him back.”

“But how can we do that?” Koume asked.

“There are ways. Ancient ways that the Kodiak do not know.”

“I hope you’re not suggesting a resurrection. Those never work!”

“No. If we want Ganondorf Dragmire to be as he once was, he will need to be created as he once was.”

“Born again?”

Kotake nodded. “Born of flesh and blood.”

“But we can’t do that!” Koume insisted. “Not precisely. Not the way we arranged for his birth the first time.”

“Fear not, sister. We have something we didn’t have the first time.”

“What’s that?”

“The one who defeated him.”

“The boy?”

“Yes,” Kotake hissed. “The boy who killed him will be cause of his return.”

“But how?”

“The Topaz.”

Koume grew unnaturally silent, staring at her sister. Kotake could feel the question burning in her sister’s belly and waited patiently, giving her time to process it. “Surely we can kill him another way,” she finally said.

“We can kill him many ways,” Kotake said. “But we must use his death to our advantage.”

“But how will killing him with the Topaz restore Ganondorf?”

Kotake smiled. Her memory had always been far superior to Koume’s. “Ganondorf shall be reborn when a Gerudo with child by an Alpha’s son kills the enemy in a painless death,” she said patiently. “We created the prophecy ourselves, don’t you remember? We needed a failsafe.”

“So if a Gerudo with child by an Alpha’s son kills Link with the Topaz, her child will be Ganondorf reborn?”

“Do you remember?”

Furrowing her brow, Koume was silent. “Yes.”

“Good.”

“But why would we make such an absurd set of circumstances?” she asked impatiently.

“What?”

“An Alpha’s son? That’s not possible. A son is only born to the Gerudo every hundred years. And how many Alphas are there in comparison to the rest of the Gerudo population?”

“We’ll worry about that later,” Kotake said, waving her hand.

“It could be thousands of years before an Alpha births a son,” Koume insisted.

“Our first priority will be reassembling the Topaz,” Kotake snapped, her eyes blazing red with fire.

“All right,” Koume grumbled meekly. “But Kotake…”

“What?”

“Well…” She shifted, her ancient joints creaking. “We’re old. We haven’t the power…”

“I know.”

“We can’t stay hidden for long. What happens if the boy finds out that we’re alive again?”

“Then I suppose it won’t be long before he realizes what we’re doing,” Kotake admitted.

“What should we do?”

“We’ll have to employ some help.”

“Help?”

“Someone to assemble the Topaz for us while the boy is chasing after us. Someone to do our bidding while we restore our power.”

Koume nodded. “I understand. But where are we going to find help?”

“I have an idea,” Kotake said. She held out her hand and with a flash of fire, her broom appeared. She held it over the ground a moment then let go, the wood hovering of its own free will. Mounting the broom, she turned impatiently to her sister. “Come on,” she barked.

“Yes, yes, yes,” Koume mumbled. “I’m coming.” An instant later, with the crackle of ice, Koume’s broom appeared to perform the same trick. Once Koume was mounted, the sisters took off together, shooting straight up into the shy with sparks of fire and ice trailing behind them. They crisscrossed each other, then leveled off, soaring away, deeper into the heart of the Gerudo Valley.



“Oh, come on, please?” Link pled, standing under the shade of a Gerudo cabana that cast purple light down as the sunlight hit the delicate fabric. He watched as two Gerudo women battled before him.

“I don’t know, Link,” said the taller of the two. She was Nebekah, the first Beta of the Jaguar Pride. At the moment, she stood on a log, stretched out over a pit, holding a pair of long chobos in her hands. Standing on another log, facing her, was a young warrior that Link did not know. She was gripping her sticks tightly, taking wide swings at Nebekah, who easily dodged each attack by merely swiveling her hips.

“I need your help,” Link told her. He had already explained Talon’s situation to her twice, but Nebekah was reluctant to have anything to do with the matter.

“Things still aren’t very stable around here,” Nebekah said, taking a step backward onto another log, over the pit. Her sparring partner stepped forward, taking another swing at Nebekah and missing by a mile. She easily dodged, her long, blood red dreadlocks bouncing behind her like a thousand snakes, thrown suddenly into the air. Swiftly, she crossed the chobos in front of her chest and sliced them up through the air, catching the other woman’s sticks in the V. She thrust her arms up and her partner was unable to maintain her balance any longer. With a help, she fell off the log and into the pit below. Dust rose up into the air.

“Since when are you so timid?” Link scoffed, folding his arms. “That’s hardly befitting of a Gerudo.”

“Listen to you. You’re made an honorary member of the Dragon Pride and suddenly you know what it means to be Gerudo?”

“Hey, has there every been an honorary male Gerudo before?” he asked, knowing full well that he was the first.

Nebekah leaned over, extending an arm into the pit. The other girl grabbed Nebekah’s wrist, allowing herself to be heaved back to ground level. She perched on the edge of the pit, covered in dark black soot. During more serious battles, the pit was said to be filled with fire and the loser was promised an almost certain demise. “Keep working on your form, Sandya,” Nebekah said.

“Yes, Beta,” Sandya said meekly, bowing her head.

Smiling, Nebekah clapped her on the shoulder. “You’re doing very well,” she told her gently.

“Thank you, Beta.”

“Go run along and clean up.”

Sandya nodded and scampered away. Nebekah brushed the soot off of her hand, absently sprinkling a bit onto her loose fitting, silk pants. “Come with me, Nebekah,” Link begged, walking out from under the comfort of the shade and into the harsh sunlight.

“I don’t’ know, Link,” she said.

“I’m sure the Alpha will give you permission,” Link said. “She likes me a lot, you know.”

“All the Jaguars like you,” Nebekah pointed out. “You killed Ganondorf Dragmire.”

“Exactly,” Link said, feeling a tense knot form in his throat for a moment. He swallowed it down. “I think you owe me one.”

Nebekah smiled. Like most Gerudos, she was singularly attractive, but her natural beauty only radiated when she afforded someone a rare smile. “We owe you one, do we?”

“Well…yes.”

“Because you wouldn’t have killed him if you didn’t think you could get a favor from the Jaguar Pride?”

“Well…”

“Nice try, blondie.”

“I can’t do this without you, Nebekah.”

“Why not?”

“I don’t know where to begin. I have no idea where a man would disappear to in the Gerudo Valley.”

She sighed. “He’s probably dead.”

“I’d rather find him alive.”

“He’s been gone how long?”

“A few months, I think.”

Nebekah twirled a dreadlock in her fingers. “Well, if he’s still alive, he’s probably with the Orca.”

“The Orca?”

“They’re the only Pride that takes male prisoners.”

“Will you show me where they are?”

“I don’t know, Link…”

Link glanced around. He spotted Sandya’s chobos sticks, resting beside the fire pit. At once, he crossed over to them, picking them up. With great care, he stepped up onto one of the numerous logs stretched out over the soot. “I beat you, you help me track down Tyro.”

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Nebekah said.

“No joke.”

“Link, have you ever attempted the fire pit before?”

“No,” he admitted. “But I learn quickly.”

“You’re being ridiculous.”

“Come on. Fight me. A fair match. If you beat me, I’ll go away and I won’t bother you any more.”

Rolling her eyes, Nebekah carefully stepped back out onto another log. “All right,” she said. At once, Link took a very precise swing at her left flank. Nebekah just barely managed to block the blow. “I thought you said you’d never done this before,” she cried.

“I haven’t,” Link replied.

“Not bad,” she muttered. With that, she took two identical swings, aiming for either side of Link’s knees.

He shot his sticks out, blocking the blows. “Beginners luck,” he said, a fierce grin on his face.

She swung her right stick at his head, but Link managed to duck. “You’d make a fair dueler.”

“Tell me something though,” he said, retaliating with a jab.

Nebekah parried it. “What?”

“Do you really have duels to the death over fire?”

“No,” she admitted, thrusting to his right shoulder.

Link blocked it. “I didn’t think so.”

“Of all the Gerudo Prides, I’d say that the Jaguar have become the most peaceful. Otherwise, do you really think we would have let you just waltz into camp?”

“Well, if you’re so peaceful, why do you keep teaching the girls this barbaric ritual fighting?” Link swung both of his chobos in opposite directions, aiming for her head.

Skillfully, she ducked under the attack. “Because we’re peaceful, not weak. Ready to fight at a moment’s notice if necessary.” She snarled angrily. “And we haven’t forgotten about that little coup attempted by the Kodiak last year. I lost my mother in that fight.”

Sensing dangerous territory, Link avoided the sudden, passionate outburst. “If you’re so ready to fight, why won’t you come with me to the Orca?”

“Because,” she said, choking up her hold on one of the sticks, “I don’t like crossing the Valley. And your friend’s nephew is probably dead.”

“Maybe,” Link admitted. “But I need to look.”

“You’re a good friend, Link.”

“I know.”

Nebekah attempted to ram one of her sticks into his middle, but Link caught it with both of his sticks crossed, in the V just as she had earlier caught Sandya. “But just waltzing into the territory of the Orca isn’t an option.”

“Which is why I don’t want to do it,” he said. “Alone!” With a grunt, he pushed back on her attacking arm, sending her shoulder back and throwing her off balance. She stepped back, trying to gain her footing on another log, but Link used that moment to knock a stick into her knee. Nebekah slipped, falling in between the logs and onto the soot. Link leaned over to look at her and only too late realized his error, as a cloud of dust blew into his face. Still, he coughed and smiled triumphantly. “I win.”

“You cheated,” she replied.

“How?”

But of course, he hadn’t and Nebekah knew that perfectly well. “Help me out of here.”

“You’ll go with me to find the Orca?” he asked.

“Yes,” she sighed. “I’ll go with you.”

“Great.” Link offered her a hand. Immediately, Nebekah took it and pulled hard, sending him face first down into the black dirt. “Gah!” he exclaimed, spitting soot out of his mouth.

“Oh, come on,” Nebekah laughed mercilessly. “How could you not see that one coming?”

“I have absolutely no idea,” he said with a pout. Secretly, his heart lightened a bit. He was grateful to have Nebekah agree to come with him on the journey. She had been a good friend to him since he first ventured into Gerudo territory when they were both children. Even back then, she had always been surprisingly playful for a Gerudo. Her smile always comforted him and assured him that even in the direst of situations, there would be hope. She would help him now. With any luck, she would be able to keep the demons at bay.



The target was shaped like a man. Naturally. They were best when they served as targets, unfortunately, the Alpha wouldn’t permit her warriors in training to use an actual man for practice. She considered it unseemly. As a measure of tracking progress, each young warrior was given a quiver with arrows of a specific color. It allowed the elders to determine whose aim was best and whose still needed improvement during training sessions. This afternoon was not a training session, but still, the target was covered in blue arrows, most of them centered around the chest. Not a single green arrow had managed to hit the dummy.

Mika watched her companion Alcia as she struggled to nock another green arrow into the bow. So far, she had managed to break three brow strings, but had not yet succeeded in firing an arrow more than three yards. Mika herself had run out of arrows some time ago and now stood, offering her friend encouragement. It was still hopeless. Alcia was terrible.

“Oh,” she moaned as yet another arrow curved down in its fight, hitting the ground. “I’m a lost cause.”

“Don’t say that,” Mika told her, brushing her hair away from her shoulders. Mika wore it wrapped tightly in blue threads, in part to keep it out of her face and in part to make certain that everyone knew the blue arrows belonged to her. She had the best aim in the entire camp.

“It’s true,” Alcia said with a pout.

“You just haven’t gotten the hang of it yet,” Mika responded. “You’ll get it. Just keep practicing.”

“I’m always practicing,” Alcia grumbled.

“I know,” Mika told her, trying to sound encouraging.

“I’m just not improving.” Alcia set down her bow, letting the quiver with its remaining green arrows spill out. She sank to the ground, hanging her head so that her light blond hair fell over her face.

Mika couldn’t help but laugh at her friend’s strange impersonation of a weeping willow. “Come now, Alcia,” she said, squatting down in front of her.

“Just leave me alone.”

Mika brushed back Alcia’s hair, attempting to catch her eye. “It’s not all bad. Besides, the initiation doesn’t involve using bows anyway.”

“No,” Alcia said sulkily. “It involves the sword. And I’m worse with that than I am with bows!”

“You just have to –”

“Keep practicing,” Alcia finished for her.

“Yeah.”

“I know.” She brushed her hair out of her face. “It’s just that…”

“What?”

Alcia sighed. “Sometimes, I feel like I’m not meant for this.”

“What?”

“Not meant to be a Gerudo warrior.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Mika told her sternly.

“I’m not being ridiculous,” she insisted.

“Of course you’re meant to be a Gerudo warrior. Just like me. The two of us are going to lead this Pride someday.”

She scoffed. “No, you’ll lead the Pride. You do everything so much better than I do.”

“That’s not true,” Mika insisted.

“The only thing I was ever any good at was cooking.” She shook her head. “I’ll never be a real Gerudo.”

“Alcia…”

“It’s true!”

“Alcia, just because you weren’t born a Gerudo doesn’t mean you can’t become one. This has been your home. Medea has been your mother. That’s a bond deeper than blood.” She clutched her friend’s hand. “You were a Gerudo the minute you came to the camp. No one cares if you’re a Thin Blood.”

“I guess so.”

“You know so.”

“Right.”

“Say it!”

“I am a Gerudo,” Alcia said glumly.

“That’s right.” Mika smiled tightly. “Besides, the Gerudo need to eat.”

Alcia smiled a bit at this. “I guess so.”

“Come on, let’s try again. I know you can do it.”

As Mika pulled Alcia up to her feet, they both heard the sound of footsteps approaching. Of course, they had no real need to fear. The camp was so isolated it had, quite literally, never been attacked by outside forces. Still, as young trainees, both of them had been instilled with sharp senses that immediately put them on edge at the sound of someone approaching. Instantly, two pairs of blue eyes snapped in the direction of the sound. For a breathless moment, they waited.

Into the arena came the serene figure of the Orca Alpha, Medea. She regarded her two young wards with a thoughtful expression. She seldom smiled, but her eyes immediately betrayed a certain pleasure at seeing the two of them hard at work. From within the folds of her blue robes, she withdrew two long, curved blades, crossing them in front of her chest. “Good afternoon,” she said lightly.

Both Mika and Alcia pulled up erect, crossing their wrists in front of their chests. Since they had not yet attempted initiation, neither was permitted to carry blades. This was an Orca rule. Medea knew that many of the larger clans had done away with it long ago, but she clung to tradition, as her mother before her and her mother before her, all the way back down the line. She hoped that Alcia and Mika would do the same, after she was gone, but there was much reason to doubt that.

“Good afternoon, Alpha,” Mika barked obediently.

“Good afternoon, Alpha,” Alcia said in her typical, timid whisper.

“At ease,” Medea told them. Immediately, both girls relaxed. “I came looking for you,” Medea said, surveying them lovingly.

“Why?” Alcia asked, inching in front of her quiver in the vain hopes that Medea would not see her pathetic green arrows.

“I have made a very important decision regarding your futures,” Medea explained.

“What’s that, mother?” Mika wondered.

Medea paused a moment, watching the girls. Her face was neutral as ever, but her eyes betrayed a sense of hesitation. This had not been an easy decision. “The time has come for your initiations,” she said finally.

Mika looked about ready to explode with joy. As hard as she tried, she could not perfectly emulate Medea’s abilities to hide her emotions. Alcia, on the other hand, made not attempt to hide what she was feeling. Her jaw went slack and her gaunt, fair face displayed pure horror. “Already?” she squeaked.

“You’ve both turned twenty,” Medea said. “I think it’s time. Din has given me a sign.”

Alcia gulped. “She has?”

“A man was caught loitering around camp,” Medea explained. “It’s time to put him to use.”

“Oh, what’s he like?” Mika questioned.

“Thoroughly unimpressive,” Medea said. “Just a man.”

“When are we going to begin?” Alcia asked nervously.

“This afternoon, in two hours time, our sisters will assemble and he’ll be led in. Alcia, you will face him.”

“M-me?”

“Her?” Mika snapped impatiently.

“Yes,” Medea replied.

Alcia steeled herself, trying to appear braver than she doubtlessly felt. “Very well,” she told the Alpha.

Medea walked over to Alcia, taking her head in her hands. She kissed the girl’s forehead. “I know you will make me proud,” she whispered gently.

“I w-will try,” Alcia said.

“You are strong and brave,” Medea told her. “Now, go prepare yourself.”

“Y-yes.” Alcia nodded. Stumbling over the quiver, she walked out of the arena, barely hiding the trembling of her legs.

Mika folded her arms, a pout threatening to break her lips. “Why does she get to go first?”

“Because,” Medea said, “this man is unimpressive. I don’t think he’ll hurt her. You’ll receive a more formidable opponent in time. I’ll go out and capture one myself. It wouldn’t do for you to fight just an idiot who happened to wander too close to our territory.”

Mika seemed to accept the explanation. “All right.”

“You will make me so proud, Mika,” Medea gushed softly.

“I live to do so,” Mika replied.



After changing out of her dirty clothing and into pale, pink desert wear, Nebekah parted with the blessing of her Alpha, a contemporary named Miral, and together with Link, headed out to cross the Valley. It had been a long time since she last visited the Orca Pride. Their relations with the Jaguar were tenuous at best. “They don’t stage raids like the Kodiak,” she explained, “but they still hold some barbaric practices.”

“Like what?” Link asked, accepting her helping hand as they scrambled over some loose shale.

“They’re the only Pride to keep male prisoners.”

“You told me that.”

“Yeah, but I didn’t tell you why.”

“Okay,” Link said. “Why?”

“Two reasons. Some of the male prisoners they use for reproductive purposes, to keep their bloodlines going.”

“You mean…?”

“Yup.”

Link made a face. “What about the others?”

“Well, the Orca have an initiation rite.”

“Something tells me this isn’t going to end happily.”

“You see, when Orca warriors are trained,” she said, “they fight only against women. Their final test, to prove themselves worthy, is to fight a man.”

“And they prove themselves worthy if they…?”

Nebekah nodded. “If they manage to kill him.”

“No offense, Nebekah,” Link grumbled, “but your people are really a bit frightening.”

“They’re not my people,” she said.

“They’re still Gerudo.”

“Not all Gerudo are the same,” she insisted. “There was a time, hundreds of years ago, when the Gerudo were all one people.”

“What happened?”

She shrugged. “Well, it’s a little clouded in myth now.”

“What’s the story?”

“Well, the story is that there were five sisters. They were great warriors, but they fought amongst themselves. And each garnered their own following.”

“Naturally,” he snorted.

“And in the end, the Gerudo people were splintered into five separate groups. The five Prides today.”

“And each developed their own set of rules to live by?”

“Sort of,” she replied. “Based on the edicts of the founding sister. We may all be Gerudo, but each Pride is a unique culture. The Orca and the Jaguar are as different as the Saber Tooth and the Dragon.”

“And they’re all different from Ganondorf’s girlfriends?”

“The Kodiak,” she growled.

“But they all have the same titles,” Link pointed out quickly, eager to keep her from getting too upset.

“The leader of each Pride is called the Alpha. The second in command is the Beta.”

“Like you.”

“Like me. Third is the Gamma. And each Pride has a priestess and an elder healing woman.”

“The same.”

“It’s only proof of a common heritage.”

They walked on for a ways in silence. Link thought about the Gerudo and their splintering, finding it oddly similar to the way the Hylian race divided into subspecies. The Zora were distinct from the Goron. It was history repeating itself, really, when the Gerudo divided into their Prides. This was discouraging. Did that mean that people who were different – either in ethics of the number of fingers they possessed – simply couldn’t coexist? Yet the Sages had represented every Hylian race. Did that mean there was hope yet?

The sun was beating down now, causing the back of Link’s tunic to stick to his skin with sweat. He pulled off his gauntlets, thrusting them unceremoniously into his satchel and wiping the back of his hand across his forehead. Nebekah, more accustomed to the desert travel, graciously slowed down, allowing him to walk in her shadow and offering him sips from her canteen at regular intervals.

“We really should have gotten you more appropriate clothing,” she muttered. “That fabric doesn’t breathe.”

Link sincerely doubted that the Jaguar had desert garb for men, peaceful though they were, living so close to the border of Hylian territory. Still, he appreciated Nebekah’s concern. To keep himself from getting too down trod, he reminded himself that it could certainly be worse. He could be back in the volcanic caverns of the Goron. Somehow, this did not work as intended. Instead of being grateful for the relative cool of the desert in comparison, he merely felt a pang in his throat, reminding himself of that which he longed to forget.

There was some comfort in traveling with Nebekah. She has shared in some of the terrors that haunted Link. During his mad quest to rescue Nabooru, it had been Nebekah who had tended his wounds when the perils of the desert nearly claimed his life. He had found her in a cavern with several Gerudo sisters, resisting the iron will of Ganondorf and the Kodiak who had claimed most of the desert. He remembered all too well the pain and anguish on her face when she told him of the fierce battle, the fight the Jaguar put up, costing them both their Alpha and Nebekah’s mother. In the end, it was only the young, those with legs strong enough to flee, that survived the devastation. Link imagined that like him, Nebekah too wanted nothing more than to forget about Ganondorf and his horrors.

After some time, Nebekah stopped, holding a hand up to shield her vision from the sun. “There,” she said.

“Where?”

Nebekah pointed off to one side, raising her chin. “There’s something in the sand. Come on.”

With that, the two of them cut away from their path, trotting through the windswept plane. It was awhile before Link saw what she could see, a black speck in the flawless yellow sand. The speck grew and grew until finally they were standing over it. Link knelt down, touching the black dirt. “Soot,” he said, rolling it between his bare fingers.

“It seems your friend’s nephew made it this far,” she said.

“How do you know this was Tyro’s fire?” he asked.

She knelt down across from him. “This fire was put out by water,” she explained in a matter of fact tone.

“Okay…”

“When a Gerudo puts out a campfire, she uses the sand.” For emphasis, Nebekah picked up a handful of sand and slowly poured it over the soot. “It saves water for drinking and it has the added bonus of covering up the soot.”

“So no one can track you?”

“Exactly.”

Link nodded slowly. “I see.”

“It seems your friend most likely did wander into Orca territory.”

“That’s good, right?”

She frowned. “It depends on two things.”

“What?”

“It depends on how long ago this was.”

“And what purpose the Orca have in mind for him?”

“If he was captured.”

“Right…”

Link ran his fingers through the soot. Suddenly, Nebekah frowned. “What’s that?” she asked.

“What’s what?”

Nebekah reached out and grabbed his arm, lifting it up to her eye level. “What’s that?” she repeated, pointing to the intricate array of blue lines tattooed on the Hero’s wrist

Quickly, Link pulled his arm back. “Nothing,” he said.

She gave him an incredulous look. “Nothing?”

He sighed. “I’ve had it since I was a baby, I think.”

“What is it?”

“I don’t know exactly. Impa says it looks like half of a Hylian glyph.”

“What’s it mean?”

“I don’t know,” he replied. “I’ve never seen the other half.”

“There’s another half?”

“I really don’t want to talk about this,” Link insisted.

She persisted. “Why?”

“Look,” he said sharply, “I was raised by the Kokiri, but I was never one of them. I’m just a Hylian. I obviously had Hylian parents at some point.”

“Why would they mark you?”

“I was a baby,” he said. “I didn’t really think to ask.”

“Link…”

He frowned. “Impa says that I had a sister. She thinks that our parents marked us each with half of the symbol so that we could locate each other if anything happened to us.”

“Well, that’s certainly planning ahead.”

“I’ll say. Like they knew something was going to come between us or that Kasuto was going to be attacked.”

“So what happened to your sister?”

Link shrugged. “I don’t know. She went into hiding like me, I guess.”

“You never tried to find her?”

“I don’t even know what her name is.” He pulled out his gauntlets, putting them on again, signaling that the conversation was over. “Let’s keep going,” he said.



Tyro generally prided himself on a unique ability to keep a level head no matter what the situation was. He could talk his way out of a tab at the tavern better than anyone else in town. If he happened to forget the name of the girl he had spent an evening with, he was always cool and calm, dismissing it with an easy going smile. Even as a child, he had managed to explain away the missing cookies from the kitchen without implicating himself at all. But this time, he had to admit, he was at a loss.

These girls weren’t like the town courtesans. He had figured that much when they clubbed him over the head and dragged him across the desert. It wasn’t his fault he had been camping out in their territory. He had no idea how these blasted Gerudo clans operated. All he knew was that one moment, he was perfectly content, minding his own business, and the next he had been thrown into a musty iron cage that he suspected was generally used to hold Moblins. Typical Gerudo behavior, of course. They were always harming the innocent.

Unlike so many sticky situations before, Tyro’s good looks were useless against these women. Not that he would smile at his captors, flashing his brilliant teeth, batting his magically long of lash blue eyes only to receive scowls, curses, and the occasional spit in his face. All things told he had to admit he was in over his head. And things only seemed to be getting much worse. Well, it was his own fault. No, he couldn’t believe that. It was their fault. None of this would have happened if the Gerudo nation hadn’t minded its own business.

In the morning, he was informed that he would be participating in the initiation ritual of someone called Alcia. For a moment, he allowed his mind to fool him into believing that this would be a pleasant ordeal, but now, no amount of pretending would protect him from reality. His wrists were bound by surprisingly strong linen and he was dragged out of the cage, one Orca holding his arm, the other firmly tugging on his long, auburn ponytail. They led him through the hallways of the Orca fortress, lined on either side by insanely angry women who occasionally threw things at him. Usually curses. Occasionally rocks. Tyro wished he could move his head to glare at them and make his contempt well known.

At last, his pale skin was seared by the sun once more as they led him into a stone arena. In the stands, the warriors of the Orca pride had gathered, beating on drums and waving torches into the already insufferably hot air. Tyro was dragged to the center of the arena floor, thrown to the sand at the feet of a woman. He had seen her several times before during his captivity. They called her Alpha Medea. She was a striking woman with slender fingers and long red hair, pulled back with a blue snood, all but a few tendrils that framed her face. For a Gerudo, she had a softer, prettier look, favoring blue robes to the leather battle gear of the majority of the Orca. Still, Tyro had the distinct impression that she could do him a nasty bit of injury.

“Untie him,” she commanded the lackeys that had dragged him through the hall. Tyro was grateful to feel the bounds fall away from his wrists. Gingerly, he rubbed his aching scalp.

As he looked up, he noticed a ring of younger girls standing around the edge of the arena. Each one wore a distinct color and carried a quiver with arrows of the matching color: All except one, a frail, frightened looking blond girl in green who stood opposite of Tyro, clutching a pair of swords with trembling hands. She seemed to be taking in the crowd as one observed a massacre, her eyes wide, her skin completely blanched. Immediately, Tyro felt his heart lift considerably. Whoever she was, however she came to be here, she wasn’t like the others. She wasn’t a Gerudo. She was a Hylian just like him.

The drum music finally died down. Medea held up her hands in one majestic sweep and all fell silent, watching her intently. “Today, my sisters,” she declared, “Alcia joins our ranks as a Gerudo warrior.” There was cheering in the crowd, but Tyro was almost positive that he heard some murmurs of trepidation too. “She will today become a Delta warrior. The sacrifice has been brought forward.”

Sacrifice? That didn’t sound good. As the women in the stands cheered, one of Tyro’s ever so annoying guards kicked him in the side. “On your feet,” she hissed. Frankly, Tyro didn’t feel much like getting up, but it was probably best to obey for the time being. Still, he gave her a nasty glare.

Medea made another graceful gesture and Tyro’s guards backed up to the sidelines. She made her way over to him. “Your death brings honor to my daughter,” she said quietly.

“She doesn’t look much like you,” he said feebly.

“Din provides us with children in more than one way,” she replied. With that, she drew a sword from the confines of her robe. Tyro flinched, certain she was about to cut his throat, but much to his surprise, she flipped the sword in her hand, catching it by the blade, and offered him the hilt.

“Uh…” He wasn’t really sure what to do. She stood there, watching him expectantly. “Right,” he muttered, taking the hilt.

“May you die quickly,” she told him, stepping back. In a louder voice, she turned to address the crowd. “Alcia!” she called. Quivering, the little blond girl stepped forward. She raised her swords, crossing them in front of her chest. “Are you ready to serve the Gerudo nation?”

“I am r-ready,” Alcia recited. No! Tyro did not want to duel her! She wasn’t one of them. She didn’t deserve to die.

“Until this point, you have fought only women. Now you will defeat the true enemy.” Medea clapped her hands together. And again. And again. Everyone in the crowd began clapping, beating out a steady rhythm as the Alpha backed away to the sidelines, leaving Tyro alone to face Alcia. “Begin,” Medea called in time with the sturdy clapping.

At once, Alcia advanced, nervously, on Tyro. He held up the sword with both hands. In truth, he had never had much talent with the sword. He had always found polearms much easier. They traveled better, weighed less, and were readily available for nasty tavern brawls. Not that he particularly wanted to fight this girl at all. But he had been given very little choice in the matter.

With a labored effort, Alcia took the first swing, her swords wildly cutting down at Tyro. He easily dodged the sloppy blow. “We don’t have to do this,” he said, resorting to his old failsafe approach to any hazardous situation.

“Yes,” she grunted, taking a second swing with her left hand at his head. “We do.”

Tyro narrowly jumped out of the way, still clutching his sword in front of him. “Really, I’m a lover, not a fighter.”

Alcia thrust both of her swords forward, missing Tyro completely though he was standing stationary. “I have to become a woman today.”

“Aren’t there other ways of doing that?” he asked.

“No,” she insisted, with another sloppy strike which Tyro avoided. “This is the only way.”

“That’s really unfortunate,” he said, taking a few steps back. “Come on, you’re one of my kind, not one of them.”

“Don’t run away from me, coward,” she shouted. “Fight me.”

“All things told, I think I’d rather run away. It’s safer that way.”

“Safe? I’ll show you safe!” Gathering up all her strength, Alcia bellowed, holding her swords forward and charging at Tyro. The move was so sudden and unexpected, that he didn’t have time to dodge. He closed his eyes, squeezing them shut, and desperately hoped that the pain would be brief. There was a sickening slicing sound, rather like a cabbage being chopped in half with a cleaver. Well, that didn’t hurt at all. Tyro slowly opened his eyes and he realized why.

Alcia stood in front of him, a look of shock on her face which was even paler than before. As his eyes traveled down her tiny frame, he saw his own sword firmly planted in her stomach. She dropped her curved blades. There was a collective gasp from the crowd and the clapping stopped abruptly. “Alcia!” a girl in blue called from the sidelines.

Tyro stepped back, letting go of the sword. It remained firmly embedded in Alcia’s skin. Her breathing was sharp and uneven, her stomach pumping up and down as blood gushed from the wound, down her leg. It was only a minute, but it felt like a lifetime. Only when that passed did Alcia fall, hitting the already bloodstained sand with a soft thud. “Alcia!” Medea shouted, running forward and dropping to her daughter’s side. “Get Tiama!” she barked to one of the shocked bystanders. Medea pulled Alcia’s head into her lap, holding her gently and brushing her hair away from her sweat drenched face. “Breathe easy,” she whispered gently.

“I…” Tyro was too shocked for words. He certainly hadn’t intended on hurting the girl. He wouldn’t have minded running through a Gerudo or two, but she was different. “I…”

There was a sudden roar from the side. The girl in blue charged forward at Tyro, so fast that again, he didn’t have time to dodge. She knocked him flat onto his back and planted a knee into his chest, grabbing one of Alcia’s fallen blades. She pulled it back, ready to plunge it into Tyro’s throat, but a hand caught her wrist, stopping her, and not a moment too soon.

“No,” Medea said firmly, prying the sword out of her hand.

“He impaled Alcia!” the girl in blue shouted.

“Leave him, Mika,” Medea barked.

“But –”

“You know the law,” Medea said firmly. “If she lives, Alcia must fight him again. She and she alone may kill him.”

“And if she dies?” Mika asked urgently.

“Then he has defeated a Gerudo warrior and proved his genes worthy of continuing,” Medea said. Tyro wasn’t quite sure how to interpret that, but it sounded infinitely more pleasant than fighting poor Alcia again. Mika looked ready to argue, but Medea would have none of it. “Let him go,” she ordered. Reluctantly, Mika removed her kneecap from Tyro’s chest. “Take him back to the cage,” Medea instructed her lackeys who had returned to the fold.

Tyro was hefted back to his feet. Right before one of the guards grabbed his ponytail again, he caught a glimpse of Alcia. She was lying on her back, staring up at the sky with a frighteningly glossy look in her eyes. Blood continued to gush from the wound made by Tyro’s unintentional sword. Beside her stood the girl in blue, called Mika. She was glaring at Tyro with a look of pure rage. Somehow, he doubted very much that he would be allowed to live if Alcia died.



The sun was beginning to sink. Link was grateful for the drop in temperature, but Nebekah was concerned. The desert got very cold at night. “It can freeze water,” she warned him. “Even in the summer.” They should have made it to Orca camp by now. Nebekah was too polite to point out that Link’s difficulties with desert travel had slowed them down considerably. “We can still make it,” she said, only somewhat convincingly. “Just a little way more. We’re already in their territory.”

Of course, neither of them were certain what kind of reception they would receive. Link, as a male, was trapped in a dangerous, sticky situation in the Gerudo Valley, and for her own part, Nebekah was afraid that the Orca wouldn’t be too keen on a visit from the Jaguar Beta. The Orca and the Jaguar certainly weren’t at war. But they weren’t exactly friends either.

It didn’t help that the trek was getting more difficult. The smooth desert sands with occasional piles of shale had given way to a rocky terrain. Link and Nebekah found themselves relying more and more on their hands to clamber over the difficult landscape. The Orca, she had explained, were stone dwellers. Link was more and more convinced that there were profound cultural differences between each of the Gerudo Prides. Compared with the relatively mild backdrop and light materials of the Jaguar, he imagined that the Orca were positively prehistoric.

Nebekah scrambled over the rocks, the arrows in her quiver rattling surprisingly loudly. He followed after her, gritting his teeth and sand and dust fell from the rocks in her wake and into his face. A particularly nasty little pebble caught him in the eye. Instinctively, he clapped a hand over his face only to realize too late that he had lost his grip completely. Just as his stomach sank out from under him, however Nebekah turned around, grabbing his wrist and hoisting him up again.

“Thanks,” he mumbled.

“Careful,” she called. Tugging his arm, she pulled him up onto a relatively flat plateau.

Link collapsed onto his knees. “I need a moment,” he said apologetically, looking up at her.

“All right,” she consented.

“Thanks.”

“I’ll go see if there’s a stream nearby. The canteens could use a refill.” She jerked her thumb in the direction of a tall, gray rock formation. “That area looks promising.”

“Okay,” he said.

“I’ll be right back.”

“Yeah,” he muttered.

Nebekah hurried off, her arrows clattering. Link remained on the ground, catching his breath and rubbing his sore eye. Part of him was grateful that Nebekah was polite enough to turn away while he was having difficulty, but another part desperately wished she wouldn’t leave him alone. Every moment in this desert was a little bit too much like his confrontation with Ganondorf all over again. He couldn’t help it! The memories wouldn’t leave him alone. He wondered if there was enough magic in the world to erase it. Perhaps Zelda would know of a cure. He would have to ask her when he returned to the village.

In the meanwhile, to distract himself, Link hummed absently, pulling himself to his feet. The song reminded him of Saria and she always managed to lift his spirits. Even the very thought of her. In fact –

But before Link could finish the verse, he heard a loud grunt from above. Turning sharply, he just barely managed to make out an enormous red and black blur coming right at him. The next thing he knew, he was on the ground, a weight on top of him, pressing the side of his face into the rock. “Man scum!” an angry, female voice shouted.

Just out of the corner of his eye, Link made out the figure pinning him to the ground. It was a Gerudo, one he had never seen before. She was young, her dark red hair cropped close around her face, long fringe falling over her fierce blue eyes. With one hand, she pressed Link’s face down. With the other, she held a knife at his throat, a bit too close for comfort. She wore black and red desert garb, a bit more militaristic than what Link was accustomed to seeing on the Jaguar.

“You’ve just made a big mistake,” she hissed at him. “This is Gerudo territory, scum.”

“No mistake,” Link winced. She pressed him harder into the ground and Link decided now was not the time for levity. “I’m here on a mission,” he croaked, his eye aching. “I’m an honorary member of the Dr –”

“A mission,” she scoffed, cutting him off. “A mission to destroy the Gerudo nation!”

“No. I’m here to speak with the Orca Pride.”

“On behalf of who?” she asked.

“The Jaguar Pride,” a third voice said. In his peripheral vision, Link could just barely see a pink blur appear.

His attacker’s grip relaxed and Link lifted his head to see Nebekah standing there, her bowstring taut, an arrow aimed at the strange woman. “What she said,” he muttered softly, unable to resist a barb.

“Who are you?” the attacker demanded.

“Nebekah, daughter of Elena, first Beta of the Jaguar Pride,” Nebekah told her proudly. “Kindly get off of him.”

“Who’s he?”

“Link, the Hero of Time. Under the protection of the Jaguar Pride. I suggest you cooperate.”

Slowly, clearly with great reluctance, the woman climbed off of Link’s chest. Dizzily, he drew himself to his feet. “I thought he was a spy,” the woman explained without a hint of apology.

“He’s with me,” Nebekah said.

Rather quickly, Link made his way over to Nebekah’s side. “Who are you?” he asked the woman.

She paused a moment, clearly debating any number of things. Finally, she folded her arms across her chest, looking smugly defiant. “Sapphia,” she said. “Daughter of Alondra.”

Link folded his arms, trying to look equally defiant. “And what are you doing here?”

“I’ve come to deliver a message to the Alpha of the Orca Pride,” she told him importantly.

“On behalf of who?”

“My Alpha.”

This game was tiresome. “What Pride do you belong to?”

Again, she was silent for an extended period. “I am a daughter of the Kodiak Pride,” she finally admitted.

Nebekah narrowed her eyes. “Kodiak,” she growled, taking a step forward. Link quickly put a hand on her shoulder to stop her. “Dishonorable wretch!” she hissed, spitting at Sapphia.

Sapphia rolled her eyes. “Still living in the past, I see. The Jaguar are so reactionary.”

“You served under the rule of a man!” Nebekah spat.

“Not just any man,” Link mumbled. “Ganondorf Dragmire.”

“That is in the past,” Sapphia said.

“Is it?” Link asked.

“Ganondorf Dragmire has been overthrown. Rightfully so. Our Alpha has been reinstated.”

“Sarjenka does not deserve the title of Alpha,” Nebekah roared. “Submitting to the will of that man to perform an honorless task.”

“Sarjenka earned the title of Alpha,” Sapphia snapped, “consistent with the laws of our Pride.”

“Your Pride has no laws!”

“And yours has no spine,” Sapphia sneered.

“Ladies!” Link cried before the spat could escalate any further. “I think this is counterproductive. The sun will be setting soon and as I understand it, it’s going to get really, really cold out here. I suggest that we put aside this little dispute in favor of survival.”

“What are you suggesting?” Sapphia questioned.

“We’re all heading in the same direction. I suggest that we travel together.” Nebekah opened her mouth to object, but Link quickly cut her off. “Leave the past in the past. The war is over and the Kodiak have retreated to their own territory. There’s no sense in continuing this.”

She looked reluctant, but Nebekah nodded. “Agreed.” She glanced at Sapphia bitterly.

Sapphia smirked. “Agreed.”

“Wonderful!” Link said, clapping his hands together. “Let’s get going.” With a grand gesture, he allowed Nebekah to take the lead. He followed after her, determined to keep the two women apart until they had cooled down somewhat.

“I’m curious,” Sapphia said. “Why do they call you the Hero of Time?”

“It’s a long story,” Link muttered, hoping that Sapphia would not ask him to tell it. He had enough on his mind now. He didn’t want to bring back the memories.



Following the disaster in the arena, Alcia was transported to Tiama’s chamber. Tiama was the healing woman and kept clean house. Her stone room was filled with soft, straw filled mattresses, cover in silk sheets. From the ceiling hung dozens of gourds, each filled with a unique salve or potion, dedicating to the healing art that she had practiced for nearly half a century.

There was no door to the chamber, but Mika was kept out of it for a good long while by Medea, who insisted that Tiama be left to work on Alcia without anyone peering nervously over her shoulder. Mika busied herself, pacing along the stone corridor, angrily praying to Din to curse that dreadful man with a thousand different horrible things. She could still see the coward’s face. More importantly, his throat which she had been so close to cutting. How dare he harm her sister? He was supposed to be the one bleeding!

Finally, Tiama came out of the chamber. Her worried, weathered face did little to comfort Mika. Tiama pulled Medea aside and the two of them whispered, huddling far from Mika. She strained her ears, trying to hear what they said, but she couldn’t. She clasped her hands together and began to chew on the strings of her gauntlet, an old habit from her childhood. Medea’s face began to slacken as she listened to Tiama. No. No, Mika couldn’t bear it. Alcia had to get better, she simply had to. The two of them had been the closest of companions, ever since they were children. Mika could not fathom going on without her, clumsy though she was, they were still sisters in the deepest sense of the word.

“Mika,” said Tiama’s calm voice, scaring Mika out of her worries.

“What?” she asked urgently.

“You can go in if you like. Alcia’s awake.”

“Is she going to be all right?” Mika asked. The two older women exchanged a worried look. “Is she?”

“Go inside,” Medea urged her gently.

Swallowing a hot lump in her throat, Mika walked past the other two and into the chamber. She ducked under the gourds and made her way over to one of the mattresses against the far wall. Alcia was lying in the silvery blue sheets, her raspy breathing causing the silk to pulse up and down. An ugly brown stain had formed directly over her stomach. Mika could only be gratified that it wasn’t red. At least the bleeding had stopped.

“Alcia?” she whispered.

Alcia turned her head slightly, her glossy blue eyes looking through Mika. “Mika?” she called. “Is that you?”

“I’m here,” Mika told her, kneeling beside the mattress.

Gingerly, Alcia raised an arm, groping out for Mika. Mika took her hand in both of hers, squeezing it tightly. “I guess I was right,” Alcia muttered.

“What?”

“I’m never going to be a Gerudo.”

“Don’t say that. You’ll get another chance. After you get better, I’ll train with you myself. Every night. And then you’ll kill him.”

“You’ll train with me?”

“Just like before.”

“You know,” Alcia said, wetting her lips, “the only reason I liked training with you so much is because it meant spending time with you. I could never fool myself. I wasn’t cut out to be a warrior.”

“You have a Gerudo’s heart,” Mika told her. “Even if you don’t have Gerudo blood.” She brushed a few stray locks of blond hair away from Alcia’s sweaty forehead. “You’re just like me.”

“No,” Alcia whispered. “Not just like you.”

“Close enough. You’re my sister.”

“Always,” Alcia promised.

“You have to get better, okay? You have to pull through this.”

“I’m not sure I can.”

Mika chocked back a sob. “You have to be strong, Alcia.”

“You were always the strong one, Mika.”

“Only because of you.”

“I thank you for saying that.” Alcia turned away from her, staring up at the ceiling with a thoughtful expression.

“Alcia?”

“I wonder,” she drawled hoarsely.

“What?”

“Do you think it hurts?”

“What?”

“Dying? Do you think it’s painful?”

“Alcia!”

“I guess I’ll find out soon enough.”

“Don’t say that!”

“I’ll tell you one thing though, being stabbed doesn’t hurt at all. I don’t feel a thing anymore.”

Mika couldn’t hold back a tear which rolled down her sun kissed cheek. “Stay with me, Alcia.”

“Surprisingly numb,” Alcia said.

“No,” Mika said, squeezing her hand tighter.

“Only a little cold now.” Alcia licked her lips again. “Hey, Mika?”

“Yes?”

“Do you think that maybe…” she trailed off.

“Maybe what?” Mika asked urgently.

“Do you think that maybe my parents will be waiting for me on the other side? My real parents?”

Her lower lip trembled. “We’re your family, Alcia.”

“I know,” Alcia told her gently. “I’ve just always wondered.”

“Wondered what?”

“What they were like.”

“Oh.”

“Do you think they loved me?”

“You’re loved here, Alcia.”

“Do you? Do you think they loved me?”

“I don’t…I don’t know.”

Alcia nodded, seeming to accept that answer. “I think they did.”

“They gave you away.”

“I like to think that…that they did it for a reason. A really good reason. You know?”

Mika didn’t, but she nodded nevertheless. “You’re right. I’m sure they had a really good reason.”

She smiled weakly. “I’ll get to ask them myself.”

“Don’t say that.”

“It’s okay,” she said. “I know it’s going to be okay.”

“You can’t let a man have defeated you.”

“It happened.”

“He can’t be allowed to live. We have to get him for this. The two of us, together. He has to die.”

“Soon enough.” And with a contented sigh, Alcia’s head lolled to one side, her eyes staring blankly into oblivion.

“Alcia!” Mika shouted. She grabbed hold of her sister’s shoulders and shook them, watching helplessly as her head limply swayed. Horror filled her throat. She had seen death before, certainly, at countless initiations, but this was different. This time, it was someone she knew. Someone she cared for. Someone she loved. “No…” she whispered, lowering her forehead onto Alcia’s shoulder. Already, the body was becoming cold. “No!” she roared, throwing her head back and shouting at the ceiling. “No!”

She could hear Medea and Tiama rush in, calling out in confusion and sadness as they realized what had happened. Mika did not see them. They were nothing but shadows on the wall. Her mind was elsewhere, longing for her sister. A new passion flared up in her suddenly. Her sister had been killed by a man. A man still very much alive and sitting pretty in a cage within the confines of the compound. Such an evil could not be permitted to continue. Fire flared in Mika’s eyes. She would avenge this wrong. She would kill him. To blazes with tradition.

Numbly, she rose, letting go of Alcia’s hand for the last time. Ignoring Medea and Tiama as they offered her some cold comfort, she turned and made her way out of the chamber, barely noticing as the scene changed about her. She moved through the corridors of her home, letting her feet instinctively guide her. He would pay dearly for her loss. Alcia’s soul would have company on its journey. Perhaps she would finally find her parents, but frankly, Mika felt it didn’t matter. The Gerudo were the only family a woman needed. To blazes with Alcia’s parents for abandoning her. And for that matter, to blazes with Mika’s too.



The night had just fallen when Link, Nebekah, and Sapphia reached the top of an enormous, but shallow, ravine. Staring down over they edge, they saw, arrayed before them, the entire Orca compound, an impressive village of stone dwellings, circling a large fortress and arena. Torches ambled back and forth along the narrow avenues as sentries moved about, but the vast majority of the shadowy people seemed to be milling about in the arena.

Protocol stated that the Gerudo messengers had to appear before the Alpha, but from the looks of things, that might prove difficult. Something was going on. Uncertain of how else to proceed, the trio made their way down the steep of the ravine and headed to the compound. By the time they arrived, a harvest moon had risen. More hauntingly though, the streets had been abandoned.

“Something’s happening,” Nebekah murmured.

“What was your first giveaway?” Sapphia retorted.

“Shut up,” Nebekah snapped.

“Ladies,” Link interrupted them. “I think we need to find the Alpha.” He was a bit hesitant about it really. While Sapphia’s duties as a messenger were more or less on the up, he very much doubted protocol allowed him to waltz up to the Alpha and demand that she release a prisoner to his custody. Perhaps it was just best to go along with Sapphia and rescue Tyro in an off hand sort of way. Vaguely, he wondered if the Orca were willing to buy and sell male prisoners. Doubtful. And even if they did, he realized, he didn’t have much money and certainly nothing worth bartering, except maybe his sword, and he wasn’t about to part with it.

“Her greeting chamber is in the middle of the fortress,” Sapphia said. “Follow me.”

Sapphia headed off in the direction of the fortress, Link right behind her, and Nebekah reluctantly bringing up the rear. Link was certain that he could hear her grumbling behind him, doubtlessly complaining about the indignities of having to follow a Kodiak. He supposed on some level, he couldn’t blame her. After all, the Kodiak had killed her mother. Still, it wasn’t Sapphia’s fault.

When they reached the fortress, Link was thoroughly confused. No guards were posted in front of the entrance and they were able to just waltz right in. The hallways were eerily deserted as well. “Do you think they’re waiting to ambush us?” Link mused softly.

“No,” Sapphia said. “If so, they would have done it already.”

“So where is everyone?”

“The arena,” Nebekah said. “You saw for yourself.”

“What are they doing there?”

“Could be any number of things,” Sapphia replied. “An initiation, a ceremony, a funeral, even an important birth. The Orca are quite public about such things.”

Link wrinkled his nose. “Ew.”

They wound their way through the twisting hallways, sparsely decorated, but for occasional silk hangings of blue and green. “Orca colors,” Sapphia supplied.

Eventually, they entered into a small chamber, apparently Medea’s hall for receiving guests. Although small, it was not unlike the throne room of North Castle, with several graceful alcoves, flanked with high stone arches. A throne resting on a dais stood directly before them, the back carved with ornate images of Gerudo design that Link could only guess at.

“She’s not here,” Link said, looking around at the obviously empty room. “No one’s here.”

“Not even a guard,” Nebekah muttered. “Something terribly important must be taking place.”

“Her Shard is gone,” Sapphia said softly.

Link turned around. “What?” Sapphia was standing in front of one of the arched alcoves. Resting in the middle was a tall marble pedestal, suspiciously empty. Link supposed that the Shard, whatever it was, was supposed to be resting comfortably there on the marble.

Nebekah frowned, walking over to see for herself. “That’s strange,” she said, momentarily forgetting to be angry at Sapphia.

“Shard?” Link repeated.

“Perhaps the Orca use it in some ceremony?” Sapphia guessed.

“Or she doesn’t keep it in her chamber?” Nebekah said. “I know our old Alpha used to keep hers in a private den.” She scowled, the mention of her defeated Alpha reminding her just who Sapphia represented.

Sapphia seemed oblivious. “No, I know she keeps it in here. I’ve seen it before. I’m sure of it.”

“What’s a Shard?” Link asked quickly, hoping to again head off another verbal spar.

“Another part of the Gerudo legend, as old as the Prides themselves,” Nebekah told him, walking back over to his side. “An artifact that ties us to the other Hylian races.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, the goddesses created all the races of Hyrule and the three of them agreed to endow the Kokiri, the Zora, and the Goron each with a magical, spiritual stone,” she said. Link chose to remain silent, keeping his own secret knowledge of the spiritual stones to himself. “Nayru and Farore didn’t want to give the Gerudo a stone, but Din disagreed. She traveled to the highest star in the heavens and forged there a stone for the Gerudo.”

“A fourth spiritual stone?” Link wondered. No one had ever bothered to tell him this.

“The Gerudo Topaz,” Nebekah said.

“Wow.”

“It was given to the first Gerudo Alpha, back when all of the Prides were united under a single leader.”

“But then the Prides split?”

“Yes.”

“And I’ll bet the Topaz became a point of high contention.”

“Absolutely,” she said with a nod. “Each Pride considered itself worthy of bearing the Gerudo Topaz, but they all knew better than to fight for the right. Instead, a compromise was reached.”

“Which was?”

“The Topaz was divided into five equal pieces and the Alpha of each Pride was given one of the –”

“Shards,” Link finished for her.

“Precisely. And each Shard is passed on from mother to daughter, throughout the ages.”

“Does it do something?”

“What?”

“Does a Shard do something?”

Nebekah shrugged. “Not that the Jaguar are aware of. Although, the legends tell that if the five Shards are united back into the Topaz again, it has a great and terrible power.”

“What power?”
“A great and terrible one,” she repeated. “I have absolutely no idea. It’s never been done.”

Link walked over to the pedestal. As he peered down at the dizzying designs, he recognized writing all of a sudden. “Hey,” he called, beckoning Nebekah. “Look at this.”

“What?” she asked.

“There’s writing on here.”

“Writing?”

“Right there,” he pointed to the intricate letters.

“You can read that?” she asked.

“It’s ancient Hylian,” he said with a nod.

“What does it say?”

Link squinted, concentrating as hard as he could. “It says…‘One thing stands between the stone and the grave…’”

“Yes?” she urged him.

“That’s it.”

“What?

“That’s all it says. One thing stands between the stone and the grave.” He shrugged.

“Well, that’s not very helpful,” she murmured.

“Sure it is.”

“Why?”

“If nothing else, it tells us what the Topaz is.”

“What do you mean?”

“Generally, when the word grave is involved, that means death. I think it must be some kind of weapon.”

“Well, that’s upsetting.”

“Just as well the pieces have never been put together, I suppose.
Nebekah nodded. “Yeah.”

Suddenly, Link sensed something out of place. Things were just a little too quiet. “Hey, Sapphia,” he asked. “If there’s a ceremony going on –”

“She’s gone,” Nebekah interrupted.

“What?”

“She’s gone.”

Link spun around in a full circle. Nebekah, it appeared, was right. Sapphia had disappeared. “Where did she go?”

“I think we better leave.”

“Why?”

She shook her head. “First rule of combat, if your enemy knows where you are, don’t be there.”

“But we’re not a war.”

“That is never a certainty in the Gerudo Valley.”



Mika wound her way automatically through the corridors, going against the tide of people who began to return to the arena. News spread fast through the Orca Pride, doubtlessly because it was so small and closely kept. Everyone knew that Alcia was dead. They were making their way to the funeral. Things were lever kept waiting around here. It seemed only the natural course of things that revenge shouldn’t wait either. Mika certainly wouldn’t give the man a single extra moment of life. She would wring it from him.

The cages were kept in the remotest quarter of the compound, far from the living quarters of the Alpha and other important members of the hierarchy. Frankly, men weren’t often kept in them. They were generally reserved for Moblins who stupidly wandered into Orca territory or the occasional tiger. Mika thought it unkind that the animals should have to share the same quarters as a man, but then again, she wasn’t the Alpha. Not yet anyway.

All too abruptly, she found herself facing the cage with that dreadful prisoner. He was lounging on the ground, his back against the side of the cage, cleaning his fingernails with a piece of straw. Immediately, Mika was seized with the urge to grab his annoying little ponytail and yank his scalp off. He heard her coming and glanced up, his aloof eyes clearly forced.

“So?” he asked.

Her eyebrows leapt up into her hairline. “So?” she repeated incredulously.

“Is she going to make it?”

Mika couldn’t believe the impudence of this fool. “She’s dead,” Mika told him flatly.

For a moment, a flicker of remorse seemed to cloud his eyes, but he quickly blinked it away. “Well,” he said quietly, “I’m sorry to hear that.”

“Sorry?” she spat. “You’re sorry?”

“Yes.”

“You killed her.”

At this, he stood up, charging to the bars of his cage nearest to her. “No,” he said coldly. “You killed her. You and your Gerudo kind. You forced her into that arena the same way you forced me.”

“How dare you,” she sputtered.

“I can only hope she’s in a better place now,” he said. “A happier, Gerudo free place.”

“Gerudo free?”

“Far from the likes of you.”

“You will join her shortly,” Mika promised.

“Typical,” he muttered.

What? “Typical?”

“Of the Gerudo. A violent, savage race.”

“No more savage than mankind.”

“Keep telling yourself that. I hope it makes you feel better.”

She blinked. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Men are savages? It isn’t men who raid innocent villages and burn them to the ground. Men don’t kidnap peasants and remove them from their families. And men don’t hold stupid initiation ceremonies that involve killing just to prove your worth to others.” He shook his head. “It’s the Gerudos who are the animals. They belong in cages.”

“That’s funny coming from you.”

“Well…so be it.”

She folded her arms across her chest. “What do you mean by kidnapping peasants and removing them from their families?”

“As if you didn’t know.”

“Tell me!” she demanded.

“And what? You’ll spare my life?”

“Unlikely.”

“I thought so.” He scowled grumpily. “What’s your name?”

“What?”

“Your name. You have one, I presume?”

“Mika,” she said bitterly.

“Mika. My name is Tyro.”

“I don’t care what your name is.”

“Well, I still enjoy pleasantries, even if you don’t, Mika.”

“Stop that.”

“Stop what?”

“Stop saying my name.”

“Why?”

“You’re unworthy.”

He rolled his eyes. “You’re a piece of work, aren’t you?” She was silent. “Well, Mika,” he resumed, “When I was a baby, my mother was taken by the Gerudo.”

“What?”

“They kidnapped her and my father never saw her again.”

“You lie.”

“I found this little tidbit written in my father’s diaries after he died. Now why would he lie in his diary?”

“The Gerudo don’t kidnap women.”

“Just men, then?”

“Yes.”

“Well, that’s so much better,” he drawled.

“Men in our territory!”

“Right.”

“I don’t understand how you can be so haughty when you’re in this position,” Mika said.

“What position is that?” he asked.

“I’m going to kill you.”

“Then I haven’t got a lot to lose by being haughty, have I?”

She spat in his face. “Scum.” With that, she reached in between the bars of the cage, taking his throat in her hand.

Tyro grabbed her wrist, straining to remove it from his neck, but she had a vice-like grip. “I’m sure killing me will make it much better,” he wheezed. “As soon as I’m dead, I’m sure your sister will be alive again.”

“Shut up!” she shouted, squeezing with hall of her might.

“That’s right,” he choked, pulling with all of his might on her wrist. He snapped the strings of her gauntlet and it fell off, but Mika maintained her grip, slowly squeezing the life out of him.

“Mika!” Suddenly, a hand clamped onto Mika’s shoulder. A powerful grip pulled her away, forcing her to let go of Tyro’s throat, though she banged his head against the bars and sent him to the ground, sputtering for breath. Mika looked up to see Medea standing over her with a very stern look on her face.

“Alpha,” Mika gasped.

“What do you think you were doing?” Medea snapped angrily.

“I was…”

“You were going to kill him,” she said.

Swallowing, Mika nodded. “Yes, Alpha. I was.”

“Against my orders.”

“Yes, Alpha.”

Medea sighed wearily, rubbing her eyes. “I knew you were going to do this, I just knew.”

“He killed Alcia!”

“Just because it’s personal, you do not have an excuse to go against my word,” Medea said.

“I didn’t kill her,” Tyro insisted.

“Be quiet!” Mika yelled at him.

“You almost saw to that, didn’t you?”

“You had it coming!”

“Not according to your precious leader.”

“Don’t talk of her that way, you loathsome toad!”

“Enough!” Medea roared, causing both Tyro and Mika to fall into an eerie silence. “Mika, you will come with me and attend your sister’s funeral.”

“But –”

“He will be dealt with later, in accordance with our laws.” Medea pulled Mika up to her feet with considerable strength. “Come.”

Without further argument, Medea steered Mika out of the room. Mika turned back over her shoulder, throwing a final, contemptible glare at Tyro. He smiled blithely. “Maybe next time,” he called after her. It was then he realized that he was still holding her gauntlet. He threw it through the bars of the cell, only an instant before realizing how feeble an attempt it was. Well, at least it made him feel better.



“We should have known better than to trust a Kodiak,” Nebekah groaned as she and Link raced through the abandon hallways, searching for their missing traveling companion, the only one with any standing amongst the Orca.

“Give it a rest,” Link muttered, careful to make sure she didn’t actually hear the retort.

The compound had become a giant maze, as neither of them knew exactly where to go. Distantly, they could hear music and decided that it was probably coming from the arena where they had viewed a large assembly from above on the ridge. Link’s instincts were torn, half of him thinking it safest to avoid the large crowds of women who didn’t particularly care for men, while the other half reminded him that he had made a promise to Talon. He had to find Tyro, or at the very least, find out what had become of him. In they end, they decided to follow the sound. Assuming the worst, that Sapphia was going to turn them in, they knew she’d probably do the same.

Before long, the noise began to swell. Either they were getting louder, or Link and Nebekah were closer. “The Orca are certainly confident that no one is going to raid their fortress.”

“You would be too,” Nebekah said, “assuming you had their history.”

“And here you said that the Jaguar were the most peaceful.”

“We are,” she said. “We don’t kidnap and sacrifice men.”

“True.”

Suddenly, they spotted a figure in black and red, turning into the hallway before them. “Kodiak,” Nebekah hissed.

“Sapphia!” Link called to her, trying to keep his voice from attracting any unwanted attention.

She was on the other end of the hall, peering through a doorway that was glowing with orange, presumably from a fire. The noise had risen to levels that made it absolutely clear that a large assembly of Orca were gathered on the other side of that door, presumably in the arena. She turned around. “Decided to move, did you?” she asked coldly.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Nebekah demanded.

“Why did you abandon us?” Link added.

“I don’t have time to waste with story telling. I already know the story of the Gerudo Topaz,” she replied haughtily.

“You shouldn’t have left,” Link said.

“I have important business,” she insisted.

“What business?”

“The message to deliver to the Alpha from my Alpha.”

Nebekah rolled her eyes. “It can’t have been so important that you decided to abandon us without telling us.”

“It’s quite important,” Sapphia answered. “It concerns the future of the entire Gerudo nation. Possibly Hyrule itself.”

“What is it?”

“I’ve been instructed to tell Medea, not you.”

“Look,” Link said hastily. “Why don’t we skip the argument and just go find her, okay?”

Both women seemed to find this acceptable. Vaguely, Sapphia pointed through the doorway. Together, the three of them tip toed their way forward, peeking out into the arena. It looked much larger on ground level, the tiered stands rising up what Link imagined was no less than three stories. They were filled with Gerudo women of varying ages and in varying degrees of dress. The long, sand-covered floor stretched far. He could well imagine that all of Lon Lon Ranch could fit snugly within the confines of the wide circle.

In the very center of the arena was a tall pyre. Around it stood a ring of young girls, each wearing a different color, each holding a dancing torch up above their heads. Between the circle and the pyre was a woman in blue robes, holding her arms up and chanting in a language that Link could not identify. “That’s Alpha Medea,” Sapphia hissed, pointing to her.

“What are they doing?” Link asked Nebekah.

She frowned. “I don’t know. I’m not entirely up to date on all of the Orca traditions,” she admitted.

“When the Kodiak prepare for battle, they spend the night dancing around the fire and attack just before dawn,” Sapphia supplied.

“You would,” Nebekah muttered. “But the Orca couldn’t possibly reach anyone to attack them by daybreak.”

Ceremoniously, the young girls all lowered their torches to the pyre, setting it alight. There was a loud, collective wail that came from the stands. “I don’t think they’re happy,” Link whispered.

“Look,” Nebekah said abruptly, pointing up to the top of the pyre.

Link strained his eyes and just barely made out a form, wrapped in bandages or linen of some kind. “A body?” he guessed.

“It’s a funeral,” Nebekah decided. “Judging from the torchbearers, I’d guess whoever it was that died was someone young. Those are Orca trainees. You can tell by the way they dress.”

He was about to ask what about their unique clothing marked them as trainees, but Link suddenly felt his heart leap up into his throat as one of the girls, with her hair wrapped in blue thread, suddenly made direct eye contact with him. “Uh oh,” he murmured.

“Intruders!” the girl in blue shouted, pointing an accusing finger directly at the spying trio.

Before anyone knew what was happening, a volley of arrows rained down from the stands. Link pulled Nebekah and Sapphia back into the relative safety of the doorway, but that move cost him precious seconds. As he dared to look up and see if the flying fatalities had stopped, he found that several more women, brandishing curved swords, had appeared on the ground level, pointing them directly at the trespassers. “Now what?” he wondered.

“Leave it to me,” Sapphia told him, calmly stepping forward and holding her hands up in front of her.

Alpha Medea made her way over, flanked closely by the girl in blue who had spotted them. “You have interrupted a sacred event,” Medea said softly. Link was surprised at how absolutely frightening someone could sound without shouting like a maniac.

“We apologize, Alpha,” Sapphia said, crossing her wrists in front of her chest deferentially.

“Who are you?” Medea demanded.

“I am Sapphia, daughter of Alondra, the new first Beta of the Kodiak Pride,” she said proudly.

“And who are you?” Medea asked Nebekah.

“Nebekah,” she answered quickly. “Daughter of Elena, first Beta of the Jaguar Pride.”

“A Jaguar and a Kodiak traveling together,” Medea said. “That is highly suspect.”

Sapphia cut off Nebekah, who clearly had a retort on the tip of her tongue. “Due to extenuating circumstances, an alliance has been formed. All the Gerudo Prides must band together. I have an urgent message from my Alpha, it regards the future of the entire –”

“What about him?” Medea interrupted, gesturing to Link.

“A man,” the girl in blue hissed.

Medea held up a hand to silence her. “Mika. Hold your tongue.”

Link piped up. “I’m an honorary –”

“An honor,” Sapphia cut him off. “He is…” Her eyes raced. “A gift,” she decided at last.

“A gift?” Medea muttered.

“A gift?” Link too snapped.

“A gesture of goodwill,” Sapphia continued, gaining confidence steadily. “To honor you.”

“Let me have him,” the one called Mika said passionately, stepping forward and leering at Link. “He looks strong, let me kill him.”

“Now wait just a second!” Link declared angrily. “I’ll have you know that I am an honorary member of the –”

“Hold your tongue, man,” Mika said, pulling back and slapping him across the face.

Medea sighed in a long suffering manner. “Mika,” she mumbled, shaking her head. “Refrain yourself.”

“Please,” Link added. “Refrain yourself.”

“Don’t talk back to me!” Mika shouted at him.

She pulled back to slap him again, but this time, Link was ready for it. He caught her hand in his. Her fingers were slender for a Gerudo and Link imagined that he could probably break them with relative ease, should he be so inclined. Nevertheless, he knew that was a bad way to start off diplomatic relations. He was about to let go of her when he noticed that her unprotected wrist had a series of blue lines tattooed under the skin. It took him a beat to completely register what he was seeing. “Hey…” he said slowly, his brow wrinkling.

“Take him to the cages,” Medea said with an air of boredom. “Keep him with the other man.”

Two Gerudo guards began to close in on Link. “Wait a second!” he cried, backing away from them. From behind, he felt a powerful hand on his shoulder, yanking his sword out of the sheath.

The Alpha glanced at Mika. “If you want him, he’s yours.”

“Thank you, Alpha,” Mika said humbly.

“Wait!” Link shouted as the guards grabbed him under the arms and began to drag him away.

“You may fight him for your initiation in the morning,” Medea said.

“Stop!” Link implored. He struggled against his captors, but they were surprisingly strong. As they began to drag him away, he flailed desperately. He made a momentary eye contact with Nebekah. “Her wrist!” he called to Nebekah. “Look at her wrist!”

“What’s he going on about?” Sapphia asked.

Mika hid her wrist behind her back, clearly looking embarrassed. “Nothing. He’s just a stupid man.”

“Her wrist, Nebekah!” Link’s voice echoed as he was pulled out of sight. “She’s the one!”

Medea turned her attention uneasily to the young trainees. “Take our Jaguar and Kodiak sisters to the bath house. They shall be tended to and fed. I shall entertain them in the greeting chamber after. No one shall sleep tonight.” And how true her words were.



Koume gracefully lifted her arm. Well, graceful was a relative term, she supposed. With her arthritis, it was a wonder she could move as well as she did. There was little worse than old age. Sighing softly as a wall of ice rose by her command, she thought hungrily of the days of her youth, back when she had been renowned for her beauty. Then again, back in her youth, King Gustav had been renowned for his extraordinary physical strength.

She turned stiffly in a circle, enclosing the old, marble floor in a wall of ice. It wasn’t nearly as good as the great stone wall that had once encircled their lair, but it would do for now. She only hoped she had the strength to maintain the wall in the desert heat long enough. The abrupt resurrection, whoever was responsible for it, had left not only her mind addled more than she liked, but her powers as well. She only hoped Kotake had been able to successfully secure the servant they needed. Things had not gone well with the Kodiak Alpha. Sarjenka was quite content to be returned to her post and did not fancy the idea of bringing Ganondorf back. In fact, the younger woman had been quite forceful, forcefully removing the Twinrova sisters from her hallway and sending messengers at once to warn the other Prides.

Still, Kotake had not lost heart. She had a plan. Then again, Koume thought ruefully, her sister always had a plan. She had brilliantly orchestrated Ganondorf’s rise to greatness. If only it hadn’t been for that fresh kid who managed to become the one flaw in the plan. Koume had not seen that coming, but then, Kotake had. Otherwise, she would not have installed the failsafe. Despite her confidence in her sister’s scheming abilities, Koume still found that part a bit difficult. The son of an Alpha? As far as she could tell, one had never existed. She would have to rely on Kotake’s ability to think one step ahead for this one.

Glancing up in the sky, she caught sight of a bright orange streak amidst the stars, heading directly for the ice castle she was creating. “Oh good,” Koume muttered, taking a welcome break to catch her breath. As she watched, Kotake’s broom came soaring down through the open ceiling of the new ice tower and her sister landed easily on the marble floor. “You’re back sooner than I expected,” Koume said.

“Things went far easier than expected,” Kotake replied, dismounting as her ancient joints creaked, a painful reminder that the two of them would soon have to take steps to restore themselves. They could never help Ganondorf unless they helped themselves as well.

“So you’ve done it, then? You’ve secured us a servant to do the deed?” she asked urgently.

“I have,” Kotake said proudly.

“Oh, excellent.”

“She’s eager to restore Ganondorf, in fact.”

“Good.”

“And,” Kotake added slowly, with a theatrical air, “she’s the one responsible for our revival.”

Koume blinked, wondering if her hearing was going as well. “What? A single entity is responsible?”

Kotake nodded. “Yes.”

“By Din…”

“Not only will she serve us well, my sister, but she will make a fine vessel for Ganondorf reborn.”

“Indeed,” Koume agreed.

“It will be all too easy.”

She wanted to agree, but Koume was hesitant. “What about the messengers?” she asked.

“The messengers?”

“The one the Kodiak Alpha sent to warn the other Prides of our return,” she explained.

“What of them?”

“Shouldn’t we do something about them?”

“Why?”

“Well, if word gets around, it won’t be long before the boy finds out, will it?” she muttered.

“Oh,” Kotake said with a laugh.

“What’s so funny?”

“I imagine the boy will find out very shortly,” she smirked, “that is, if he hasn’t already.”

“What?”

“He’s in the Gerudo Valley. I’ve seen him myself.”

“No.”

Kotake nodded. “Yes.”

“That can’t be good.”

“On the contrary, sister, I think it is a wonderful turn of events,” Kotake told her smugly.

“Why so?”

“I see no reason why we can’t use it to our advantage.”

Koume scowled. “Advantage?”

“Yes.”

“How?”

“When he learns that we’re trying to assemble the Topaz, no doubt, he’ll try to beat us to it.”

“I suppose that’s true,” Koume said slowly. Dimly, she seemed to recall that the so called Hero was fond of collecting things.

“I see no reason why we shouldn’t simply let him do all the hard work,” Kotake said with a shrug of her brittle shoulders. “In the meanwhile, we can turn our attention to restoring our power.”

“But we’ll need the pieces eventually.”

Kotake shook her head. “We need not so much as touch the Topaz, sister,” she insisted.

“What?”

“It’s the vessel who will have to use the Topaz to kill the Hero,” Kotake reminded her.

“So all the vessel needs to do is…”

“Follow the boy,” she finished.

“And collect the pieces once they’re all together.”

“And then use the Topaz to kill him.”

“Assuming she’s with child by an Alpha’s son,” Koume found herself muttering. “I still don’t understand that part.”

“Don’t waste your limited capacity for thought over it.”

“It’s a good plan,” Koume said.

“I know.”

“Still, I’d feel safer if our vessel go a hold of at least one of the Shards. Just in case she can’t wrest the whole Topaz from the Hero.”

“Why?”

“Because that way, he can’t use it against us.”

For a moment, Kotake was silent and Koume feared she was about to laugh at her foolishness. Kotake, however, did nothing of the sort. “You’re right,” she said finally. “We should take a few measures.”

“What can we do?” Koume asked.

“The boy is with the Orca now,” she said slowly. “I suppose once he begins trying to collect the Shards, he’ll head to each of the other Prides.”

“Where do you think he’ll go first?”

“The Saber Tooth, most likely,” Kotake decided without a doubt. “They’re closest to the Orca.”

“You’re probably right.”

“Perhaps we should arrange for a little trouble to meet him there. While he’s sorting that out, our vessel will have a chance at finding the Shard for herself.”

“Oh, I like the sound of that,” Koume said, grinning. “What did you have in mind?”

“In mind, you say?” Kotake said with a grin. The sisters shared a wicked, secretive smile.

“I think we can come up with something,” Koume cackled.

“Fancy a flight over to the Saber Tooth?”

Koume smiled. “I can think of nothing finer,” she repeated. She held out her hand and her broom appeared. Both sisters mounted their rides, which hovered over the marble floor. “Once Ganondorf is reborn, do you think he’ll build us a bigger palace?” she wondered.

“Once Ganondorf is restored, he’ll give us North Castle. Or anything else we desire. After all, he must reward his most faithful servants.”

“I only wish I could bear him myself,” Koume sighed.

“You? Don’t be silly, you old bat.” And with that, she took off back into the sky, orange streaks fading behind her. Kotake was one to talk, Koume thought bitterly as she kicked off from the ground. She was the older one, even if only by a matter of minutes. Old bat indeed!



Link was dragged a long way through the compound. It was only about halfway through the trek that he finally stopped raving like a madman. Neither of the guards was paying him any attention and he was fairly certain that he was now out of Nebekah’s hearing range. He wondered if she had understood what he said. Then again, Link wasn’t entirely sure he understood what had just happened.

That young girl in blue, Mika, had the exact same sort of tattoo that he had sported on his wrist for as long as he could remember. As crazy as it seemed, she had to be his sister. He couldn’t quite wrap his mind around that. After a lifetime of being the singled out loner, he had suddenly discovered a sister he never thought to know. Or was his mind playing tricks on him? He had seen the blue lines under her skin, he was certain. Was there any other explanation? It was so utterly bizarre that it simply had to be true.

How had she ended up living among the Gerudo of all people? That part didn’t make sense. Was she aware that she wasn’t one of them? He supposed she had to be, but it seemed of little consequence to any of the other women he had seen her interacting with. If she was a Gerudo trainee, she had to be somewhere around twenty, a few years older than Link himself.

A sudden, unexpected thought occurred to him that filled his heart with an overwhelming sense of possibility. If she was older than him, it was possible that maybe, just maybe, she had some memory of their parents. Link had always been desperate to know about where he had come from, to find some hint of his own origins. Now, finding the answers seemed not only likely and within reach, but he was overwhelmed with the joy of knowing that he’d have someone, finally, to share that history with. He had a sister!

His joy was short lived though, as he remembered the way she had looked at him. She had carried such contempt in her eyes, such hatred, merely due to the fact that he happened to be a boy. She had asked to kill him off hand, for no reason other than the fact that he was male. This wasn’t going to be easy. Did she even know what the blue lines meant? Would he be able to explain it to her? Suddenly, everything seemed a lot more daunting.

Fortunately, Link was distracted when he suddenly realized that one of the guards and let go of his arm. He looked to see her unlocking an iron animal cage. Sitting on the floor of the cage was a handsome young man with a long auburn ponytail, watching the scene with a detached boredom. “Oh, you’ve brought me a cellmate,” he said dryly. “I hope he’s housebroken.”

“Shut up,” one of the guards grunted as Link was thrust into the cage. “Do not speak to us.”

“Gladly,” he replied.

The cage was locked and with two disdainful glares, the guards left, their footsteps fading away in the darkness of the compound. Link turned to look at his cellmate. “Tyro?” he asked tentatively.

The other man frowned. “Have we met?”

“Are you Tyro?”

“That’s my name,” he replied. “Unless you happen to be a courtesan named Darla in which case my name is –”

“This is wonderful!” Link cried.

“It is?”

“I’ve been looking for you.”

“Looking for me?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“Your uncle, Talon, he sent me to find you.”

Tyro raised his eyebrows. “Did he?”

“Yeah.”

“And here I thought no one would notice I was gone. Except for Darla, of course.”

“He’s been worried sick about you.”

“Well, that’s awfully nice of him.” Tyro paused, examining Link. “And…who are you?”

“My name is Link.”

“Link?”

“Yes.”

“As in…the Hero of Time?”

Link hid a scowl. “Yeah. That’s me.”

“Huh. And here I thought old Talon was only lying when he said he knew you personally.”

“Well, you could say that.”

Tyro narrowed his eyes slightly. “You’re not courting my cousin Malon, are you?”

“Uh…” Link suddenly felt some heat rise in his cheeks.

“Wow,” Tyro went on, not bothering to wait for an answer. “The Hero of Time sent to rescue lowly little me. I’m flattered.” He paused, “Although…you don’t seem to be doing a very good job of it. Unless this is part of your plan, being captured by the Gerudo and tossed into the cage with me.”

“Not exactly,” Link admitted stiffly. “Things got a bit out of hand.”

“Clearly.”

“What are you doing out here in the Gerudo Valley, Tyro? It’s dangerous.”

Tyro shrugged. “After my father died, I went through some of his old diaries. I read that my mother had been taken by the Gerudo when I was a baby. I thought I would try to find her.”

Link frowned. “Looks like we have something in common,” he muttered, more to himself than to Tyro.

“What do you mean by that? Aside from the obvious dashing good looks we’ve both been endowed with.”

There was certainly no reason to hide it. Link shrugged. “I just found out that my sister is one of the Orca.”

“Really?”

“Yeah.”

He scowled. “I hope it’s not a little blond named Alcia,” he said softly.

“No.”

“Which one then?”

“I think they called her Mika.”

He blinked. “Pretty girl with her hair wrapped in blue?”

“That’s the one.”

Tyro patted his shoulder. “I’m so sorry for you, mate.”

“You know her?”

“We’ve met,” Tyro replied.

“That’s bad?”

“Well,” Tyro drawled, “she’s pretty far gone.”

“Far gone? What do you mean?”

“The whole Gerudo philosophy of ‘men bad, women good’ seems pretty engrained in her.”

“Not all Gerudo are like that,” Link said. “My friend Nebekah –”

“Well, these Gerudo are like that, I’m afraid,” Tyro cut him off. “Mika really hates men.”

“I noticed that,” Link muttered. “She asked permission to kill me.”

“I’m not surprised.”

“Now, I’m supposed to fight her in some kind of initiation.”

“Oh,” Tyro said, “that’s bad.”

“Yeah, I know.”

“It means she has to kill you to join the ranks of her man hating companions. And she’ll be eager to do it.”

“Is there any way around it?”

He shrugged. “Only killing her.”

“That’s not an option.”

“I figured as much.”

“What am I going to do?”

“Wish I had an answer for you,” Tyro said sincerely.

“I have to tell her,” Link sighed.

“Tell her what?”

“That she’s my sister. She doesn’t know.”

“Oh.”

“I guess I won’t get a chance until this initiation.”

“They’re not great conversationalists while they’re trying to kill you,” Tyro mumbled.

“I’ll figure out something,” Link vowed.

“Well, of all the Gerudo here, I’m sorry it had to be her.”

“She’s really that bad?”

Tyro shrugged. “She tried to kill me. Clearly, the woman has no taste. No offense.”

“None taken,” Link answered automatically. “I’ll figure something out.”

“I just hope it will involve getting us the hell out of here.”

So did Link. Absently, he wondered, if worse came to worse, which mission he would pursue if he had to choose between them. He had promised Talon to retrieve Tyro, after all. And as a Hero, reluctant a hero as he might be, he was bound to serve others before himself. But for the first time, he stood to gain something. Given the choice between Tyro and Mika, Link felt completely torn as his head and his heart pulled him in opposite directions. Some hero, he thought glumly.



Nebekah raced through her bath as quickly as hospitality would allow her. She passed on several tempting morsels that were offered to her, though the smell tingled her nostrils and reminded her belly just how long it had been since she last ate. Quickly, she pulled back on her pale pink desert gear, wrapping a scarf around her long dreadlocks, and raced back to Medea’s receiving chamber with all haste.

She had seen the blue lines on Mika’s wrist, right before she put on a gauntlet. They were the last thing Nebekah ever thought to find when they came to the Orca to rescue Tyro. Nevertheless, she was certain that those meticulous blue lines were the ones she had accidentally seen on Link’s wrist earlier in the day. She certainly owed it to him to investigate.

She was none too pleased, as it was, with his current predicament. Sapphia’s improvisation was completely unnecessary and careless. And it might very well cost Link his life at the hands of a woman who might be his own sister. Stupid Kodiak. At the very least, Nebekah took comfort in the fact that she had managed to retrieve Link’s sword, which was nestled safely, along with her arrows, inside of her quiver.

Arriving in Medea’s chamber, Nebekah was gratified to see that she had beaten Sapphia. Medea was resting in her throne, being tended to by several lower ranking Gerudo girls who pampered her. Nebekah crossed her wrists in front of her chest and bowed deeply to her. “Alpha,” she said respectfully.

Medea gave a gesture of greeting, signaling for Nebekah to rise. “I trust our hospitality has been to your liking,” she said.

Inwardly, Nebekah kicked herself. She had gone through it far too quickly. “Everything has been perfect, Alpha,” she murmured carefully.

“Good,” Medea sighed.

“We apologize for the breach in protocol, arriving as we did,” Nebekah told her. “We, of course, came here first to seek you.”

“Mistakes will happen,” Medea said. “And your gift is certainly timely in its arrival.”

Nebekah felt her throat clench. “Is it?” she asked.

“I had been hoping to offer my daughter a chance at initiation,” Medea explained. “The boy seems a good match to her talents.”

How ironically true. “Your daughter is called Mika?” she questioned carefully, approaching the throne.

“Yes.”

“She’s a Thin Blood, is she not?” Nebekah knew this was a dangerous question to ask. Every Pride had a different stance on Thin Bloods, after all.

If Medea took offense however, she didn’t show it. “Din did not see fit to grant me with daughters of my own.”

“A divine mistake, I’m sure.”

“I adopted two abandoned Hylian girls many years ago.”

“Two?” Nebekah asked, her eyebrows rising.

“Mika and Alcia.” Medea broke off for a moment.

“How did you come by them?” It was a legitimate question, Nebekah told herself. Occasionally, fully grown women would join up with the Gerudo, but Thin Blood children were rare, except among the Kodiak who were known to raid villages and kidnap young girls on occasion.

“Mika was a gift,” Medea said, clearly choosing her words carefully, which only sparked Nebekah’s interest further. Before she could ask any additional questions, however, Medea continued. “Alcia was abandoned by her parents. Doubtlessly because she was firstborn and female. It happens from time to time. There is a ridge between Hyrule and Orca territory where many abandon their unwanted children. My Deltas travel there once a month to investigate.”

“I see,” Nebekah said. The thought of it turned her stomach.

“I raised them together,” Medea sighed sadly. “Mika always had great promise. She tried so hard to help Alcia but…”

“But?” Nebekah prompted gently.

“You arrived at an inopportune moment,” Medea muttered. “As I was laying my child to rest.”

“You mean Alcia…?”

Medea nodded. “It is a terrible thing to outlive one’s children.” She glanced at Nebekah curiously. “Do you have any children, Nebekah?”

“No, Alpha,” Nebekah replied. “Not yet.”

“You never believe it possible to love anything so much,” Medea told her wistfully. “I loved Alcia for the moment I looked into her eyes to the moment that man closed them.”

“Man, Alpha?”

“She died during her initiation.” Medea shook her head. “I wish I could blame it on that man, I do. But I can’t. What happened was an accident really. She ran headlong onto a blade. He’s innocent.”

“What do you intend to do with this man?” Nebekah asked. She found it rather likely that this was Link’s friend Tyro.

“I hope never to lay eyes on him again,” Medea admitted.

“I can take him off your hands for you,” Nebekah said. “My Pride lives close to Hylian territory. I’ll be more than happy to return him there.”

“I give him to you,” Medea replied with a wave of her hand.

Nebekah bowed. “Thank you, Alpha.”

“Do with him as you please.”

Footsteps quickly heralded the arrival of Sapphia. She had clearly taken full advantage of the Orca hospitality, looking much cleaner and restful than before. She crossed her wrists before her chest and bowed deeply to Medea. “Alpha.”

“Sapphia, welcome. You look rested.”

“I am,” Sapphia answered, standing up again.

“Well, as the rites of hospitality have now been observed, I must know what has brought about this sudden alliance between the Jaguar and the Kodiak.”

“It is,” Sapphia said slowly, “a matter of grave importance.”

“Tell me,” Medea insisted.

“My Alpha, most illustrious, Sarjenka,” Sapphia started. Nebekah snorted. Illustrious Sarjenka had stepped down from her position at Ganondorf’s first whim, obeying him as he swept horror across the Gerudo Valley and beyond. Sapphia continued, doing her best to ignore the look on Nebekah’s face, “My Alpha was recently visited.”

“By whom?” Medea asked.

“The Twinrova sisters,” Sapphia replied.

Medea blinked in surprise. “Koume and Kotake?”

“Yes.”

“But I thought they were dead.”

“So did I,” Nebekah couldn’t help but add.

“So did we all,” Sapphia said with a shrug. “My Alpha included. It was certainly a surprise.”

Medea leaned forward in her throne, resting her hands on the armrests. “What did they have to say?”

“They want to reassemble the Topaz.”

There was a collective gasp from everyone in the room. “The Topaz,” Medea repeated.

“Yes, Alpha.”

“To what end?”

“They did not say. The Alpha promptly had them, say we say, escorted from her chambers.”

A fierce smile spread across Medea’s lips. “A wise decision on her part,” she muttered.

“She promptly sent messengers to each of the other Prides to warn them of what had happened. I was sent to you, as Beta, I was deemed most appropriate messenger to our primary Gerudo allies.”

“The message and the messenger are well received,” Medea told her.

Sapphia turned, looking at the empty pedestal. “I can’t help but notice that your Shard is absent.”

“It has been for some time. When news reached us of the trouble in Hyrule last year, I moved it to a more secure location. I could not trust it to be left in the open and unguarded.”

“A wise precaution, Alpha.”

Medea bridged her fingers. “This is most distressing news.”

“What do you think the sisters have in mind?” Nebekah chimed in.

“I can’t say for certain,” Medea admitted. “But doubtless it’s something base. After all, they were quite instrumental in the near inversion of the Gerudo way.” Nebekah noted that Medea’s eyes flickered in Sapphia’s direction. Doubtless, she too held certain reservations about the Kodiak’s role in Ganondorf’s rise, though as Alpha she would not say so. “I must say, I find it very upsetting to learn that the sisters are alive once again.”

“It takes ancient magic to raise anything from the dead,” Nebekah said.

“Which means it will probably take ancient magic to send them back where they belong,” Medea concluded.

“What do you think can do that?” Sapphia asked.

Medea did not answer, but Nebekah noticed her eyes travel in the direction of the empty pedestal with its cryptic message. As much as Nebekah admired Medea, she hated to think that Medea had the Topaz in mind. No one Gerudo could be trusted with it, not while the Prides were in such hostility. Even Nebekah herself, she had to admit, would be tempted to use its great power against the Kodiak, out of revenge. But if the Topaz and its ancient magic was required to defeat Twinrova again, she had to admit, she knew the one person who could be trusted with such power. She only hoped he would live long enough to start a second quest.



Link could only assume it was sunrise when the guards returned to get him. With a wry smile and a less than comforting “Don’t die” from Tyro, he was led back through the maze of the Orca compound, all the way to the floor of the arena where he saw that it was indeed sunrise. And hopefully, not his last.

Around him, up high in the stands, the entire Orca pride had assembled, beating steadily on hide drums and dancing, singing wildly in a language that Link couldn’t recognize. Some party. He supposed that initiations didn’t happen all too often, given the lack of men in the area.

Standing around the sides of the arena were the young girls he had seen around the pyre last night, each one dressed in a different color. They seemed very solemn and serious for people so young. Link guessed that not one of them was older than twenty. He wondered how old someone had to be before the initiation. Clearly, around Mika’s age. As he scanned the arena, he caught sight of her, opposite of him, holding two curved blades, one in each hand. On seeing her again, he found the resemblance striking. She really did look a lot like him with her heart-shaped face and her all too delicate eyebrows. What color was her hair under those wraps?

Unfortunately, now was not the time to wonder about such things. Medea appeared, flanked on either side by Sapphia and Nebekah. The music stopped at the sight of Medea, lifting her arms. “Though we mourn for the loss of Alcia,” she said thickly, “life goes on.” Link wondered if she genuinely believed that. “Today, my sisters,” she declared, “Mika joins our ranks as a Gerudo warrior.” An overwhelming swell of applause rose from the stands. Mika was apparently quite popular among the Orca Pride, Link realized. “She will today become a Delta warrior. The sacrifice has been brought forward.”

Link sighed. He was the sacrifice, of course. “Not if I can help it,” he muttered to himself.

Medea made her way over to Link, accompanied by Sapphia and Nebekah, both of whom had the good grace to appear deeply concerned for his well being. “I am told that you are quite capable with a sword,” she said in sotto.

“I guess so,” Link replied, not wanting to hurt her feelings. After all, she had raised his sister as her own. She couldn’t really be the monster that she paraded as for the benefit of the Pride.

She nodded to Nebekah. Swift, Nebekah reached over her shoulder and produced Link’s own sword from her quiver. “You may fight with your own weapon,” Medea said as Nebekah held it out to him.

“I don’t want to fight,” Link said, although he accepted his sword gratefully, giving Nebekah a nod.

“My daughter must earn her place among our people,” Medea said.

“Your daughter is my sister,” Link insisted, but Medea had already turned away from him to face the opposite end of the arena.

“Mika,” she called, obviously not hearing Link, who moaned desperately, looking to Nebekah for help. “Are you ready to serve the Gerudo nation?”

She stepped forward, crossing her blades in front of her chest. “I am ready,” she told Medea in a cold voice.

“Until this point, you have fought only women. Now you will defeat the true enemy.” Medea clapped her hands together. And again. And again. Everyone in the crowd began clapping, beating out a steady rhythm as the Alpha and the two Betas backed away to the sidelines, leaving Link and Mika face to identical face. “Begin,” Medea called in time with the sturdy clapping.

At once, Mika bounded toward Link with surprising agility. Deftly, she threw two thrusts, one with each blade, forward at his neck. Link parried the blows with relative ease. He was more than capable with a sword. “Listen,” he said, stepping back and out of range, “I need to say something.”

“No talking,” Mika declared, matching his steps and taking another offensive attack that Link dodged.

“This is important, hear me out, Mika.”

“You have nothing important to tell me.”

“I do,” he said, blocking another attack.

“You’re a man. Men are only good for two things.”

“Mating and dying, I get that.” Link backed away again, trying to get out of range, but Mika followed him stubbornly. “What harm can it do if you hear what I have to say?”

“Fight me!” Mika insisted.

“Will you calm down?” he asked.

She advanced, slicing her blades in opposite directions like scissors. “Don’t talk to me like that!”

“Okay, okay!” Link cried, narrowly escaping the sharp swords. “I’m sorry. Listen, I just –”

“Stop talking and fight me!”

“Those lines on your wrist,” Link said, noticing much to his chagrin that she had covered them up with a gauntlet. “Where did they come from?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about!” she shouted.

So that was the game. “I saw them, Mika. The tattoo. Blue. Those were given to you when you were a child.”

“Shut up!” He had clearly struck a nerve with this, because her swings got a bit sloppy, as though she desperately wanted to shut him up before some emotions could boil over inside of her.

“Your parents marked you,” he insisted.

“I have no parents but Medea!” she declared.

“That’s not true,” Link said. “You had a mother and a father. And they were Hylian. Like you. Like me.”

“I am Gerudo!”

“Now, maybe, but you weren’t born that way.”

“Silence!” she roared. She swung her right blade at him. Link caught it with his, swinging it up so both of their hands were in the air.

“I know it’s true,” he said fiercely.

“Stop saying that,” she cried, attempting to hack into him with her left handed blade.

Link caught her wrist, holding it away from his body. “I know it’s true,” he repeated, “because they did the same thing to me.”

“Liar!” she screamed.

“It’s the truth,” he said.

Mika delivered a fierce head butt to Link’s forehead. It was so abrupt, he did not have time to defend himself. Dizzily, he dropped her wrist and stumbled back, cradling his cranium in his hands. Mika took advantage of his weakness to surge forward, brandishing her swords like scissors again. Link did the only thing he could think of; he dropped to the ground. It was so unexpected that Mika was unable to stop herself. Powered by momentum, she continued to run, tripping over Link’s prone form and performing a fantastic belly flop into the sand.

He rolled over and sat up, holding his temple with one hand. His head was aching severely now, tiny stars of pain shooting up in front of his eyes. Mika had taken a mouthful of sand and was now trying to get it out of her face. Link grabbed hold of his gauntlet with his teeth and ripped it off, spitting it to one side. He thrust his arm forward, the incriminating blue lines standing out sharply in contrast to his pale Hylian skin. “Look,” he said.

Mika looked ready to grab a sword and slice his hand off, but even she couldn’t help but notice the strange tattoo. Her throat caught in her chest as she stared down at it. Meanwhile, the onlookers in the stands grew restless, unable to see or hear what was going on. “Where did you get that?” Mika asked him hesitantly.

“My parents gave it to me when I was a baby,” he said quietly. “It’s just like yours.”

She looked torn, some of the ferocity ebbing away from her eyes. Almost absently, she touched her wrist. “What does it mean?”

“I don’t know,” he answered with a slight shrug. “It’s a glyph. You have the other half.”

Hesitantly, Mika took off her gauntlet. She thrust forward her wrist, holding it up next to his. As Link had predicted, the lines seem to connect, completing the glyph. “What does it say?”

Link examined it with a wry smile. “It’s the Hylian symbol for peace,” he told her.

With a gasp, Mika pulled her arm back, slowly getting to her feet. She backed away from Link as if he were some kind of parasite she was afraid of touching. “No,” she whispered, “this can’t be.”

“What’s going on here?” a voice asked. Medea had moved to the center of the arena, followed by Nebekah and Sapphia, both looking curiously concerned.

“How is this possible?” Mika demanded, holding up her wrist and then pointing to Link on the ground.

Medea looked from Mika to Link, her eyes growing wide as saucers. “The Hero of Time,” she hissed softly.

“What?”

“On your feet,” Medea told Link. “You two come with me.”



Medea led Link and Mika down a long, twisting hallway. Nebekah and Sapphia followed with furrow brows, their similar expressions leading them to forget their differences. All along the way, Mika continued to toss glances at Link that varied from furious to startled, leaning more and more toward the latter as they went. For his own part, he didn’t know what to say. He bit his lips together, occasionally looking behind to make certain Nebekah hadn’t abandoned him.

They arrived in what appeared to be a private bedchamber, flanked only by a solitary guard, the first they had seen along the trek. The rest of the Orca remained in the packed arena, doubtlessly confused. “Inside,” Medea instructed the four of them. “Remain at your post, Lynxana,” she told the guard before following them in and closing the door.

“What’s the meaning of this?” Mika demanded passionately. “He can’t possibly be my brother.”

Sighing softly, Medea walked over to Mika, putting her hands on the girl’s shoulders. She didn’t answer, but instead turned to Link. “Why are you here?” she asked. “Did you come to take her?”

“No,” Link replied. “I only came to find Tyro.”

“Tyro?”

Nebekah cleared her throat. “The man you gave me.”

Medea nodded slightly. She walked over to the door and opened it a crack. “Lynxana, bring me the other prisoner.” And without waiting for a reply, she closed the door again.

“My parents abandoned me!” Mika shouted. “They didn’t mark me because they wanted me to be found. They didn’t want me at all.”

“That isn’t true,” Medea said sharply. “You didn’t come from the abandoned ridge, you came to me for safe keeping.”

This time, Mika’s eyes went wide. “What?”

Suddenly, Medea looked much older than she was. She sank down onto a soft pile of pillows, rubbing her forehead. “You were brought to me after your parents were killed during a Kodiak raid,” she said, casting a sideways glance to an indignant Sapphia. “The raid was conducted because they were seeking a child.” She gestured to Link. “This young man, when he was nothing more than a baby. After your parents were killed and it became clear that he would play an instrumental role in the future, you were brought to me to be protected. In time, prophecy proved true. The boy with the other half of the tattoo became the Hero of Time.”

“Why haven’t you told me this?” Mika asked softly.

“It wasn’t important. It was safer if no one knew your connection to the Hero of Time. Lest Dragmire come after you.”

“Then it’s true,” Mika muttered. “He’s my brother.”

“It’s true,” Medea sighed. “And you cannot kill him.”

“Then I can’t be initiated into the Pride,” Mika whispered.

The door to the room swung open and Tyro was pushed, none too gently, inside. “Thank you, Lynxana,” Medea called to the guard. “Wait outside.” The door was closed again.

Tyro glanced at Mika. “We meet again.”

“Shut up,” she spat.

Medea addressed Link. “This is what you came for?”

“Yes,” he replied.

“Do with him what you will. I’ve given him to Nebekah. You four are free to leave.”

Sapphia cleared her throat delicately. “Alpha, I’m afraid that what I told you about Twinrova is true. That’s the reason why I was sent here, not to rescue the boy.”

“Twinrova?” both Link and Mika said at the same time.

“The sisters are alive,” Sapphia said. “And in search of the Topaz Shards. They want to assemble it again.”

Medea folded her arms. “Mika, you will be initiated into Orca Pride.”

Mika glanced sideways at Tyro. “Shall I kill him?”

“Hey!” Tyro cried in protest.

“No,” Medea said. “I have a far greater challenge to assign to you.”

“What?” she asked curiously.

“The Twinrova sisters are alive, and seeking the Gerudo Topaz. I’m sure their intentions are hardly benign. They must be stopped.” She paused before going on. “It took great magic to bring them back from the dead. It will take great magic to destroy them again. The Gerudo Topaz is great magic.”

Link frowned. “What are you saying?”

“Mika, I charge you with a serious task. You will travel to the other Prides and assemble the pieces of the Topaz before the sisters can.”

Her face blanching, Mika blinked in shock. “Me? Stop the Twinrova sisters and assemble the Topaz?”

“It must be done,” Medea said sadly. She stood up and crossed the room, going around to the far side of her bed, plump with goose feather pillows. She picked up one of the pillows, a deep shade of blue, and took out a sword, at once slicing it open. Feathers went flying. She forced her hand into the depths of the pillow and from it, produced a small sliver of dark amber glass, glowing slightly of its own volition. That had to be her Shard. Holding it close to her chest, she returned, gently placing it in Mika’s hand. “And you are the most capable warrior of Orca Pride. I believe you can do it. No one else can.”

“But I’ve never left our territory. I don’t know anything about the other Prides and their lands.”

“I can help,” Nebekah offered suddenly. “I’ve been to all of the other Pride territories.”

“Will you guide my daughter?” Medea asked her.

Nebekah crossed her arms in front of her chest and bowed. “I will.”

“I’ll go with them,” Sapphia said. “I’m the one who saw the Twinrova sisters. I’m the one who can attest to their intentions.”

Aside from a small sneer from Nebekah, there were no objections. “Well, I’m going too,” Link said. Although the demons of his memory laughed and snickered at him, somehow, he knew this was another adventure he had to take. After all, he had just found a sister.

“What about him?” Nebekah wondered, jerking her thumb in the direction of Tyro.

“He belongs to you now,” Medea shrugged. “Do with him as you please. Or leave him.”

“I think I’ll tag along,” Tyro said quickly. “Better than staying here,” he added, mumbling under his breath.

“We’ll need supplies,” Nebekah said. “Water and blankets.”

“Follow me,” Medea said, heading to the door.

Tyro glanced at Nebekah. “So, I belong to you now?”

“Pretty much,” she replied.

“What does that mean, exactly?”

“That means,” she said, following Medea, “that you get to carry my stuff.”

“Wonderful,” Tyro muttered. He followed Nebekah and Medea as they made their way out and into the dark hallway.

Sapphia glanced at Link. “Coming?”

“I’ll be right there,” he told her. “Go ahead.” With a curious shrug, Sapphia followed the others out of the room, leaving Link and Mika alone.

They regarded each other with a guarded thoughtfulness for a time. “What now?” she asked finally, breaking the eye contact to place the Shard carefully into the inside of her boot.

“I don’t know,” he answered.

“I’ve had a hundred sisters my entire life,” she told him. “I’ve never had a brother.”

“Me too. Well, not the hundred sisters part. Or the brother part. I mean…” He rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. “This is really unexpected. I knew you existed but I never thought that…”

“This doesn’t mean that we’re automatically friends,” she said testily.

“Oh no, of course not.”

Mika nodded. “Good.”

“But maybe?”

She scowled. “Maybe.”

“I guess that’s something.”

“Yeah.”

Again, they fell silent for a moment. “Can I ask you a question?”

“I guess so.”

Link frowned. He didn’t know why, but he suddenly felt awkwardly embarrassed. “Do you…”

“What?”

“Do you remember our parents?”

“Well, I…” Mika trailed off.

“What?”

“I don’t know exactly.”

“What do you mean?”

“Sometimes, especially when I was younger. I used to get these…I don’t know what to call them. Flashes? Dreams? Something like that?”

“What did you see?”

“A pretty blond woman. She wasn’t doing anything. Just sort of staring down at me. I never really knew who she was.”

“Well,” he said, “That’s something too.” He rubbed his head absently. It still hurt from where she had delivered a powerful blow. The girl had a lot of strength. “Listen, Mika…”

“Yes?”

“I want you to know, I don’t expect anything from you. I mean, just because you’re my sister. You don’t have to like me, not if you don’t want to. But I hope that maybe you’ll give me the chance to show you I’m a decent fellow. It’s totally up to you if you chose to like me or not.”

“Do you really mean that?”

“Yeah, I do.”

Mika smiled ever so slightly. It was the first time Link had seen her do so and he had to admit that it made her look like an entirely different person. “All right, I’ll give you that chance,” she said.

Link held out his arm. “Deal?”

“Deal,” she said. She reached out and clasped him around the wrist, giving him a strong, sturdy shake. Each held a tattoo in their palm. Peace was between them.

Link was in hell. Not literally, of course, though he imagined the climate was comparable. He stood between two great and angry forces, two metaphorical tidal waves, ready to crash and destroy everything in between them, namely, him. Before him, leading the pack across the arid desert, walked Nebekah and Sapphia, the twin Betas of the group, representing the Jaguar Pride and the Kodiak Pride respectively. These great titans, sworn enemies on principle, threw insults at each other faster than a game of bag mitten in the royal courtyard. At stake, however, was something more than a shuttlecock. It was a matter of honor to them.

“If the Kodiak had bothered to stand up to Dragmire,” Nebekah insisted, “then I imagine the Gerudo nation wouldn’t be so universally hated among the people of Hyrule.”

“Well, you’d know,” Sapphia snapped. “After all, only the Jaguar would deign to live so close to the filth that comes out of Hyrule.”

“We live in peace with our neighbors,” Nebekah declared.

“If by peace, you mean total submission. Tell me, when’s the last time the Jaguar won a battle?”

“When’s the last time the Kodiak refrained from violence?”

If that wasn’t bad enough, Link also had to contend with a second storm front, raging behind him with equal ferocity. Defending the rear came Mika and Tyro, the former Link’s estranged sister, the latter a boy Link had come to rescue from the clutches of the Gerudo at the behest of Talon. If anything, these two were far worse than Nebekah and Sapphia. At least they had something in common, a Gerudo upbringing, no matter how different the clans contended to be. Tyro and Mika had only one thing in common, a mutual hatred for the other’s ancestry.

“I told you,” Mika insisted, “the Orca do not kidnap women.”

“Of course you’d say that,” Tyro sneered. He had come to the Gerudo Valley on his own, after reading his father’s diaries and discovering that his mother had, in fact, been taken by the Gerudo. He could not bring himself to see the difference between Prides.

“Typical man,” Mika hissed. “Convinced the world revolves around you and your conspiracies.” Mika, by contrast, had grown up among the Gerudo and could not bring herself to see men in any other light except the one she had been taught. To her Pride, the Orca Pride, they served two purposes, reproduction and initiation into the Pride by blood.

Link wouldn’t have minded the arguments so much, save for the fact that by this point, both sets of contenders had run out of new barbs and insults, therefore repeating the old ones and returning to the same arguments again and again. The journey to the territory of the Saber Tooth Pride had been consistently noisy. Link was only grateful that, by this point, it was unlikely that news of their quest had been far spread. They were traveling to the Saber Tooth to collect a second Shard, a piece of the shattered Gerudo Topaz which, according to myth, when assembled created a powerful magical stone that was apparently a weapon. It simply had to be one, because Twinrova was after it.

Over and over again, Link remembered the cryptic engraving he had found on the pedestal to for the first Shard, safely kept in Mika’s boot. …‘One thing stands between the stone and the grave…’ He did not like the sound of that. Perhaps he would have felt more comfortable, knowing what that one thing was. Sadly, that was the total extent of the information he had gleaned about the Topaz, other than the story of its initial separation which Nebekah had provided, being something of an expert on the Gerudo nation in general.

“Hey, Nebekah,” he called, realizing that her skills could be put to better use than a continued verbal spar with Sapphia.

“What?” she snapped. Immediately, she looked guilty. Nebekah had been Link’s friend for awhile now. They had met as children when he first ventured into the Gerudo Valley, and then years later, during his quest to vanquish Ganondorf, an ordeal Link very much wished to forget, but knew that he never would. “Sorry, blondie,” she told him apologetically.

“How far are we from the Saber Tooth territory?” he asked, accepting her guilty look for an apology.

“We’re already in it,” she said.

Link immediately tensed, looking nervously around the seemingly deserted savannah. “So how come Tyro and I haven’t become arrow magnets yet?”

“Don’t worry,” Nebekah told him, a slight smile cracking her stoic face. “The Saber Tooth don’t kill men on sight.”

“Cowards,” Mika mumbled.

“Why not?” Link persisted.

“The Saber Tooth have a unique method of ensuring the continuation of their line,” Nebekah explained.

“Wait a second,” Tyro interrupted. “I think I’ve heard of them. Aren’t they supposed to be the most beautiful Gerudo out there?” Of course, Tyro would know, being a bit of a playboy back in the Hylian village of New Kasuto where he had grown up.

“Some people say so,” Nebekah answered.

“Oh yeah,” Tyro drawled. “I’ve heard of these girls.”

“They have the purest line of Gerudo blood,” Sapphia added.

Nebekah gave her a brief glare before continuing. “The Saber Tooth allow men to come to their fortress freely.”

Link screwed up his face. “Why?”

“Well, being the most beautiful of Gerudo,” she told him, “men often seek them for mates.”

“Naturally,” Tyro scoffed.

“Shut up,” Mika snapped at him.

“What happens when a man shows up?” Link cut in quickly before another argument could ensue.

“Well, they’re treated as honored guests,” Nebekah said. “And after spending a few days among the Saber Tooth, generally, they will have selected the one they wish to mate with.”

“Then what happens?”

“Then,” he said, “a fight happens.”

“A fight,” Link repeated uncertainly.

“The man challenges the woman he wishes to mate with to a fight. It’s held before the entire Pride. If the woman wins, then she cuts his throat and bathes in his blood. Apparently, that’s where the Saber Tooth believe they draw their unnatural beauty from.”

“That’s disgusting,” Tyro droned.

Nebekah nodded. “Yes. Although there is a basis for that kind of belief, actually.”

“A basis,” Link repeated. “What do you mean?”

“There are ancient spells, dating all the way back to the time of Gerudo unity, glamour spells, beauty spells. They all require blood.” Nebekah shrugged. “Which is probably how the Twinrova sisters managed to stay young so long. It wouldn’t surprise me if the Saber Tooth actually believed that blood restored beauty.”

“And what happens if the man wins the fight?” Tyro asked.

“If the man wins,” Nebekah said, “then he is allowed to mate with the woman he has defeated.”

“And then sent packing on his merry way?” Tyro scoffed.

“Well, as far as I understand it, there are a few things that may or may not happen to him.”

“Like what?”

Nebekah frowned. “That depends very much on if the women he has defeated likes him.”

“Ladies choice,” Tyro mumbled.

“If she likes him,” Nebekah continued, “then once they produce a daughter, the Gerudo may leave the child in the care of the Pride and then return to Hyrule with her mate to be married.”

Link blinked. “And then return for the daughter, right?”

She shook her head. “No. The deal is, if a woman wants to marry, she has to leave the Pride. And if she wants to leave the Pride, she has to provide her own replacement.”

“Oh.”

“And since all the Saber Tooth are full Gerudo, all their children will naturally be female. So the firstborn can serve as a replacement for anyone who wants to leave and marry.”

“That is so messed up,” Tyro muttered.

“For once I agree,” Mika said. “Who’d want to allow a man to –”

“Don’t knock it until you try it,” Tyro cut her off.

“What happens if she doesn’t like the guy?” Link wondered.

“Well,” Nebekah said with a shrug, “then after they mate, she sends him away, alive and well. She stays where she is. If a child happens to be produced, it is raised among the Gerudo and nothing really changes.”

Link scowled suddenly. “Nebekah, they aren’t going to expect me and Tyro to challenge a warrior, are they? I mean, once we arrive at the fortress?” He gestured ahead to the fortress which was now looming, a solid gray mass with very little decoration and no windows.

“I doubt it, blondie,” Nebekah said.

“I think I’m through fighting these insane girls,” Tyro said firmly. Although his tone was glib as ever, Link felt he could detect a certain resentment buried within. He had not learned all the details, but what he had managed to glean, so far, was that Tyro had been forced to fight a young Gerudo called Alcia, who had been a close friend to Mika and who had died, not by Tyro’s hand, but by accident. Link could still remember his first kill and rather wished he didn’t. It must have been even more difficult for Tyro. True, he hadn’t really killed Alcia, but she had been a person, not a monster.

“Good to know,” Link said.

“You two should be relatively safe,” Nebekah assured him. “The Saber Tooth are much more tolerant of men than any other Pride. They allow men free access to their stronghold, provided that they obey the rules, and such.”

“Well, that’ll make this easier.”

“Do you think the Alpha will be willing to hand over her Shard?” Sapphia mumbled.

Nebekah shrugged. “Well, her name is Nassan. I’ve met her a few times. She’s pretty reasonable.”

“Good,” Link said, feeling his heart lighten considerably. Given all the trouble within his little group, he didn’t much care to have to deal with a crazy Gerudo on top of that.

By this point, they had reached the entrance to the fortress, a polished cherry oak door with images of beautiful women burned in, flanking either side of the words ‘Saber Tooth Pride.’ “They want you to know who you’re dealing with,” Tyro observed, his eyes scanning the gold letters. From the other side of the doorway, they could hear sitar music, twanging lazily over the chatter of voices. “Sounds like they’re having fun in there.”

“We’re not staying that long,” Nebekah told him.

“Killjoy.”

With a wry smile, Nebekah grabbed the handle and pulled the door open. Instantly, a wall of purple smoke came pouring out, causing the five of them to cough and fan it away from their faces. Link’s eyes stung, but he dared to open them, peering into the room as the fog thinned. The architecture seemed typical Gerudo: Stone walls and furniture, ample pillows of silk strewn about the room.

“This isn’t right,” Sapphia said.

“What?” Tyro asked.

As Link scanned the room though, he discovered it for himself. Although they had just been told that the Saber Tooth were decent toward men, there was clearly something amiss with the image before him. Lounging on the piles of pillows were dozens of men, mostly Hylian, most of them covered in scars and dressed in peasant garb. The Gerudo present were indeed as beautiful as they were rumored to be, most of them with long red hair and sharp blue eyes. They were dressed in skimpy, clinging dresses, not at all like the desert garb that Link was used to seeing on the Gerudo. There was something familiar about it, but Link couldn’t place it.

For a moment, he chalked the scantily clad women up to custom. He had never met the Saber Tooth before. Perhaps this was normal dress for them. But then he remembered that Nebekah had called them great warriors. Clearly they had to be if the only way to mate with one was to fight her. These dresses didn’t seem at all conducive to fighting. Nor did the many silver bangles adorning their wrists and ankles as they walked across the room, carrying trays filled with wine goblets and fresh fruit, the source of which Link could only guess at.

The women crossed the room, leaning over to offer various treats to the men resting on the pillows. But there was decidedly something amiss with this service. All of them seemed to be scowling, giving the men glares of pure hatred as if they would much rather plunge swords into their chests and serve them a snack. Even the sitar player, who Link spotted sitting on a pillow by the wall, seemed to be glaring hatefully at her instrument, as though she had absolutely no desire to continue playing it and would much rather use it to deliver a blow to the back of someone’s head.

Elsewhere in the room, Link noticed one of the men on a pillow pile had grabbed the arm of a passing girl, pulling her down onto his lap and kissing her. She looked ready to bite his face off, but instead, sat there, completely still, letting him have his way with her. Why didn’t she fight back? The man was going too far, his hand caressing her bottom as he deepened the kiss. Still, she remained completely still, compliant. Unlike any Gerudo Link had ever known.

“Nebekah,” he said quietly, unable to take his eyes off of the spectacle arrayed before him.

“Yeah?” she asked, equally shocked.

“Is this normal behavior for the Saber Tooth?”

“What do you think?”

“I think there’s something very wrong with this picture,” he said. And that’s when he realized what was so familiar about this scene. It didn’t look like a Gerudo fortress. It looked like a harem.



Koume paused to admire her work. At last, the new ice castle was complete. She had to admit, she had impressed even herself this time. Given how weak and addled the resurrection had made her, she was decidedly surprised that she had retained enough power to pull it off. True, the castle was nowhere near as grand as their dungeon had once been, but it would suffice until Ganondorf’s return. She had taken great pains to create a few separate rooms, in case unwanted visitors happened to show up. Also, she had made certain that the ice was frosted enough so that she could not see her own reflection in the surface. Old age was not something she looked upon with fondness and she had no desire to see her advanced state of decay. Hungrily, she thought of the great power she would wield again once Ganondorf was reborn. She would have her youth and so would Kotake.

She shivered bitterly. It was a bit unfair. While she was maintaining a new home base for them, Kotake was the one who was able to go out and oversee their operations. It was Kotake who had been the one to find their vessel, the Gerudo who would give birth to Ganondorf reborn and it was Kotake who arranged for the few amenities that Koume was unable to make out of ice for the fortress. Koume found herself feeling a bit stir crazy. She was spending far too much time on her own. After all, they hadn’t managed to procure so much as a Moblin. Not that Moblins were the greatest conversationalists, but still, Koume loathed being left to her own devices. All she would do is sit and brood over old age. And think. When she thought, dangerous little sparks of inspiration came to her.

A shimmering streak of orange appeared in the sky, descending as Kotake flew back through the open roof of the ice tower and down to the only remaining part of the old fortress, the floor. “You’re back early,” Koume told her, turning away from her work.

“It was much easier than expected,” Kotake replied haughtily as she dismounted from the broom.

“I’ve finished the fortress,” Koume said. She gestured grandly, raising both hands and sending small sparkles of ice from her fingertips in a silver shower of great triumph.

“Yes, I see that.”

“What do you think?”

Kotake took a grand total of five seconds to glance around at hours of painstaking work. “It will do,” she said.

Koume bristled. Typical of her sister. Taking no interest in the fine craftsmanship and the great care that had gone into the work. “It will do,” Koume repeated.

“Yes.”

“I see.”

Kotake then produced a rumpled old satchel from the end of her broom. “And I have the finishing touch!” she said triumphantly.

“What is it?” she asked in a dry, dead tone, lowering her tired old arms, and pulling her ragged shawl tighter around her neck.

From the satchel, Kotake removed a slim, white slab of marble. “A telepathy tile,” she said proudly displaying it. The early morning sunlight glinted off of the smooth surface.

Her nearly invisible eyebrows inched higher as she leaned forward. “You got one? Is that it?”

“No,” Kotake said dryly. “This is just a fake one.” There was a brief pause. “Yes! I got one.”

“Right.”

She scanned the room for a moment, then walked over to one of the ice walls. Her hand glowing with fire, she pressed it into the ice. Water began running down to the floor as a small alcove was melted. A soft sizzle filled the air. Once Kotake was satisfied, shaping the new grove with her hand, then she thrust the telepathy tile directly into it. “There,” she said.

Wordlessly, Koume walked over, carefully icing up the edges around the tile again, biting her tongue to keep from complaining about the hours of work spoiled by Kotake’s little fire. It was hard enough using magic to protect the palace against the elements of the desert. She didn’t need her pyromaniac sister destroying their new home now. “It should stay,” was all she said.

Kotake seemed to accept this. “Good. Now we can speak to the vessel with relative ease. I’ve told her to seek out telepathy stones in the other Gerudo strongholds. They each have one, I’m sure. If not, I imagine we’ll still be able to get brief messages through. You know how these things are. The weak minded are easy to connect with, telepathically. All she’d need to do is think about it.”

This perked Koume’s interest. “You’ve met with her?”

“Yes,” Kotake admitted. “Late last night, camping on the outskirts of Saber Tooth territory.”

“What have you learned?”

“There’s a fellowship of five traveling across the Valley to assemble the pieces of the Topaz before we do,” Kotake told her.

“Five? I thought it would just be the Hero.”

“A minor complication.”

“Who are the others?”

“The Betas of the Kodiak and the Jaguar, a young Orca trainee, and a boy from the Hylian village.”

Koume frowned. “Where do those last two come in?”

“Well,” Kotake muttered, “it seems that the Orca is actually the Hero’s long lost sister. Isn’t that just quaint?”

“Indeed.”

“She’s been charged with the task of assembling the Topaz for her rite of initiation. It’s too bad she’ll have to fail. She’s quite the little spitfire. Very impressive.”

“Do you suppose she could be of use to us?” Koume asked.

“It’s possible,” Kotake mumbled, shrugging her thin shoulders. “I certainly won’t rule it out just yet.”

“What about the village boy?”

Kotake laughed dryly. “Just someone in the wrong place at the wrong time. I imagine he’s nothing. Expendable. The girl is much more important right now. She has the first Shard.”

“She does?”

“Yes,” Kotake said, nodding gravely.

“Then we must see to it that our vessel gets a hold of the next one.”

“I have no doubt she will,” Kotake sighed. “Our little distraction with the Saber Tooth should keep everyone in that fellowship busy enough for her to sneak in and grab it.”

“I feel a bit guilty for what we did to them,” Koume admitted.

“Don’t,” Kotake snapped. “Guilt is a weakness and I won’t allow it. Besides, they deserve what they got. It serves them right for allowing men to come and go from a Gerudo fortress as they please.”

“Well, I suppose so,” she sighed.

“What shall we do now?”

“All we need to do now is wait.” With that, Kotake rolled up her ragged, smelly sleeve and pressed her palm to the telepathy tile. Turning to Koume, she jerked her head, indicating for her to do the same. Koume reached out, pressing her gnarled hand against the smooth white tile. Instantly, a warm, gentle feeling flooded her veins, making her feel as though her hand had become a part of the tile. She felt her mind expand, swelling to open up to the nature of Hyrule. She heard voices coming out of every village and town, every shack and stall, all the most intimate thoughts of Hylians everywhere. She would wait now, hoping to pick up on the voice of the vessel.



The five of them had not moved from the doorway in a good seven minutes. They stood there, staring in half horror, half fascination as the great female warriors of the Saber Tooth Pride catered to the whims of a few men, lying on their bottoms, most likely draining the supplies of the Pride. It was finally Sapphia who murmured, “We can’t just stand here.”

“What are we supposed to do?” Mika asked.

“Bring me a bowl of dates!” one of the men on a pillow shouted, holding his hand out to a Gerudo who seemed to be doing nothing but standing around. Instantly, as if someone had tied an invisible string to her navel, she jerked forward, like some kind of perverse puppet, picking up a tray of dates from a table and bringing it, most unwillingly, to the one who had given the command.

“Well, that’s odd,” Tyro deadpanned.

“Nebekah,” Link said, “Do you see the Alpha anywhere?”

Quickly, Nebekah’s bright blue eyes scanned the room. She shook her head. “No, I don’t.”

“Surely the Alpha would not approve of such behavior,” Mika said. “Catering to the demands of men.”

“Because it’s wrong to ever do a man a favor,” Tyro said.

Mika nodded. “Exactly.”

“That’s more than a favor,” Nebekah said.

Tyro rolled his eyes. He stepped forward, approaching a pretty young Saber Tooth, carrying a leather wine decanter to a stack of barrels, no doubt to refill it. “Hey,” he called out to her.

“What?” she snapped.

“Why are you doing this?”

“Doing what?”

“Serving these blokes.”

“Because they told me to,” she said angrily. “If I had my way, I assure you, I would gully you all.”

“Watch the way you throw around the word ‘you,’” he said. “You’re doing this because they told you to?”

“Yes.”

Tyro smirked, a small chuckle escaping at this ridiculous explanation. “Get out,” he laughed.

She looked at him serenely. “How far?”

He blinked, uncertain what to make of this question. “What?”

“How far do you want me to get out?” she asked.

“How far?”

“Fine, I’ll decide for myself.” And with that, she whirled around, her hair spinning about her body, and marched out of the front door which Link and the others had left open.

For a moment, Tyro was silent, watching her go with a blank expression on his face. “Well,” he finally said, “That was unusual.”

“You think?” Nebekah droned.

“Wait a second,” Link said slowly. “You told her to get out and she got out. Literally.”

“Yeah,” Tyro said.

Link’s mind was racing now. “And that guy over there ordered the girl to bring him a bowl of dates…”

“And she brought him a bowl of dates,” Tyro finished, catching on very quickly. “Bit of an odd coincidence.”

“Odd or not, I think it has significance.”

“What are you thinking?” Sapphia murmured. “They’re obeying the commands given to them?”

“Let’s try a little experiment,” Tyro said. He turned to Mika. “Go up to one of them and order them to do something.”

“What?” Mika asked.

“I don’t know, something ridiculous. Go order one of them to hop up and down on one foot.”

“I will not,” Mika said indignantly.

“It’s for the sake of science,” Tyro replied.

“Absolutely not,” she insisted.

Nebekah sighed. “I’ll do it.” With that, she turned, waving over a nearby Saber Tooth girl.

“You’re strangers,” the girl said.

“Just arrived,” Nebekah muttered. “Hop up and down on one foot.”

The Saber Tooth stared at her blankly. “What?”

“Hop up and down on one foot,” Tyro said.

Instantly, the Saber Tooth girl began to hop up and down on one foot, glaring daggers at Tyro. “Man scum,” she hissed.

“You can stop now,” Link said quickly.

The girl stopped hopping. “That wasn’t funny,” she insisted, still directing her hatred at Tyro.

“Hit him if you like,” Link mumbled.

With that, the girl struck Tyro in the face, turned around, and stormed away before she could be given any additional commands. Tyro rubbed his jaw indignantly. “Thanks a lot, Link.”

“I found that rather enjoyable,” Mika declared. She folded her arms. “Well, as fun as that little exercise was…”

“It taught us something,” Nebekah said.

“What?”

“It seems that the Saber Tooth women are obeying the commands of men,” Link told her.

“Whether they want to or not,” Sapphia added.

“What could cause that?” Mika asked.

“I doubt it’s a change of heart,” Tyro deadpanned.

“More likely, it’s a spell,” Link muttered.

“Who could cast a spell like that?” Nebekah wondered.

“That should be obvious,” Sapphia said. The others all turned to look at her. “Clearly, it’s the Twinrova sisters. They must know that we’re here.”

Link nodded. “She has a point.”

“Let’s have some music,” a rich, unusual voice said from across the room. “Play something.” At once, the sitar music began again. “Dance for us,” the man called and several of the nearby Gerudo began an exotic sand dance.

“I know that voice,” Tyro said. “And I don’t think I like it.”

The five of them turned to look across the room in the direction from which it came. Resting against an especially large stack of pillows was a slim man with rounded, Human ears. He appeared to be in his late twenties, quite tall, and quite muscular. His hair, long and chocolate brown, was pulled back in a ponytail, revealing a blackened burn, in the shape of a crescent moon, on his forehead. He sat, bare-chested, as an angry Saber Tooth massaged his back. Hungry eyes drank in the smooth curves of the warrior women as they danced unwillingly for him.

“Who is he?” Link asked.

“Ari Prospero,” Tyro supplied. “A local thug from the village. I’ve seen him before.”

“He’s not Hylian,” Nebekah noted.

“He’s a Risan,” Link said quietly.

Mika wrinkled up her forehead. “What’s a Risan?”

“There’s a small island kingdom to the west of Hyrule,” Link explained. “The people there are called Risans. They’re like Humans, only a bit stronger and faster and more aggressive.”

“How can you tell he’s not a Human?” Mika persisted.

“The symbol on his forehead,” Link said. “All Risans have a ritual at the age of fifteen. They get branded with a fire iron, a celestial shape on their forehead. They say it connects them to the lifeforce.” He glanced at Tyro. “I didn’t know that Risans were local thugs though.”

“No, not generally,” Tyro said. “He was banished from his homeland for stealing a priceless jewel or something. Now he runs a gang of bleeding lay-abouts. Always yammering about revenge.”

“What’s he doing here?” Sapphia whispered.

Tyro shrugged. “From what I understand, he fancies himself quite the lover. Probably thought he’d challenge a Saber Tooth.”

“How do you know this?”

“I know a courtesan named Darla very well.” Tyro scanned the room. “A lot of the other men are his thugs.”

“Well, he’s clearly made himself the alpha male,” Nebekah said.

“You know,” Sapphia added, “there aren’t a lot of Saber Tooth in here, relatively speaking.”

“You’re right,” Mika said.

“Where do you think the others are?”

Link didn’t know. “Either in the fortress or the territory, I guess.”

“Maybe we should find them,” Sapphia said. “See if they know anything more than we do.”

“That’s not a bad idea,” Link said. “We’ll split up.”

“I’ll go looking for Nassan,” Nebekah said. “She’s got to be in the fortress somewhere.”

“I’ll go with you,” Sapphia said instantly.

“Why? You don’t trust me with the Alpha?”

“The Jaguar would benefit from a second Shard now, wouldn’t they?” Sapphia countered bitterly.

“Fine,” Link cut in. “You two go looking for Nassan.” He sighed heavily, realizing what this meant. “Tyro, Mika, go searching the outer territory, see if you can find any others.”

Mika glared at Tyro. “But –”

“You need to take a man with you,” Link said, “in case someone tries to attack. He might be able to order it off.”

“Fine,” Mika said sulkily.

“What are you going to do, blondie?” Nebekah asked.

“I’ll stay here. See if I can learn anything else about this Ari guy.”



Being saddled with Tyro on this highly important quest was unpleasant. Being sent to work with him, one on one was completely unsatisfactory. Just who had died and left Link in command, Mika wondered. Still, as she marched across the sandy terrain of the Saber Tooth Pride’s territory, she had to admit that since the very beginning, when they first set off away from her home, everyone had always looked to Link to make all the decisions. He was simply the natural leader. Mika was having a hard time adjusting to it, frankly. Her entire life had seen nothing but women in command and she found it difficult to accept that Link was so capable after everything she had been taught about men.

Of course, it was still quite startling to realize that he was actually her brother, the blood of her blood. Stories of the Hero of Time had reached even the Orca, but they had been vague, shadowy at best. All too suddenly, Mika had learned that not only were the stories true, but these great deeds had been performed by her own flesh. With all of this sudden and abrupt knowledge, she had come to appreciate Link, man though he was. Tyro, on the other hand, was a different story.

Mika found everything about him utterly distasteful. He hated the Gerudo, which was a bad beginning. Beyond that, though, he was a typical man, everything she had ever been told about them. He was rude, demanding, self centered, quite arrogant, and clearly viewed women as subservient. Every time she looked at his irritatingly handsome face, she was filled with the urge to punch him. Out of respect for Link and her Gerudo sister Nebekah, she had refrained. They had first come to protect Tyro, after all. But left alone with him, she feared her patience would soon run out.

The landscape was turning rockier. Like the Orca Pride, the Saber Tooth Gerudo lived among the rock formations of the Gerudo Valley. It was only their front door that faced the sand. Mika was adept at scaling the rocks, using her arms and her fingers to propel herself forward onto the cliffs and plateaus. Tyro, by contrast, who had grown up in a wealthy suburb of North Castle, was having some difficulties.

“Slow down,” he whined.

“We’re on a mission, not a nature hike,” she said, neatly pulling herself onto a mesa of gray stone. She pulled an arrow out of her quiver and broke a single feather off of the shaft, resting it on the path to mark where they had been so they could find their way back.

“Tell me something,” Tyro droned as he hefted his carcass onto the flat. “Are you always this irritable?”

“I am not irritable,” she snapped.

“Oh, sure you’re not.” He slumped onto his heels, catching his breath, his shoulders heaving up and down. The pole arm, tied smartly to his back, stabbed up into the air with each breath.

“Get up.”

“I need to rest.”

“We have to keep moving.”

“In a minute,” he said.

Mika folded her arms. “Are you always this lazy?” she countered him with a cruel smile.

“Yes, actually,” he replied.

“I thought so.”

“Never lift a finger unless I have to,” he continued. “I much prefer good company to good work.”

“Typical.”

“You say that like you know the first thing about men.”

“I know everything I need to know about men,” she shot back.

“So you’re an expert on men?”

“Yes.”

“I see.” Tyro glanced up at her. “Tell me something, exactly how many men have you ever had a conversation with?”

“What?”

“How many men have you talked to?”

“Do you count as a man?”

“Let’s say I do.”

She paused. “Two,” she finally admitted.

“Then,” he said, “I submit that your earlier statement is false.”

“What do you mean?”

“You are not an expert on men.”

“How do you –”

“You cannot be an expert on men,” he continued, “if you’ve had such limited field experience.”

“Enough sophistry,” she sneered.

“Quite right. I’m well rested now.” With that, he rose to his feet, flinging his auburn ponytail back over his shoulder. “After you,” he said with a grand gesture forward.

“Hmmph,” she snorted, taking up the path once more.

“You know,” he said, following behind her. “I’ll admit that some men aren’t exactly wonderful. That Ari is a real sleaze. Believe me.”

“Right.”

“But you Gerudo aren’t exactly angels either.”

She whirled around so fast that the blue wraps around her hair flung around her neck. “What do you mean by that?”

“I mean,” he said calmly, “you don’t have the best of habits. Kidnapping innocent women. Kidnapping my mother.”

“I told you before!” she snapped. “We don’t kidnap women.”

“Maybe your Pride doesn’t,” he said, “but some do. I know my mother was taken. I’ve read it.”

“That’s another Pride. You can’t blame me for that.”

“No more than you can blame me for the faults of all men. What Ari does isn’t what I do.”

“I have plenty to blame you for,” she hissed.

“Oh really?”

“Yes.”

“And what is that?”

“You killed my sister,” she blurted out. The memory of Alcia’s death was still painfully fresh in her memory. Every time she closed her eyes, she saw it, her Gerudo sister with pale skin and a sweet smile, her eyes wide with shock as she realized that Tyro’s blade had impaled her directly through the middle.

“That wasn’t my fault,” Tyro insisted.

“You held the blade.”

“She ran onto it,” he declared coldly. “I had no desire to fight her at all. You know that.”

“Yes, you were a coward.”

“Maybe,” he answered. “But I didn’t take a single swing at her. What happened was her own doing.”

“That doesn’t change the fact that she should be here now instead of you. You don’t deserve to be alive.”

“You’re probably right, but I am alive now. And as far as her death is concerned, I’m blameless.”

“Fine, keep telling yourself that.”

“How about we make a deal,” he said.

“A deal?”

“I stop blaming you for my mother’s kidnapping if you stop blaming me for what happened to Alcia.” For emphasis, he held out his hand.

Mika glared at him. She would rather die than so much as touch his miserable, male skin. Still, for once, she would make an exception. With a sneer, she lashed out, knocking his hand away from her. “There are no accords between wolves and men,” she hissed.

“Oh, that’s very clever,” he drawled, lowering his arm. “Did you make that up all by yourself?”

She spat in his face. “Let’s go.” Without a second glance, she turned around, resuming her climb across the rocky Saber Tooth territory. She could hear Tyro wheezing behind her, attempting to keep up. Smiling wolfishly, she picked up the pace, moving as fast as she safely could over the stones. Perhaps he would fall to his death somewhere along the way. Mika would certainly lose no sleep over his demise and the others couldn’t possibly blame her for his fall, not if she didn’t push him, tempting though it was.

As she moved, she was disappointed to hear no further complaints, no further insults, and no falling sounds. In fact, when she looked down to take hold of a rock, she noticed his shadow, falling right over her hand. Perhaps, she mused vaguely, he was a little bit more than he seemed. If nothing else, the two men she had deigned to converse with were certainly full of surprises.



Link chewed on his thumb, looking around the smoke-filled room. His eyes watered and burned from the intense incense and a certain level of disgust. Perhaps he was a bit old fashioned, but he sensed something distinctly foul about these gentlemen beyond their suspicious faces. The way they looked at the Gerudo women made him sick. He tried as hard as he could not to let his imagination wander too wildly, but nevertheless, he could not escape certain smarmy images.

Carefully, he made his way through the room. None of the men seemed to pay him much attention. He supposed they took him for just another traveler who had stumbled upon their good fortune. The Gerudo women that took note of him merely glared and scurried away, perhaps before he could issue a command that was not to their liking. At the very least, this confirmed his theory about some kind of spell. Sapphia was probably right, too. It was probably the work of the Twinrova sisters. What didn’t make sense, as far as Link could tell, was that there didn’t seem to be any kind of motive. The sisters wanted the Topaz. Link did not see how this particular spell would get it for them. He could only assume, therefore, that the spell served another purpose. Was it a distraction?

“Well done, ladies,” Link mumbled under his breath. It seemed that Koume and Kotake knew him only too well. As hard as he tried to detach himself from his past heroics and from adventure, they had so brilliantly calculated that Link would feel honor bound to help, which he did, that he would put his quest for the other Shards aside to end the spell. He smiled grimly, half admiring their shrewd planning. Still, there remained a question. If this spell was the bait, where was the hook? Was it Ari? He was impressive, but Link was fairly certain he could easily take the street thug, if it came to fisticuffs.

Link turned around and immediately barreled into the person behind him. The two of them tumbled to the ground, accompanied by the clatter of silver and the splash of dark bloodwine. Disentangling himself from delicate purple silk, Link found himself on top of a Gerudo woman. She had dark hair for a Gerudo, interwoven with purple strips of linen. Her build was slim and powerful, her well toned muscles displaying several light purple tattoos of Gerudo design. Aside from her silk dress, she wore a purple headband around her forehead with a small, silver charm shaped like a crescent moon, which dangled between her eyes, immediately drawing attention to them. And they were perfectly lovely.

“Oh, sorry,” Link mumbled, quickly pulling himself up and away from her. Somehow, the distance did not make him feel any safer. She looked about ready to pounce.

“Watch where you’re going,” she hissed.

He leaned over and started picking up the fallen wine goblets, the bulk of the spilled wine being soaked up by his gauntlets. “The incense around here is a little strong. Is it always like that?”

She snatched a goblet out of his hand, giving him a glare. “No,” she said softly. “Nothing’s been the same since…”

“Since what?”

Her eyes narrowed and Link feared, for a moment, that she would refuse to answer him. “Since the men took over,” she said finally.

“When was that?”

“A few days ago.”

Link frowned. “What happened?”

“We’re not exactly sure,” she told him, picking up the other flagons and arranging them on a silver platter engraved with the Gerudo symbol.

“What happened?”

“One minute, it was business as usual. The next thing we knew, they were the ones giving the orders and we were obeying them.”

“And you don’t know what caused this?”

She shook her head, the linens in her hair giving off the faint scent of an exotic perfume that Link found particularly enjoyable. “It just happened,” she growled, standing up again.

He rose with her. “Well, it’s probably a spell.”

“A curse is more like it. I wish they’d leave us alone. I wish all pigs would leave us alone.”

“Pigs?”

“Men.”

“All men?” She didn’t reply, but only scowled. Link pressed on. “Look, my friends and I want to help you.”

“You don’t want to help,” she insisted.

“I do.”

“You’ll end up just like all the others, taking advantage of us. That’s what pigs do. Roll around in their own filth.”

“I’m not like that,” he said.

“Sure you’re not,” she hissed.

“What’s your name?” he asked.

She turned away from him. “Just forget it.”

“Tell me your name!”

A hand shot to her throat. When she spoke, her voice was tight and strained, as if she didn’t want to speak at all. “Kae’lee, daughter of Chava, first Beta of the Saber Tooth Pride.” She glared at him and he realized that despite his best intentions, he had just given her an order. “Satisfied?” she sneered.

“Sorry,” Link mumbled.

“I’m sure.”

She was about to turn away from him again. “I’m Link,” he blurted out quickly. “Son of…someone. An honorary Delta warrior of the Dragon Pride.” He stepped carefully toward her. “I’m here to help.”

“Sure,” she said in a flat, dead tone.

“Really.”

“If you say so.”

“I’m here with friends.” He suddenly found himself babbling. “The Betas from the Jaguar and the Kodiak. They’re not here at the moment. They’re looking for your Alpha. And my other friends are out in the territory. We’re not sure what they’re looking for, but they’ll find it. That is, if they don’t kill each other first. For some reason the two of them don’t seem to get along. I think it’s because they’re harboring hostilities about their –”

Kae’lee clapped a hand over his mouth. “Now listen to me and listen good, piggy,” she said in a low, dangerous voice. “I don’t care what you have to say. I don’t care what any man has to say, think, hear, or smell. You’re all a tribe of greasy, fat pigs who prefer a good roll in the mud to kindness and consideration and I would like nothing better than to see the whole lot of you gutted and twirling on a spit over a roasting pit with an apple stuck in your mouth and chunks of pineapple dripping down your bloated, pink, hairy, sides.”

He blinked, completely stunned by this declaration. True, he had heard such utterances from Mika, but never quite in such a rapid succession or with such vehemence. He was spared the trouble of coming up with a reply, however. From across the room, Ari’s rich voice interrupted their conversation. “You there,” the local thug called, holding a hand out to Kae’lee. “You’re pretty. Come dance for me.”

Wordlessly, Kae’lee shoved the serving platter into Link’s chest and crossed to Ari as the sitar music began to play a wild, distinctively Gerudo folksong. Link followed after her, grabbing her arm and trying to pull her back. “Why are you obeying him?” he asked stupidly.

She wrenched her arm free with impressive force. “I don’t have a choice,” she growled.

“Come,” Ari called, opening his hand. “Dance for me.”

Link balled his hands up into fists on either side of his body. “Leave her alone!” he cried.

Ari raised a thin eyebrow. “And you are?”

“I don’t need you to fight my battles for me,” Kae’lee said at the exact same time.

He decided to hear her instead of Ari. “Well, you can’t do a very good job of fighting it in your condition,” he snapped.

“My condition?” she repeated.

“You’re under a spell.”

“Thank you so much for reminding me,” she droned.

“You can’t fight against him, but I can.”

“I don’t need your help.”

“Why are the Gerudo so stubborn?” Link exclaimed.

“Dance for me,” Ari demanded. Kae’lee seemed to be overcome by a great force. She clapped her palms together over her head and started to dance, her hips swaying slowly from side to side, her head lolling back as though she were having some kind of graceful seizure. Only her eyes seemed to remain within her own command and they glared angrily in all directions.

“Leave her alone,” Link shouted at Ari.

Ari pursed his lips together. He gestured vaguely with a gloved hand to a few of the other men who were enjoying the company of a young Delta swallowing fire. “Dispose of this annoyance,” he said lazily to them, never taking his eyes off of Kae’lee’s hips.

Begrudgingly, the men rose. There were three of them and they were all much larger than Link. He imagined that he could easily take them all though. None of them seemed to show any indication of formal training. They didn’t carry swords or poles or any visible weapons. Link was fairly certain he could easily dispatch of them. He squatted down, preparing to take full advantage of a lower center of gravity than these goons, but suddenly, he saw Ari reach out and run a hand down Kae’lee’s thigh. “Hey!” he cried indignantly, standing up again. At once, the thugs grabbed him under the arms. As Link kicked and screamed, he was helplessly dragged out of the smoky den by three men who should have proven no real threat.



Nebekah and Sapphia made their way silently through the hallways of the Saber Tooth fortress. At first, Nebekah had resented Sapphia’s unwanted company, but she decided to make the best of things. This was an occasion to learn quite a bit, after all. Nebekah used this opportunity to assess Sapphia’s skills. She certainly seemed a capable warrior, well versed in the art of stealth and obfuscation. Her skills even seemed comparable to Nebekah’s, she admitted bitterly. The two of them moved like twin shadows, sweeping through the corridors and avoiding detection without a hint of difficulty.

Not that there was much to avoid. They had not run into a single man since their quest for Nassan began. A few sour-faced Delta warriors had passed through, but other than that, the hallways had been remarkably empty. This could prove both a blessing and a curse, Nebekah thought as she moved alongside Sapphia. On the one hand, it might make their work here easier, on the other, it left her with a queasy feeling in the pit of her stomach as she wondered where the other Delta warriors could possibly be. She hoped desperately they had fled before the spell could put them at the mercy of the men, but somehow, she doubted it.

“I’ve never met Nassan,” Sapphia whispered. “When I last visited the Saber Tooth, their Alpha was called Shaheen. She was young. What became of her? Did she fall in battle?”

“She had a daughter,” Nebekah answered tersely. “The Saber Tooth feel that once an Alpha has children, she should step down. The turnaround time is quite extraordinary. Almost like everyone in the Pride gets a chance at being Alpha, regardless of bloodlines.”

“Amazing how different we are,” Sapphia remarked.

“Amazing,” Nebekah repeated dryly. She glanced across the hall. “There. There’s the Alpha’s chambers.” She pointed to a set of double doors. Engraved in the stone was an image of an enormous tiger, setting on a pyramid of bones and wearing a crown. Inlaid into the tracery were precious jewels, purple, the Saber Tooth color, arranged like the Gerudo crescent.

Carefully, scanning from side to side in twin motions, the two Betas crept forward. Without consulting each other, Sapphia knew to keep watch while Nebekah carefully grabbed an ivory doorknob and turned it. She was gratified to hear a soft click. The two of them slipped inside and shut the door. The inside of the chamber was bathed in inky darkness, but they heard a raspy inhale at their arrival, followed by an all too still silence.

“Alpha Nassan?” Nebekah called tentatively.

“Who’s there?” a hoarse voice whispered.

“Friends,” Sapphia said.

“Are you alone?”

“No men are with us,” Nebekah assured the voice.

“I don’t know your voices,” it said.

“We’re not of your Pride,” Sapphia said.

“Who are you?”

“Sapphia, daughter of Alondra, first Beta of the Kodiak Pride,” Sapphia recited proudly.

“Kodiak?”

“Yes, Alpha. And I travel with Nebekah, daughter of Elena, first Beta of the Jaguar Pride.”

There was a moment of silence before the voice spoke again. “There is a table beside the door. On it is a taper and flint. Light it so I can see you.”

Nebekah stumbled forward blindly, her hands groping in the darkness until they discovered the edge of the table. “We came on an urgent quest,” Nebekah explained as she searched for the flint.

“What sort of quest?”

“The Twinrova sisters have returned from the dead,” Sapphia explained. “They’re seeking to restore the Topaz.”

“Why would they want to do that?”

“We think it’s some kind of weapon,” Nebekah said.

“Alpha Medea of the Orca Pride has charged our fellowship with assembling the Topaz before they can,” Sapphia continued. “She believes that this weapon will be able to destroy the sisters.”

“I see,” the voice said as Nebekah found the flint. “And you’ve come to collect my Shard?”

“We were hoping to approach you about it in the traditional way,” Sapphia told her quickly. “But we see you have other problems at the moment.”

“I’m afraid you have not found the Saber Tooth Pride under the best of circumstances.”

Reaching out, Nebekah took hold of what had to be an oil lamp. Her fingers ran along the smooth metal surface, seeking the taper. “Well, of course, we want to help you,” she croaked.

“That is very kind of you.”

“We’re traveling with Medea’s Thin Blood daughter,” Sapphia said. “And the Hero of Time.”

“The Hero of Time?” the voice repeated.

“He’s a friend of mine,” Nebekah told her as her fingers found the taper at last. She began to strike the flint against it. “He feels an obligation to undo whatever has happened to you and your sisters. He’s quite noble and I assure you, will not cause any trouble like the other men.”

“I’m not so sure about Tyro,” Sapphia added in sotto.

A spark jumped from the flint to the taper and it immediately lit, filling the room with a soft, gold glow. Nebekah and Sapphia had to shield their eyes for a moment, blinking and allowing themselves to slowly adjust to the abrupt change in illumination. That done, they both turned and drew in identical gasps as they caught sight of Alpha Nassan.

Nebekah would never have taken her for an Alpha, had she not known better. The young woman had been stripped of all her finery, all indication of her rank and status. She was on her back, tied to a chaise. Two spears had been rammed into the ground on either side of her. Linen strips were tied around each spear’s shaft and then bound to Nassan’s wrists, forcing her arms into a painful and permanent spread. Her long red hair was matted and hard, sticking out at funny angles. Exposed and unprotected, her body boasted dozens of purple and blue bruises as well as an assortment of cuts and scrapes that had been left untended and now seemed to be oozing with yellow puss. Both of her knees were swollen and misshapen, perhaps broken, though it was impossible to tell. Worst of all, the chaise itself was covered in dark brown and red stains. Blood.

It was Sapphia who managed to compose herself first. “Alpha,” she whispered, “what happened?”

“I think,” Nassan said, “That should be very obvious.”

“Who did this?” Nebekah asked.

“Ari and his men. My mother warned me not to be so trusting of men…” Sapphia rushed over to Nassan’s side and reached out to untie the bounds holding her in place. “No,” Nassan said quickly. “Don’t untie me.”

“Why not?”

“Ari will know you were here.”

“Alpha,” Nebekah said, “do you think that Ari was responsible for this spell that has you and your sisters obeying men?”

Nassan laughed at this. “No. He’s just a thug who felt a swell of power in his belly when he realized that he could take advantage of our hospitality. He and his men came here so he could attempt to win a Saber Tooth bride.”

“I told you,” Sapphia said impatiently, “this has to have been the work of Koume and Kotake.”

“Do you really think so?” Nassan asked.

“Yes.”

The Alpha sighed. “To do such a thing to fellow Gerudo is animal,” she muttered.

“Well, regardless of who is responsible, we’re going to fix it,” Nebekah told her. “Somehow.”

“Do that,” Nassan said, “and I will give you my Shard.”

“Thank you, Alpha,” Nebekah said with a bow, crossing her wrists in front of her chest.

“He’ll be easily disposed of,” Sapphia added.

“Do not be so quick to believe that,” Nassan warned them. “You may have noticed that many of my sisters are absent from the fortress.”

Nebekah frowned. “We did notice, actually.”

Nassan nodded. “Ari has sent them deep into our territory to the silver mines.”

“He’s using them as slave labor?” Sapphia choked, clearly shocked by this development.

“Yes.”

“Wealth,” Nebekah spat, shaking her head angrily. “Men are always seeking more wealth.”

“You misunderstand me,” Nassan said. “The silver in these mines is valuable, yes, but that is not why Ari wants it.”

Sapphia wrinkled up her nose. “Why does he want it?”

“It’s not ordinary silver. It’s Din Silver. Once forged, it never breaks. In the ancient days, the Hylians used this silver to forge gloves or gauntlets. If someone wore these silver instruments, their strength was increased tenfold.”

“Nabooru’s silver gauntlets,” Nebekah whispered softly.

“Even in an unprocessed state, the silver can increase a person’s strength significantly.”

“So Ari isn’t seeking wealth,” Sapphia sighed. “He’s seeking power. A way to get revenge on…someone.”

“And judging by how long he’s had my sisters digging in the mines,” Nassan said, “my guess is that he already has it.”



Link was thrown to the ground, landing on his tailbone. A shock of pain ran through his spine, causing him to cringe. The three goons laughed uproariously, standing around Link and enjoying his pain. If nothing else, the pain had served as a sharp reminder, snapping Link back into focus. As he looked up at his stupid, bloated captors, his mind began to form strategies for dispatching of them. He angrily cursed himself for becoming distracted, but he would have to dwell on that some other time. For now, he had to get back inside.

“Yes, yes,” he said, slowly climbing to his feet and rubbing his sore bottom. “I fell on my backside. Let’s all have a good laugh about it.”

“Oooh, this one likes to talk back,” one of the goons chuckled.

“Do he?” a second scoffed.

“Why don’t you show him what we do to punks who like to talk back, Joachim,” the third sneered.

The first one, evidently named Joachim, stepped forward, pounding a meaty fist into his hand. “I could do that,” he said.

“Oh, please,” Link groaned, rolling his eyes. “Could you be more of a walking cliché?”

“I’ll get you for that,” Joachim snapped.

“Get him, Joachim!” one of his companions shouted.

“What’s a cliché?” the other, a skinny make with a narrow face, asked, scratching his head.

“Put them up!” Joachim barked, holding his meaty fists in front of his body and swaying back and forth on the balls of his feet.

Link took a step back, planting his hands on his hips and taking a wide stance. “Come and get me,” he taunted the lackey.

Joachim roared, leading forward and leading with his head as he charged at Link. This was exactly what Link had been hoping for. Easily, with the grace of a dancer, Link spun out of Joachim’s path. The goon was running blind and completely unaware that Link had even moved. He continued raging forward, cracking his skull loudly against the side of the fortress. Link and the other thugs involuntarily cringed as they watched Joachim straighten out and dizzily stumble to one side, his eyes out of focus and spinning in his big, ugly head.

Like a tree, Joachim tipped over and crashed to the ground, sending a cloud of dust up into the air around him. After that, he was perfectly still, except for the steady, unconscious breathing that caused his gut to bob up and down, sagging out from underneath his filthy, wine soaked shirt. Link raised an eyebrow. “I guess he showed me,” he said.

The skinnier lackey’s jaw fell open. “You little…” But the indignant lackey seemed to be at a loss for words. He balled his hands up into fists, his face turning beet red.

“Little what?” Link asked, genuinely curious to see what kind of barb this individual could come up with.

“I’ll get you for what you did to him!”

“I didn’t do anything,” Link said calmly.

The second lackey charged, this time keeping his head up and his eyes trained on Link. Unlike Joachim, who was bull-like and meaty, this particular goon seemed wirier and certainly smaller. Link reached out, planting a hand on his opponent’s head. The minion growl and barked, swinging his arms uselessly, out of range of Link. Under normal circumstances, Link probably could have held out, waiting for him to wear himself out, but Link reminded himself that there was still a third to contend with and that he couldn’t become immobile for that length of time.

“Let me at him! Let me at him!” the raging goon cried.

“This,” Link said instructively, “is a cliché.” And with that, he released his hold on the other man’s head. The goon fell over, face first into the dust. Link swiveled around and planted a foot on his backside, grabbing one arm and pulling it into a half nelson behind his back. Still, his opponent squirmed and writhed, determined to somehow get revenge on Link for felling Joachim. He gnashed his teeth and wriggled, craning his neck to try and bite Link’s ankle. Link delivered a swift kick to a particular soft spot on the back of his skull. Instantly, the second thug fell unconscious, getting a face full of dust.

Link turned around and immediately felt dismay. He had hoped that the third minion would be just as stupid as the other two, but he quickly was disillusioned. The third, a rather good looking Human with red hair, had drawn a pair of knives from the depths of his long, ostentatious jacket. “It’s just you and me now,” he said, grinning gleefully.

“Great,” Link replied, reaching over his shoulder and drawing his own blade which had mercifully remained in the sheath throughout the ordeal.

The flunky surged forward, both of his knives pointed at Link’s chest. Link batted them to one side with his sword then swung back at the enemy’s shoulder. Quickly, the goon crossed his knives, catching the blade in the V they formed. He grinned, clearly pleased with himself for managing to render Link’s sword temporarily useless. Link shrugged and kicked his foot forward, slamming the bottom of his boot into the other man’s chest. Instantly, he dropped the knives and fell over. He tried to roll over and climb to his feet, but Link kicked him down again, planting a foot on his back and placing the tip of his sword directly behind his neck.

“I wouldn’t,” he told him fiercely.

Suddenly, the sound of clapping rang out sharply across the lawn. Link turned and saw Ari standing in the doorway to the fortress, clapping his gloved hands with a look of decided admiration. “Well done,” he said serenely.

“Are these your best men?” Link asked coldly.

“They were,” Ari admitted mournfully, “but I’m in the market for something a little better.”

“Really?” Link snorted.

“Kindly get off of him.”

Reluctantly, Link removed his foot from the third lackey’s back and stepped away. The dusty man growled, pulling himself to his feet. “Why I ought to –”

“That will be all, Henrik,” Ari interrupted, dismissing the angry goon with a wave of his hand. “See to the others.” Begrudgingly, the other man, apparently named Henrik, obeyed. Ari turned his full attention on Link now. “Tell me, my friend, what is your –”

Link cut him off. “I’m not your friend.”

“Not yet,” Ari said, apparently completely nonplussed by the interruption. “But you can never have too many friends.”

“I prefer quality to quantity.”

“And you certainly are high quality, my friend,” Ari purred.

“If you say so.”

“What’s your name?”

“Link.” He knew it was a risk, giving his real name. Link, however, was banking on the fact that Ari was a foreigner to Hyrule. There was a chance that he didn’t know the Hero of Time.

“I see,” Ari repeated, apparently confirming Link’s suspicions. “Well, Link, you’ve managed to dispose of my three best men.”

“It wasn’t that difficult.”

“I noticed. Your skill far exceeds theirs. Tell me, would you be interested in a job?”

He blinked. “A job?”

“I’m in need of guards with your superior skills. I would like to take you on as one of my own.”

“You think that I’d want to work for you?”

“I think,” Ari said, “that you have come here to the Saber Tooth fortress. There are only two kinds of men who come here. Sex fiends and men who have nothing to lose and everything to gain. Something tells me you are not a sex fiend. No, you came here seeking a Saber Tooth bride. Or your own death, perhaps. Therefore, I think you have much to gain.”

“That’s what you say.”

“It is.” Ari smiled. “Join me. I can make it well worth your while.”

Link had to admit, this was going far better than expected. If he could join Ari’s inner circle, perhaps he could learn Ari’s purposes, perhaps even find the source of the spell, assuming that Sapphia was wrong and Twinrova wasn’t responsible. At the very least, joining up with Ari would assure Link of not being thrown bodily from the fortress again. Still, instinct told him to play it cool. After all, if he were the destitute Ari took him for, he would be skeptical. “Suppose I were to join you,” he said.

“Yes?”

“What’s in it for me?”

“Besides a purpose in life?”

“Besides that.”

Ari shrugged. “I could not help but notice your interest in my pretty little dancer,” he said casually. “Kae’lee, was it?”

“Right…”

The other man smiled. “Join me, Link, and I will give her to you to attend your bed.” He leaned his head to one side. “I assure you, she will be the first of many rewards given to my new lieutenant. What do you say?”

This was the opportunity. Time to accept and get in on Ari’s plans. Link nodded. He could feel heat rising into his cheeks. He knew he would have to say something eventually, but suddenly, his throat had gone dry. Luckily, Ari seemed to accept this nod as ascent, because he then clapped Link on the shoulder and, without another thought to his fallen comrades, led him back into the fortress.



The last half hour had been mercifully silent, so silent, that from time to time, Mika would be surprised to realize that Tyro was still following behind her. After reaching the farthest border of Saber Tooth territory, the two of them had turned around and headed back to the fortress, taking a different route than before, through a choppy rock quarry that was clearly a frequent bypass for the Saber Tooth, due to the relatively smooth stone corridor worn in the rock. So far, the new route had been just as disappointing as the old one. There was no sign of life anywhere, other than a few buzzards flying overhead.

To be honest, the silence was starting to get on Mika’s nerves. She couldn’t explain why, really. It wasn’t as if Tyro had anything of value to say. Nevertheless, she felt very uncomfortable and relished the opportunity to speak again when she noticed a pick ax lying on the ground. “There must be mines around here,” she said, leaning over and picking it up.

“What do you think they mine?” Tyro asked. She thought she detected a hint of relief in his voice, as if he hated the awkward silences too.

“I’m not sure,” she admitted. Orca Pride had never had need to mine. Most of the things they made were constructed out of leather and stone. When they needed metal, they generally bartered with the Kodiak Pride for gold or ore.

“Sounds like something Ari would be interested in,” Tyro said.

“What do you mean?”

Tyro shrugged. “He likes money.”

“Oh.”

“Should we investigate?”

She was a bit surprised by his sudden deference. “I imagine we’re on the way,” she said.

“All right.”

For a moment, she stood there, watching him expectantly. Tyro said nothing, but instead stood still, looking back at her. Finally, with a small sigh, she turned around and began walking again. Behind her, she heard Tyro follow. “It’s stupid,” she said angrily.

“What’s stupid?”

“Man’s pathetic quest for wealth.”

He chuckled. “Sometimes. Although I will say, it’s nice having a few coins to rub together.”

“Typical.”

“Still,” he continued, “if I were suddenly king of a Gerudo Pride, I don’t think money would be the first thing on my mind.”

“You’d still be after revenge for your mother.”

“Well, if you had approached me about that a week ago then yes, revenge would have been on my mind. But, if what Nebekah says is true, then I don’t think these girls kidnapped my mother.”

“So what would be the first thing on your mind?” she asked.

“Do you really have to ask? Come on, you saw those women. They’re gorgeous. I’d want what any man would want with them.”

Mika whirled around, looking at him in disgust. “You’re repulsive.”

“No, I’m not,” he said breezily. “I’m just a warm blooded man. And those girls looked pretty warm blooded to me.”

“Do men think of anything other than reproduction?” she sneered.

Tyro held up his hands quickly. “Woah, woah, woah. Time out. Who said anything about reproduction? I do not want kids. Ever.”

“You’re sick.” She turned around and started walking again.

“You know, there are some men who aren’t obsessed with a woman’s touch. I’ll bet your brother’s never –”

She held up a hand suddenly. “Shhh…”

“Too gross?”

“Shut up,” she hissed. She strained her ears, she was certain that she had heard something. Tyro mercifully shut up and together, they stood completely still. And there it was again! Somewhere, in the near distance, she could hear the sound of a cracking whip.

“Sounds like someone’s in pain,” Tyro mumbled. “Or in fun.”

“Come on,” she hissed, choosing to ignore the remark. Silently, the two of them crept along the stone corridor. Up ahead, the rocks gave way on the right hand side. Mika was certain that whatever was making the noise, it would appear once they managed to peek around that corner. The whip was getting louder, now companied by a scream. Mika felt her throat tighten. Someone was hurting a sister Gerudo, she was sure of it.

Carefully, Mika and Tyro placed their hands on the rock. Mika stood up on her tip toes and peered around the side while Tyro squatted below her to look on the other side. The rock formations gave way to a steep decline, leading down into a ravine. Within the ravine, dozens of small holes led down into mine shafts. Some of the shafts had silver tracks leading in with carts rolling along the rails, while others were so small, that Mika doubted more than two or three people could fit inside at a time.

Lines and lines of soot-covered Gerudo were moving in and out of the larger shafts, carrying pick axes and lanterns, pushing carts, hauling buckets filled with a dark metallic rock. Directing the traffic were about half a dozen ruddy, ugly men, each carrying a whip in one hand and a chain in the other hand. The chains were binding three young Deltas who sat on stones. Two of them looked young, possibly recent initiates while the third looked a bit older, and sat hunched over, shielding her swollen, pregnant stomach from the world. The three of them looked bloody and beaten, showing clear indication of whip lashes on their faces.

“Keep working!” one of the men shouted. “Keep working or I kill them.” To emphasize his point, he whipped one of the three girls. The lash caught her across the shoulder, sending a thread of blood into her silk dress. The Gerudos in line nearest to her, on the way down into the mine, gave the man angry glares. One of them moved forward to try and comfort the girl. The taskmaster kicked her in the shin. “Back into line!” he ordered.

“Animals,” Mika hissed.

“I know that man,” Tyro said thoughtfully.

“Who is he?”

“He’s one of Ari’s cronies. I’ve seen him around town. What’s his name? Lucien? No, that’s the Risan with a thing for redheads. Maybe it’s Lionel? Lawrence? Something with an L…”

“Whoever he is,” Mika swore, “he will die.”

“Now that isn’t very nice at all, duckie.” Tyro and Mika looked up to find another man with a whip standing over them, cruel smile on his face. “Then again,” he said, “What can we expect from a couple of spies?”

Mika fumed, “You miserable –”

Tyro stepped forward suddenly. “I think there’s been a slight misunderstanding. We’re not spies, Ari sent me.”

“No, he didn’t,” the guard said.

“Worth a shot,” Tyro muttered with a shrug. “Run!” He grabbed Mika’s arm and took off. There was no real thought, no time for schemes. The two of them raced forward, running up the rocks and toward the mines, the tubby guard huffing and puffing behind them. The Gerudo miners and their captors all stopped, momentarily forgetting their toils as they watched the odd duo fleeing their pursuer. Tyro shot straight for one of the smaller mine shafts. “Quick!” he shouted to Mika. “Inside.”

Without argument, she ducked into the low opening and disappeared into the darkness, Tyro hot on her heels. Immediately, once he was inside, he pushed Mika back against the wall. It turned out that the cavern was about the size of a shower stall, so it wasn’t far to go. Tyro turned around, examining the surroundings. He spotted a shelf of rubble, meticulously arranged over the entrance to the doorway, probably decades ago by the Gerudo. Pulling his pole off his back, he rammed it straight up into the shelf. Instantly, a tumble of rocks fell, closing over the opening of the chamber.

“What are you doing?” Mika cried, grabbing Tyro’s arm and pulling him away from the cave in.

“Shutting them out,” he explained, catching his breath.

“You idiot!” she yelled.

“You’re welcome.”

“You’ve just trapped us inside.”

“I know,” he said. “But inside is better than outside right now. Outside means angry men with whips.”

“Who will clear away the rubble and slaughter us.”

“I don’t think they’ll waste the effort,” Tyro shrugged.

Outside, they heard the heavy wheezing of the guard who had been chasing them. “Feel like playing hide and seek?” the guard called.

“Yes, actually,” Tyro replied smugly.

“Hide all you like,” the guard shot back. “We’ll be waiting right here for you when you get out.”

“You see?” Tyro said triumphantly. “They’re not going to bother digging in here to get us.”

“No,” she said. “They’re just going to starve us.”

“Come now,” he said, settling down against the wall and folding his hands behind his neck. “Don’t be so gloomy. Link will come and rescue us eventually.”

“How can you be so sure?”

“It’s his thing.”



It was amazing how a room filled with so much noise and debauchery could seem so lonely. Ari had indeed made Link his guest of honor, settling him down on Joachim’s pillows and ordering a few Gerudo women to serve him fruit and wine in excess. True to his word, he had also sent Kae’lee to Link’s side, where she now sat, glowering in silence. Try as he could, Link was unsure of what to say to her. He was caught in the double blind of wanting to be himself while at the same time deceiving Ari, who rested a few paces away, getting a bit too familiar with a Gerudo woman in his lap.

Link looked at Kae’lee, just sitting there in silence. “Say something,” he begged her softly.

Kae’lee made a few strained, choking noises before her throat finally surrendered. “What do you want me to say, pig?” she snapped.

“Oh!” Immediate guilt flooded through Link as he realized that he had just given her an order. “I didn’t mean that to be an order. I’m sorry, I…” Sound like an idiot, was what he wanted to say. “I’ll find a way to break this spell, really.”

“Oh, you seem to be doing a good job of it so far,” she droned.

“This is part of a plan,” he said quickly. “I’m not really working for Ari. It’s a trick.”

“You seem to be enjoying the benefits of it well enough.”

“Hey, if I were enjoying the benefits, I’d look more like him.” Link jerked his head in Ari’s direction. “I’m not like that.”

“So you say.”

“You still don’t believe me?”

“Why should I?”

“I guess that’s fair. You’re not exactly catching me at my best.”

“Oh, I think this is a man doing what he does best.”

Link rolled his eyes. “Shut up.” Immediately, Kae’lee’s lips seemed to take on a life of their own. They clamped shut and try as she might, she could not open them. She gasped, pulling at her mouth to no avail, looking rather panicked. “Gah!” Link blurted, realizing his own error. “Sorry! Sorry, I take it back! Undo that! Uh…unshut up. Talk again.”

Kae’lee caught her breath as her lips opened again. “That was very unpleasant,” she hissed.

“I’m so sorry. It wasn’t on purpose.”

She glared at him for a moment. Much to his surprise, she said, “All right.”

“All right what?”

“So this is all part of some elaborate plan to trick Ari and free my sisters?” she said.

“Yes.”

“What’s next?”

“What?”

“What happens next? You’ve successfully infiltrated his inner circle. His very own private pig pen. Now what, big shot? What do you do? Aside from rolling around in his muck.”

“I don’t know,” he admitted. “I need to wait for my friends to get back and tell me what they’ve learned.”

“And in the meantime?”

“I just need to lay low and keep convincing Ari that I’m in his corner.” He glanced at her. “And I could really use your help with that.”

“Me? What do you need me to do?”

“Well, you’re just sitting there glowering. I think Ari expects me to be giving your orders or something.”

“Well, are you going to?”

“No.”

“Then what am I supposed to do?”

“Make it look convincing.”

Kae’lee’s upper torso slowly began to jerk forward, toward Link as if she had no control and imaginary strings were pulling her. Before Link knew what was happening, she was pressing her lips against his. He could feel her warm breath on his cheek. Her mouth was enticing and tasted like wine. Against all his better instincts, Link found himself kissing her back. He had kissed a girl before, several in fact, but it had never been quite like this. Link felt something inside of him he had never felt before, a sort of hunger in the pit of his stomach which roared and flooded his body at all at once. There was no name he could assign to it, but instantly, he knew that he wanted it and that it drove him to kiss her deeper.

She pulled away abruptly, looking completely shocked. The hunger in Link’s stomach began to ache and for a split second, he wanted nothing but to appease it. Then he realized again who he was and what he had just done. “I’m sorry,” he said softly. “That wasn’t supposed to be an order. I really didn’t mean to.”

For a moment, Kae’lee was silent. “You really didn’t, did you?”

“No.”

“You’re genuinely sorry for all these orders you keep giving me.”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

Link shrugged. “I’m not a pig,” he said simply.

“You’re not like other men.”

“I’m really not.”

“Link!” called someone from across the room. Link sat up and caught sight of Nebekah and Sapphia, just entering the room and scanning for sign of him. He was a bit grateful that they had not seen him in such a compromising position.

“Over here!” he beckoned, picking up a pillow and dropping into his lap. They two of them spotted him and quickly made their way over. “Sit down on the pillows,” he told them quietly.

“Who are they?” Kae’lee asked as Nebekah and Sapphia settled themselves on the floor.

“These are my friends,” Link explained, “Nebekah and –”

“Sapphia,” Sapphia said for herself. “Daughter of Alondra, first Beta of the Kodiak Pride.”

“This is Kae’lee,” Link said, gesturing to her.

“First Beta of the Saber Tooth Pride,” Kae’lee said, crossing her wrists in front of her chest. The other two returned the gesture.

Nebekah examined Link curiously. “What, exactly, are you doing there, blondie?” she murmured.

“Ari has initiated me into his gang,” he explained. “What have you learned?”

“We found Nassan,” Nebekah said. “And the news is not good. Ari has most of the Saber Tooth warriors mining silver.”

“Din Silver,” Sapphia added.

Link frowned. “What’s Din Silver?”

“Apparently, it enhances physical strength,” she explained.

And suddenly, a nightmarish memory laughed at Link. “Nabooru’s gauntlets,” he said. “They were made out of silver.”

Nebekah nodded. “Exactly. We think that Ari is going to try and get as much of it as he can to get revenge for his banishment.”

“Revenge on who?”

The door to the fortress was flung open suddenly. A large, burly man with a bad sunburn and a whip marched in, looking annoyed. “Ah,” Ari called cheerfully, “Cyrus, my friend. How are operations coming?”

“There’s trouble at the mines,” Cyrus said gruffly.

Ari sat up, casting the Gerudo on his lap aside. “Trouble?”

“We caught a couple of spies watching operations. A man and a woman,” Cyrus explained.

“Mika and Tyro,” Sapphia muttered softly.

“We tried to intercept them, but they got away,” Cyrus finished. “They’ve trapped themselves in a cave in.”

“I see.” Ari stroked his chin. He turned to look over in Link’s direction. “Link,” he said. “I want you to go deal with this.”

“Now?” Link asked, playing his part a bit.

“Yes. The mines are in the northwest part of the territory. Go there and dispose of the spies.”

“You still haven’t told me what kind of operation this is that you’re running,” Link said.

“Dispose of them and I will tell you,” Ari said.

“All right,” Link replied, rising to his feet.

“I assure you,” Ari added with a lewd chuckle, “your lady friends will be waiting for you when you get back.”

“Right,” Link said.

This seemed to be good enough for Ari. He turned his attention back to more pleasurable things. Meanwhile, Cyrus sat down, helping himself to a flagon of wine and a Delta girl. Link leaned over to address the girls. “Be very careful, Link,” Nebekah warned him.

“I always am,” he said with a smile. “I’ll go take care of Mika and Tyro. Get them to safety then I’ll be back.”

“Okay.”

“And listen to me,” he said urgently, examining the three of them. “You have to go with the flow.” He turned, directly to Nebekah and Sapphia. “You two have to pretend that you’re under the spell, just like everyone else.”

“What?” Sapphia said indignantly.

“Never,” Nebekah insisted.

“You have to,” Link implored. “If Ari or any of his men find out that there are women who aren’t obeying their commands, something terrible could happen. They could kill you. Or worse, they could think the spell was broken entirely.”

“If it were broken entirely, we’d slaughter the whole lot of them,” Kae’lee said bitterly.

“Exactly,” Link said. “And they might want to beat you to it, before you all realized the spell was off.” He looked at Nebekah and Sapphia again. “Behave yourselves until I get back, okay?” Without waiting for an answer, Link began to walk to the door. There was a bit of a wobble in his step he could not exactly account for, but he had the feeling it had something to do with the hunger of kissing Kae’lee.



The mine shaft was cramped and crowded, resulting in an endless array of knocking elbows, knees, and heads as Mika and Tyro attempted to make themselves comfortable for what might well be a long haul. Tyro was sure, of course, that Link would come to rescue them. He wasn’t the least bit afraid of dying at the hands of some anonymous thugs he had seen countless times in the taverns and dance halls of the village. What concerned him more was Mika, who continually eyed him with that distasteful stare the Gerudo seemed to reserve for a pile of rotting codfish. She might well be the end of him.

Some time had passed. How much, Tyro was uncertain. His pocket watch had been taken from him by the Orca warriors who first captured him in the Valley. In the rush to charge off in search of the missing pieces of the Topaz, Tyro had not been afforded much time to regain his precious few possessions. He didn’t mind the loss of the watch for sentiment, but rather just for the inability to tell the time. At least it would have given him something to do. He could compulsively check the time every few minutes. Anything was better than sitting there, trapped with a thoroughly unpleasant Gerudo.

“He’s back again,” Mika muttered, breaking the silence after some time. Tyro glanced at the cave in he had created. Sure enough, on the other side of the rock pile, he could hear the wheezy breathing of the man who had chased them into hiding in the first place.

“He’s nothing if not persistent,” Tyro mumbled.

“Annoying.”

“Isn’t it?”

“My mother used to say, ‘persistence is great in the ally but deadly in the foe.’” Mika frowned, contemplating the words. “I guess I should call her my adoptive mother now.”

“What? She didn’t tell you that you were adopted?”

“Oh, she told me,” Mika sighed. “It was fairly obvious, anyway.”

“How’s that?”

“My hair,” she said vaguely, gesturing to the long locks, wrapped tightly in blue threads.

“What about it?”

“It’s blond,” she said.

“Ah,” he chirped. “I understand. Gerudo have red hair.”

“Blood Gerudo, anyway.”

“My cousin has red hair,” Tyro told her fondly, thinking about Malon, back on the ranch, far away from the squalor of this scenario. “I always hated it.”

“Because it made her look like a Gerudo?”

“Because it made all the boys in the village look at her,” he countered. “And it made her look like a Gerudo.”

“So you hated us even before you found your father’s diaries?”

“They’ve never really been the most popular people in the world to the villagers,” he said. “They burned it to the ground when I was four. That’s why they call it New Kasuto. The old one is gone.”

“That was probably the Kodiak,” Mika murmured.

“It was a long time ago,” he said. “I don’t remember what flags they flew, what their colors were. I only remember little bits and pieces. I remember my father waking me in the night and telling me we had to run. We stayed with my Uncle Talon for nearly three years after. I learned how to bail hay with the best of them. Unnecessarily tiring work, I must say.”

“What about your mother?” Mika asked.

Tyro blinked. In truth, he was surprised that she had brought up such a touchy subject, especially given his respectful silence on the matter of Alcia and his innocence in her death. “What about her?”

Mika shrugged. “Do you remember her?”

He shook his head. “No. She was gone when I was just a baby. Only a few weeks old, I think. I’ve seen pictures of her though. There was this picture that my father kept above the fireplace. He had an artist paint it on their wedding day. She was beautiful. For years, my father told me that she had died giving birth to me. I believed it.”

“It’s plausible. That happened to a few of my Orca sisters.”

“Well, unfortunately for yours truly, plausible lies are often the most believable. I never really questioned it. And then he died. And I found his diaries. There it was in black ink ‘The Gerudo have taken my wife.’ Only entry for nearly a year. The next one was about my first tooth.”

“She’s been gone for nineteen years?”

“Twenty, actually.”

“So why?”

“Why what?”

“Why are you looking for her after all this time?”

“What?” he asked. “You think because I’m a man I have no interest in my maternal parent?”

“I didn’t say that.”

He scoffed. “You’re predictable, Mika.”

“And you’re evading the question.”

Tyro frowned. “It’s complicated.”

“You think your life is complicated?” she laughed. “I’ve just met an estranged brother, who as it turns out, is a great Hero and it was because of him that my birth and identity were concealed from me for nearly seventeen years and that now, I don’t even know if my name is my real name.”

Tyro dipped his head. “Point taken.”

“Why are you doing it?” she persisted, tilting her head to one side. “Why are you looking for her after all this time?”

He sighed. “I guess it’s as a favor to my father.”

“Your father is dead.”

“We didn’t really part on the best terms.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, I know this might surprise you giving my roguish good looks and my charming personality, but I’m not exactly the kind of son he was hoping for. My father was hoping for an heir, someone to take over his shop when he retired. Someone like him, I suppose. Quiet. Kind. Mild mannered. Overflowing with good qualities and virtues. Instead, he got me.”

“And what are you?”

“Let’s just say,” he said slowly, “a less than worthwhile person. I’m not Link. I’m not a Hero. Never have been, never will be.”

“That’s how you feel?”

“Yeah.”

“Then why are you going on a quest?”

“A quest?”

“To find your mother. That’s something only Heroes do, quests. Seems to me that you’re trying to be one.”

Tyro chuckled. “Are you trying to find my one redeeming virtue?”

“Of course not,” Mika said quickly.

“Because I don’t have any.”

“Certainly not,” she agreed. “You’re a man.”

“And men don’t have any redeeming qualities.”

“Exactly.”

“And now, this is the part of the argument where you call me a Moblin, I call you a harpy, and we spend the next twenty minutes glaring at each other.”

“Pretty much.”

“Fine by me,” he snorted.

And with that, they lapsed into an all too familiar silence. Tyro gave Mika a good glare for a few minutes, but then, slowly, his gaze turned inward and he reflected on her rather innocent question. Why was he looking for his mother? He certainly knew that finding her wouldn’t change anything. He would still be Tyro when he did, a handsome, carefree, drifter with charm and no sincerity. That was the path he had chosen for himself. Then why was it that he was so desperate to find her? Would she somehow change him? And stranger yet, was that the very reason this whole, what had Mika called it, quest, had begun? Did he want to change who he was?

Of course not, he told himself. His life was fine, far greater than Link’s, he imagined. Who wanted to live as a selfless slave to honor and chivalry when there were mouths to be kissed and songs to be sung? There was no benefit to being a hero. And Tyro decided that he certainly wasn’t trying to be one. Mika was a fool. This search for his mother was only to satisfy an ancient curiosity, a question that had always haunted him since his early childhood, nothing more.

Or was he only fooling himself? Tyro, so accustomed to taking things in stride and taking pleasures for granted, suddenly found himself asking questions that he couldn’t answer. Questions that scared him more than he was truly willing to admit to anyone, least of all the unpleasant girl trapped in the mine shaft with him. Determined, he gave her another glare.



“The Hero of Time?” Kae’lee repeated incredulously.

Nebekah nodded. “Yup.”

“He’s the Hero of Time?”

“I see you’ve heard of him.”

“Of course,” Kae’lee replied. “We all have. The Saber Tooth are on good relations with the Dragons. Our Alpha has a common bloodline with them. Her predecessor Shaheen took command of their Pride when their Alpha went rogue. I just never expected the Hero of Time to be so…”

“What?”

Kae’lee shrugged. “Pretty.”

“Pretty?”

“He doesn’t look like a warrior. He looks like a…I don’t know. Like one of those statues of Din in the Dragon courtyard…only with shorter hair.”

“Well, Link is full of surprises,” Nebekah said with a shrug.

“Is it true what they say about him? That no weapon forged by mortal hands can defeat him?”

She laughed. “That’s a bit of an exaggeration. Link is a decent fighter, I’ll give him that, but he’s not invincible.”

“Is he really an honorary Delta warrior of the Dragon Pride?”

“Now that one is true,” Nebekah told her.

Kae’lee hugged a deep violet pillow to her chest. “I said some perfectly awful things to him,” she admitted.

“You did?”

“I really thought he was with the other men.”

“It happens,” Nebekah said with a shrug. “I wasn’t entirely trusting of him the first time we met either.”

“When was that?”

“Well, we were both around ten years old. He wandered into Jaguar territory by accident. He was the first boy I had ever seen. Jaguar trainees aren’t permitted to interact with men until the initiation at fifteen.”

“What happened?”

“I took him to my mother and she directed him to where he wanted to be. I didn’t learn until later that he was starting his Hero’s quest, even at that age.” Nebekah frowned. “We met again during the Dark Times. He was stumbling, wounded through the Valley.”

“It’s hard to believe that it’s only been a year since the Dark Times ended,” Kae’lee muttered.

“Was it hard on the Saber Tooth?”

She shrugged. “Fewer men came to call, so the birthrate dropped. Personally, I don’t see it as a great loss. Men are pigs.”

“Not all of them,” Nebekah said quietly.

Kae’lee sighed. “No, I guess not all of them.” She leaned her head to one side. “What about the Jaguar?”

“What about us?”

“Where the Dark Times hard on you?”

A dark scowl played on Nebekah’s lips. She absently twirled one of her dreadlocks around her finger. “The Kodiak, under the direction of their Alpha Male, attacked the Jaguar compound and slaughtered anyone not fast enough to run away. We lost our Alpha, the healers, a visiting priestess, and my mother.”

“Why did they do that?”

“We refused to join them in persecuting the Hero of Time.”

“They didn’t even approach us about that.”

“I imagine that was only an excuse. The Kodiak and the Jaguar have had strained relations for a long time.”

“Why?”

“Well,” Nebekah said, “The Jaguar live close to the Hylian population. We’re peaceful. We do trade. We interact. We allow them to, as the Kodiak would say, delude the purity of our culture.”

“Oh.”

“The Kodiak see the villagers as nothing more than parasites to be raided from time to time for wealth and for baby girls. That’s how they keep their population going. Kidnapped Thin Bloods. Although seven years with Ganondorf as Alpha males did wonders for their numbers too.”

Kae’lee nodded. “I hear he impregnated nearly every Kodiak over the age of fifteen. And some of the Dragons too.”

“That’s probably only a slight exaggeration. They have a whole new generation of healthy young girls. And there’s even a rumor of a son in the mix.”

Suddenly, Kae’lee’s face drained of color. “Oh no,” she whispered.

“What? What is it?”

She didn’t respond. Instead, her eyes fixed on something over Nebekah’s shoulder. Nebekah swiveled around and saw Ari standing behind her. He was an impressive figure, for a man. There was something about his gaze that was absolutely piercing. It didn’t help that he dressed all in black. His long brown hair, framing his thin and pale face, made him look like some kind of specter, a head floating in mid-air. Worst of all, however, was his cruel smile, the one that told the entire room that he was the one in charge.

“Lonely for your friend?” he asked. “I’m sure he’ll be back soon. Given the way he disposed of my men, I’m sure a single man and woman will not delay him long.” He squatted down, examining Nebekah curiously. “I have not seen you before.” A thousand insults instantly found their way to the tip of Nebekah’s tongue, but she swallowed them all and continued to look up at Ari silently. Unfortunately, he reached out with one of his gloved hands and ran a finger along her cheek. “You are quite beautiful, aren’t you?”

“When will Link be back?” Kae’lee asked suddenly.

Mercifully, Ari momentarily turned his attention away from Nebekah. “Soon. I said soon.”

“He has to hurry. He told me not to move until he came back,” she lied skillfully, assuming a slightly more rigid stance.

“Relax,” he told her and with that, he turned his attention back to Nebekah. “And who are you?”

“Nebekah,” she said softly.

Ari ran the back of his hand down her cheek. “Nebekah. A pretty name. Kiss me, Nebekah.”

She knew what Link said. She knew it was wise to play along with the spell and avoid blowing their cover. She knew what the smart thing to do was. Instead, she slapped him across the face. “No.”

He pulled back sharply, staring at her in disbelief. She was satisfied to see his cheek turn bright pink where she struck him. “I don’t understand. I said kiss me.”

“And I said no.”

“How are you able to do this?” Nebekah was silent. Ari turned to Kae’lee sharply. “You, quack like a duck.” Kae’lee visibly fought against it, but at once, she began quacking. “Stop.” Kae’lee stopped. “Tell me how she is able to resist me,” he barked.

Kae’lee put up even more of a fight this time, but she simply couldn’t help it. “She’s not a Saber Tooth,” she told Ari in a strained voice.

“Leave her alone,” Nebekah growled.

“Who is she, then?” Ari continued, ignoring her.

“The Beta of the Jaguar Pride,” Kae’lee said weakly.

“Tell me why she is here.”

Quickly, Kae’lee clapped her hands over her mouth. She began fighting with all of her strength, her face turning bright pink. She squeezed her eyes shut and tear began to fall from the corners. Still, Nebekah knew it was a losing battle. “She…” Kae’lee croaked in between her fingers.

“Tell me why she is here!” Ari roared. The chatter in the room stilled. Even the sitar music stopped for a brief moment.

“She’s here with the Hero of Time to retrieve my Alpha’s Shard,” Kae’lee said, giving Nebekah an apologetic look.

Ari’s eyebrows raised sharply. “The Hero of Time?” he repeated. “Who is the Hero of Time? Tell me who he is.”

“Link,” Kae’lee said with a sigh.

“So…” Ari mused. “Link came here with a purpose after all.” He glanced seriously at Kae’lee. “Tell me if Link is loyal to me,” he ordered her.

“No,” Kae’lee said. “He is seeking to find a way to break the curse on me and my sisters.”

A cruel smile spread across Ari’s lips. He stood up, turning to address the room. “May I have everyone’s attention?” The music died completely and the chatter halted. “I have instructions for all the Gerudo in the room.” Around the room, the Gerudo made indignant noises, some of them attempting to cover their ears, others just groaning in anticipation of something unpleasant. “Kae’lee here is going to lead you all in an attack. You are going to track down and kill the one called Link.”

“No,” Kae’lee gasped, even as her body lost control and she began to rise to her feet.

“All of you will follow her and you will kill him by any means necessary,” Ari said coldly. “He won’t be hard to find. He wears green and has light hair. Go. Find him. Destroy him.”

The Gerudo in the room rose, jerking like puppets to the door. Some of the men groaned in protest, while others look curiously at Ari, uncertain of what this strange order meant. Nebekah rose herself, standing toe to toe with Ari. “Why are you doing this?” she hissed.

Ari touched her chin lightly. “Because I like being king. And I’m not giving it up for anything.”

“That’s precisely what Ganondorf Dragmire said,” Nebekah told him. “And Link managed to dethrone him. You’re a small man by comparison.”

“You will soon find, my dear,” Ari promised softly, “that I am nothing of the sort.” He reached out abruptly, grabbing her throat in a vice-like grip. “There is nothing small about me,” he hissed, pulling her closer, up against his chest. Nebekah turned her face away in disgust. Growling, Ari threw her down onto the pillows. “I’ll deal with you later.” He turned to look at the other men in the room. “There’s trouble at the mines. Since Link will not be dealing with it, I think we should.”



Kotake smiled. “I hear her,” she said to Koume aloud. “Listen carefully, she’s calling out to us.”

“She is?” Koume asked.

“Just listen.” The two of them stood, their minds opened wide to all of Hyrule. Slowly, by sheer force of will, Kotake had managed to weed away the pitiful nightmares and idle daydreams of the villagers. Now, she could hear the vessel calling to them, loud and clear as if the other voices didn’t exist. She knew it would take Koume another moment. Her younger sister had never possessed quite the same discipline. Fortunately, Kotake was patient. For now.

“I hear her,” Koume said slowly, with enough uncertainty that Kotake gave her another moment before she began to project her own thoughts.

*We hear you, vessel,* Kotake thought.

*Hail to you, Twinrova sisters,* the vessel’s voice whispered into their heads from miles away.

*What is the scene like in the Saber Tooth stronghold?* Kotake asked.

*One of chaos, of course. As you predicted, the fellowship has shifted its focus from the Shard to helping the poor Saber Tooth break the spell.*

Kotake smiled at this. *Do you think you’ll be able to find the Shard on your own in the midst?*

*I am searching now,* the vessel replied.

“That spell is all too easy to break,” Koume muttered aloud.

“It doesn’t matter,” Kotake told her. “As long as the vessel gets to the Shard before it does.”

The vessel, of course, was unaware of this dialogue. She continued to project her thoughts to the sisters. *My only fear is that the Hero will be killed before I can get to him.*

*You must not let that happen!* Kotake’s mind screamed. *He must not die until the Topaz is assembled. He must not die by another’s hand, only by yours, only by the might of the Topaz.*

*He is in some mortal danger here,* the vessel admitted.

*Mortal danger?*

*Yes.*

*Explain yourself.*

*Men were in the fortress when the spell was cast. They’ve taken over and are intent on keeping it. They will try to kill the boy if he attempts to break the spell. And Ari himself, that’s the man in charge, he has resources that I did not anticipate.*

*What sort of resources?*

*Din Silver,* the vessel explained.

*See to the boy’s safety,* Kotake instructed her.

*But even if he lives, I fear, the men will still possess the Gerudo silver.*

*Let it be,* Kotake told her.

*But, great one, do you think it wise to allow a man to possess such a treasure?* the vessel asked.

*In the long run, it is of no concern,* Kotake answered.

*But –*

*Worry about the boy. The silver will be dealt with in good time.*

*As you say, great one.*

*In the long run,* Kotake continued in a reassuring tone, *The silver will be restored to its proper place.* She gave a meaningful look to Koume. *As will the Gerudo nation. Remember that. You are serving the greater good of our people. If some sacrifices have to be made, so be it. In the end, your glory shall be everlasting.*

*Yes, mistress.*

*Go now. Find the Shard.*

*I shall.*

The vessel’s voice fell silent. Kotake waited another moment or two before removing her hand from the telepathy tile. The change was instant, like a candle being blown out. Suddenly, her mind was clear again and she found herself securely back in the ice castle, rather than between worlds. Beside her, Koume removed her hand as well and leaned against the wall, catching her ragged breath.

“I hate those things!” Koume declared bitterly.

“Well, we can’t very well fly off and show our faces in the Saber Tooth fortress,” Kotake sneered.

“I know, I know.”

Kotake sighed. “It is a bit uncomfortable.”

“That’s all I’m saying!”

Slowly, Kotake crossed the room away from the tile, as if somehow putting a bit of distance between them would ease her transition back into the reality of the ice castle. She ran a hand through what little remained of her hair, feeling the smooth bald spots. There had been a time when those hadn’t existed. She only hoped that once their task was accomplished, her beauty would be as it once was. “I worry,” she murmured, mostly to herself.

Koume heard of course. “Worry about what?”

“About the vessel,” Kotake muttered.

“What about her?”

“She sounded hesitant, didn’t she?”

“A little,” Koume admitted. “At least, when it came to the men obtaining the silver and ruling over the Saber Tooth.”

“She longs for the glory and the power of the Gerudo nation, but I’m not sure she has the constitution to make the compromises necessary.”

“Why can’t we just brainwash her?” Koume asked.

“If we did, we’d be showing our hand too soon,” Kotake said. “We have to wait. We can’t be so rash.”

“Wait until what?”

“Until the point of no return.”

“For her?”

“Yes.”

“When is that?”

“I’ll tell you when,” was all Kotake said.

“I hate it when you do that,” Koume muttered.

“Bear with me, sister.”

“I always do. Sometimes I feel like I have no choice but to bear with you, Kotake.”

Kotake laughed. “That is our fate,” she said. “Forever intertwined, you and I. Not that I mind.”

“Nor I,” Koume admitted. “All reason says that we should have died hundreds of years ago.”

“Let the vessel be for now. Once she has accomplished what is necessary, we may do with her as we please. Until then, we just have to wait and hope her constitution is strong enough to carry out her duties.”

“All right,” Koume agreed.

“After that, we’ll see to it that she forgets such petty things as regret and uncertainty.”

Satisfied with the accord, Koume sat down and busied herself, trying to wrap her frail shoulders with a blue shawl. Kotake turned away from her, staring up at the sky. Vaguely, she admitted to herself that the point of no return seemed distant at the moment. There was a lot of work to be done, a lot of pieces of the puzzle still missing. The Topaz had to be assembled. An Alpha’s son had to be found. And something would have to be done about the expendable members of the fellowship. Still, Kotake refused to allow herself to become overwhelmed with doubt of any kind. After all, she and Koume had survived far worse circumstances. They had survived death itself. A little problem solving would hardly slow them down.

“I think,” she said softly, “that now is the time for us to begin restoring ourselves.”

“What do you mean?”

“I don’t know about you, Koume,” she hissed, “but I think I’m ready to be beautiful again. What do you say?”



Link had been on the way to the mines about twenty minutes when he thought he heard a low rumble coming from the path behind him. He turned around, trying to see if something was amiss, but the rocks were high on either side of the path which turned sharply from side to side. Vaguely, he recalled the horrifying images of collapsing dams sending floods of water into ravines such as the one he was crossing. He shivered. The last thing he wanted to do was swim for his life. Frankly, Link had never been much of a swimmer, owing largely to the fact that he had grown up in the secluded forest, where large bodies of water were somewhat scarce. In all honesty, the first time Link had really ever been near the sea was his first voyage to Zora Harbor.

A small shiver ran up his spine. Again, the painful memory of his quest to rid the realm of Ganondorf came to the forefront of his mind. “I saved the kingdom,” he reminded himself sharply. But he had been reminding himself for nearly a year. It was all simply too hard to reconcile. The good he had done simply wouldn’t blot out the painful, precious cost; his innocence, his friends, and his childhood. This last was the most difficult. In the year since his defeat of Ganondorf, Link had done his utmost to catch up on all the growing up he had missed, all the rites of passage he had had to forego. Still, he felt like he was missing something, a small, intangible part of life that he would never fully grasp.

Dimly, he remembered an offer Zelda had made. She had promised that she could take it all away, that she could restore him to what he was meant to be. Link had seriously considered taking her up on the offer, but some small part of him knew to refuse. Now that he knew all the dreadful things that went bump in the night, he found that he didn’t want to forget. No matter what, forgetting would never make it untrue. So why bother to pretend? Anyway, the offer was always open to him, Zelda had assured him of that much.

Of course, it was a package deal. Forgetting the painful part of his quest went hand in hand with forgetting the good parts too, and despite his nightmares, Link had to admit there had been a few. He had made new friends, discovered new possibilities, and pushed himself beyond what he thought were the limits for an ordinary boy. Not to mention the fact that he had now regained a sister he wasn’t anxious to lose, not while there was still so much to learn and appreciate about her. He might wish to forget from time to time, but the last thing he wanted to do was sacrifice any more. This much he knew in his heart of hearts.

And it didn’t hurt that he had met Kae’lee. Link couldn’t put a finger on it, but there was something about her that stirred his insides, making him feel delightfully warm and comfortable, while at the same time leaving him unnaturally ill at ease. He rather liked the combination. Duality had its advantages. Although he would never admit it to another living soul, Link couldn’t help but long to kiss her again, if only to feel so alive and uncomfortable.

Again, the rumblings came from behind. Link turned to look over his shoulder, but there was nothing to see. Perhaps his imagination was just playing tricks on him. Anyway, he had to prepare himself. He would arrive at the mines soon. Somehow, he would have to free Mika and Tyro without arousing the suspicion of Ari’s men. It had been nearly a year since he had last attempted any magic. Link wondered if he would be able to pull off Farore’s Wind with so little practice.

A purple blur suddenly dropped from the top of the ravine, down into the path in front of Link. A proud Saber Tooth warrior stood up, holding two curved blades in front of her. “What the…” Link choked, his heart jumping up into his throat. He took a step back and nearly crashed into a second Gerudo.

Link spun around and backed away from her. He looked up to the top of the ravine. There, he spotted nearly two dozen Gerudo women, lining either side of the opening and jumping down, one by one. Each of them carried two blades. He realized, almost at once, that they were all in the silk harem dresses he had seen earlier in the fortress. These had to be the same women who had been catering to the whims of Ari and his men. His heart sank, but he was not about to calm down. Every instinct immediately told him that something had gone terribly wrong.

With a rush of air, another Gerudo landed to his side. “End of the line, Link,” she said. It was Kae’lee, brandishing her blades.

“What’s going on?” Link asked.

“You have to die,” Kae’lee told him quietly.

“What?!” Link cried.

The first Gerudo who had jumped into the ravine before him let out a war cry and lunged forward, spinning her blades rapidly. They caught the reflection of the sun, casting bright spots all over the walls of the ravine. Link was forced to take a step back, shielding his eyes. Immediately, he realized his mistake as he heard the soft whooshing of a blade through the air. The Gerudo behind him took a swing at his head. Link just barely had enough time to duck as the sword went whirring over his head. The blow missed, but the Gerudo promptly grabbed the hilt of his own sword and drew it from his sheath, effectively leaving him completely unarmed and helpless. He looked over at Kae’lee. Several more Gerudo had landed behind her, all of them slowly advancing on him.

“It doesn’t have to be like this,” he said.

“I’m sorry, Link,” she replied. “I don’t want to hurt you.” And from her tone of voice, Link was almost certain she was telling the truth. Now, however, was not the time to assess how that fact made him feel.

The Gerudo behind him plunged her sword down, aiming to ram it through the top of his head. Link rolled out of the way and the blade struck rock, snapping in half like kindling. The Gerudo was thrown off her feet and Link was certain he heard something crack from the impact. Vaguely, he hoped she was all right, but he knew he had more serious matters to concern himself with. The first Gerudo sent a kick at his face. Link reached up and caught her ankle in both of his hands, throwing her leg upward. She fell over, landing on her back, her swords clattering to the ground. Link grabbed one.

“Why are you doing this?” Link implored.

“Ari ordered it,” Kae’lee told him. And with that, she began her attack against him. “Ya!”

Kae’lee’s skills were impressive, by far better than Link’s himself, although that only made sense given that she had been trained since birth to be a great warrior. Besides having that on her side, she was also much better with the curved blades than Link would ever be, favoring his own sword which was currently lying on the ground behind him somewhere. She moved effortlessly, sending dozens of thrusts at him in the blink of an eye. Link did his best to parry them, but found himself ducking more than anything else, jumping from side to side and occasionally up into the air.

She swung her blades in opposite directions, both aiming at his neck. Link just barely managed to get his own sword in between, jamming them from cutting his head off like a daisy. Another Gerudo, however, had managed to squirm behind him. She knocked her hilt into the crook of his neck. Link groaned in pain, his face contorting. His grip on the blade trembled, but he managed to hang on. Angrily, he kicked behind him, like a horse, ramming his boot into the other warrior’s middle. She grunted and fell back, but it did him little good as yet another had dropped from the top of the ravine. This one swung her blade at Link’s shoulder and managed to give him a fairly deep cut which immediately sent blood trickling down his arm.

Feeling his strength give out, Link dropped to the ground, allowing Kae’lee’s blades to squeeze shut, safely over his head. His shoulder was throbbing, sending shooting pains down his arm and into his wrist and fingers. Kae’lee took advantage of his momentary weakness and kicked him in the face. With a crack, her foot hit him in the jaw. Link fell onto his back, tasting blood in his mouth. Kae’lee put a foot on his chest, but he quickly grabbed her ankle before she could get her balance and threw it to one side. Kae’lee knocked into a few of her companions, effectively clearing the way for Link.

He jumped to his feet, tightening his grip on the sword. Kae’lee and her companions had manages to regain their balances. Link slowly turned in a circle, realizing that he was effectively surrounded. Somehow, he had the sinking suspicion that the Gerudo would not be polite enough to attack him one by one. Better to fall back on another form of combat.

“You don’t have to do this,” he said, a small thread of blood trickling out of the corner of his mouth.

“We have no choice,” Kae’lee said.

And abruptly, it came to Link. It was so simple, so brilliant, he was amazed he hadn’t thought of it before. “Yes, you do!” Link cried.

“What do you mean?” she asked.

“Kae’lee, all of you Saber Tooth Delta Warriors, listen to me.” And much to Link’s satisfaction, they stopped inching forward and seemed to turn their ears to him. So far so good. “I have an order for you,” he said. “I order you not to take any more orders from Ari.” As he looked around, he was pleased to see that their grips on the swords relaxed visibly. “Further,” he continued, “I order you not to take any more orders from men unless you choose to.”

Slowly, the Gerudo women began to look around at each other. “I think he’s done something,” one of them finally said.

Another frowned. “I don’t want to kill him any more,” she said. “I want to kill Ari.”

“I think,” Kae’lee said slowly, “he’s done it. He’s broken the spell somehow. We’re free.”

At once, a great cry arose from the warriors. They raised their arms into the air, pumping their swords which flashed sunlight in a million different directions. “Glad it worked,” Link muttered, turning his attention to the impressive wound on his shoulder which was gushing blood.

“Tend to his wounds,” Kae’lee ordered the warriors. “And see to our sisters,” she added, gesturing to the Gerudo Link had managed to fell.

Instantly, several Gerudo women descended on Link, this time carefully pulling away his tunic and moping up the blood on his skin with surprisingly tender hands for warriors who had just tried to kill him. “Thanks,” Link mumbled, nodding to them politely.

“You can help us free our other sisters,” Kae’lee said.

“Sure,” Link replied.

“Starting with the ones in the mine.”

“That’s a good idea. I have to rescue my friends from that area anyway.” Link paused, examining her curiously.

“What?” she asked.

“You didn’t want to hurt me.”

“So?”

“Well, I’d say that’s an improvement from our earlier encounters.”

Kae’lee shrugged. “You’re not…” she hesitated.

“Not what?” he prompted her.

She sighed in a long suffering manner. “You’re not a pig,” she finally admitted at last.

Link smiled slightly. “Thanks.”

“More of a fluffy pink bunny,” she declared.

He laughed genuinely. “I can live with that.”



“Sapphia!” Nebekah hissed, marching down the deserted hallways of the Saber Tooth fortress. “Sapphia!” For the life of her, she couldn’t imagine where the dreadful Kodiak could have wandered off to. Perhaps snooping, looking for precious Saber Tooth secrets to report back to her Alpha, the woman who had so readily catered to the demands of Ganondorf Dragmire. Nebekah sucked in her cheeks, a bitter taste in her mouth as she thought of the Kodiak with their dishonorable ways.

With the situation entirely out of her control, hunting down Sapphia was just about the only contribution Nebekah could make. Kae’lee and her sisters had left to track Link down. Nebekah had no idea which direction they had taken due to her extended confrontation with Ari. Once he and his men left, Nebekah did her best to try and track the Gerudo, but the Saber Tooth women clearly had superior marching patterns to those of the Kodiak, which were easily tracked. Nebekah had to admit that she was in a bit over her head. Therefore, she retreated back into the fortress and started to look for Sapphia.

She had expected it to take awhile, being unfamiliar with the Saber Tooth fortress, but she found Sapphia fairly quickly, sitting on the floor of Nassan’s greeting chamber, hugging her legs to her chest and resting her chin on one knee. She looked so small, so pathetic, that Nebekah was unsure she had found the right person for a second. “What are you doing?” she demanded.

“Just trying to help,” Sapphia muttered in a delicate voice, devoid of her usual, haughty tones.

“Help who?”

“The Saber Tooth Pride,” she mumbled.

Nebekah rolled her eyes. “If you want to help, help me find the mines,” she said.

“Mines?” Sapphia repeated vaguely.

“Mika and Tyro are trapped, remember? Link was sent to rescue them? You were there.”

“Oh.”

“Ari’s sent Kae’lee and her sisters to kill Link.” She decided not to mention her role in blowing their cover. “Get off your useless Kodiak bottom and help me find them.”

“Listen,” Sapphia snapped suddenly, her demeanor shifting instantly and without warning, “I am sick and tired of hearing you say things like that.”

“Like what?” Nebekah challenged her.

“You know perfectly well. ‘Useless Kodiak bottom.’ That’s enough already. Our conflict with the Jaguar has been over for some time.”

“Words. Words won’t bring my mother back from the dead.”

“Neither will hating me.”

“Your Pride slaughtered us.”

“First of all,” Sapphia said, “That was done under the influence of Dragmire. Secondly, I’m not my Pride. Don’t blame me for things that were done without my approval.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I don’t approve of all this infighting,” Sapphia said. “It’s all so pointless. It’s stupid. The blood feuds, the grudges. They’re not worth holding. They’re not worth tearing apart the Gerudo nation.”

“So I should forget the fact that my mother was killed?”

“No,” Sapphia said. “Certainly not. Never forget. But you know, hate is just another type of murder. You kill her again by hating her demise rather than celebrating her life.”

“Don’t lecture me about hate,” Nebekah snapped. “I come from a peaceful Pride.”

“Oh, is this what peace looks like?” Sapphia sneered. “The hatred in your eyes, the restless, continual need to assert your superiority over me?”

“Stay out of my head.”

“You make it so obvious, Nebekah. Your hatred. Your disdain. It’s time you admitted something.”

“What?”

Sapphia touched her chest. “I didn’t kill your mother.”

“I don’t know that.”

“What?”

Nebekah covered her mouth, gasping in embarrassment. She hadn’t meant to say that, but now, she knew she couldn’t take it back. “Never mind,” she said weakly.

“No,” Sapphia said slowly. “That’s it, isn’t it?”

“What?”

“You don’t know who killed your mother. You weren’t there, were you?”

“Stop,” Nebekah demanded. “Leave it alone.”

“That’s it. You don’t know who to blame. There’s no one individual you can accuse, so you blame the entire Pride. Your hatred for me isn’t about the fact that the Kodiak attacked your Pride, it’s about the fact that you don’t have someone you can point a finger at.”

“Don’t try to understand me.”

“But I do,” Sapphia insisted. “I do because I understand only too well. I know that need to blame someone for your own misfortunes.”

She could feel heat rising in her throat. “My misfortunes? Is it a misfortune that someone snuck up behind my mother and cut her throat? She was a peaceful woman. She devoted her life to bringing people together, not tearing them apart. She taught all the trainees to appreciate everyone.”

“And I see her lessons haven’t sunk in.”

“What?”

“You don’t appreciate the Kodiak very much.” A heavy silence followed. Sapphia pursed her lips. “I think it’s dreadful, the way the Gerudo nation has been torn apart. We were once a great, proud people. Before the Prides, before the division of the Topaz. Isn’t now our chance? It seems symbolic, doesn’t it? Reassembling the Shard. Shouldn’t we use this as an opportunity to begin mending fences? To restoring the Gerudo to what we once were?”

“I…” Nebekah hesitated. She hated to admit it, but much of what Sapphia said made sense to her. But she was still a Kodiak! How could she accept the olive branch from a member of that Pride that had caused so much devastation? Yet, at the same time, now, she thought of the peaceful teachings of the Jaguar. Wasn’t it proper to try? “I suppose…” she said slowly.

“I’m not hoping for a miracle,” Sapphia said. “I know I can’t just change your opinion of my Pride like that. And I know that we committed horrible wrongs to the other Prides, especially the Jaguar.”

“Yes.”

“All I’m asking,” Sapphia said, “is for you to give me, personally, a chance. Don’t just hate me on principle.” She laughed softly. “If you must hate me, there are many reasons, which I’m sure you’ll find. Just, don’t let the fact that I was born Kodiak be one of them.”

“Well…” Nebekah said slowly. “I suppose…I suppose we are on one mission together.”

“A quest that could potentially reunite the Gerudo nation. Isn’t that worth something?”

“Yes, it is.”

Sapphia offered her a wry smile. “A Kodiak befriending a Jaguar might be the first step to ending all the strife, all the bitter feelings and hostilities.”

“All right. All right.”

“All right what?”

Nebekah took a deep breath. “I suppose I can lay aside my hate, for now,” she said.

“Thank you.”

“Peace is something to be desired.”

“It’s time the Gerudo were one again,” Sapphia said. “We can bring peace for our people.”

“And with the Hylians?”

“In good time,” Sapphia told her. She held out a hand. “Peace?” Nebekah was slow. She hesitated once more, but at last, she reached out, taking hold of Sapphia’s wrist. Sapphia rapped her fingers around Nebekah’s wrist and shook her briskly. “That’s it,” she said with a small. “One small step.”

Nebekah was only uneasy as she shook her enemy’s hand. Perhaps Sapphia was right. Perhaps it was time for her to lay aside her hate on principle. Yet at the same time, in the back of her memory, she could hear her mother’s screams of agony bubble to the surface. She knew what she had to do. She had to give Sapphia a chance. It was the only way this quest would succeed after all. But what about afterwards? Could she honestly call a Kodiak a friend?



Kae’lee leaned over, peering around the ridge and into the mines. Link had to admit, the sight was appalling. He could not imagine that Kae’lee would take it well and was therefore unsurprised when she pulled back and hissed to her sisters, “On my signal, we attack.”

“Wait!” Link cried, grabbing her arms to keep her from signaling.

“For what?” she asked.

Now that she had her liberty back, Link could only hope she would listen to good reason. “My friends are trapped in those mines,” he explained urgently. “I don’t want them hurt.”

“We’re not attacking them, we’re attacking the foremen.”

“You could cause another cave in,” he told her.

“But –”

“Listen, help me get them out, then you can have a field day on the foremen, for all I care. Tyro and I will go around to all the other captive Gerudo and order them not to take orders. Just help me free them first.”

“I don’t –”

“My sister is trapped in the caves,” he interrupted. “She’s a Gerudo warrior of the Orca Pride. I just found her again. I really don’t want to lose her before I get to know her.”

She examined his earnest face for a moment. After giving the matter some thought, she pulled his hands away from her arms, her fingers momentarily brushing against Link’s palms, which sent two shivers of joy down his spine. “All right,” she said. “We’ll dig your friends out first.”

“Thank you.”

“But then we attack.”

“By all means.”

Kae’lee turned to look up at the mines. “Where are they?”

Carefully, Link scanned the rock wall, his blue eyes traveling across the numerous holes that made the entire complex look like some sort of airy cheese. After a moment or two, he spotted a collapsed opening nearby. “That’s got to be it,” he said, pointing. “They’re in there.”

“Let’s move,” Kae’lee ordered her Gerudo sisters.

With that, the group slowly began to move forward, making their way to the opening indirectly. Link led the pack, bounding over the rocks and stones with greater agility than he had previously thought himself to possess. He was a bit surprised with the urgency tugging at his throat. After all, Mika was still a relative stranger, but he was compelled to save her. And Tyro. Well, Link couldn’t admit to thinking of Tyro as a friend, but he had promised Talon he would rescue the playboy. If nothing else, Link wanted to be a man of his word.

Unfortunately, right as Link arrived at the collapsed cave, so did a tubby guard with a disgruntled expression. “Who are you?”

“Link,” he replied. “I work for Ari. He sent me here to deal with the two problems in this cave.”

“Someone’s already used that one on me today. How do I know you work for Ari?”

“Well…” Link floundered for a moment. He turned over his shoulder and saw the Saber Tooth warriors arrayed behind him. “Ask them,” he said. “Order them to tell you who sent me.”

The guard narrowed his eyes and, for a moment, Link was afraid that he wouldn’t take the bait. Much to his relief, however, he turned to Kae’lee. “Tell me truthfully, who sent this boy here?”

Without missing a beat, Kae’lee replied, “Ari.”

“Tell me truthfully, duckie, why did Ari send him here?”

“To deal with the prisoners you have caught in the cave.”

The guard scratched the back of his head, wrinkling up his already ugly face into a virtual prune. “I wouldn’t imagine Ari sending a boy to do a man’s work,” he muttered dully.

“Well, I’m here,” Link replied dryly. “Return to your duties.”

“You be careful. That woman in there is feisty.”

“I think I can manage,” Link told him.

“Right then.” And without further ado, the guard turned around and sloped away, back into the mines.

“Men are so stupid,” Kae’lee hissed.

“Hey,” Link shot back, “I believe that plan was my idea.”

“Some men,” Kae’lee amended quickly.

Carefully, Link crept over the unsteady rocks on the ground, inching his way to the collapsed entrance to the mine. “Mika?” he called softly to the rocks. “Tyro? Can you hear me?”

For a painful moment, there was no response and then, “Link?” It was definitely Mika’s voice.

“It’s me. We’re going to dig you out.”

“I’m so glad you came,” Tyro’s voice called.

“Just hold tight,” Link told them.

He continued. “You have no idea how glad I am you came. I am so, so glad that you…ow!”

“Don’t hurt him, Mika,” Link sighed. He turned to face the Gerudo. “Help me, please.”

They all turned and looked to Kae’lee. She nodded. “Come on, let’s help him get them out.” At once, the warriors descended on the mouth of the cave, slowly removing rocks in a joint effort to rescue Mika and Tyro.

Link grabbed hold of a rock. He gathered his strength and tried to heft it up, but despite the strain on his shoulders, he could not lift it. There was a soft pop and he was fairly certain that his new wound had opened again. Cringing, he pressed a hand to his shoulder, feeling the throb. Yet, with his other hand, he continued to tug on the stone fruitlessly. Kae’lee walked over. She picked up the stone with both hands and together, the two of them managed to roll it off the pile. It tumbled across the ground, coming to a stop right at a pair of black boots.

“Well, this is most interesting.” In unison, both Link and Kae’lee looked up to find Ari standing a few paces away, his arms folded across his chest. “You failed to kill him. Although not for lack of trying, I see.”

Kae’lee lifted her chin. “Link ordered us to –”

“So,” Ari interrupted. “My order was countermanded? Unfortunate. I was hoping this could be done quickly.”

“Try doing your own work for a change,” Link sneered.

“It seems I shall have to,” Ari said. With a flourish, he removed his long, billowing cape, setting it down on the rocks.

Link stepped forward, but Kae’lee grabbed his elbow. “You’re injured,” she whispered. “You can’t fight him.”

“I’ve been in worse shape than this,” Link replied. He gently pried his arm loose from her grasp and stepped forward. Ari appeared to be unarmed, so Link slowly removed his sword, which he had recovered, from its sheath and set it down on the ground.

Ruefully, Ari smiled. He reached into his pocket and removed two small chunks of silver metal. Link thought he would cast them aside, but much to his surprise, he wrapped each fist around the chunks and stepped forward. With an authoritative punch, Ari hit Link square in the chest. Link flew back, hitting the rocks with a loud crash, sending the Gerudo scattering. The air was completely knocked out of his lungs and for a second, Link flailed there, certain that he was dead. His breath returned, but with it came a sharp pain in his chest, a severe throb from where Ari had hit him.

Ari leaned over the rock at his feet. With complete ease, he managed to lift the stone that Link and Kae’lee had struggled with. And then, Link realized what was happening. It was Din Silver in Ari’s hands, enhancing his strength tenfold. As though he were throwing nothing more than a child’s rubber ball, Ari hurled the stone at Link. Link just barely managed to roll out of the way, the blood from his shoulder wound smearing across the rocks. The stone hit beside him and shattered. Large chunks of it impacted his torso, a few of the smaller pieces embedding themselves painfully into his skin.

Link tried to push himself up to his feet, but found that he could not. His strength had completely waned, tortured and cut up by the attack from Ari. He lay there, wheezing and doing his best to ignore the pain wracking his body. “It’s time to die,” Ari said dramatically.

He just barely managed to conjure up enough air to laugh. “So that’s it?” he asked. “With an overly melodramatic and overused cliché, you kill me?”

“No, I don’t think so,” Ari replied. “I don’t want to just kill you. You lied to me and I don’t tolerate that. No, I want to hurt you. I want your last moments of life to be humiliating.”

“And turning me into cheese wasn’t what you had in mind?”

“I think I can do better than that.” He turned to look at Kae’lee. “You’ve always fancied her. I think she’ll do it. You,” he called, beckoning to Kae’lee. “I order you to kill Link.”

Kae’lee folded her arms across her chest. “No.”

“I…” Ari blinked in surprise. “I order you to kill Link.”

“And I said no,” Kae’lee answered.

“What? You can’t do that. I gave you a direct order.”

“Sorry,” Kae’lee told him. “I’m not taking orders any more. This time, I’m giving them.” She turned to look at the other Gerudo warriors. “Attack!” she shouted at the top of her lungs.

“Ya!” Instantly, a swarm of very angry Saber Tooth women fell upon Ari. He was swept away from the scene, like a man drowning in the current of a river, his screams echoing throughout the mines, half drowned out by the repeated cries of the Gerudo “Ya!”

Link gasped, collapsing against the rocks, his breath ragged and strained. He felt a hand press into his. Weakly, he turned his head to one side and saw a hand reaching out from in between the rocks. “Link?” Mika called, her hand fumbling to find his pulse. Straining his eyes, he could just barely make out her face peering through the rocks.

Gently, he squeezed her hand. “I’m okay,” he promised, feeling as though that were a bit of an exaggeration. Still, in spite of all the pain and stone piercing his body, Link could not help but smile, lifting his head to watch as Kae’lee skillfully led her sisters in taking back the mines. Vaguely, he wondered what they would do to Ari, but at the moment, he didn’t care enough to ask.



Fortunately, the Saber Tooth healer and her apprentice were highly skilled. Within a few days, Link had made an excellent recovery. As had Nassan. Back on her feet again, the Saber Tooth Alpha, who turned out to be a radiant woman once she was cleaned up, assembled the entire Pride to publicly thank Link and his companions for rescuing them from Twinrova’s spell and Ari’s tyranny. The entry hall that had been transformed into a harem was restored to a beautiful throne room. Nassan, dressed as a warrior once more, her long red hair falling over her shoulder in gentle waves, stood up on a purple dais. The fellowship stood in a line before her. Behind them, the entire Saber Tooth Pride assembled.

“Today we honor these great heroes who have saved us from the hands of the Twinrova sisters,” Nassan announced. There was something about her that was hauntingly familiar, yet Link couldn’t quite place it. He felt as though he had met her before. “We honor Nebekah of the Jaguar Pride.” Nebekah stood forward. “Sapphia of the Kodiak Pride.” Sapphia stepped beside Nebekah. “Mika of the Orca Pride.” Mika joined them. “Link of the Dragon Pride,” she said with a slight smile as Link stood beside his sister. “And Tyro.”

“I’d be more than willing to join this Pride,” Tyro said, joining the others with a smarmy smile and wink in the direction of the beautiful Alpha.

“Pervert,” Mika mumbled.

“Thanks to you,” Nassan said, “our Pride has been restored. We are forever in your debt and you will always be welcome here.”

“Thank you, Alpha,” Nebekah said, crossing her wrists in front of her chest and bowing.

“As a token of our appreciation, we offer you this gift.” Nassan turned to Kae’lee, who stood at her side. Kae’lee, in Link’s opinion, looked even lovelier in her warrior gear than in the silk dress Ari had forced her to wear. She proudly stepped forward, handing Nassan a small, wooden box. Nassan, in turn, handed the box down to Link.

He looked down at the lid, which was engraved with Gerudo runes and symbols. Directly in the middle of it all, though, he caught a glimpse of Hylian writing. “…it cannot be held, yet it can fill the air…” he read quietly.

“Go on,” Nassan told him. “Open it.”

Obediently, Link opened the box. From inside he produced a small sliver of dark amber glass, glowing slightly of its own volition. “Your Shard?” he asked.

Nassan nodded. “It is yours,” she told him. “I know of your quest. Far be it for me to make it more difficult by denying you that which you seek.”

“Thank you, Alpha,” he said.

“Know always that the Saber Tooth Pride is your friend,” Nassan said. She raised her arms and from behind, the Gerudo warriors let out a single, united war cry of “Ya!”, scaring Link out of his skin. He turned around, along with his companions, and saw all of them, their right fists pumping in the air as they cheered.

There was a certain exhilaration that filled Link’s chest. Everything was so exciting that he forgot about the quest as festivities were held in his honor. It wasn’t until much later in the night, when most of the warriors began to drift away to bed, that Link remembered the wooden box with its cryptic message. As the last celebrants dwindled, he sat down on a pillow and took out the box, examining it. “…it cannot be held, yet it can fill the air…” What did that mean, exactly?

“How are you feeling?” Mika asked, plopping down next to him.

“Glad not to be fighting Ari any more,” Link told her. “What did they do to him anyway?”

“I think,” she said, “we shouldn’t ask. It might be insulting.”

“Okay,” he agreed. He found that he wasn’t nearly as concerned about it as he should have been.

“What are you doing?”

“Oh, I’m just trying to figure this out,” he said, pointing to the inscription on the box.

“You can read that?”

“Yeah.”

“What does it say?”

“‘…it cannot be held, yet it can fill the air…’”

Mika frowned. “What does that mean?”

“Well, I’m not sure,” Link explained, “but I think it’s part of a massive riddle.”

“Massive riddle?”

“Yeah.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, I remember back on the pedestal for the Orca Shard, it said, ‘One thing stands between the stone and the grave…’”

“It did?”

Link nodded. “Also in ancient Hylian.”

“And you think the messages are connected?”

“Exactly. Like, this is some kind of hint. …‘One thing stands between the stone and the grave…’ and ‘…it cannot be held, yet it can fill the air…’”

She scowled. “Like some kind of force field?”

“I’m not sure,” Link admitted.

“Well, there will probably be more clues, won’t there?”

“One would assume.”

Mika shrugged. “Then, we’ll just have to wait and fit the pieces together when we have them.”

“I guess so.”

Across the room, Tyro was celebrating a bit more than the others. He had already consumed a massive quantity of wine and was currently working on another flagon, which wobbled as he loudly crooned a raunchy tavern song to a pretty Saber Tooth who seemed absolutely fascinated with him. “Unbelievable,” Mika muttered, glaring daggers at them from across the room.

“I know,” Link said with a slight laugh. “He’s a good singer.”

Giving him a slightly dirty look, Mika stood up. “He’s going to be in no condition to travel tomorrow.”

“I think he’ll be all right. Something tells me he’s done worse damage to himself in the past.”

With a soft, “Hmph,” Mika walked away, marching across the room in the direction of the debauchery.

Link smiled absently and leaned back on his elbows. He had only had one goblet of wine, but he could feel the pleasant warmth of drink beginning to take effect. Lazily, he watched as Mika pulled Tyro away from his Saber Tooth conquest, angrily berating him for his drunkenness and his bad singing. She was surprisingly shrill, but other than the Gerudo who she had tossed aside, no one else really seemed to take much notice of the scene.

“You know,” a voice said from behind. “We never really got to finish our fight.” Link sat up and saw Kae’lee sit down beside him. “I would have really beaten the snot out of you.”

“Why?” he asked. “Because I’m a fluffy pink bunny?”

“No,” she replied. “I’m just better than you.”

“I guess we’ll never know,” he said.

Kae’lee shrugged. “I don’t know about that.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well,” she said slowly, “you could always come back some time.”

“Come back?”

“Challenge me to a fight.”

He stared at her blankly for a moment. “Challenge you to a…” And then it hit him. He remembered the Saber Tooth traditions that Nebekah had explained to him only a few days ago, though it felt like a few years ago. “Yeah,” he said slowly.

“You think?”

“I’d like that.”

The fire crackled. It wasn’t because of the meager dry twigs they had managed to find. It was because Link sat beside it, tossing shriveled leaves from an ancient palm tree into the flames. He liked the way they popped and sparked, shooting little jets of silvery stars up into the night air like little firecrackers. These tiny displays were somewhat useful to fill the long stretches of silence. For several hours now, he and Mika had sat, awkwardly attempting to make conversation while the others tried to squeeze in a few precious moments of sleep. It had started with polite small talk. Now it had lapsed into an uncomfortable silence, broken only by Link’s occasional pyromania.

Mika stood guard, alert and tense, watching the horizon. Link appreciated her staunch training, but somehow, he doubted very much that anyone would come upon their little oasis campsite. Twinrova was the only real threat right now, and Link suspected the sisters were too busy laying a trap to wage an open war against them tonight. He had said as much, but Mika insisted on standing at attention. This must have reflected her upbringing, he supposed. She had been raised by warriors, after all, whereas he had lived a relatively easy life among the Kokiri.

“Why are you still up?” Mika asked suddenly, breaking into Link’s little reverie. Immediately, he dropped his handful of leaves. “Not to say that I mind,” she added quickly.

“It’s okay,” Link assured her with a slight smile.

“I was just wondering.”

He shrugged. “I tend to avoid sleeping a lot these days.”

“Why?”

“Nightmares.”

“Oh.” She paused, a spark of curiosity appearing in her eyes, so very much like Link’s own. “About what?”

“The things I’ve done, I guess,” he admitted.

“What do you mean?”

“All the monsters I fought.” He hesitated to mention the friends he had lost and the childhood he had been robbed of. Those were demons of a different sort, no less potent than a dragon or a Moblin.

“I suppose I understand that,” she said.

“Really?”

She frowned slightly. “Well, I try to. But I’ve never really fought a monster myself, so I can’t say.”

“Well, I’m sure you will, if you keep following me.”

“Hey, you’re the one following me. This is my quest.” This was true enough. It had been Mika’s adoptive mother, Alpha Medea of the Orca Pride, who had charged Mika with the task of assembling the Gerudo Topaz before the Twinrova sisters could. Link was merely tagging along.

“I guess so,” he said, pulling out the two Shards they had recovered so far. “I’m stupid like that. Can’t resist the opportunity to travel around collecting things.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know.” He tried to fit the two pieces together. Their edges were jagged and uneven, like a puzzle. It was possible that these two Shards didn’t even touch when the entire Topaz was assembled, but Link was determined. He turned the pieces over and over in his hands, continually rubbing them against each other, hoping for a satisfying click of some kind. “Did a lot of it during the whole Ganondorf thing.”

“No,” she said. “I mean, why are you coming with me?”

“You’re my sister,” he replied.

“We barely know each other.”

“True,” he sighed. “I guess, I’d just like the chance to know you a little bit. Seems important.”

“We’re never going to be true brother and sister, you know.”

“Yeah, I know. But maybe we can be friends.” Afraid of what she might say, he looked down at his hands, busily working the Shards. Without his gloves on, he could clearly see the blue lines of the Hylian symbol for peace that his parents had apparently tattooed into his skin when he was a baby. They had given Mika the other half. Again, he wondered what had given them the foresight to do so. Had they known the two would be separated? Link was grateful for their action, regardless of the motivation, and not just because it had helped him to find Mika. Without their matching tattoos, completing the rune, it was likely Mika might have killed Link.

“A few weeks ago, if a man had asked me to be friends, I would have spit in his face,” she muttered.

“Well, at least there’s some improvement there.”

“It’s very strange.”

“I guess it is,” he mumbled.

“You’re not…”

“Not what?” he asked.

Mika sighed, as if the admission were painful. “You’re not as bad as I thought you were. Men, I mean.”

“Careful, you might actually start to like us.”

“Not as a whole,” she added quickly. “But you. You’re not like the men I’ve been told about.”

Link glanced over his shoulder to the dark, silhouetted forms of their traveling companions, huddling in blankets. “What about Tyro?” he wondered.

She rolled her eyes. “Tyro is exactly like the men I’ve been told about,” she said with a groan in her voice.

“I’ve sort of noticed that you don’t like him.”

“That’s an understatement.”

“He’s obnoxious, I’ll give you that,” Link told her. “But Mika, you can’t blame him for being a little defensive.”

“Why not?”

“Well, your people did try to kill him.”

“It wasn’t personal,” Mika said with a wave of her hand.

“Not personal? You tried to deprive the man of his life. How much more personal does it get?”

“It’s an Orca initiation,” she said softly. Link sensed danger now. They were drifting precariously close to a topic that was doubtlessly still sore with Mika; the death of her beloved Gerudo sister Alcia.

“Well,” he said quickly, trying to steer away, “it seems to me that maybe that particular tradition is starting to evolve. I mean, this is your initiation now. Finding the rest of the Shards of the Topaz. If you ask me, it’s a definite improvement. No less dangerous, mind you, but definitely less violent.”

“I’ve always been a bit different,” Mika mumbled. “It’s poetic that my initiation should be so different.”

“Was it hard not being born a Gerudo?”

Mika shook her head. “Not hard. No one ever taunted me or gave me a hard time for it.”

“I sense there’s a ‘but’ coming.”

“But,” she continued, “I suppose I always felt a bit out of place. So I tried to compensate by being the best I could.”

“That makes perfect sense.”

“And I was.”

“Modest too,” he said with a smile.

“I had to prove that a Thin Blood was just as good as a purebred Gerudo. And I think I did.”

“What’s a Thin Blood?”

Both Mika and Link turned around to find that Tyro had woken. He was moving forward, the orange glow of the fire falling over his handsome features, striking his cheekbones at a generous angle and casting a soft radiance on his auburn hair. “What do you want?” Mika asked him sharply.

“It’s my turn for the watch,” he said simply, looking at Link rather than at his sparring companion.

“Have a seat,” Link said, gesturing to the space around the fire.

“Aren’t you going to bed?”

Link shook his head. “Maybe in a bit. We were just talking.”

“I heard,” Tyro answered, sitting down by the fire and warming his hands over the flames. “You still haven’t answered my question, Mika.”

“What?” she snapped.

“What’s a Thin Blood?”

“A Thin Blood,” she said tightly, “is a woman who lives among the Gerudo, but has no Gerudo blood.”

“A slave?” he asked.

“No,” she said hotly. “A Gerudo. Like me.”

“And how does a woman become a Thin Blood?”

“She’s adopted into the Pride,” Mika explained, speaking very slowly, as if to a four year old. “She comes to live with them and they accept her as one of their own. Like me.”

“Are all Thin Bloods children with unpleasant dispositions?” Tyro sneered.

“No,” Link said quickly, hoping to cut off a fight that might wake Nebekah and Sapphia. “I’ve seen lots of adult Thin Bloods among the Jaguar Pride. Nebekah says most of them arrive as teenagers. They’re usually young girls hoping to avoid arranged marriages.”

“Well,” Tyro said, “that’s one way to do it. I’d imagine I’d do the same thing if I were in an arranged marriage.”

Link bit his tongue to keep from making a reply. He could imagine Tyro in many situations. An engagement seemed a bit casual. He was a bit of a playboy back in the village. It seemed plausible that he could be engaged to a different girl every week, given his reputation. “Yeah,” was all he said. “So how long do you think it’ll be before we arrive in Jaguar territory?”

Mika shrugged. “I don’t know. I’ve never been there before.”

“Me neither,” Tyro said. “You’re the only one who has.”

“I’ve never approached it from this side of the Valley before,” Link admitted. They were just coming from the Saber Tooth stronghold, after a somewhat lengthy ordeal with an unpleasant foreigner named Ari. Link was not sorry to put that experience behind him, although he found himself constantly thinking about a warrior he had met named Kae’lee. There was a click. Link looked down to see that the two pieces of the Topaz had finally come together, forming a slightly larger whole.

He turned to look out across the expanse in the direction they had been heading all day in an exhausting march. The Valley seemed broader and wider than he could ever have imagined it. Smooth stretches of sand gave way to choppy rock quarries in an endless pattern of hard and soft. As he looked out across the darkness, he saw whispers of silver rising from the desert plane. He frowned slightly. He had no idea what they were, but they were beautiful in an entrancing sort of way. They moved like dancing figures to the tune of a sitar and again, Link was reminded of a certain Saber Tooth who had caught his eye.

“Well,” Tyro said, “You can ask Nebekah in the morning. She seems to know everything about this blasted Valley. In the meanwhile, I suggest that you get some rest. Really, everyone needs to sleep. Even the Hero of Time.”

Link didn’t particularly feel like arguing the point. “All right,” he said, slowly standing up. “But you two keep it down when you fight, okay?”

Tyro laughed, but Mika gave him a dirty look. “Get some sleep,” she told him tightly.

“Wake me in a few hours. At sunrise,” Link implored them. Slowly, he made his way over to the pile of blankets reserved for him, tucking the attached Shards into his sheath. Of course, he didn’t want to sleep. He never did. Then again, there was always the chance that the demons would be kept at bay. Lately, he had been dreaming about Kae’lee, after all.



She chanced to catch a glance at her reflection in a mirror as she was led through the corridors of the Jaguar stronghold. Her face was full and round, her cheeks flushed a delicate, rosy pink. She was not young, not in the slightest, but rather a certain healthy and handsome matron with her light red hair intricately woven behind her head and the back of her neck. No one, not even the mirror, could detect the slightest trace of decay. The spell was firmly in place and grew powerful with every passing battle. When Kotake smiled, the borrowed face in the mirror smiled back.

Tiama, the healer of the Orca Pride, was a bit of a recluse like all the other Orca. She had never left her stronghold, so her face was not widely known in the Gerudo world though her name garnered a certain level of respect. This had made her an ideal disguise, one Kotake had put much thought into once she was finally supplied with the proper ingredients to finally restore a measure of beauty to her ancient face. Hungrily, she had longed to assume the role of a much younger Gerudo, but there had only been enough supplies, at the time, for one of the sisters to be restored to youth. Koume, for all her blundering foolishness, had managed to secure herself the role in the plan that would require beauty.

Kotake ground her teeth bitterly as she thought about the gorgeous form that Koume had assumed. Curse her, where ever she was, for her luck. Oh well. In due time, one their vessel had birthed Ganondorf renewed, Kotake supposed that she would have ample power enough to restore her good looks from the days gone by. A second pang of bitterness struck her stomach though, as she thought of the beautiful, fertile vessel. A servant, she might add, who had so far managed to let her down considerably by not collecting the Saber Tooth Shard. A servant who was suffering, perhaps, from second thoughts. It was unfortunate that the fellowship had chosen the Jaguar as their next stop on their quest to gather the Shards, but Kotake had decided to use this disadvantage as an opportunity to both cause trouble for them and perhaps to keep a closer eye on her hidden vessel.

“This way, mother,” the Delta girl who had been leading Kotake said, gesturing grandly to the Alpha’s reception chamber. She cringed. How she hated the Jaguar custom of addressing everyone in familial terms. In her opinion, the Jaguar were no more Gerudo than the bloodthirsty Kodiak. In her day, things had been different, better. And with any luck, they would be so again.

Kotake stepped into the chamber. The Jaguar were not as decadent as the Saber Tooth, but there was a certain measure of extravagance to the room. The stone walls boasted silk banners, displaying the Jaguar colors and the Jaguar symbol alongside of the Gerudo crescent. A pale pink carpet covered the path from the entrance to a dais, on which an elaborate throne, carved of ivory, waited. As Kotake took the path, she noticed with a level of satisfaction, that the entire room was lined with Delta guards, all of them holding drawn swords, as if expecting an attack at any minute.

“Alpha,” the escort called from the doorway, “Tiama of the Orca Pride.”

“Tiama,” Kotake recited, “daughter of Echidna, healer of the Orca Pride.” She crossed her wrists before her chest, bowing. Rather to her chagrin, she had been forbidden to carry weapons into the Alpha’s chamber.

“Tiama, daughter of Echidna,” the guard continued, “Alpha Petaleen of the Jaguar Pride.”

She straightened up and looked to the woman sitting in the throne. Petaleen was a handsome woman herself, somewhere in her late forties. Her hair was a mousy auburn color, her eyes piercing blue. Around her neck she wore a thick gold chain. Dangling from the chain was what could only be her Shard. It glittered, bright and amber, so easily within Kotake’s reach. She forced her hands to restrain themselves, but oh did she want it. With all respect due to a woman of Tiama’s age, Petaleen rose from her throne. Kotake was pleased to see her clad, not in delicate finery, but in battle array. “Tiama, daughter of Echidna,” she said, “Your reputation proceeds you.”

“You flatter me,” Kotake said with an ingratiating smile.

“Not at all,” Petaleen assured her. “I am told you that are a fine healer and a wise woman.”

“Thank you, Alpha.”

“And that you are a recluse,” Petaleen continued, her voice taking on a dangerously sharp edge. “That you have never left the Orca compound in fifty years. Is that true?”

For a moment, Kotake was silent. She knew she had a delicate game to play and her best maneuver was the careful one. “Yes,” she said slowly. “I suppose there is a measure of truth to that.”

“I find it odd,” Petaleen said, “that you should choose now of all times to come pay us a visit.”

“Of all times?” Kotake asked.

“Has the news not reached your isolated little corner of the Valley?” Petaleen hissed.

“We receive little news,” Kotake answered in Tiama’s voice.

“The Jaguar are facing civil war. Half of my people have turned against me. And now I receive a mysterious visit? You must excuse me for being a bit skeptical of the timing of your visit.”

“I assure you, I am not sent here as some kind of assassin,” Kotake said.

“Who has sent you?”

“I have been sent here by my Alpha, the wise Medea.”

“For what purpose?”

“To warn you of a great threat against your very life.”

“My life?”

“Medea’s daughter,” Kotake explained, “failed to pass her initiation into the Orca Pride.” It was best to keep to the truth as much as possible.

“And yet she lives?”

Kotake had not banked on Petaleen knowing that the initiation was a fight to the death. “There were unusual circumstances,” she muttered. “But needless to say, she lives still.”

“And?” Petaleen demanded impatiently.

“And,” Kotake continued, “She’s taken up with the Jaguar Beta.”

“Nebekah,” Petaleen sighed.

“She’s taken it into her head to do Nebekah a favor by killing you,” Kotake said. “So that she may become Alpha in your place.”

“I knew there might be trouble from Nebekah, but I hardly expected it to be a rogue Orca.” Petaleen folded her hands behind her back and paced the length of the dais, apparently deep in thought. “What does Medea want me to do?”

“Medea is an honorable woman. She will have nothing to do with assassination plots or those who try to assassinate.”

“She has disowned this daughter?”

“Medea is childless,” Kotake said carefully. Again, a half truth, she supposed, would suffice.

“That gives me leave to do as I please to this assassin,” Petaleen mumbled.

“Precisely.”

Petaleen turned out to the room, sweeping her gaze from side to side at the guards lining the walls. “Go into the territory. Seek out an Orca warrior and bring her to me. I want her alive.”

“Alive?” Kotake repeated. She had rather hoped for a messy, violent death for the inconvenient Mika.

“I like to look into the eyes of my enemy,” Petaleen said boldly. “I will decide her fate to her face.”

“A noble sentiment,” Kotake replied, a bit disappointed.

“In the meantime,” Petaleen continued as her guards began to sweep out of the room, “you are my guest, mother.”

“Thank you, Alpha,” Kotake answered, cringing inside.

“I only wish you could have visited us under better circumstances.”

“Unfortunately, we rarely get to choose our circumstances.”

“True enough,” Petaleen said with a nod. “For the majority of the time. Still, there are occasions…” Petaleen frowned, breaking off. She turned to look away from Kotake, a distant expression in her eyes.

Now what did that mean? Kotake observed the Alpha and suddenly found herself more curious than she normally would have been. Perhaps she would stick around a bit longer than planned. There was certainly no harm in observing. And anyway, if she and Koume were able to do as they pleased, restoring the Gerudo nation to the glory it so richly deserved, under the strong command of Ganondorf, she would have to decide if this was the kind of warrior she wanted in her new nation. For now, she decided to withhold judgment on Petaleen.



“Are they going to try to kill me?” Tyro asked, stumbling over some loose shale along the path.

“No,” Nebekah assured him with a smile. “The Jaguar are peaceful. We live close to the village and see men all the time.”

“Anyway,” Link added, looking back over his shoulder at Tyro, “you belong to Nebekah. They wouldn’t dare harm the property of the Jaguar Beta.”

“Also true,” Nebekah said with a laugh.

“Great,” Tyro grumbled.

Nebekah merely smiled and continued on. She was leading the pack. They had started out shortly after sunrise, following a meager breakfast of cold yams, the last of their supplies from the Saber Tooth Pride. It didn’t matter though. They were already near Jaguar territory, and soon, Nebekah reflected, they would be enjoying the warm hospitality of Alpha Miral, her best friend. They would be treated to fruit and bread and plenty of hot cider.

She was anxious to get home. Not so much because she was homesick and lonely. Nebekah was constantly traveling across the Valley and into Hyrule itself on various missions on behalf of her Pride. No, the real reason she wanted to get back to the Jaguar compound was to show off her Pride to the others. She certainly wanted to prove that not all Gerudo Prides were barbaric like the Orca or extravagant like the Saber Tooth. She wanted them to see a working, peaceful society, every bit as sophisticated and as advanced as the Hylian villages.

Absently, she glanced over at Sapphia, walking alongside Mika and discussing big game hunting. Nebekah was determined to show the Kodiak that the Jaguar were a far superior Pride. True, she had agreed to lay aside her animosity for Sapphia, based solely on the principle that she was the Kodiak Beta, but nevertheless, she couldn’t forget that their Prides had been enemies during Ganondorf’s time and that the Kodiak had been responsible for the death of nearly a third of the Jaguar population, including Nebekah’s own mother. Some hurts simply didn’t go away. They ran far too deeply. Nebekah would find the best in Sapphia, but not in the Kodiak as a whole. That was something she could never do.

“Who’s the Alpha of the Jaguar Pride,” Mika asked.

“Her name is Miral,” Nebekah answered proudly. “She became Alpha after the Kodiak killed her mother. She’s a good friend. There will be no problem convincing her to give us her Shard. She loves blondie here.” She jerked her head in Link’s direction with a wink.

“Now that’s what I like to hear,” Tyro drawled.

“Miral is known for being wise beyond her years,” Sapphia chimed in. She and Nebekah exchanged a look. Nebekah forced a smile, but a small part of her could never stop wondering what Sapphia’s ulterior motive was for complimenting Miral. “I’ve heard of her many overtures to the Hylian king.”

“Overtures?” Mika repeated.

Nebekah shrugged. “Miral has taken up the mantel of her mother. She seeks for a way in which the Gerudo and the Hylians can live in peace. As it is, the Jaguar have been coexisting with the villagers of Kakariko for years, right next door.”

“Oh,” Mika said suddenly. “Is that the border of your territory?” She pointed up a head.

“Yes,” Nebekah answered, but a slow frown marred her face. Along the border, a series of tents had been set in a circle. Surrounding the tents were lines of briar that had been uprooted and arranged like a protective barrier. Several Delta warriors could be seen moving in a slow march around the perimeter. “That’s not right,” she mumbled to herself.

“What’s going on there?” Link asked, coming to a halt beside his friend.

“I don’t know,” Nebekah replied.

Suddenly, there was an uproar from the tent city. Clearly, the travelers had been seen approaching. “They don’t sound too happy,” Tyro said, inching his way behind Nebekah. Despite his cowardice, Tyro seemed to be right. The cries were angry and almost immediately, a line of armed warriors began to make their way in the direction of the fellowship.

“The most peaceful Pride, huh?” Mika droned.

“I don’t understand what’s going on,” Nebekah insisted. As the line drew closer, she recognized the figure in the lead. It was Deidre, the Gamma, third in command of the Pride after Miral and Nebekah herself. “Deidre!” Nebekah called, raising her voice. “It’s Nebekah!”

Deidre slowed down, the warriors behind her gradually lowering their weapons. They continued to approach, but there was a definite look of relief on Deidre’s face. “Well, that’s better,” Link mumbled.

“Who’s she?” Tyro whispered.

“That’s Gamma Deidre,” Nebekah explained.

And by this point, Deidre was standing before them. She was a pretty little thing, skinny and agile, with long, willow red hair, hanging loose behind her shoulders. Her dress was simple, a tan blouse and a brown skirt wrapped around her tiny waist. Gracefully for someone so small, she raised her twin blades, crossing them in front of her chest and bowing slightly. “Nebekah,” she said, “thank Din you’re still alive.”

Nebekah crossed her wrists, returning the gesture. “Why wouldn’t I be alive?” she laughed. “I was just traveling to the Orca. I got a little sidetracked, admittedly, but that’s neither here nor there.”

“Who are these people?” Deidre asked, looking around at the others, her eyes lingering for a moment on Link.

“Oh, that’s Tyro,” she said gesturing behind her. “He was a gift to me from the Orca Alpha. This is Mika of the Orca Pride.” She hesitated for a moment. “Sapphia of the Kodiak. And you remember blondie, here.”

“What are you doing, traveling together?” Deidre asked, her thin eyebrows lifting slightly.

“Unfortunately,” Nebekah explained, “we need to collect the Shards from each Pride. Twinrova has returned. We need to reassemble the Topaz before they can. Alpha Medea thinks it’s the only way to destroy them for good.”

“I see,” Deidre muttered.

“We’re on our way to speak to Miral.”

Deidre was silent for a moment. “I’m so sorry, Nebekah.”

“Sorry,” Tyro repeated. “Sorry? Why are you sorry? Why is she sorry?” He turned his gaze in all directions, looking distraught.

Nebekah furrowed her brow. “Deidre? What’s going on?”

“Miral is dead,” Deidre told her.

And instantly, Nebekah felt her head spin. She would have fallen, but Link planted a strong hand on her shoulder. Deidre’s words echoed, as if from far away, or as if Nebekah herself were at the bottom of a great chasm. It wasn’t possible. Miral couldn’t be dead. Miral was just playing some prank, the way she used to as a child, always slipping spiders into an elder’s soup, always filling some poor trainee’s shoes with sand. “No,” she whispered.

“It’s true,” Deidre said gently.

“Well, what happened?” Sapphia demanded.

“Don’t give me orders, Kodiak,” Deidre hissed.

“What happened to Miral?” Link pried, gently.

Deidre looked at him for a moment, then turned to Nebekah. “Murdered,” she said.

“What?!” Nebekah stood up, taking a step toward Deidre, practically ready to wring her neck if only to hear it wasn’t true.”

“Miral was murdered,” Deidre insisted.

Heat rose in Nebekah’s throat, keeping her from uttering more than a single word. “Who?”

“Petaleen,” Deidre answered. “She killed Miral and assumed the role of Alpha. Half of the Pride is loyal to her now. But we,” she gestured to her followers and to the camp beyond, “know the truth. We won’t rest until Miral’s death is brought to justice. Petaleen and her lackeys must pay for what they’ve done.”

All around, the other members of the Jaguar Pride pumped their fists into the air, crying out in agreement. “Petaleen,” Nebekah repeated thickly.

“Yes.”

“Who’s Petaleen?” Link inquired carefully.

“A Thin Blood,” Deidre explained. “A Delta warrior. One of the few elders to survive the Kodiak attack.”

“Why would she do something like that?”

Deidre shrugged her thin shoulders. “We don’t know. Petaleen’s always been discontent with our pacifist stance. She probably hopes to restore the blood thirsty ways of the Gerudo. There was a time when warriors moved up in rank through assassination.” She gave Sapphia a dark look. “The Kodiak still practice that.”

Link scowled. “Doesn’t that mean that Nebekah is the rightful Alpha?”

“Technically, yes,” Deidre answered. “But the trouble is, if she goes to claim that title, Petaleen will probably just have her killed. She’s already killed a good portion of my followers, anyone who threatens her place as the new Alpha of the Pride. Power is a funny thing. Once you get a taste for it, it’s hard to give up again. And you’ll do anything to keep it. Even kill your own sisters.”

“Of course,” Sapphia mumbled dourly, “this means Petaleen will have the Shard?”

“She has it,” Deidre replied.

“And here we thought this was going to be easy,” Link muttered.

“Hey,” Mika chimed in suddenly. “Where’s Tyro?”

And as they looked around, it was then they realized that the easy going Tyro, with his lazy smile and his drawl, was missing. Link looked urgently over at the warriors. “Did any of you see where he went? The other man who was with us just now?”

One of them pointed over her shoulder. “He headed off in that direction,” she said.

“That’s the direction of the compound,” Deidre says. “If he goes there, he’ll be killed. Petaleen hates men more than most Jaguars. I imagine that’s another custom she wants to restore.”

“We’ve got to find him,” Sapphia said.

Mika sighed. “I’ll go stop him.”

“Hurry back,” Link told her.

“And be careful,” Deidre added. “There are scouts for Petaleen all across the Valley.”



Tyro had absolutely no idea in what direction he was going. He couldn’t be sure if it was the right direction or not. He tried to remember everything Nebekah had told him about Jaguar territory, but it was all a blur now and he wasn’t going to go back to ask again. There was only one direction and it was forward from here on out. And so, one he went, trudging through the shale and sand, determined, one way or another, to find the Jaguar fortress.

Of course, some part of him felt a tad bit guilty for just up and leaving while the rest of them were dealing with what seemed like a very serious crisis, but he couldn’t expect them to understand. This was simply something he had to do and asking for permission would only lose him time. Not to mention the fact that they’d probably try to talk him out of it. They’d all give perfectly logical reasons for why he shouldn’t pursue this path, sane, rational explanations of the delicate political balance of the Gerudo Valley or something equally dull. He didn’t care. It had been pleasant fun, playing this game of heroics alongside Link, recovering the Shards and promising to save the world. But fun time was over.

“Tyro!”

He should have known they wouldn’t let him go so easily. Tyro did not turn to look over his shoulder. He kept on walking, hoping that the voice was disembodied and that it would fade into the nothingness behind him. Using his pole for support, he stumbled over the loose shale, the pieces of which were growing larger and larger as he went.

“Tyro!”

It was Mika’s voice, Tyro was sure of it. Why, of all people, would they send her after him when they knew only too well how much he detested the very sight of her as she strutted prettily through life, hating men and standing for everything that he was against. The last thing he needed right now was further irritation from her. To the best of his ability, he tried to speed up the pace, hoping that just maybe she hadn’t spotted him, but was merely calling out from some distance, expecting him to answer so that she could divine his position.

“Tyro!” No, the voice was right behind him.

He turned around, annoyed to find her fast approaching, her superior ease over the terrain making it absolutely unavoidable that she would catch him. “What?’ he snapped angrily.

“Just what do you think you’re doing?”

“Leaving,” he said.

“Where are you going?”

“To the Jaguar stronghold.”

“Why?”

“That’s none of your business.”

She came up to him, pulling herself up to her full height, looking him dead in the eye. “Of course it’s my business. I’ve been sent to bring you back.”

“Go back. Tell them you couldn’t find me.”

“And why would I do that?”

“Because I said so.”

“No.”

“Mika, I’m warning you…”

“What?” she asked, folding her arms. “You’re going to fight me? Come on, Tyro, we both know I’ll just kick your butt.”

“This is a personal matter.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Petaleen is my mother.” Tyro didn’t know what made him say it, but it just came tumbling out, followed immediately by a severe pang of regret and frustration. Of all the people to open up to, why was it always Mika? He stared at her, masking his own surprise to the best of his ability, which was considerable. Telling the truth to girls was always so irritating. He couldn’t think of what had possessed him to be so honest, other than the obvious fact that he really wanted nothing from Mika. Nothing but to be left alone.

“Your mother,” she said evenly.

“I think so. Her name was Petaleen.”

“And you’re assuming this is the same person?”

“It’s not a common name,” he said tightly. “And it’s Hylian in origin. Same alphabet.”

Mika frowned. “Could be,” she finally admitted. “Deidre did say that Petaleen was a Thin Blood.”

“She’s fighting back.”

“Fighting back?”

“Against her captors.”

“Tyro, I told you, the Gerudo don’t kidnap –”

“Well, apparently the Jaguar do.”

“You heard what Nebekah said,” she countered. “Thin Bloods are girls who willingly join the Gerudo.”

“To avoid arranged marriages,” Tyro grumbled. “I know, I know. But it doesn’t work.”

“Doesn’t work?”

“My mother was already married and had me. There’s nothing to escape there. She has to have been kidnapped.”

“Why? Why do you say that?”

“Because it’s the only thing that makes sense.”

“She could very well have left home of her own volition,” Mika countered. “She could have run away to join the Gerudo.”

“She wouldn’t do that.”

“How do you know?”

“I just do.”

“Tyro, you told me you don’t remember her. Isn’t it possible that just maybe she had that in her. For all you know, she left to get away from your father, even if she was married to him.”

“That’s ridiculous. My father was a kind, gentle man. There’s nothing to run away from. If she had wanted to leave, he would have helped her back the bags and hired a coach.”

“Tyro –”

“My father’s journal –”

“He wrote that she had been taken by the Gerudo. I know. But what if that means ‘taken in’ by the Gerudo?”

He pointed a sharp finger at her. “My mother did not abandon me,” he insisted angrily.

“You don’t know that.”

“I do!”

Mika raised an eyebrow. “It’s not at all possible in your vivid imaginings that maybe, just maybe, your mother wasn’t happy saddled with a husband and son? That maybe she wanted more out of life.”

“Don’t say that!” Tyro’s placid surface was cracking like ice and as hard as he wanted to maintain his cool, he found that he simply couldn’t. This was all too much. His mother was alive. She was being accused of a coup and murder. And now, now Mika was shattering the desperate hope that he had clung to, the hope that he could be the one to rescue his mother and redeem himself for a past of ignoring his father, wallowing away in misery. “There has to be an explanation,” he said slowly. “And I’m going to find it.”

“Tyro, whether she’s your mother or not, you’re still walking right into the middle of a dangerous conflict between members of the Jaguar Pride.”

“I don’t care.”

“Further,” she continued, “You don’t even know if it’s really your mother. It’s possible there could be another Petaleen.”

“It has to be her,” he whispered.

“Halt!” a voice shouted. Both Mika and Tyro turned around to see a small pack of Gerudo in Jaguar colors moving swiftly toward them. All of them had swords trained on the duo. “Who are you?” the leader of the group demanded. “Spies from the other side?”

“We’re not affiliated with the Jaguar,” Mika said quickly. “We’re here on behalf of the Orca Pride.”

The leader raised an eyebrow. “Orca Pride?” she repeated.

“Yes,” Mika said.

“And who are you?”

“I am Mika,” she told her. “Daughter of Medea.”

“We found the Alpha’s daughter!” the scout shouted. And suddenly, all of the Gerudo in the party descended on Mika and Tyro, throwing them down, face first, to the ground.

“Hey!” Mika shouted.

“What’s the big idea?” Tyro added, spitting sand from his mouth.

“We’ve been expecting you,” the scout said.

Mika craned her neck to look at them. “What?”

The leader put her hand on the back of Mika’s head, pressing her face into the ground. “Tie them up,” she instructed the others who immediately set to work binding Mika and Tyro’s wrists. “We’re taking you to see the Alpha.”

Tyro was uncertain of how to react to this sudden reception. In a way, he had gotten his wish. Now, for better or for worse, he was finally going to meet face to face his with mother, Petaleen. On the other hand, he didn’t particularly like the unkind reception. He glanced over at Mika as she was being bound. Her face was covered with grit and grim and she looked very confused. He hadn’t wanted to drag her into this mess with him. Desperately, he hoped this mess, whatever it was about, would all be cleared up once he was finally in the presence of his mother. This mess, and so many others, he reflected as he was pulled to his feet. Finally, he would learn the truth about his mother’s kidnapping. That would show Mika.



Link, Nebekah, and Sapphia were brought into the rebel compound once the matter of their identities had been cleared up. As far as Link could estimate, based on his, admittedly, limited experience with the Jaguar, about half of the Pride had assembled in the camp. Most of them were pleasant, familiar faces Link had encountered on his various trips to visit Nebekah, but there was something different about them now. The peace of the Jaguar had been dissolved and these long latent warriors had been forced to surface, hard and cold.

The trio was brought into Deidre’s tent. Resting on pillows, they were fed dates and cashews. Deidre herself disappeared after a few moments to alert the other rebels to their arrival. It wouldn’t do, she explained, for any of them to be attacked just because the Gerudo didn’t know that they were friends and not foes. She also wanted to send out a few more parties to try and locate Tyro and Mika, who had been gone for well over an hour now.

He didn’t have much of an appetite, but Link ate the food he was given, supposing that he might not know where his next meal was coming from. He and Sapphia politely accepted various offerings, but Nebekah would have none of it. She paced the length of the tent, her hands tightly clasped, muttering darkly to herself and occasionally cursing under her breath. Link knew all too well what she was going through. She and Miral had been such good friends. He knew the pain of losing someone that important. There were words of encouragement and comfort he could offer, but something told Link to keep his mouth shut. There were times, he understood, when such comfort was unwelcome and he knew Nebekah enough to realize that this was one such time.

Really, he had never seen her so agitated before. They had known each other for years and Nebekah, he found, had always been a voice of reason and intelligence. When she went to any kind of extreme, it was an extreme playfulness, nothing more. To see her so upset made her seem like an entirely different person, one, Link imagined, he would not be nearly as fond of, if he had met her first. This was such a delicate situation. Unfortunately, Sapphia didn’t appear to take it as such.

“Sit down before you give yourself a stroke,” Sapphia demanded after a few minutes of watching Nebekah.

“Can’t,” Nebekah hissed.

“Please, Nebekah. Eat something.”

“No,” Nebekah replied.

“I understand you’re upset. Really. I do. But pacing like a caged animal is only going to make it worse. Have a seat. What do you want?” She gestured to the array of dried fruits and nuts.

“Revenge,” Nebekah answered hotly.

Sapphia scowled. “Well, I don’t think that’s on the menu. Would you at least answer in more than one word sentences?”

“Shut up.”

“Well,” Sapphia shrugged. “That’s two words. Twice as much. It’s a start, I suppose.”

“Really, Nebekah,” Link said quietly, wanting to head off any kind of conflict, “sit down. What are you going to do?”

Nebekah stopped pacing, brushing her long dreadlocks back, over her shoulder. “The first thing I’m going to do,” she said quietly, “is assume command of the rebel forces.”

“Nebekah!” Link cried.

“Let her talk, Link,” Sapphia said. “You’re going to assume command?” she prompted Nebekah.

“Yes,” Nebekah said, nodding.

“And then what are you going to do?”

“I’m going to lead them against Petaleen,” Nebekah replied.

“A civil war?” Link droned. “Really, are you serious? Is that something you want to encourage?”

“It’s already begun,” Nebekah told him. “And, as Miral’s friend and Beta, it is my responsibility to avenge her death. I will finish what Deidre has started. Or die trying.”

“By Din, Nebekah. You can’t really mean that.”

“I do.”

Link stood up, walking over to her. “Do you really?”

“Yes.”

“And what about all your talk of peace?” he asked. “All the times you’ve boasted about how peaceful the Jaguar are? Would you really throw all of that away in favor of petty revenge?”

“There is nothing petty about this.”

“It’s pointless,” Link insisted.

“Miral was my Jaguar sister and my friend.”

“And by doing this, you’re going against everything she has ever worked toward, don’t you see that? Miral worked so hard to establish a peace. And now, you’d be encouraging a war right in the middle of the Pride.”

“Which is probably what they want you to do,” Sapphia said.

Both Link and Nebekah turned to look at her. “What?” Link sputtered.

Sapphia shrugged, still lying on a pillow. “It seems obvious to me,” she told them serenely.

“What’s obvious?”

“This is clearly the work of Twinrova. They’re trying to get rid of you, the same way they did with the Saber Tooth.”

“Do you think Petaleen is working for them?”

“Well,” she muttered, “it’s possible. They must be employing agents. There’s no way they can possibly do everything for themselves.”

“That’s true,” Link admitted. “A resurrection probably took a lot out of them. They might be weak.”

“It would explain why they want the Topaz,” Sapphia said. “I mean, other than the obvious reason of using it to kill, it’s probably going to give them a lot of power. Deidre was right. Power is addictive.”

“Do you think Petaleen could be one of them?” Link wondered.

“That’s possible too. I don’t know how much strength they have. But when they were alive, they could certainly change their shapes at will.”

“I remember,” Link said with a shudder.

“The point,” Sapphia continued, rising to her feet and walking over to the others, “is that it’s very likely they could be the cause of everything.”

“Which means you shouldn’t fly off the handle,” Link said, turning to look at Nebekah.

“I don’t care,” Nebekah said softly.

“Nebekah…”

“Don’t Nebekah me,” she hissed.

“Sorry, I just –”

“My best friend is dead,” Nebekah snapped. “And she died honorlessly, while I was too far away to prevent it. I’m partly responsible for what happened to her.”

“You know that’s not true!” Link cried.

“True or not, it’s my responsibility to avenge her death.” Nebekah cleared her throat. “I’m going to assume command of this rebellion. And we’re going to take down Petaleen.”

“That’s your final decision?”

“Yes,” Nebekah said. “It is. And you would do well to help me in bringing her down. It’s the only way we’ll be able to get her Shard.”

“I’ll do what I can to end this fight,” Link said enigmatically. In truth, he was here to help, but he wouldn’t fight. Not if he could help it. There had to be a better way of ending this.

“So will I,” Sapphia promised.

“Good,” Nebekah said, nodding vaguely.

Sapphia folded her arms across her chest, looking smug. “As long as you eat something first.”

“Shut up.”

She held up her hands defensively. “All right, all right.” She turned, giving Link a significant look. Although he barely knew Sapphia, he could tell exactly what it meant. It meant they had a lot to talk about, but it couldn’t be done in front of Nebekah. Link sighed softly. He was glad to have an ally in this, but he rather wished it could be one who wasn’t quite so volatile among the Jaguar. After all, he had seen the way Deidre and her followers looked at the Kodiak. He wondered if she would be able to do much good. For that matter, he wondered if he would be able to do any either.



Anything Nebekah had ever told Mika about Jaguar hospitality, she immediately disregarded. She supposed it was unfair to judge a Pride that was caught in the clutches of a civil war, but Mika was far too resentful to take it into consideration. In truth, she had no idea why she and Tyro had been so rudely seized. Not that she blamed them for taking Tyro. He was a man after all, and an obnoxious one at that. Still, it seemed like awfully harsh treatment for the daughter of an Alpha, particularly the daughter of an Alpha of a Pride that had nothing to do with the Jaguar one way or the other. Yet here she was, bound and being dragged through the halls of the Jaguar fortress. She had given up on trying to reason with her captors. Clearly, there was something going on beyond anyone’s control.

Why had they been expecting her? That part made no sense at all, unless news of her quest had spread from the Orca and Saber Tooth Prides already. She doubted much had been said by the Saber Tooth. They had only recently left the stronghold and there was no possible way a Saber Tooth could have beaten them here. As for the Orca, she was sure her mother wanted to keep the quest as quiet as possible, in order to better protect Mika and her friends. Mika wracked her mind, trying to determine the source of the Jaguar’s information and she continued to return to the same, inevitable conclusion. The Twinrova sisters had something to do with it.

They arrived in what had to be the Alpha’s greeting chamber fairly quickly. It felt more like a war counsel though. The dais on which the throne rested as littered with various maps and papers of the territory. A flock of Gerudo were around the dais, leaning over to examine the map while a single warrior moved colored pawns across the paper landscape. The group looked up in unison as Mika and Tyro were dragged in, and one central figure stood up. She wore an amber stone around her neck that looked suspiciously like the two Shards the group had managed to collect so far. Without a doubt, this was the Alpha, legitimate or not. And it was clear to Mika right away that she was a Thin Blood. Her skin was milky pale and her hair was auburn, the same color as Tyro’s.

“We caught them near the rebel’s camp,” the head scout reported, pushing Mika forward into the middle of the room.

“She’s an Orca,” the Alpha said, stepping around the maps and taking note of the blue wraps of Mika’s hair.

“Yes, Alpha Petaleen,” the scout replied. With another shove, she sent Mika forward again. “Tell her who you are.”

Mika turned over her shoulder to give the scout a rude look. As she did, she happened to catch sight of Tyro’s face. He was staring up at Petaleen with wide, frightened eyes. She wasn’t entirely sure what this meant. Was Petaleen his mother or not? She certainly looked the part. Mika turned back to face Petaleen, squaring her shoulders. “I am Mika,” she said proudly, “Daughter of Medea and I –”

“I’ve heard enough,” Petaleen cut her off.

“Really,” Mika planted her hands on her hips, “I think I resent this treatment. What’s the meaning of all of this?”

“We were warned that you were coming,” Petaleen told her calmly.

“Warned?”

“You’ve been sent by Nebekah.”

Blinking, Mika furrowed her brow. “I am on good terms with Nebekah,” she admitted, “but she certainly did not send me.”

“Then you’ve come of your own volition, on her behalf,” Petaleen countered casually.

“I don’t understand.”

“There’s no need for obfuscation, no need for deception. I know very well why you’ve come here.”

“Then perhaps,” Mika said, folding her arms across her chest, “You can enlighten me.”

“I received a warning from your mother that –”

“My mother?” Mika cut her off.

Petaleen sighed in annoyance. “Arrived this morning. She warned us that you were here to assassinate me.”

“What?!”

“And now comes the convincing claim of innocence,” Petaleen said to her companions who all sniggered politely.

“I don’t understand,” Mika said.

“Of course not. These plans are so much wiser before someone attempts to carry them out.”

“What? What plan?”

“The plan to restore your honor, no doubt. Join the Jaguar perhaps. You’re a Thin Blood, are you not?”

“As are you.”

“True enough.”

“That’s neither here nor there,” Mika continued. “What do you mean by plan? I’m not an assassin!”

“You have come here after failing your initiation, have you not?” Petaleen asked her.

Mika bristled. True, she had not passed her initiation, but she would hardly say she failed either. There were no words for what had happened to her because there was simply no precedent. “I wouldn’t –”

“Enough, we’ve already been informed. You’ve come here on behalf of Nebekah to kill me and earn honor in her eyes.”

“While the idea has merit,” Mika said dryly, “It was not my own. I did not wish to have anything to do with you.”

“I’m sure,” Petaleen drawled. She sounded exactly like Tyro, with his bored, flippant attitude. Mika spared another glance at Tyro. He seemed completely frozen, his jaw hanging open just slightly, all traces of his placid, bored exterior gone in favor of some kind of paralysis of terror. Petaleen followed Mika’s gaze, seeming to notice the boy for the first time. “I admit,” she said, “I did not expect a man to be part of your plan. What did you intend to do? Offer him up to me as a gift and have him do the deed? Slip poison into my cup? Plant a scorpion in my throne?” She shook her head. “Kodiak methods.”

“He’s not a part of any of this,” Mika said. “I’ve never seen him before in my life.”

“She lies, Alpha,” a scout volunteered.

Petaleen raised an eyebrow. “Oh?”

“When we caught her, she was arguing with him with a fish wife,” the scout said haughtily.

“About what?” Petaleen wondered.

“We couldn’t tell. But it sounded as though they had been at it for quite some time.”

“Well,” Petaleen said, turning around and strolling back to her dais. “I can’t take any chances.”

“What are your orders?” a Delta warrior asked.

Petaleen sat down in her stolen throne, running her hands down the armrests. She leaned back and looked up at Mika, meeting her eye to eye, face to face for an excruciating long moment. “I must protect myself, mustn’t I?” she muttered, staring up at Mika.

“We all must,” Mika agreed. “But I pose no threat to you. I wish nothing more than to leave you behind.”

“I’ve already been given information to the contrary. There’s no more need to discuss. If I must protect myself, then my path is clear.” She curled her fingers under the armrests. “For the crime of conspiracy, I sentence this Orca and her slave to be executed at sunset tonight.”

“No!” Mika shouted.

“Throw them in the dungeon until then,” Petaleen told her warriors. “See that they are fed and comforted in their final hours.”

“Yes, Alpha,” one of them said, moving forward to Mika and Tyro with a sinister smile.

“At sunset,” Petaleen continued, “They will be pressed in the quarry.”

Mika felt the hands upon her and she could do nothing to stop them. She was a fine warrior, but she was outnumbered. She turned to Tyro. “Say something,” she hissed at him. But Tyro stood there, completely numb, allowing the warriors to seize him as well. “Say something!” she shouted in an echoing voice. But again, Tyro was silent, walking of his own free will as he was led from the chamber. Mika could not be so easily led.

She pulled her arms, trying to keep from being dragged out, gnashing her teeth. The guards seemed amused more than anything else. Most of them were seasoned, elder warriors who had probably dealt with flies with greater strength than the fresh and green Mika. She didn’t care. It was completely unfair. Why should she be sentenced to death? She knew all too well that her mother could not possibly have warned Petaleen of something as ridiculous as an assassination plot on behalf of Nebekah. “Twinrova!” Mika shouted, but no one seemed to pay her much attention. “It has to be the Twinrova sisters!” But no one cared.



Nebekah delivered a stirring, powerful speech to the Jaguar when she assumed command. All of her sisters pumped their fists into the air, calling out for vengeance as she spoke of justice and right. But they weren’t the same thing. This much, Link was sure of. Link lingered near the back of the pack, unable to conjure up the enthusiasm the others all shared. He watched the stranger Nebekah as she riled up her sisters, riling herself up in the process, her face becoming pink and bright and unlike the girl Link knew.

With his arms folded across his chest, he thought of how odd it was that this should be the first time he had ever seen such passion in an otherwise calm and rational woman. Then again, he supposed that she was expressing the exact same outrage he had first felt, waking up after seven years to learn that the world had gone mad without him around to stop it. Everything had worked out fine for him, in the end, but Nebekah wouldn’t have the same luck. Miral was gone. She couldn’t reawaken as a Sage and smile and tell Nebekah how much she missed her. Softly, the demons of Link’s memory sniggered.

Once the speech giving was at an end, the group disassembled to eat and plot their glorious revenge. Link stood still as the crowd thinned around him. Fortunately, no one gave him much trouble. After so many visits to the Jaguar territory, they knew who he was and knew he wouldn’t be a threat. The same could not be said for Sapphia. When the crowd was thin enough for them to lock eyes, she was on the other side of the camp. She made her way to him slowly, continually being slammed in the shoulder by angry Jaguar who could not quite accept the presence of a Kodiak in their midst.

Sapphia was buffeted about, taking everything in stride. Link would never admit it aloud, but she reminded him very much of Nebekah’s usual calm demeanor. Was that why they couldn’t get along? They were so alike? Then again, since his run in with Ari at the Saber Tooth compound, he had noticed a quiet abstinence brewing between the two of them.

When she, at last, made it to his side, they were both guarded, doing nothing more than nodding and slowly moving, as one, to the remotest possible corner of the tight little camp. For a long while, they were silent, standing by the briar barricade and watching as the Jaguar passed by. “Well,” Link finally said.

“Well,” Sapphia repeated.

“We seem to have a bit of a problem here.”

“Several, I’d say.”

Link nodded. “I’m not sure what to do about it.”

“I suppose we need to take it one step at a time.”

“What are we dealing with?”

Sapphia ticked off her fingers, looking to some point over Link’s shoulder. “Well, first of all, we need the Shard.”

“Yes.”

“Secondly,” she continued, “Mika and Tyro have been missing for several hours now.”

“True.”

“Thirdly, somehow, there’s a raging civil war devouring the Jaguar and given their track record for peace, I’d say Twinrova is behind it.”

“Yeah,” Link mumbled distantly. “And it’s slowly turning Nebekah into a raging maniac.”

“You can’t blame her,” she said softly.

“Oh no?”

“Of course not. This war is not only tearing apart her Pride, but it’s depriving her of her sisters. People are dying here, people she knows and cares about. That would be enough to drive anyone –”

“Wait,” Link cut her off.

“What?”

He scanned the terrain around the camp. The area was relatively smooth, with only a few rock formations off in the distance. Silver wisps rose up from the land, the same ones Link had seen last night, dancing like Kae’lee. “Have you seen any dead bodies?” he asked.

“No,” Sapphia said, wrinkling up her nose. “Why?”

“How about any graves?”

“No, there wouldn’t be any. The Gerudo practice cremation, you know that, Link.”

“Have you seen any funeral pyres?”

For a moment, Sapphia was silent. She turned, performing the same once over of the Valley as Link. He already knew the answer. Other than the rocks and the silver smoke, there was nothing there to indicate any sort of funeral. “No,” she finally admitted. “I haven’t.”

“A war without deaths? That seems highly unlikely.”

“There have been deaths,” Sapphia said. “Remember what Deidre told us? Petaleen’s killed more than just Miral. She’s been killing her own Jaguar sisters. Anyone who –”

“Threatens her place as the new Alpha,” Link finished. “So the question is, what gives?”

“What? You think this is some sort of elaborate hoax?”

“No, but there’s definitely something going on that’s not really on the up and up. We need to find out what it is.”

“Well,” Sapphia said, gesturing over his shoulder. “There’s your chance. Deidre’s coming this way.”

Link turned around and saw Deidre approaching, her long hair swaying back and forth behind her back. “Deidre,” he called out to her in greeting.

“Link, we need to talk,” she said.

“I certainly agree.”

“I want your Kodiak friend under constant surveillance.”

Sapphia made an indignant squawk. “Really,” Link said, “that’s not necessary. She’s on our side.”

“I don’t know whose side she’s on,” Deidre replied angrily.

“She came here with Nebekah.”

“That doesn’t matter,” Deidre said with a wave of her hand. “I don’t want her alone in this compound and I don’t want her leaving.”

“But –”

Sapphia cut him off. “It’s all right, Link.” She glanced coldly at Deidre. “They have every reason not to trust me.”

“Stand up for yourself, Sapphia,” Link urged her.

“It’s fine. There are more important things to discuss.” She gave him a pointed look. “Like this war.”

Link turned back to Deidre. “I have a question.”

Deidre folded her arms across her chest. “What is it?” she asked.

“What are the losses so far?”

“It’s hard to keep track,” Deidre told him. “I know I’ve lost about seventeen warriors to Petaleen’s forces. I can’t say how many we’ve managed to kill. It’s probably comparable.”

“Mmmhmmm,” Sapphia mumbled.

“Then,” Link said slowly, “where are the funeral pyres?”

“There are none,” Deidre said.

“Where are the bodies?”

“Gone,” Deidre answered.

“Gone?” he repeated.

“Gone?!” Sapphia cried indignantly.

Deidre nodded. “Taken by the other side. One final dishonor.”

“That’s terrible,” Sapphia muttered.

“Well, of course it is,” Deidre said indignantly. “If you’ll excuse me, I have important business to attend to.” With a wave of her hair, she turned around and marched away haughtily.

“I really don’t like her,” Link said.

“I really don’t like this,” Sapphia added. “Taking bodies means that Petaleen is crossing several lines.”

“You’re right,” Link admitted. “Which means we need to figure out why she’s doing it. I can’t believe it’s just for power or spite. There’s something more to this than meets the eye.”

“What do you suggest we do about it?”

He ran a hand through his cornsilk hair. “I’m going to go to the Jaguar compound,” he said finally.

“Are you crazy?”

“They’ll know me there. And if I go alone, they won’t be able to assume what side I’m on right away. I can approach by way of the village, Kakariko.”

“Why the village?”

“Maybe that’s where Tyro and Mika went. It has been a long time. It wouldn’t hurt to check along the way. Plus if I approach from there, they won’t know that I’ve been here.”

“Okay,” Sapphia said with a nod.

“Maybe I can talk some sense into Petaleen. I have to try.”

“What about me?” Sapphia asked.

“It’s dangerous for you to show your face among the Jaguar,” he said. “And if you leave, Deidre and the others will immediately suspect treachery.”

“Probably.”

“You should stay here,” he decided. “Keep a close eye on Nebekah. See if you can get her to calm down.”

“I don’t know,” Sapphia muttered. “When someone’s bent on revenge…”

“It’s hard to talk them down, I know. But try.”

“All right,” she said with a nod. “But don’t be away too long. You might be my only advocate.”

“Don’t tell anyone I’ve gone at all, if you can help it.”

“Okay.” She held out her hand. Link grasped her wrist and gave her a quick shake. “Be careful, Link,” she warned. “Don’t get yourself killed.”

“That’s not in my plans,” he told her with a wry smile. And with that, he stepped back and turned around, disappearing as he hopped over the briar barrier and slipped away in the direction of the village. Sapphia watched him go, wringing her hands nervously.



The first thing Mika did once she and Tyro were flung into the dungeon cell was slap him across the face. After that, the second thing she did was to spit in his eye. The third thing she did was finally ask, “What’s the matter with you?”

Tyro stared at her blankly, all his arrogance and droll humor drained from his face. “What?” he mumbled in confusion.

“Why didn’t you say anything?”

“Say anything,” he repeated numbly, walking across the cell to the far wall. “Say what?”

She stared at him in disbelief. “Was that her?”

“Who?”

“Petaleen? Was that your mother?”

He ran a hand along the rough, gray stone wall. They had been dragged underground, an interesting notion that Mika had never before encountered. There, they were brought to a long cellblock of small, square stalls. A long, barred fence ran along the open wall of each stall, locking them inside like caged animals in a menagerie. There were guards strolling up and down the corridor on the other side of the bars, but most of them looked like trainees. Mika was certain she could easily have taken them all out, but she wasn’t alone. Tyro, in his zombie-like trance, had become a sudden liability to her, leaving her with no choice but to allow girls much weaker and much younger than herself to cage her like a wild cat.

“Tyro,” she barked when he didn’t answer. “Tyro, answer me.”

“What?”

“Was that your mother?”

“I…”

“Yes?” she snapped impatiently.

“I think it was,” he said.

“You think?”

“It looked like her. Like that painting my father kept over the fireplace. Almost exactly the same, not even older really. Just…”

“Just what?”

“Crueler,” he said softly.

“Why didn’t you say anything?” she demanded again.

“What would I say?”

“That you were her son for one thing,” she said dryly. “That you had a lifetime of questions you had been waiting to ask her. Why didn’t you ask any, Tyro? What were you waiting for?”

“I just…I don’t understand this.”

“What?”

“Any of this,” he said, gesturing vaguely.

“Tyro, you’re not making sense.”

“None of this is,” he said with a nod.

“What don’t you understand?”

He licked his lips, leaning against the wall. “Everything I read about my mother, everything dad ever told me about her, it was all so…nice.”

“Nice?”

“Yes. She was nice. Sweet. Kind hearted. Quiet.”

“And that woman we just met was the opposite of it all.”

“Yes.”

Mika shrugged. “Well, it’s a war. What can you expect?”

“I’m not sure,” he said. “But that wasn’t it.”

“You still should have said something. She might have spared us if she knew you were her son.”

He shook his head. “I couldn’t. There was just something…something telling me not to do it.”

“Why?”

“I don’t understand this…this transformation,” he said earnestly. “And I just sensed that…that saying I was her child would…I don’t know…make things worse, somehow.”

“It’s possible,” Mika admitted.

“What if you were right?” Tyro whispered.

“About what?”

“About my mother. What if she really did run away? What if she really did abandon me and my father?”

“Then,” Mika said slowly, “I suppose reminding her of that life she left behind might upset her.”

“Why would she do it? I don’t understand. She had a good life. My father was a good man. The shop was doing well. We wanted for nothing.”

“I don’t know. Maybe not every woman in Hyrule is content to be nothing more than a shopkeeper’s wife and a mother.”

“Running away seems a bit extreme.”

“Maybe it’s the only thing she could think of. There are probably countless reasons, at least in her mind, as to why she did what she did.” She paused. “You still should have said something.”

“Are you crazy? You said it yourself, it might have upset her. It could have made things worse.”

“Worse?” Mika repeated. “How could they possibly be worse? We’re about to be pressed in a quarry.”

“What does that mean?”

“That means they tie you to a rock and they start laying stones on top of you until your ribcage cracks and you’re crushed under the weight.”

“Oh…”

She blinked. “Oh?”

“Yeah.”

“Is that all you’re going to say?”

“What should I say?”

And Mika felt an explosion inside of her chest. “We’re about to be killed in a horrific and painful way and all you can manage to do is say ‘oh?’”

“What do you want from me?” he snapped.

“Show some signs of life!”

“Shall I eat through the bars?” Tyro droned.

“Well,” she exploded, “at least then you’d be trying to accomplish something. You wouldn’t be quite so useless.”

“Useless? I don’t see you coming up with anything helpful. Screaming it’s Twinrova certainly didn’t work!”

“At least I tried!”

“And that made all the difference.”

In two steps, Mika bounded over to him. “Well, you’d still be useless chewing through the bars, but at least it would shut you up!”

“I thought you were complaining that I didn’t say anything!”

“Useless either way!” She snarled at him. “You’re an idiot.”

Tyro’s eyebrows shot up. “An idiot?” he repeated.

“Yes,” she said firmly. “An idiot.”

“Well, if I’m an idiot,” he told her, “then you are a brute.”

“A brute?”

“Yes,” he replied in a smug tone of voice. “Brute.”

“Coward.”

“Toady.”

“Scoundrel.”

“Bully!”

“Scamp!”

“Tramp!”

Mika slammed her fists against the wall, planting them on either side of Tyro’s head. She leaned forward, glaring at him venomously. “Man,” she whispered with cold fury.

He stared at her, shaking with rage. “Can I kiss you?”

“I wish you would!”

And the next thing they knew, the two of them were engaged in a passionate kiss. Mika pressed herself up against Tyro’s chest, feeling his frantic heartbeat against hers. Her fingers slid through his hair, rolling down his strong back. He wrapped his arms around her waist, holding her tightly, as if he feared she would run away or vanish like smoke. She leaned in on the kiss and he spun her around, pinning her up against the side of the stall, the blue threads wrapping her hair snapping against his cheek and stinging him.

Abruptly, he pulled out of the kiss, staring at her. She was wide eyed, panting to catch her breath and staring right back at him. “Are you as turned on as I am?” he asked frantically.

“More,” she said. And hardly being a gentleman to refuse the request, Tyro kissed her again.



Nebekah sat on the floor, her legs folded under her as she leaned over to carefully review the series of charts and maps that had been arranged for her. They detailed the dreadful facts of the division of Jaguar territory. Since Petaleen and her followers had the stronghold itself, with all its supplies and weaponry, the picture before her was a dour one. The rebels were existing primarily on what they had carried on their backs during the initial flight from Petaleen’s regime. A few daring missions had been staged as an attempt to capture more supplies, but they had ended in disaster. Nebekah stared numbly at the list of the dead, their bodies apparently missing. This galled her more than the murders themselves. Petaleen had not only dishonored the Jaguar Pride in life, but also in death.

She rubbed her eyes, suddenly feeling old. “Such a waste,” she murmured softly, sitting back on her heels.

“True,” Deidre agreed. She had taken a seat on a pillow across the charts from Nebekah and was examining her carefully. “A great pity.”

“I never thought I’d live to see the Jaguar Pride turn on itself.”

“Like a snake devouring its own tail.”

“Ouroboros,” Nebekah sighed.

Deidre tilted her head to one side. “Your resolve isn’t faltering, is it?” she asked carefully.

Nebekah smiled grimly, no joy or pleasure behind it. “Miral must be avenged,” she said.

“Good,” Deidre stated with a nod of approval.

“Still…”

“I don’t like that ‘still,’” Deidre mumbled.

“Still,” Nebekah pressed on, “it all seems so…” But she couldn’t put her finger on the right word.

“Real?” Deidre supplied.

Nebekah nodded. “Real.”

“Well, I can see how that might happen,” Deidre told her, gesturing to the charts and maps before her.

“It’s much easier to talk of revenge than to actually seek it.”

“True. But it’s no less important.”

“I know, I know.”

“Miral died humiliated.”

“What do you mean?” Nebekah asked cautiously.

“There was no honor in it.”

“I know that.”

“You don’t understand,” Deidre insisted. “It wasn’t in battle or on the fire stakes or even by blade.”

“What was it?” Nebekah wondered darkly.

“Poison.”

“No…”

Deidre nodded. “It’s true.”

“Poison?”

“Arsenic or lye, I think. Slipped into a cup over several days. It was awhile before we noticed something wrong with Miral, and by then, it was too late to do anything.” She paused a moment. “And then, to add insult to injury, Petaleen took a trophy.”

“Trophy?”

“She drained all the blood from the body and took it.”

“What kind of Gerudo would do something like that?” Nebekah hissed, pounding her fist into her palm.

“Petaleen,” Deidre replied.

“How could she? This Pride has been a family to her. We took her in. We didn’t have to.”

“I know. It was ungrateful.”

“And she didn’t even have the decency to look Miral in the eye when she killed her!”

“Disgusting.”

“That’s not the Jaguar way!”

“I know,” Deidre said. “It’s the Kodiak.”

Nebekah shook her head. “And I can’t help but think that now I’m only perpetuating the cycle.”

“What do you mean?”

She shrugged. “Here I am, about to wage a war on Petaleen, hoping that she’ll die so I can take her place.”

“It’s not like that,” Deidre insisted.

“Oh no?”

“You are the rightful Alpha,” she said. “You’re not assassinating a superior to move up in rank. You’re removing a usurper to claim what’s rightfully yours. It’s not the same thing.”

“I wish I could feel that way.”

“So all that talk you gave, all those speeches and promises, were they nothing more than lies?”

“Of course not!” Nebekah cried.

“Well?”

“Well what?”

“Why are you having second thoughts now?”

“I’m not having second thoughts,” Nebekah told her. “I’m just…reflecting on the situation. I was angry before. I’ve calmed down now. I’ve had my first chance to think about it.”

Deidre leaned back on her palms. “Miral suffered something awful, you know,” she said.

Nebekah bit her lower lip. “She did?”

“Oh yes,” Deidre replied with a nod. “Whatever that poison was that Petaleen slipped to her, it was terrible.”

“Coward.”

“It started with a cough. Miral couldn’t control it. It wracked her body like a virus, causing her to go into spasm.”

“Oh Din…” Nebekah whispered.

“And soon, she began to cough up blood. It splattered everywhere. Especially around her lips. She looked like one of those silly village courtesans with their face paint.”

“No…”

“It got to the point where Miral hardly had the strength to stand. She had to be guided by the arms. And when she wanted to address the Pride, two Deltas had to hold her up to keep her from crumpling like a rag doll.”

Nebekah could feel her throat tighten, as she thought of her proud, powerful sister, a woman of immense strength and fortitude. The image of Miral needing help to stand or walk pained her, sending intense regret for her second thoughts on the matter of revenge. Heat rose behind her eyes, but she could not cry. She would not give Petaleen the satisfaction of making her weak as well. No, she would live as Miral would have wanted her to live. Powerful. Determined.

The flap to the tent waved as Sapphia stepped in, bent over low. Behind her, a small Delta warrior followed, gripping a curved blade tightly and keeping it pointed to Sapphia’s back. Sapphia, for her own part, barely spared her escort a glance. Instead, she turned to face Nebekah. “How are you feeling?” she asked.

“I’m fine,” Nebekah said numbly.

“Oh, that’s believable,” Sapphia droned.

“Shut up, Kodiak,” Deidre sneered.

Sapphia ignored the barb. “Nebekah,” she said firmly, “have you come to your senses yet?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Deidre snapped.

Again, Sapphia ignored her. “You’re a woman of peace, Nebekah. Please tell me that hasn’t changed.”

“My sister is dead,” Nebekah told her sharply. “Murdered by one of her own people. That changes things.”

“Only if you let it,” Sapphia insisted. “Are you really going to allow yourself to lead your people down this path?”

“And what path is that?”

“A path of destruction,” she said. “A path of war.”

“I must do what I must do,” Nebekah mumbled.

“Do you really believe that?”

“Yes!”

“Stop causing trouble, Kodiak,” Deidre hissed.

She reached out, putting a hand on Nebekah’s shoulder. “Nebekah…” she started.

Violently, Nebekah shrugged the hand away. “This is a personal matter,” she snapped.

“I know it’s personal,” Sapphia continued. “And you’re in danger of losing your personal sense of self.”

“That is my decision to make then, isn’t it?”

“I guess so. But I think you’re making the wrong choice.”

“She doesn’t care what you think,” Deidre cut in.

Sapphia shrugged absently. “You just want her to follow your lead.”

“Miral must be avenged,” she barked.

“This isn’t your mother, Nebekah!”

Nebekah looked at her, poison in her gaze. “How dare you…” she hissed violently.

“Remember that,” Sapphia continued. “This isn’t the same thing.”

“Leave my mother out of this. It’s not about her. It’s about stopping an assassin.”

“And revenge. There is more to this than a simple assassination,” Sapphia said with a small sigh. “I wish you’d keep that in mind, Nebekah.”

A part of Nebekah wanted to heed Sapphia’s warning. After all, she knew where she had come from and what she and the others had faced so far. But every time that small bit of her spoke up, a larger, angrier part reminded her of her duty to her fallen friend. Again, the image of Miral, weak and debilitated flashed across her imagination, echoing Deidre’s words. Perhaps she would lose herself, but she didn’t care any more. She couldn’t afford to care. There were things in the world more important than her childish belief in peace. She understood that now. And now, it was time to let childish things go. What had to be done, she would do.



Link had never felt so nervous walking through the halls of the Jaguar stronghold. The first surprise had appeared when he arrived at the front entrance, to find it flanked by guards with swords drawn. He was used to the occasional honor guard, usually leaning in boredom against the side of the gate, but this was different. They regarded him with skepticism, doubtlessly recalling the fact that he was a friend of Nebekah. Of course, the odds were that they had no idea where Nebekah stood on the matter. She was still missing, apparently presumed dead. Link’s connection with her was not enough for them to out and out open hostilities.

He was escorted into the gates and paraded across the grounds. As they went, he swept his gaze from side to side, hoping to see some small, familiar comfort. The sweltering blaze of the afternoon sun beat down on Link’s shoulders, causing beads of sweat to form across his broad. Adding to the stress of the whole civil war, Link had been upset to find that Tyro and Mika were not in the village. No one had seen them and it was a festival day, celebrating the dedication of a new, gold statue to Din, so everyone was out and about, dancing and laughing, throwing papers streamers and rose petals into the air with wild abandon. But there was no sign of Mika or Tyro. Well, when it rained, it poured, he supposed.

Through the stone and wood hallways of the stronghold, Link and his escorts marched. Nothing was really different, but the tint of war made everything much scarier to Link. The somber oak statues of Din, normally warm and friendly, seemed sinister and seductive, as if the very light around them had changed somehow, though of course Link knew that wasn’t true. Still, he longed desperately for his sword, taken at the front gate. It was just his imagination. He had simply seen too much. Now every shadow was cruel. Again, the demons of his past laughed at him, but he shut them up good and proper. There were more important matters to think about now.

The doors to the Alpha’s receiving chamber were open. Link had been in the room many times before, but it had always been Miral who greeted him, smiling with arms wide open, winking to Nebekah at her side. A pale pink carpet covered the path from the entrance to a dais, on which an elaborate throne, carved of ivory, waited. As Link began to walk his path, he gazed back and forth at the Delta warriors lining either side of the walkway, ready to jump and slaughter him at the slightest indication of trouble. Steeling his resolve, Link turned his gaze forward.

Standing at the very edge of the platform was an older woman who Link immediately took to be Petaleen. She was not a woman to be trifled with, he could tell that right away. Yet, as he looked at her, he sensed something familiar. He couldn’t quite place it, but something about her reminded him of…what was it? He just couldn’t say for sure. There was just something about the curve of her chin, the color of her hair, that made him feel unnaturally comfortable.

“Alpha,” the escort called from the doorway, “Link, honorary Delta of the Dragon Pride.”

Link crossed his wrists before his chest as he had seen so many times in the past. “Alpha,” he said with a respectful bow.

“The Hero of Time,” Petaleen said, stepping down from her dais. “I’ve seen you before.”

“Yes, I’ve always counted the Jaguar Pride as my friends,” Link told her carefully.

“I wish you could have come to us in better times,” Petaleen replied. There was a certain curtness to her voice that gave Link the creeps. For some reason, he sensed that she did not want to speaking to him at all, but he couldn’t fathom why.

“The times are the reason that I’ve come,” he said.

“What do you mean?”

“This civil war of yours,” Link explained cautiously. “It’s the reason why I’m here now.” There was no sense in getting into the details of the Twinrova sisters and the Gerudo Topaz. That would have to wait for more peaceful times. For now, it was best to keep things as simple as possible.

“Who do you come representing?” she asked piercingly.

“He came from the village,” Link’s escort called.

“The village?”

Link decided to run with it. “Yes. Naturally, a civil war among the Jaguar will effect everyone in the surrounding area. Kakariko included.”

“And you come with concern for your fellow Hylians?”

“I come with my concern for my friends,” he answered. “Both the Hylians and the Jaguar Pride.”

“Your concern is touching,” Petaleen said without an ounce of sincerity in her voice.

“Have I done something wrong?” Link wondered politely.

“Your gender disgusts me,” Petaleen replied.

Inwardly, Link sighed. So Petaleen was one of those Gerudo. No wonder she was a prime suspect in a coup. After all, the Jaguar got along with men all too well under Miral’s leadership. Link decided the best course of action was not to engage her on the gender front. It was best to keep to the subject and get out as quickly as possible, all the time hoping that she somehow forgot about the fact that he happened to be male. “I come representing both the men and the women of Kakariko,” he said. “We want information. We want to know what this war is about.”

“This war,” Petaleen said sharply, “is a matter of Gerudo honor. You would not understand.”

“Please,” Link said, “give me some information to take back to the village. Tell me why you’ve started this war.”

Petaleen stared at him, her blue eyes searing into his face. “I did not start any war,” she insisted.

He had not been expecting this. “My mistake,” he mumbled quickly. “What I mean to say is –”

“Is that what the villagers think? Do they take me for a usurper?”

“It’s difficult to say, considering our lack of information.”

Petaleen rolled her eyes. “Typical. Filling in the blanks without any information.”

“Why don’t you set the record straight?”

“Our Alpha, Alpha Miral,” she paused. “An Alpha is a leader.”

“I’m aware.”

“Our Alpha was murdered,” she said darkly.

“Murdered,” Link repeated. That much he already knew from his encounter with the rebels. Somehow, he sensed that the story was about to change abruptly. “By whom?”

“By an underling named Deidre.”

“Deidre,” Link repeated. Somehow, he was not at all surprised. It made perfect sense for the leaders of each camp to blame the other.

“An honorless sow,” Petaleen spat angrily.

“There’s rarely honor in murder,” Link commented.

“There are times when murder is justified. But even if she had been given a good reason for killing Miral, her continued actions are beyond redeeming.”

“What do you mean?”

“She leads a camp of rebels against me now. They’re somewhere on our northern border. Those worthless excuses for Gerudo do worse than kill their own sisters. They steal the bodies of the dead. And deny them proper burial.”

Link suddenly blinked. “Your dead are missing?” he asked, without adding that Deidre’s were missing too.

“Yes.”

“Are you taking her dead as well?”

Petaleen looked highly offended. “Of course not!” she cried. “I would never do such a thing.”

His mind raced, trying to say what he wanted to say without actually saying it. “You know, we’ve seen no funeral pyres. They can usually be seen from the village at night.”

“So?”

“So? I assume your followers are killing hers every bit as much as she’s killing yours.”

“Of course.”

“If there are no funeral pyres, doesn’t that mean that her dead are missing too?” he asked.

This caught Petaleen off guard. Even the Deltas, stiff at attention along the walls, seemed to pause to consider his words. “It is…possible,” Petaleen admitted after a long and heavy pause.

“If your dead are missing and their dead are missing,” Link continued, “doesn’t that mean that there’s a third party in play?”

“It might. But what does that matter?”

“What does it matter? It means that someone, or something, is benefiting from your carnage.”

“Benefiting?”

“Why would someone steal dead bodies unless there was something to be gained from it?”

“There may be something to what you say,” she murmured.

“Alpha,” he said, taking a step forward. The guards around the room stiffened. Link knew a second step would not be acceptable. “Alpha, if there is someone benefiting from your war, I urge you not to continue it.”

“It was not my doing in the first place,” Petaleen told him. “Deidre is the one who started it by killing Miral. I will not extend the olive branch to her now. There will be no peace while she lives.”

“There must be something more to all of it, someone manipulating things. Please, listen to me. At the very least, you can hold off on attacks until there’s further information.”

“And where will this information come from?”

“I will be more than happy to investigate the disappearance of your dead,” Link volunteered.

“You?”

“Yes.”

“Why would you do this?”

“Because as I value the Jaguar as my friends, I have no desire to see sisters fighting against sisters.

Another heavy silence fell as Petaleen considered Link’s words. “Well,” she finally said, “you seem to speak with earnest.”

“I do, Alpha.”

“Then I will grant you a temporary ceasefire.” She held up her hand before anyone could interrupt. “Long enough for you to deliver a message to the rebels up north.”

“What is that message?” Link asked eagerly.

“The message is this: Surrender and live, or stand against me and die. I am the Alpha now and I will not tolerate murderers and their followers.”

Link’s heart sank. Somehow, he had allowed himself to hope for better. Still, a ceasefire, however temporary, was certainly a start. Unfortunately, the web was becoming even more tangled than before. Deidre blamed Petaleen for Miral’s death. Petaleen blamed Deidre. Someone or something was sitting back and letting this war take place, slipping away with bodies for an unknown purpose. Link sensed that whoever that entity was, and he had several guesses as to who, was the source of the conflict. And Miral’s true murderer.



A long time ago, following the death of her mother, Nebekah had developed a certain nervous habit. She was careful about it, keeping it to herself as much as possible. The fact was that in all that time, no one had ever noticed it, except for Link. But Link wasn’t here now, so Nebekah felt free to indulge. As she paced the length of the tent, she lavished the opportunity to chew on the heel of her palm. There was absolutely no explanation for where this particular nervous tick had come from, but Nebekah had been doing it for years now, mostly in secret.

She wasn’t alone, admittedly. Sapphia had made herself quite at home, sitting in a corner of the tent and watching her like a hawk. At first, Nebekah had merely assumed that Sapphia’s continued presence was simply a matter of Sapphia trying to avoid Deidre, who was busy rallying the troops. But as time wore on and Sapphia continued her incessant babble about Nebekah’s peaceful nature, Nebekah became convinced that Sapphia was keeping an eye on her. And she didn’t like that, not one bit.

“Have you ever tried meditation?” Sapphia continued her current line of thought. “Just lying there and opening your mind up to the universe?”

“No,” Nebekah huffed, turning around and ramming the heel of her palm into her teeth again.

“Hmmmm. Some people find it very relaxing. I never had the patience for it though.”

Nebekah wasn’t surprised; however, she didn’t say anything. Instead, she continued to pace. Deidre’s description of Miral’s final days was still ringing in her ears, giving her a terrible headache. Doubtlessly, it was entirely psychosomatic, but knowing that didn’t help much. The guilt was just overwhelming. She should have been there. She should never have allowed Link to lead her on this foolish quest to reassemble the Gerudo Topaz. She should have stayed at home.

“You could have been killed too,” Sapphia said quietly.

“What?” Nebekah asked, turning around to look at her.

“If you had stayed to defend Miral. You could have been killed too.”

“How did you know what I was thinking?”

Sapphia shrugged. “I’m very intuitive. I’ve always been able to guess at these things. I can always tell you what Tyro is thinking. Of course, he’s about as deep as a bowl of pudding.”

“What’s Tyro usually thinking?”

“He’s usually thinking about Mika’s –”

“Beta!” the flap to the tent flew open. Two young trainees came running in, their faces dusted with sand, evidence of a long trek through the Valley. The one who spoke, Nebekah recognized immediately as Sandya, one of the trainees for whom she had been responsible. She noted that Sandya had not been in attendance at her speech, assuming command and had thought her one of the traitors. She was pleased to see that she was wrong.

“Sandya,” she said, walking over to the girls.

“Thank Din you’re alive!” Sandya cried.

“What is it?” Nebekah asked, putting her hands on Sandya’s shoulders as the trainee caught her breath. “What’s wrong?”

“We were out scouting by the southern ridge,” Sandya explained quickly. “Deidre posted us there this morning.”

“Easy does it,” Nebekah told them. Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed Sapphia rise to her feet. “What’s the matter?”

“We saw something,” Sandya said hurriedly. “We were going to come back and tell Deidre, but then she told us that you were still alive and that we should report to you instead.”

“What did you see?”

“Heading across the terrain…he was going straight for the fortress, no question about it.”

“Who? Who was heading for the fortress?”

“Your friend,” Sandya blurted. “The Hylian boy with blond hair. The Hero of…Something.”

“Link?” Nebekah asked.

“Yes! Yes, that’s the one,” Sandya told her with a nod. “Link was heading to the fortress.”

Slowly, Nebekah released Sandya’s shoulders. She turned and walked away from the girl, chewing on the heel of her palm. “Link,” she repeated slowly.

“Nebekah,” Sapphia said. “Don’t overreact.”

She turned to look at the Kodiak. “What?”

“Link is just going to talk to them, that’s all. He’s not switching sides. He just wants to –”

“You knew about this?” Nebekah interrupted.

“Well…” Sapphia floundered. “Yes, but I –”

“Enough,” Nebekah cut her off. She turned to look back at the scouts. “He was heading in the direction of the fortress?”

“Yes,” Sandya said.

“Gather up the other scouts,” she instructed. “Make sure they all know what Link looks like. And then, I want you to go out and look for him. He’s bound to leave the fortress at some point. I want him brought to me immediately.”

“Yes, Beta,” Sandya said with a nod. She paused. “I mean, Alpha.”

“Beta will suffice for now,” Nebekah told her. “I haven’t avenged Miral’s death yet.”

“Yes, Beta.”

“Go, tell the other scouts. And then get some rest. You two have had a long day. You’ve earned it.”

“Thank you, Beta,” Sandya said. She turned and gave a nod to her companion and together, the two of them walked back out through the flap of the tent.

“Nebekah…” Sapphia started at once.

“Don’t,” Nebekah told her, holding up a hand to keep her from continuing. “Don’t start with me.”

“He’s your friend, Nebekah.”

“I know that.”

“So why are you having him treated as the enemy?”

“He’s been in conference with the enemy,” Nebekah said. “That makes him an accomplice.”

“That’s insane Moblin logic!” Sapphia cried. “You know better than that. Link would never betray you.”

“I can’t be sure of that.”

“But he’s your friend.”

“That doesn’t matter,” Nebekah said.

“Why? Why not?”

“This is a war,” Nebekah told her. “And in a war, I must treat him the same way I would treat anyone spotted in enemy territory.”

“As an enemy.”

“Yes.”

“Even though you know better.”

“I cannot give him the luxury of special treatment,” Nebekah explained. “He may be my friend, but I can’t treat him differently.”

“That’s not the Nebekah I know.”

“You don’t know me at all, Sapphia. We’ve only been together a short while. I’ve had a lifetime of experience you know nothing about.

“I know most of your experience has not been as a warrior,” Sapphia said. “You’re a trainer and a diplomat. You’ve never been a general. Not before now. You’re making it up as you go along.”

“I don’t have a choice,” Nebekah told her. “I will not allow my personal feelings to get involved in this matter.”

“But, aren’t your personal feelings what started it?”

Nebekah didn’t answer. She tried to fool herself into believing that she was above responding to such an absurd query, but the truth of the matter, one she could not deny, was that Sapphia had a valid point. Her friendship with Miral was the cause of this matter. She hated the fact that friendship had to be so complicated and absently began chewing on her hand again.



Tyro and Mika sat on opposite sides of the cell, about as far away from each other as they could get. Tyro rested his chin on his knees. From time to time, he would turn to her, opening his mouth to say something, but suddenly, his throat would dry up. Occasionally, he would manage to get out a squeak of some kind, but it would be silenced as the memory of her warm lips returned to him, once again rendering him completely silent. He couldn’t tell for sure, but he rather hoped that she was in the same straits. It would make him feel a bit less alone. Sometimes, he would steal a glance at her out of the corner of his eye. She seemed very pale and would be chewing on one of the wraps of her hair or else running her fingers through the crevices of the stone dungeon wall.

The wall was another matter of great distraction. In the last hour or so, it had been getting cooler. Sunset was approaching and with it, Tyro knew, his possible execution at the hand of his own mother. Vaguely, he wondered whether informing her of this fact would halt the execution, or merely serve to speed it up. She wasn’t the woman his father had told him about. That had been another lie. Another disparity between father and son that would never be rectified.

He knew he should have been afraid, but he wasn’t. Every time he thought of the immanent death facing him, somehow, his mind wandered back to Mika and how good it had felt to kiss her. He felt like a great fool now for fighting her so much. Perhaps that was a sign of attraction. He wasn’t entirely sure. He had been with girls, true, but that had been different somehow. They were pleasant distractions, but certainly nothing alluring or beautiful. Mika was another matter. She was so beautiful, so seductive, so strangely exotic yet still Hylian. Tyro had never encountered a woman quite like her before. And he might never again.

Again, he turned to her, trying to speak, but he knew well before the attempt that his throat would fail him. It was a great surprise to him, however, when Mika took the initiative. “Listen, Tyro…” she said carefully.

He swallowed. “Yes?”

“What just happened, it…”

“What?”

“It didn’t mean anything. Did it?”

Tyro stared at her, trying to come up with the nerve to answer, to fight her, to contradict her. Somehow, he had lost his spine to stand up to her. “I…don’t know,” he said meekly, wishing with every word that he could cry ‘yes!’

“It couldn’t…have meant something.”

“Why not?”

Mika shrugged. “We’re…scared. Alone. Looking for comfort, that’s all. It’s not…”

“Not what?”

“Significant,” she said.

“Significant?”

“Either of us would have taken comfort in anyone else in the cell. It just happened to be the two of us.”

“I…”

“Yes?”

He looked at her as the memory of her warmth spread across his chest. Somehow, it filled him with a new reserve of courage. “I’m not so sure about that,” he said.

“What?”

“That it meant nothing.”

She frowned, her nose wrinkling in an irresistibly appealing way. “Did you…want it to mean something?”

“Well…” His heart was pounding in his chest, his palms clammy. He was living, breathing cliché, he knew that much. He was the sort of chap that he had often insulting and berated in his roguish past. But that didn’t matter. Finally, he understood that it really was no laughing matter. Not at all. “Yes,” he said. “I guess I do want it to mean something.”

“I…” but she trailed off suddenly.

At the end of the corridor, the two of them suddenly heard footsteps approaching. Tyro’s heart sank. No! Of all the times for death to come staring them in the face, why did it have to be this particular moment. This could have been the most important moment in his life. Tyro felt his eyes water up, not because of death so much as the missed opportunity. The missed opportunity to be something more to Mika than just a source of unwanted, extreme comfort. As he watched her, she rose to her feet, squaring her shoulders and facing the gate of the cell. She was unafraid to face death. And upon realizing this, every ounce of disdain he had ever felt for her turned to admiration and desire. Suddenly, even the most unpleasant parts of her, the hints of her Gerudo upbringing, made Tyro crave her all the more.

He rose, turning to face the bars as she did and hoping he could be half as brave. Although he expected to see the guards approaching at any minutes, their sharp blades ready to severe his pretty head, he was surprised to find himself facing an elderly woman wearing blue robes. Her face was full and round, her cheeks flushed a delicate, rosy pink. She was not young, not in the slightest, but rather a certain healthy and handsome matron with her light red hair intricately woven behind her head and the back of her neck. There was something familiar about her.

“Tiama?” Mika whispered in disbelief. He turned to look at her. She was slowly approaching the bars, her eyes blinking rapidly.

“You know her?” Tyro asked.

“She’s Tiama, the healer of Orca Pride.”

The woman on the other side of the cell laughed softly. There was nothing gentle or healing about her laugh. It was more of a quiet cackle that frayed Tyro’s nerves. “I’m afraid not,” she told them, shaking her head.

Mika scowled. “What?

“Oh dear,” the woman said, “you poor thing. So confused. Allow me to explain.” She raised a hand over her head. Tyro couldn’t exactly explain what happened, even as he watched it with his own eyes. What appeared to be a bright, red ball of liquid formed at the tips of her fingers. It traveled down her arm like a waterfall and along the way, it seemed to transform her. Her smooth, firm skin dissolved into folds of rotting and decaying wrinkles. The light red hair on her head became gray, stringy, and she seemed half bald. All the beauty of her face drained away to swallow, hollow cheeks, her eyes suddenly sunken in and bloodshot. A horrible smell emanated from this rotting hag, causing Tyro to take a step back, covering his mouth and nose.

“Who are you?” Mika demanded in horror.

“I am Kotake,” she said.

“Kotake?” Tyro repeated.

“One of the Twinrova sisters,” Mika explained quietly.

And it suddenly made sense. “You told them that we were coming,” Tyro exclaimed. “You’re the reason why we’re about to be executed.”

“I’m afraid so,” Kotake told them without a hint of remorse. “I’m very sorry, young ones, but I’m afraid that you simply have to die. There’s no choice for me in the matter, really.”

“You really are ruthless,” Mika hissed.

“I really am.”

“May Din curse you for the kin blood you’re about to spill,” Mika whispered. Beyond their sightlines, they could hear more footsteps. These had to be the executioners, the real ones.

Kotake leaned her head to one side. “To what are you referring?” she asked in genuine curiosity.

“Tyro is Alpha Petaleen’s son,” Mika growled. “You’re about to cause her to spill her own blood!”

At once, Kotake turned to look at Tyro, her beady eyes shining. “Is that so?” she mused. Tyro nodded vaguely. “Well,” Kotake murmured, more to herself than to the others. “We can’t have that.” She held her hand over her head again and a second ball of red liquid formed. This one traveled down her arm and seemed to reverse the previous one. Kotake’s form was once again changed into that of Tiama, pink and dimples, no trace of decay.

The two guards they had heard approaching appeared. As Tyro had imagined, they brandished large, sharp swords, these forged out of gold, probably specially reserved for decapitations. Both of them seemed surprised to see Kotake or Tiama or whatever she was. “What are you doing down here, mother?” one of the guards asked.

“I came to see my Alpha’s child one last time,” Kotake told her. “And right glad I am that I did. You’ve captured the wrong one!”

“Wrong one?” the guard said.

“This isn’t the one who came to kill Petaleen on behalf of the Beta!” Kotake cried. “Alpha Medea has two daughters. This one is Mika! She came here with a message for me. The one you were supposed to capture is Alcia!”

Mika looked at Tyro. “What?” she mouthed, as if he could possibly have some answer.

“You didn’t tell us there were two!” the guard shouted.

“Well, that is my mistake. But you cannot kill these prisoners. They’re completely innocent. Meanwhile, the girl trying to kill your Alpha is still at large somewhere.”

The guards exchanged bewildered looks. “Well,” the first one said, “I suppose we’d better take them up to the Alpha and explain all this.”

“You’re right,” the second one agreed. “You’ll have to come with us, mother.” But when they looked back, the old woman had vanished.

“Where did she go?” the first guard demanded of the prisoners.

Both Mika and Tyro shrugged. “I don’t know,” Mika said numbly.

“What do we do?” the second guard asked the first.

“Take them to the Alpha,” the first replied. “I won’t have Din cursing us for spilling innocent blood.”



“I hate this place, I hate this place, I hate this place,” Link chanted with every step as he hurried through the Valley. He had not anticipated his trek taking this long. Now, the sun was setting and he still hadn’t reached the camp. He had no food, no blankets, and no flint to make a fire. The odds seemed increasingly likely that he would starve and freeze before he managed to make it to the camp. Angrily, he cursed his own shortsightedness. Still, he supposed, he was lucky to be alive at all. Something told him Petaleen was not a patient woman. He had tested her limits enough.

Despite his fear of starvation and hypothermia, Link wasn’t particularly looking forward to arriving back at the camp either. He could only hope Sapphia had had more luck in dealing with Nebekah. She might be the only thing standing between the Jaguar and total elimination, on irony for a Kodiak. Link had no idea what her resolve was like, but prayed she could handle the situation. He made a mental note too. If he survived the ordeal he would make a point of getting to know her better. Let the demons giggle, he wanted to know her feelings toward the former Alpha male of the Kodiak Pride and what she had done during his seven years of sleep.

Link paused, turning around to get his bearings. He knew he was close, but frankly, he still felt a bit lost. He rubbed the back of his neck and turned around. His heart nearly came bursting out of his chest when he fond himself face to face with Deidre. She was standing idly behind him, having changed into a set of silvery robes that wafted gently in the breeze. “Deidre!” he yelped, clapping a hand over his chest. “You nearly gave me a heart attack.”

She regarded him curiously for a moment. “You’re Nebekah’s friend,” she finally said in a soft, echoic voice.

“Yeah, although I don’t know how to handle her when you keep getting her all riled up.”

“Over there!” a voice from beyond the ridge called. Link turned around to see a swarm of Jaguar rebels rushing down upon him. Most of them, he noticed, couldn’t have been older than sixteen, but they all brandished weapons, currently pointed in his direction.

“Hey!” he cried, holding ups hands up. “Easy! Easy, I’m on your side? Remember? Tell them, Deidre.” He expected a prompt response, but absolutely none came. Tentatively, Link looked over his shoulder. It was then he realized that Deidre had vanished. He turned back to the angry scouts with their weapons pointed at him. “Did you just see?”

“See who?” one of them sneered.

“Ignore him!” another called. “He’s just trying to distract us.”

“No!” Link insisted. “She was just here.”

“You need to come with us,” a scout told him, planting a hand on his shoulder and pointing a sword at his throat. A glance at her hand told Link that her grip was sloppy. He could easily have reached over his shoulder and drawn his sword, knocking her blade out of her hand, but he wasn’t here for a fight.

“What do you want with me?” Link asked. “I told you already, I’m on your side. I’m here with Nebekah.”

“Beta Nebekah sent us to find you,” the girl explained.

“Why?”

“That’s her business. Move!”

The young girls paraded Link over the ridge. He kept looking back over his shoulder, expecting Deidre to pop up from behind a stone and shout ‘surprise’ but rather to his chagrin, she did not appear. Had it finally happened? Had Link lost his mind completely? It wouldn’t surprise him all that much. But just the same, he was certain he had seen her. And he was equally certain that Gerudo Gammas didn’t just vanish into thin air. Well, at least he could take comfort in the fact that he no longer needed to fear getting lost. He would certainly not starve or freeze to death. He might, however, end up impaled.

Before too long, the rebel camp appeared, arrayed before them. Link was marched through the briar barrier, past several surprised onlookers. He wondered, vaguely, which surprised them more; the fact that he had returned or the fact that the girls had apparently captured him. It didn’t matter, but Link didn’t want to think of what was waiting for him back in the tents. Why would Nebekah send scouts out looking for him as if he were an enemy?

The tent flap was lifted and Link was shoved, none too gently, into the tent. Sitting on the floor were Nebekah, Sapphia, and Deidre. All three of them looked up as he entered, with varying degrees of surprise registering on their faces. Link tried to catch Sapphia’s eyes, to somehow gage exactly what was going on, but before he could, Nebekah stood up and walked over to him with a fire blazing in her eyes that he didn’t like one bit.

Link decided to speak first. “Nebekah, I –”

But Nebekah clapped a hand over his mouth, pulling his jaw shut with surprising strength. “What were you doing?” She removed her hand.

“Nothing, I was just –”

Again, she stopped him. “I know that you were seen going into enemy territory, Link.”

He grabbed her wrist, removing her hand from his face. “Enemy territory?” he sputtered. “I went to the stronghold.”

“So you admit it.”

“Yes!”

“Why? Why did you go there?”

“To talk,” Link said in exasperation.

“Talk.”

“Yes. You know, make sound as your lips move.”

“Don’t mock her!” Deidre sneered.

“Nebekah,” Link said firmly, “Listen to me. I went there to try and talk some sense into Petaleen. That’s it. I wasn’t giving up secrets, I wasn’t revealing the location of the camp. I just wanted to talk. There’s something fishing going on here. The dead of Petaleen’s forces are –”

“Why should I believe you?” Nebekah interrupted, mercifully without gagging him again.

Link sighed. “Nebekah, you know me. You’ve known me for a long time. And you know that I would rather die than betray a friend.”

She was silent for a moment. “True.”

“I would never do anything to hurt you, I swear it. I swear it on…” he floundered for something, “I swear it on my word as an honorary Dragon Delta. You never had to send those scouts out to find me.”

“These are hard times,” Nebekah said, finally backing down.

“I know,” he told her. “I know.” He turned to glance at Deidre. “Thanks for all your help, by the way.”

Deidre blinked. “What are you talking about?”

“When I ran into you out on the field, you could have told your scouts not to be so rude.”

“On the field?” Deidre repeated. “What are you talking about?”

Link gestured over his shoulder. “When I saw you out there. Right before I was arrested.”

Sapphia rose to her feet. “Link,” she said, “you’re clearly confused.”

“I’m not confused!” he replied.

“Yes, you are,” Sapphia told him, suddenly speaking as though she were addressing a toddler. “Because you couldn’t possibly have seen Deidre out in the Valley.”

“Why not?”

“Because she hasn’t left the camp.”

“That’s right!” Deidre shouted.

In an overly friendly sort of gesture, Sapphia wrapped her arm around Link’s shoulders. “I think a little walk ought to clear your head,” she said.

“I don’t need to clear my head,” Link answered.

“Yes, you do,” Sapphia said.

“I do?”

“Uh huh.” She gave him a very pointed look, careful to conceal it from Deidre and Nebekah behind her.

“Oh,” Link muttered.

“Come on, let’s take a walk.” Sapphia steered Link back to the tent flap. He allowed her to direct him, but quickly glanced back over his shoulder at Deidre and Nebekah. Nebekah was looking vaguely perplexed, but Deidre looked furious. There was no doubt in Link’s mind that the conversation would be about Nebekah’s misplaced trust in him, just as soon as he was out of earshot. What he wondered more, however, was what direction the conversation with Sapphia would take. He had a feeling he had just stumbled upon a rather important development.



For the second time, Mika and Tyro were forcibly led into the Alpha’s receiving chamber. It was evident from the moment they stepped inside that no one ever expected to see them alive again. Severed heads, perhaps, but not living entities still capable of thought and speech. Petaleen, who had been consulting with one of her scouts, turned to look up at them with an expression of such distaste that Mika could hardly blame Tyro’s nerve for failing. This was not a maternal woman.

“What’s the meaning of this?” Petaleen demanded of the guards and executioners leading them.

“There’s been a mistake, Alpha,” the first guard said.

“We’ve captured the wrong girl,” the second added.

“Wrong girl?” Petaleen repeated. “What are you talking about?”

“The Orca healer told us.”

“Told you what?”

“Alpha Medea has two daughters. This one and another one. This is the wrong one. It’s the other one who’s after you.”

Petaleen folded her arms. “Well, it would have been nice if she had told us before.”

The first guard nodded in agreement. “It was a mistake, she was most distraught.”

“I see,” Petaleen fumed.

“It’s lucky we found out before we killed them,” the second guard concluded a bit stupidly.

“Yes,” Petaleen said dryly. She turned to look at Mika. “What’s your lineage?” she demanded.

Mika sighed angrily. “I am Mika, daughter of Medea who is Alpha of the Orca Pride,” she repeated. “And I told you before that I am no assassin.”

Petaleen ignored this final barb, turning instead, back to the guards. “And what did Tiama tell you the name of the assassin was?”

“Alcia,” the second guard explained. “Who is also a daughter of Alpha Medea, apparently.”

“Scouts,” Petaleen called to the warriors lining the room. “Go out and see if you can’t find this Alcia before she decides to murder me?”

In unison, all of the guards saluted. As they began to march out of the room, Mika stepped forward. “Alpha,” she said crisply, “you won’t find her. Alcia’s been dead for some time now.”

“Oh,” the first guard piped, “is that why you came here?”

“What do you mean?” Petaleen barked.

“Tiama told us that she came to deliver a message.”

“That woman is not Tiama of Orca Pride,” Mika snapped.

“What do you mean?” Petaleen asked.

“She’s Kotake,” Tyro said softly.

Petaleen’s eyebrows shot up. “A man who dares to speak in my presence knows the name of one of the Twinrova sisters?”

“My friends and I have been on a quest to stop the Twinrova sisters,” Mika explained.

“The Twinrova sisters are dead,” Petaleen replied.

“No,” Mika said. “They’re still alive. Or they’ve come back to life. Either way, they’ve been causing great mischief for the other Prides and I think that now they’re playing with Jaguar Pride.”

“Well, that would explain why you were shouting their name as you were led from the chamber,” Petaleen said dryly.

“Tiama does not leave Orca territory. That woman was Kotake,” Mika told her, hoping that perhaps she would listen.

“I have little evidence of that, other than your word.”

“Why won’t you believe me?” Mika asked.

“I find it difficult to take the word of a Gerudo who considers a man to be her friend,” Petaleen answered.

Mika turned to look at Tyro. He stood silently by, his hands folded behind his back, looking down at the floor. In that moment, she could understand him more clearly than ever before. After such a long time hating the Gerudo, now he had discovered that his own mother, the woman who had given birth to him, was one of them. She finally understood why he hadn’t said anything about it and why he never would. The fiction that had been his mother was gone. This reality would never bring that back for him. And for the first time, she felt her heart call out to him with the tender pity she had never allowed herself to feel for the man she thought killed Alcia.

“That is your loss,” Mika said quietly. “I have learned to appreciate the qualities men can bring to life.”

“And what qualities are those?” Petaleen asked with a bit of a cruel laugh in her voice.

“The same qualities that any Gerudo can possess,” Mika responded. “Heroics, courage, intelligence. I am fortunate enough to have two men that I am able to call my friends.”

“Two?” Petaleen repeated. “How quaint. Who’s the other, if I may be so bold as to ask?”

“My brother,” Mika replied.

“Brother? You are an Alpha’s daughter.”

“I am a Thin Blood,” Mika told her proudly. “And I have two heritages I can call my own, Gerudo and Hylian. And I am proud to call the Hero of Time my brother. He is a good man who –”

“The Hero of Time?” Petaleen interrupted.

“Yes.”

“Link?”

“That’s his name.”

“Hmmm…” Petaleen mused. “Interesting that your brother should pay me a visit without asking of your whereabouts.”

Mika blinked. “Link was here?”

“A few hours ago. He came as an ambassador of peace, begging me to end this conflict.”

“If he came as an ambassador, then he speaks true,” Mika insisted. “Link is a trusted friend to Nebekah and he –”

“Nebekah?”

“Yes.”

Petaleen took one step down from the dais. “Nebekah is alive?”

“She’s a member of our fellowship,” Mika said. “She’s been helping us to stop Twinrova.”

“And where is she now?”

“I don’t know,” Mika said slowly, a scowl forming on her face. “You’ve had us locked up in a dungeon.”

“She wouldn’t, by chance, be among the rebels trying to take my title as Jaguar Alpha?”

“I…” And Mika could say nothing more. It was only too late that she had realized her mistake.

“So, Link is working with the rebels,” Petaleen muttered. “I knew it. He’s betrayed me.”

“Betrayed you?” Tyro said suddenly. “How?”

“You keep your man’s tongue silent in my presence,” Petaleen barked to Mika. She then turned to the remaining warriors in the room. “The ceasefire has been called off. It was a trick. The rebels are doubtlessly mounting an attack, hoping that I’ll have laid down arms. We must prepare to march against them. Tonight.”

“I’m sure that’s not true!” Mika cried.

“Enough. I’ve heard enough out of you. I shall spare your life, as I wrongfully imprisoned you, but I will have no more trouble. I want you and your man out of my fortress now. And should I ever see the two of you again, I will not hesitate to kill you on the spot.”

And with that, Petaleen turned her back on them, effectively dismissing them. Mika took a step forward, about to speak, to urge Petaleen to believe in the Twinrova sisters, but she suddenly felt a hand on her shoulder. She turned to see Tyro who gently shook his head. She opened her mouth to object, but he quietly shook his head, his face set in a steely resolve she had never really seen before today. Touching his wrist lightly, she nodded and together, the two of them slowly made their way from the room, ignored as Petaleen called out various marching orders to the remaining Jaguar in attendance. There would be no grand send off, but that was to be expected.

Quietly, the two of them slipped out of the room. They walked through the eerily silent halls, their footsteps echoing behind them. Mika hung her head, watching her feet as she went. Her frustration was bubbling furiously, but she had managed to hold her tongue for once. She could only hope, now that the others could sort this out because, from her position she could do nothing but watch. Mika hated feeling so helpless. Angrily, she chewed on one of her hair wraps. It had come undone now, a flash of blond hair peeking out from the threads. She realized, strangely, that it was the same color as Link’s hair.

There was no real thought put into the journey. Somehow, Mika and Tyro’s feet knew the way and guided them through the corridors to the grand entrance of the Jaguar Pride, a door that had always been open to strangers and misfits, a door that had once been open to Petaleen, a Thin Blood who longed to be a Gerudo. Wars never opened doors though. They only closed them. Yet, as Mika and Tyro silently made their way through, Mika found her hand in Tyro’s hand and felt another kind of door, one in her heart, opening.



“Link,” Sapphia hissed as she led him out of earshot of the Jaguar rebel camp, “Deidre hasn’t left. She’s been with Nebekah, plotting their great and glorious revenge on Petaleen.”

“Well, I saw her,” Link insisted. “Out beyond the ridge, I swear. Only she wasn’t wearing that brown thing. She was dressed in silver.”

“Silver?”

“Yes, silver.”

Sapphia shook her head. “This doesn’t make any sense.”

“You think I don’t know that?” he cried.

“Why don’t you show me where you saw her?”

“Okay, follow me.” And Link began to retrace his steps through the Valley, a fairly easy task during the day, when footsteps could be made out, but a bit more daunting at night.

“How did your visit with Alpha Petaleen go?” Sapphia asked as she followed after him.

“Not good,” Link answered, pausing to scan the horizon for a familiar plain or rock formation.

“What happened?”

“She won’t back down. She offered the rebels a choice: Surrender or die. Not the most unique of options.”

“Decidedly not,” Sapphia agreed.

Link turned around suddenly to face her. “Sapphia,” he said urgently. How could he have for gotten?”

“What?”

“Their dead are missing too.”

“What!?”

He nodded. “Petaleen told me. Their dead are missing too. They blame the other side, of course.”

“Did you tell her about their dead?”

“Yes, but that didn’t seem to convince them that someone else was behind this whole thing.”

“Not just someone,” Sapphia said softly. “The Twinrova sisters.”

“Yeah, I guess, but…”

“But what?”

Link scowled. “Well, I just can’t figure it out.”

“What?”

“What would the Twinrova sisters want with a lot of Jaguar bodies?”

“It isn’t the bodies,” an echoic voice called. “It’s the blood.”

Both Link and Sapphia whirled around. Standing off to one side, they saw Deidre, as Link had seen her before, draped in silver robes and looking windswept. “Deidre?” Link asked. “I don’t understand. What are you trying to pull here? Are you changing behind the rock?”

“I’m afraid not,” Deidre said softly.

“Holy Din,” Sapphia whispered.

Link turned to look at her. “What? What is it?”

Sapphia didn’t answer. Instead, she stepped forward, walking over to Sapphia. She stopped short and held up her hand, her palm facing the other woman. Slowly, she pressed her hand forward toward Deidre’s shoulder. Her hand slipped right through Deidre’s skin as if she weren’t even there. “She’s a ghost,” Sapphia hissed, turning back to Link.

“You don’t need to whisper,” Deidre said. “I’m aware of the fact.”

“I don’t understand,” Link mumbled, stepping forward and running his own hand straight through Deidre’s arm. “We just saw you back at camp.”

“That’s not me,” Deidre said quietly.

“You’re dead?”

“Yes.”

“How?”

“I was run through, trying to defend Miral,” she explained. “My body was the first one snatched.”

“Petaleen accuses you of killing Miral,” Link told her.

Deidre nodded. “Yes, I was the one assigned to protect her. She was found dead and I was nowhere near. It was a logical conclusion. Just as it as a logical conclusion to blame Petaleen, who first found the body.”

“But neither of you did it?” Sapphia questioned.

“No,” Deidre answered, shaking her head as her willowy hair danced in an imaginary breeze.

“Who did?”

“Kotake,” Deidre said.

“Should have seen that one coming,” Link muttered.

“She killed Miral in order to start a civil war amongst the Jaguar.”

“Why?” Link asked. “To stop us from getting the Topaz?”

“No. It had nothing to do with you.”

“Then why?”

“It’s about blood.”

“You said that before. About the bodies.”

“The Twinrova sisters require ample amounts of blood.”

“No better place to find that than a civil war,” Sapphia spat bitterly. If there was one thing Link had observed about the Kodiak Beta, it was that she seemed to detest infighting amongst the Gerudo.

“Yes. The Twinrova sisters are collecting the bodies of the fallen and draining their blood.”

“But why?” Link implored. “What do they need the blood?”

“They are attempting to restore their youth. Their power.”

“And blood is the way to do it?”

“Like the Saber Tooth,” Sapphia murmured. “Do you remember what Nebekah told us?”

Link racked his brain for a moment. “Yes,” he said suddenly, “they bathe in the blood of their fallen foes because they believe it gives them beauty.”

“And the Saber Tooth as a whole are a very beautiful race.”

“So you’re saying that Kotake and Koume started this whole feud so they could take a beauty bath?”

“Yes,” Deidre answered. “And it has having consequences far beyond civil war,” she added.

Link rubbed the back of his neck. “What do you mean?”

“When bodies are taken,” she explained with a touch of sadness, “they cannot be mourned. And when a body is not properly mourned, then the spirit cannot cross over to the afterlife.”

For a moment, Link and Sapphia both quietly stared at Deidre. Link wondered if she was in pain, suffering in this state of being. He had never thought of it before. “Like you,” he whispered.

“And all of my fallen sisters on either side,” Deidre said with a nod. “The civil war is having cosmic consequences beyond measure.”

“We really need to stop it,” Sapphia said.

“I agree,” Link muttered. “But I just don’t know how.”

“Time is running short,” Deidre told them.

“What do you mean?”

“Petaleen’s forces have begun to march on the rebel camp. Soon, the rebel scouts will report this. The rebels will lead their own charge. The two sides of this conflict will clash tonight.”

“And if we don’t stop it,” Link finished, “then the Twinrova sisters will have a whole mess of bodies.” He felt his throat dry up. “It could make them absolutely unstoppable.”

“The more blood,” Deidre said, “the more power. And kindred blood is always potent when spilled by kindred.”

In the distance, Link suddenly heard the muted cry of a ram’s horn from the rebel camp. “A call to arms,” Sapphia said.

“Then the news has spread.”

“There’s no way we can talk Nebekah out of this,” Link grumbled. “Deidre…the fake Deidre…has poisoned her mind.” He blinked, suddenly feeling like the stupidest man on earth. “That’s one of them, isn’t it? That’s one of the Twinrova sisters, assuming your form!”

Sapphia stared at him in disbelief. “It can’t be.”

Deidre, however, nodded. “That is Koume. With Miral’s blood and mine, she has become powerful enough to attain a youthful form. With each body, her staying power grows.” Deidre looked pained. “You must stop tonight’s battle.”

Link sighed. “Yeah. But we can’t do it alone.”

“What do you mean?” Sapphia asked. “Who else do we have to call on?”

Instead of answering, Link turned to Deidre again. “Deidre,” he said. “How many of your sisters are in this spectral form?”

“About forty,” she said. “Why?”

“Can you find them?”

“Yes.”

“Good. Because we’re going to need your help. Now, one more question.”

“What is it?”

“Where are the two forces likely to meet?”

Deidre shrugged. “The dried up river bed.”

Link grabbed Sapphia’s hand with such alacrity, that she cried out in surprise. “Come on,” he told her, already taking off at a sprint. “We’ve got there!”



The call to arms had been sounded on Nebekah’s orders. She the stood in the midst of the chaos, listening to the deep, mellow call of the horn as her warriors dressed her for battle. This was a right reserved for the Alphas, but granted to her by Deidre in the wake of the disaster. After all, she now marched as the acting Alpha of the Pride. The rightful Alpha. She carried at her side a silver chakram that had once belonged to Miral. On her head, her long red dreadlocks were adorned with a helmet that had been passed down through the generations of Alphas, etched with prowling jaguars, their muscles tense and ready for battle.

The enemy forces could be seen now, approaching on the opposite side of the river bed where they were almost certain to clash. Nebekah’s eyes scanned the ranks, seeking out Petaleen. Sure enough, the vile woman was there, leading her army. Rage filled Nebekah’s heart as she saw Miral’s Shard hanging from a gold chain around Petaleen’s neck. By all rights, it belonged to her now. Then again, Nebekah would rather it still belonged to Miral. Now, her murderer wore it, a thought that galled Nebekah.

“Revenge,” Deidre whispered into her ear as they continued their steady march to battle.

“Revenge,” Nebekah repeated. Vaguely, she found herself wondering how many people might fall in this battle. It was discouraging to think that women so loyal to Miral would perish before her death was avenged. Link had disappeared, which was more the pity, as Nebekah would have enjoyed charging into battle with the Hero of Time at her side. A brief pang of paranoia gripped her throat. She examined the enemy ranks again, but was relieved to see that Link had not defected. She scolded herself for question his character. She knew better, knew exactly what Link was: A friend, no matter what, to the very end.

The end. It struck Nebekah, at that very moment, that she might be facing her own death. She didn’t mind it so much. Since her early childhood, she had been indoctrinated with the notion of her own morality. To die was simply a matter of course. What really mattered wasn’t the when so much as the how of it. She would gladly sacrifice her life for the honor of Miral or another good friend. It frustrated her, however, to think of departing the mortal coil without avenging this terrible wrong. There was nothing scarier than leaving unfinished business behind her.

By this point, Nebekah could clearly make out the faces of her enemy, bathed silver in the moonlight. She knew each and everyone of them. Most, she had even grown up with and trained to become a warrior alongside. As they stared at her now, they were like strangers, phantom, glossy eyes gazing out of familiar heads, ready to do the bidding of their blood thirsty, usurping leader. Petaleen raised an arm and her army came to a halt on the far bank of the river. Nebekah followed suit. With a single gesture, her ranks stopped, glaring across the dried river bed.

“Your orders?” Deidre asked, standing stiffly at attention beside Nebekah, never taking her eyes off of the opposing army.

“Wait,” Nebekah mumbled.

“Wait!?” Deidre cried, a bit too loudly. In a quieter sotto, she leaned in and muttered, “Are you mad?”

“Let her make the first move,” Nebekah said softly.

“Beta Nebekah,” Petaleen called from across the river.

Nebekah took a step forward, over the indignant squawk of Deidre. “Petaleen,” she said coldly.

“I am glad to see you alive,” Petaleen said. “And deeply sorry to see you marching against me.”

“I must do what I must do,” Nebekah told her gruffly.

“It doesn’t have to be this way,” Petaleen said.

“It does.”

Petaleen nodded gravely. “So be it. Tomorrow morning will be a lucky day for the vultures.” She leaned her head to one side. “May you die quickly,” she said sympathetically.

“And may you die the slowest, most painful death imaginable,” Nebekah replied. She spat into the river bed.

“So be it.” Petaleen balled her hand into a fist, shooting it forward in the direction of the rebels. “Attack!”

Nebekah repeated the gesture. “Attack!” she shouted to her warriors.

“Ya!” the Gerudo on either side roared.

“Stop!!!” a third voice shouted, but it was too late. The opposing forces began to close in on the river bed. Nebekah, for all of her determination, hesitated a moment and in that moment, she realized who had called for a halt. Link and Sapphia were racing down the river bed, waving their arms wildly in the air and attempting, fruitlessly, to shoo back the opposite ranks. They would be crushed!

“Get out of the way, Link!” Nebekah screamed, but her cries were lost under the steady pounding of feet. Any second now, the two sides would converge in the middle, destroying anything in the path.

“Stop fighting!” Sapphia cried.

“Stop! Stop! Stop!” Link continued, going pink in the face. “Pull back! Pull back!”

“He’s insane!” Deidre exclaimed. But what happened next proved quite to the contrary.

Nebekah wasn’t entirely sure what happened, but somehow, the air around the two of them seemed to ripple, like the surface of a glossy lake. It was so fast that she didn’t know what to think of it, but one minute, Link and Sapphia were standing alone and in the next, the entire river bed was flooded, not with water, but with dozens and dozens of women dressed in flowing, silvery garments, their hair waving as though there were a gale, though there was none. The shock took a moment to set in, but in about two seconds, everyone on the field had seen the strangers and came to a crashing halt on opposite sides.

“Well,” Link muttered, “That’s more like it.”

Excited and agitated whispers began to arise from the assembled warriors. Nebekah, for her own part, found herself examining the strange women. They were Gerudos of Jaguar Pride, all of them ones that she had taken for traitors, but who she now saw marched with no one. How had they appeared so suddenly? She scanned their faces and immediately spotted one who looked exactly like Deidre. She didn’t look like Deidre, she was Deidre. But how could that be? As Nebekah turned to one side, she saw Deidre standing there, looking every bit as confused as all the others.

“Look!” Sapphia shouted. “Look on the faces of your dead!”

“These are the victims of a trick!” Link added. “They were killed, not by your hate, but by the workings of the Twinrova sisters!”

“Impossible!” Petaleen declared, taking a step forward to the specters. “This is some kind of magic trick. They can’t be ghosts.”

“Why not?” Sapphia asked.

Petaleen pointed to the Deidre beside Nebekah. Everyone turned in unison to stare at her. A few even took steps back. But Link immediately stepped forward, marching out of the bed and straight to the woman. “Show yourself,” he growled, drawing his sword from behind his back.

“What are you doing?” Nebekah hissed to him.

“This isn’t Deidre,” Link said, pointing his blade at her chest. He gestured over his shoulder. “That is.”

Nebekah turned to look at the phantom Deidre. She nodded mournfully. “It’s the truth,” she said. Her voice was distant and echoic, causing all of the Gerudo to shudder in surprise.

“You’re the real Deidre?” Nebekah wondered.

“Yes.”

“No!” the other Deidre called.

Confused, Nebekah looked back and forth. “How do I know?”

“Don’t listen to her,” the Deidre Link was pointing his sword at called. “She’s some kind of illusion.”

The phantom Deidre merely smiled. “Your mother Elena,” she said softly, “had a filly named Vantika that she never broke because she admired the horse’s spirit so much.”

And Nebekah immediately knew who was telling the truth. She whirled around on the woman in Link’s aim, drawing the chakram and pointing the sharp ring directly at her. “Who are you?”

“She’s the one who killed Miral,” Link said. He turned to look over his shoulder at the other side. “This is the cause of your war!”

The flesh and blood Deidre began laughing. She clapped her hands slowly, a cruel smile on her face. “Oh really,” Sapphia muttered, “You’re not actually going to do the sarcastic clapping thing, are you?”

“Well done, Hero,” the false front said, glaring at Link.

“Who are you?” Nebekah barked.

“Perhaps I should show you.” Deidre held her hand up. What appeared to be a bright, red ball of liquid formed at the tips of her fingers. Nebekah felt queasy at once because it looked like blood. It traveled down Deidre’s arm like a waterfall and along the way, it transformed her. Her smooth, firm skin dissolved into folds of rotting and decaying wrinkles. The red hair on her head became gray, stringy, and she seemed half bald. All the beauty of her face drained away to swallow, hollow cheeks, her eyes suddenly sunken in and bloodshot.

Every last one of the Gerudo, regardless of what side they were on, took a step back in revulsion, gasping and inhaling the rotting smell emanating from the creature. Everyone except Link, who kept his sword trained on her. “This is Koume,” he said coldly.

“Glad you remember me, kid,” she cackled. “You give me far too much credit though. Kotake killed Miral. I just dabbled in some vanity spells.”

“Enough talk. Fight me.”

Koume shook her head, smiling mildly. “Afraid not, Hero. Your death has already been determined. And it won’t be today.”

“Fight me!” he cried.

Instead, Koume turned to look at the Jaguar. “I owe you ladies thanks,” she said. “Without your help, my sister and I could not have been restored to our great power. I thank you for the war and I thank you for all the blood it has supplied. Best of luck to you in the future.”

“Get her!” Petaleen shouted, but it was already too late. Koume, with her great power restored, vanished like a bubble on the point of a needle, leaving the stunned warriors without their target.

In the silence that followed, Link threw his sword down to the ground, letting it hit with a dull thud. He turned and looked at Nebekah. As their eyes met, meaning flooded through Nebekah’s chest. She felt like a fool. She had been used and betrayed and manipulated. And the worst part was that he had known. The entire time, he had tried to warn her, but she hadn’t bothered to listen. She had been too obsessed with revenge. But now, now was her opportunity to make things right.

Nebekah threw Miral’s chakram down to the ground. “Throw down your weapons,” she ordered the others. They exchanged uncertain looks. “Do it!” she snapped and the warriors obeyed.”

“Throw down your weapons,” Petaleen ordered on the other side. Her followers all dropped swords, bows, and spears to the ground.

“You and you,” Link said, pointing first to Petaleen and then to Nebekah. “Come to the river bed now.”

Wordlessly, Nebekah obeyed. When Petaleen saw her doing so, she too started to make her way through the ranks to the dried up bed. “Link!” someone called out of the crowd on Petaleen’s side. Nebekah turned to watch as Mika and Tyro appeared, shoving confused Deltas out of the way.

“Tyro! Mika!” Sapphia exclaimed, rushing to meet them.

“What’s going on?” Mika asked.

“In a minute,” Sapphia told her.

By now, both Nebekah and Petaleen had come to Link. “All right,” he told them firmly. “Now I want you two to shake hands and call off this war.”

“No man gives me orders,” Petaleen said haughtily.

“Do you want to supply Twinrova with a mountain pile of bodies?” he asked coolly. “Do what I say.”

Nebekah thrust her hand forward. After a moment, Petaleen did likewise. They clasped each other around the wrist and shook. “Peace?” Nebekah asked.

Petaleen nodded. “Peace.”

It was the kind of signal the others had clearly been waiting for. At once, a flood of warriors descended from either side, as the two sides of the war reunited with their loved ones from the opposite side. There was a great deal of commotion, of crying and hugging and sobs of rejoicing. Nebekah stood where she was, gripping Petaleen’s arm. As she looked into Petaleen’s eyes, she realized that while Petaleen might be many things, she was not the murderer. She was staring into a sister’s eyes, not the eyes of someone she was meant to kill. Now, at least, she knew who the real enemy was. She had seen Koume.

Mika had crept over to Link’s side. The two of them hugged, somewhat awkwardly. “What’s going on?” Mika whispered. “Who are these?” she gestured to the ghosts.

Nebekah had almost forgotten about them! “I don’t understand how they came back,” she said to Link.

“Without bodies, they could not be properly mourned,” Sapphia explained casually. “You all were too busy trying to slaughter each other to give them the proper burial rites.”

“A funeral should be held,” Nebekah said.

Petaleen nodded. “Agreed. A pyre for each of the dead, to be properly mourned and set off.” She scowled. “You know, this means that you’re technically the proper Alpha of the Pride.” She reached up behind her head and unclasped the thick gold chain, handing over the Shard to Nebekah.

Nebekah took it, holding it carefully. For a moment, she stared silently, remembering all the times when she and Miral would sneak into the chambers of Miral’s mother to steal glances at it, knowing full that one day, it would be long to Miral. She had never dreamed it would belong to her. “I will take this,” she said thickly, “but I leave Jaguar Pride in your care.”

“What?” Petaleen asked.

“I want you to watch over our people. Be Alpha.”

“What about you?”

“I have to avenge Miral’s death,” she said. “And now, I know who the murderer is. I need to help Link defeat the Twinrova sisters.”

“I understand,” Petaleen told her. “The Pride will be waiting for you when you come back.”

“Take everyone home,” Nebekah said gently, managing a small smile.

At once, Petaleen turned her attention to the warriors, busy reuniting. Nebekah made her way over to Link and the others, turning over the Jaguar Shard in her hands. As the moonlight glinted off of the chain, she caught sight of an inscription in the Hylian text. Immediately, she handed it over to Link. “What does it say?”

Link took the chain, angling it to read. “It says, ‘…everyone who wants it can find it…’”

Tyro frowned. “‘One thing stands between the stone and the grave……it cannot be held, yet it can fill the air…everyone who wants it can find it…’ Not very specific, is it?”

“No,” Sapphia agreed. “But we’ll figure it out.”

Nebekah looked at Tyro and Mika. She noticed, strangely, that they seemed to be holding hands. Mika followed her gaze and quickly yanked her hand free of Tyro’s hand. “Where have you two been?” Nebekah asked them.

“It’s a long story,” Mika said. She turned to Link. “What do we do now?”

“We need to get moving,” Link said. “Twinrova is more powerful than ever now. And no offense, Nebekah, but I don’t particularly want to linger around Jaguar territory right now. Petaleen really doesn’t like men.”

“I know,” Nebekah sighed.

“What is her problem?”

“No one really knows,” Nebekah admitted.

“I think we should find out,” Mika said.

Tyro shook his head slightly. “Not worth it.”

“Oh. Okay.”

Raising an eyebrow, Nebekah looked back and forth between the two of them. “Well, I’ll want to hear all about what you’ve been up to.”

“Not worth it,” Mika said. And with that, she walked away, heading up the stretch of the river bed.

“What she said,” Tyro muttered, following her.

Sapphia pursed her lips. “Is it just me, or are those two getting weirder?” Without waiting for an answer, she followed.

Link turned to look at Nebekah. “Are you okay?” he asked her.

“No,” she said. “But I will be.”

“You really scared me back there.”

“I know. I really scared myself, too.”

“I’ve never seen you like that before.”

“Miral meant the world to me,” Nebekah said. “She was my best friend.”

“I know.”

“But I want you to know something else.”

“What?”

“If anyone ever hurt you, I’d do the exact same thing. Because as much as my Gerudo friends mean to me, sometimes I think that I care for you even more.” She paused. “Blondie.”

An enormous smile spread over Link’s face. “I love you, Nebekah.”

“I love you too. In a completely asexual sort of way.”

“Oh yeah.”

Laughing softly, Nebekah clapped a hand to Link’s back. Together, the two of them headed out, following Sapphia, Tyro, and Mika. Behind her, Nebekah could hear great rejoicing and she knew that her people would be all right. They had overcome a terrible trick by Twinrova. Nebekah, and the others, would see to it that the sisters never did this to them, to any Gerudo, again.



When Koume returned to the ice palace, she found Kotake busily at work, burning the pale remains of the drained Jaguar dead. There was an intense, overzealous look to her sunken and yellow eyes, telling Koume that she took no note of the fact that her fire was so hot it was blue and that it was slowly melting the wall she stood by. Sighing in particular annoyance, Koume held out her hands to the wall and, with relative ease, repaired the damage.

“Koume!” Kotake called in surprise as the blue glow of Koume’s power hit the wall beside her.

“I’m back,” Koume said.

“Wonderful, wonderful. I’m almost done with these.”

“The plan went awry. The Jaguar caught me before they could engage in the slaughter.”

“We have enough to last us for awhile,” Kotake said merrily.

Folding her arms across her chest, Koume stared at her sister. “You’re in a good mood,” she said, “considering the fact that your brilliant plan failed.”

“You lose some,” Kotake chirped, “and you win some.”

“Mother used to say that.”

“She did, didn’t she?”

“And did we win?”

“Oh, I would certainly say so,” Kotake replied.

“The blood we gathered won’t last forever.”

“It doesn’t have to last forever. Ganondorf’s return is coming much sooner than we could ever have hoped.”

“Far be it for me to question you,” Koume mumbled.

“Everything is falling into place, sister.” Kotake seemed satisfied with the charred remains, because she pulled her arms back and the fire stopped abruptly, leaving behind a pile of black ashes on the pristine ground.

“I wish I could share your optimism.”

“Don’t you worry your pretty little head over a minor set-back,” Kotake told her, striding over.

“I do have one question though.”

“What is it?”

“Back in the Jaguar stronghold, you had two of the fellowship at your mercy. You could have done away with them easily.”

“Mika and Tyro, yes.”

“Well…why didn’t you?”

“What?”

“Why didn’t you have them killed? You’ve never, ever hesitated to kill anyone before.”

Kotake smiled, her old, yellowing teeth gleaming at her sister. “We’re going to need them after all,” she said.

“Why?”

“I learned something very interesting while I was visiting with them. Very interesting indeed.”

“What?”

“Tyro is the son of Petaleen.”

Koume shrugged. “So?”

“Dullard,” Kotake moaned with a longsuffering sigh.

“What? He’s the son of the usurper.”

“He’s the son of an Alpha.”

For a moment, Koume was silent. “The son of an Alpha,” she repeated at long last.

“Yes.”

“Then that means…”

“Yes.”

She blinked. “We must tell the vessel.”

Mika was having a pleasant dream. She was a child again, playing silly games with Alcia in the courtyard of her mother’s apartments. The two of them screamed in a carefree sort of way as they dodged imaginary arrows and heroically saved each other from fantastic monsters that defied convention; purple dragons that sprayed pitch from their noses, mighty elephants with snakes for tusks, birds of prey whose beaks dripped with venom, and of course, men. The men were the worst with their long, gangly arms and their buck teeth, stupidly chasing the girls around with the intention of carrying them away. But nothing could defeat the mighty Mika and Alcia, slayers of the impossible creatures their imaginations created.

Unfortunately, an all too real noise kept disturbing Mika’s dreams. It was a rustling that she at first accepted to be the crunching of oasis grass beneath her adolescent feet. She did her best to ignore the sounds, but they continued, growing louder and louder. They stirred her from her slumber, pulling Alcia farther and farther away from her. The dream slowly slipped through her fingers and Mika slowly opened her eyes to find a pitch black sky above her, dotted with purple stars.

Her blanket was unnaturally warm and when she turned to look to her side, she realized that Tyro was lying beside her. It was a moment before her dream addled mind could fully grasp what she was seeing. She gasped, sitting up ramrod straight. Around her slept Nebekah and Sapphia, both practically comatose in their blankets. Squinting into the distance, she could make out the silhouette of Link, sitting up on a hill and keeping watch by the light of a torch. She turned to look down at Tyro, who lay motionless by her side. Carefully, she examined his throat and noticed his adam’s apple bob as he swallowed.

“Faker,” she hissed.

Tyro opened one eye. “How could you tell?”

“You don’t swallow when you sleep. Any novice warrior will tell you that. What are you doing here?”

He sat up, the blanket slipping off of him. “I just wanted to snuggle up to you,” he said without a trace of his usual irony.

“Do it someplace else.”

“That sort of defeats the purpose.”

She glanced quickly around the campsite. “Someone could see.”

“Are you embarrassed by me?”

“A little bit.”

It seemed that Tyro had not been expecting that answer. His usual smile fell. “Oh.”

Mika sighed. “We need to talk.”

“I guess we do.”

“What happened in the Jaguar dungeon wasn’t normal. There were circumstances. We thought we were going to die.”

“And apparently, you felt that your last act in this life ought to be kissing me,” he said. “You did it for an awfully long time.”

“I was scared and…I don’t know. We were both in a panic.”

“Mika, you’re a Gerudo.”

“I know.”

“Do Gerudo normally kiss people when they’re in a panic?”

“No.”

“Exactly,” he said just a bit too loudly. She gave him a pained look and he lowered his voice. “It wasn’t normal. That means there must have been something more to it. I felt something. And I know you did too.”

“Maybe…”

“Don’t fight it, Mika. There’s something between us.”

“At the moment,” she said, pulling her blanket closer to her chest, “there isn’t enough between us.”

“I want to be near you,” he told her earnestly. “I can’t help it.”

“I really wish you would.”

“I’ve never felt this way about a girl before.”

“I’m sure that’s very nice. Very flattering.”

“I’m not trying to flatter, that’s it!”

“Shhhh!”

He lowered his voice again. “What I mean to say is, you’re not like other girls and I know it. Other girls would fall for flattery, so I would dish it out. But not with you. You’re different.”

“I think you’re just a little bit confused,” Mika muttered, turning to look up at Link on the hill.

Tyro caught her chin in his hand, turning her face back to look at his. “I’ve never felt less confused about anything in my life.”

“Tyro…”

And with that, he kissed her. His lips were warm and inviting, tasting vaguely of dates. She couldn’t help but kiss him back, gently brushing her fingers down the side of his hair as though this were the natural thing to do. Tyro leaned in, deepening the kiss and pressing up against her chest. For a second time, she felt his heartbeat against hers, the rhythm of life that seemed to drive her to do more. Lightly, she touched his cheek, the feel of his stubble new and exciting. Tyro brushed his fingertips against her wrist, dragging them along her arm and wrapping his hand around the back of her neck. As he pulled her close, he began to slowly lean her back against the ground, planting one hand beside her head on the blanket.

Her head began rushing, dreaming and imagining things she had never before considered. There was a strange sensation in the pit of her stomach, a bit like hunger only more enjoyable. She felt his lips brush against the skin of her neck, but for some reason, she couldn’t see it. Her vision was clouded, swimming with flashes of stars and Tyro’s hair and strange new things.

She ran her hands down his chest as he kissed her shoulder and across her collarbone. Her breathing had become a frantic race, her chest falling up and down. It was too fast. This was all happening so quickly that she had begun to panic again. This couldn’t happen. She was a Gerudo, she wouldn’t tolerate it. With brute force, she pushed him back, sending him flying away from her to land on his back. “Ow…” he muttered.

Mika sat up, pulling her blanket around her body protectively. “No,” she told him firmly.

He sat up, rubbing the back of his head and looking flushed. “Why not?” he asked.

“Because,” she sputtered.

“Because what?”

“Because…because…no!”

“Mika…”

She held her hands up, shaking her head to clear it away of the fog. “No,” she insisted.

“There is no shame in surrendering to your feelings,” he said.

“Well, I’m not sure what those are right now.”

He frowned, looking a bit hurt. “You’re not.” It wasn’t a question, but rather, it sounded like a total defeat.

“Tyro, you have to understand.”

“Understand what?”

“As far as men are concerned…well…I’ve never thought of them…that way. I’ve always…”

“Thought of us as target practice,” he sighed.

“I suppose that’s one way of putting it.”

“There is nothing unnatural about desire. It’s the opposite. Living without it is strange.”

“It may be strange to you,” Mika said, “but it’s the way I’ve known for my entire life.”

“Well, I’m glad your mother, your biological mother, didn’t feel the same way,” he droned. “Otherwise, we’d have no Hero of Time at all, would we?” His frown softened. “Or you.”

“I wish I remembered my parents,” Mika muttered. “Then maybe I’d understand this Hylian obsession with love.”

“Well, I wish you remembered them too.” He stood up slowly. “I’ll go back to my blanket. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight.”

Mika watched him slink away, returning to his rumpled blanket beside Sapphia. Her head swirled with conflict. Desire, he called it. Desire was the name for the feeling inside of Mika’s stomach. There was a satisfaction of knowing that. Any beast was easier to slay when it had a name. But Mika wasn’t sure if she wanted to put an end to it. There was something pleasant about it and part of her wished to explore it further. She would never admit it to Tyro, but she was certain there was more than panic in their first kiss. That was another beast she had yet to name.

The problem was, with every longing look in his direction, with every idle thought and memory of the kiss, Mika felt a small pang, a stab in her heart as she remembered her own upbringing. Each little longing was like a betrayal to Medea and her Orca sisters, the Gerudo who had taught her everything worth knowing in the world. Mika wanted desperately to reconcile her feelings, but she knew that there was no way to bring them together. She was either a Gerudo or she was like every other silly Hylian girl she and her sisters had so often mocked and laughed about.

Tyro had looked so hurt, so betrayed when she pushed him away. That bothered Mika too. Despite all they had been through and all she had blamed him for, she found herself not wanting to hurt him. She couldn’t believe she actually felt so guilty for bruising his pride, but she did. Things had been so much simpler when she could easily hate him, blaming him for a multitude of hurts, but things were different now. She knew of his own pain and she was forced to accept the fact that Alcia’s death hadn’t been his fault. That had been an accident.

But where did that leave her? She couldn’t stay in this limbo forever. She would have to make a choice. The problem was, making a choice meant betraying someone. If she turned Tyro away, her past would be intact and her Gerudo honor flawless, but she would hurt his feelings and that, unfortunately, bothered her. On the other hand, if she surrendered to the beast, it meant turning her back on everything she had been raised to believe, on the very people who had taken an abandoned daughter into their family with open arms.



The morning was full of watching. It started with Link, ever watchful at his post, keeping look out although nothing came. He had not really expected trouble, not since Koume declared that his death had already been arranged. Somehow, he doubted very much that it would involve a nighttime ambush. Nevertheless, Link insisted on keeping the watch, in part, to avoid the trouble of having to explain why he didn’t want to sleep and in part to keep up an optimistic appearance. Frankly, it did give him some measure of comfort to keep the Topaz near. He had fitted the third Shard with the other two and the stone was beginning to take shape. He used the dull hours of the morning, puzzling over the riddle, trying to determine what it meant regarding the Topaz, its use, and protection against it.

Once everyone was up and about, there was more watching to be done. Link watched as Mika and Tyro fell behind the pack, winding their way toward the territory of Dragon Pride. He watched the way that Tyro watched his sister, quite certain of what was behind that look, but not allowing himself to entirely believe it. And he watched someone that no one else seemed to notice. Sapphia. He watched the way that she watched the other two with a half reproachful, half resentful scowl on her face. Link didn’t know the intimate details of what was going on, but he felt sick to his stomach at the thought of anything getting in the way of the quest. There was too much at stake for personal grievances. Then, of course, he supposed that this wouldn’t be the first time. His own quest against Ganondorf had been practically driven by personal grievances. But then, he had been alone. Things were always more complicated when more people were involved.

Not that Link particularly wanted to go it alone. Certainly, each member of the fellowship had offered a unique contribution to the journey so far. Link was grateful for his friends, new and old. Still, he couldn’t help but feel a certain sense of impending doom as Tyro gazed longingly at Mika. Certainly, he was in no position to forbid anything. Sister though she was, Link had no right to exercise any control over her life. He just hoped that whatever was brewing in Tyro’s mind could wait until after they had settled the minor inconvenience of having to save the world.

Link turned to watch Nebekah next, who marched stoically at his side as the Dragon territory enveloped them. He was grateful to see that she had returned to her old self, rid of the vengeful vendetta that had nearly torn apart her Pride a few days ago. She was determined to avenge the death of her best friend and Alpha, Miral. Link was amused to think back. Only a short while ago, she had been so reluctant to help him. Now, should anything happen to him, he felt certain that Nebekah would be ready to lead the charge against the Twinrova sisters. This was a measure of comfort that allowed him to relax slightly. If conflict tore apart the small group, at least he could count on Nebekah to remember the quest.

“Are we going to run into any trouble?” Sapphia asked a short while after they passed into Dragon territory.

“Don’t worry,” Nebekah told her. She jerked her head in Link’s directly. “Blondie here gets a free pass with the Dragons.”

“Yeah,” Link said, pulling out a small talisman. It had been given to him years ago, back when he was a child first venturing into the larger world. Not only did it mark him as an honorary Delta, but it assured all of them safe passage. And considering all they had been through so far, this was no small favor.

“The Dragons don’t have any frightening rituals we need to be weary of, do they?” Tyro muttered. “No male ritual sacrifice or anything like that?”

Nebekah shook her head. “No, the Dragons don’t have much to do with men, to be honest.”

“How do they maintain their bloodlines?” Tyro persisted.

“I think they use Heart’s Desire,” Nebekah said.

“Heart’s Desire?” Sapphia repeated. “What’s that?”

“It’s an herb,” Nebekah explained. “Small and red. It sort of looks like an apple or a mango. Some people think it’s a bit heart-shaped, actually.”

“What does it do?” Tyro continued.

“It has a fascinating hallucinogenic effect.”

“Hallucinogenic.”

“That means it makes you see things,” Link told him snidely.

Tyro rolled his eyes. “Thank you very much, Hero.” He turned back to Nebekah. “What does it make you see?”

“Well, from what I understand,” Nebekah muttered, “it makes you see the person that’s your ‘heart’s desire.’”

“So that’s why they call it Heart’s Desire?” Sapphia deadpanned.

“I don’t understand,” Tyro grumbled.

“The Dragon women take raiding parties to the villages of Hyrule at night. They slip the herb into a man’s drink. After it gets into his system, he starts to hallucinate.” Nebekah wrinkled her nose. “Then a Gerudo warrior visits the man and instead of seeing a Gerudo, he thinks that she’s the woman he desires.”

Tyro blinked. “Oh. I get it. So the man thinks the Gerudo is someone he knows and cares about.”

“Exactly,” Nebekah said.

“So he sleeps with her,” he concluded, “and then she goes back to the Gerudo Valley and he’s never the wiser.”

“Yeah. And she produces a daughter.”

“Seems like a flimsy way to assure the continuation of one’s bloodline,” Sapphia said.

“Well, Heart’s Desire also increases fertility,” Nebekah supplied.

Sapphia folded her arms. “What happens if a woman eats the herb? Does she hallucinate too?”

“I don’t think it works the same way on women, but I’m not sure.” Nebekah shrugged. “I’ve never used it.”

“That’s good to know, Nebekah,” Link murmured.

Nebekah laughed heartily. It was a pleasant sound. “What I’d like to know, blondie, is which of your find lady friends you’d see while on Heart’s Desire,” she teased.

“Let’s not find out,” Link said quickly.

“Lady friends?” Mika asked suddenly, eyeing Link suspiciously.

“Blondie here is quite popular with the female population of Hyrule,” Nebekah said. “His newly legendary exploits include quite a few female helpers.”

“It’s not like she’s making it sound,” Link told Mika. “I just ended up having to rescue the Sages. And most of them were women.”

“Including Nabooru,” Nebekah said.

“I’ve heard a lot about Alpha Nabooru,” Sapphia said lazily, examining their surroundings.

“Me too,” Mika admitted. “My mother has spoken of her quite often. I think they once knew each other.”

“It’s likely,” Nebekah said. “Nabooru is the least sedentary of any Gerudo Alpha. She gets around. Does her own dirty work.”

“Is it true that she’s the greatest thief in the world?” Sapphia asked.

Link chuckled. “Oh yes. She’s great.”

“You shouldn’t expect anything less from the Dragon Alpha,” Nebekah sighed.

Tyro glanced over at her. “And why is that?”

“The Dragons are the finest thieves in the realm,” Nebekah replied. “Really, it’s their entire way of life. Trainees and novices learn nothing but larceny. The initiation ritual consists of a heist. All the riches of the Dragon treasury were stolen from lands as far away as Calatia and Holodrum.”

“Sounds charming,” Tyro grumbled.

“They’re really not so bad,” Link said. “They have a code of honor. They never steal from someone who can’t afford to lose. Nabooru explained it all to me. They’re really quite decent about it.”

“Do you know her very well?” Mika asked.

“Yeah, we go back,” Link confessed. “I’ve kind of lost touch with her though. We haven’t spoken in awhile.”

Nebekah stared straight ahead. “What’s awhile?” she murmured.

Link scowled, flushing a little bit. “A year,” he admitted. “Since the downfall of Dragmire.”

“That may have been a bit too long,” she told him.

“I know it’s a little excessive, but things did get a little crazy and I just couldn’t get around to –”

“That’s not what I mean,” she interrupted.

“What then?”

She pointed straight ahead. “Look.”

Following her gaze, Link turned to find the great façade of the Dragon fortress looming up ahead. Besides the customary honor guards, flanking either side of the entrance, he noticed a purple carriage with gold accents sitting out front, four white horses scratching at the ground and snorting haughtily into the air. Hoisted from a golden rod coming out of the top of the carriage was a white flag, gold threads neatly forming the shape of the Triforce.

“What is it?” Mika whispered.

“It’s a carriage,” Tyro told her.

“A royal carriage,” Link said.

Nebekah bit her lips together. “What would a royal carriage be doing at the fortress of the Dragon Pride?”

Link shook his head. “I don’t know.”

“Do you think there’s trouble?”

Again, he shook his head. “There’s no way to know. But whatever it is, it’s serious business.”

“Why do you say that?” Sapphia asked.

“I’ve seen that carriage before,” he explained. “And it belongs to Princess Zelda.”



Koume sat on the floor of the ice palace. She had conjured up a small mirror of ice in which she now sat admiring her reflection. Or rather, detesting it. After collecting massive amounts of Jaguar blood, she and Kotake had managed to restore a great deal of their power, but no amount of power could undo the damage of age and time. True, she could assume any youthful form she pleased, but it could not be her own. Try though she might to restore her own good looks, all Koume had managed to do so far was to make her wrinkles horizontal instead of vertical.

Despite this minor annoyance, Kotake had been in good spirits the last couple of days, humming maniacally as she went to and from the ice palace, making various arrangements that Koume herself could only guess at. Koume herself was still being haunted by her brief encounter with the Hero of Time while she had assumed the guise of the Jaguar Gamma. It felt like such a waste. She had been so close to him. A simple flick of a knife and he could have been gone. But no. Kotake insisted. The Hero had to die a painless death at the hands of a woman with child by an Alpha’s son. Somehow, this ridiculous combination of ridiculous circumstances was supposed to restore Ganondorf.

If nothing else, Koume did long to see him again. She and Kotake had enjoyed such privilege during his all too brief reign. All the years of planning and manipulating had finally paid off. The sisters had become the ultimate rules of the Gerudo Valley and, had the Hero not dispatched them, with the help of the Kodiak, they would have restored the Gerudo to the greatness the nation had once known. This last loss bothered Koume more, she knew, than it bothered Kotake. Kotake’s lament was for the great power and authority they had sacrificed. It was Koume who mourned the loss of Gerudo unity. She desperately missed the old days, back when the five Prides and the Shards of the Topaz had been one.

She sensed Kotake long before she saw her. Given their new stockpile of potent Gerudo blood, the sisters no longer needed to travel by their wretched, decaying brooms. Those were merely for show. Now, Kotake was able to whisk in and out of the ice palace using simple parlor tricks, old Hylian magic that all citizens of Hyrule once knew. Indeed, it was only another instant before Kotake appeared, heralded by swirls of emerald flames that immediately vanished without a trace of smoke.

“You’re back,” Koume murmured, allowing her ice mirror to slowly dissolve back into the floor of the palace.

“I can see you’re overjoyed,” Kotake deadpanned. She had not squandered much of her magic on trying to restore her youth and beauty. Instead, she had dedicated ample amounts of the Jaguar blood to create an assortment of powerful jewels and tokens that hid impressive spells. Her entire, ragged body glittered with red and pink stones, most of which, if thrown or dissolved in water or eaten, could cause a variety of things to happen, most of which Koume could only guess at.

“Have you made contact with the vessel?”

“I have.” Kotake crossed the chamber to a pile of barrels that Koume had formed out of ice. They were all filled with deep crimson blood. She held her hand over one of the barrels and a small ball of blood rose up, hovering underneath her palm. Slowly, she squeezed her hand shut. A burst of light erupted from between her fingers. When she opened her palm, a new, red jewel floated before her.

“Well?” Koume asked impatiently, watching as Kotake admired her own handiwork.

“Well what?”

“What’s happening?”

Kotake smiled, never taking her eyes off of the jewel. “I’ve given her instructions.”

“Yes?”

“She knows what she must do.”

“But will she do it?” Koume wrung her hands, feeling the sharp bones of her knuckles. “I know you’ve been worried about her loyalty wavering.”

“She’ll do it,” Kotake said breezily.

“How can you be sure?”

“It is a great honor, we’re bestowing upon her,” Kotake replied. “She shall give rise to the Gerudo nation.”

Inwardly, Koume sighed. Kotake knew just how to play her, knew just what to say to put her at ease. But somehow, even the blissful thought of a unified Gerudo nation was not enough to sway her. “You questioned her constitution before with the Saber Tooth.”

“That was another matter. It involved men. This is different.”

“This will involve men too. Remember the fellowship she’s dealing with right now.”

Kotake waved it off. “Yes, yes.”

Koume folded her arms. “And while we’re on the subject.”

“What subject?”

“The Saber Tooth.”

“What about them?”

“I fear we washed our hands of the situation too quickly.”

“What do you mean?”

“Ari.”

“The man who took over?”

“Yes.”

“He’s of no consequence.”

“He might be,” Koume said.

“Why do you say that?”

“Because he is still alive.”

For a moment, Kotake was silent. Koume could detect a tempest raging behind her sunken in eyes. “Alive,” she repeated finally.

“Yes.”

“The Saber Tooth didn’t have the good sense to do away with him?”

“They spared him.”

“Even after he took over their Pride?”

Koume shrugged. “I suppose, they viewed him as some kind of pawn in our game.”

“Unbelievable.” Kotake shook her head in disgust. “What is wrong with the Saber Tooth?”

“Many things.”

“Yes.”

“But,” Koume continued, “I worry about him. He could still cause trouble yet.”

“Why do you say that?”

She gestured vaguely to the telepathy tile embedded in the far wall. “I’ve been listening.”

“You’ve picked up on his thoughts?”

“Not on purpose,” Koume admitted. “I was trying to contact the vessel, but along the way, I heard a stray thought about the Saber Tooth. When I listened in, I realized it was Ari I was connecting to.”

“I see.”

“He was furious.”

“I wouldn’t doubt it.”

“Kept thinking about revenge.”

“Revenge?”

“Yes.”

Kotake tapped her fingertips to her lips. “Revenge…”

“I think,” Koume said tentatively, “that he intends to seek revenge against the Hero.”

“Why?”

“Think of it, sister. It was because of the Hero that he lost his control over the Saber Tooth. He had the makings of a fine army. Not to mention enough Din Silver to arm them all for a slaughter.”

“And the kid took that away from him.”

“Exactly.”

“Well…” Kotake mused, “I suppose I can see how that might be a problem, but I wouldn’t worry about it too much.”

“Why not?”

“He may want revenge. He may even plan it, but it won’t matter.”

“Again, why not?”

“Because by the time he gets around to executing any plan, the Hero should be dead, Koume. Think of it. Right now, the Hero of Time is deep within the Gerudo Valley. My guess is that Ari is far away, safely nestled in one of the villages. Once our plan unfolds, the Hero will never leave the Valley. Ari will be too late to do anything about him.”

“Well, I suppose so,” Koume conceded.

“Planning ahead, Koume? That’s very unlike you.”

Koume gave her a disgruntled snort. “I’m going a bit stir crazy again. It was so much fun being out among the Gerudo.”

“Your performance as Deidre was admirable,” Kotake said. “But there was a flaw in the plan we hadn’t anticipated on. It would be foolish to fall into the same trap once more.”

“Meaning I can’t go out.”

“Precisely.”

“And what are you going to do?”

“Nothing. There’s nothing at all to be done, Koume. Not until the vessel performs her task. Until then, all we have to do is wait.”

She didn’t say anything, though a thousand retorts were bubbling up in Koume’s chest. Wait. Wait. Wait. She was so tired of waiting. She didn’t much fancy the idea of spending the next few days cooped up in the ice castle with Kotake either. She loved her sister of course. No question about it. Still, being in such close quarters without some kind of project always resulted in disaster for them. That was another reason to long for Ganondorf’s return. At least, with their authority as rulers of the Valley reestablished, they would never want for anything to do. When life crawled by so slowly, boredom was a terrible enemy.



Link led the pack as they hurried through the halls of the Dragon fortress. It was familiar to him, easy to navigate, and filled with familiar faces. These faces did not comfort him, however. Although they did not stop to talk, Link sensed something was very wrong with the Dragon Pride. Whereas the fortress was normally filled with boisterous singing and the clashing of practice swords, things were silent today, silent except for the racing footsteps of Link and his friends as they hurried to Nabooru’s greeting chamber.

“Maybe it’s nothing,” Nebekah supposed at his side. “Maybe it’s just a diplomatic envoy.”

“Maybe,” Link said. But as he caught the tight faces of the Delta warriors around him, his instinct screamed that there was trouble.

“They’re just letting us run through,” Mika muttered. “No questions asked. They’re just standing there.”

“They know Link,” Nebekah told her.

“They don’t know us,” Mika countered.

“We’re with him,” Tyro said. “One of the nice bonuses of hanging around with the Hero of time is that –”

But he stopped short. Just then, Link led them through an arched doorway and they found themselves in Nabooru’s chamber. It was a fairly grand hall, the ceilings rising high into the sky, supported by stone buttresses carved with images of the great Alphas of the past. Dozens of plush carpets, painstakingly made and stolen, lined the floors in a vibrant, mismatched calico of purples and reds and blues. In the very center of the chamber was a small, round table made of stone. Atop the table was Nabooru’s throne, sculpted of gold and glimmering because it stood directly underneath a wide skylight in the ceiling, allowing the noon sun to fill the chamber. The throne, however, was not the only thing glowing inside.

Standing by one of the intricate buttresses was Zelda. In the year since Ganondorf fell, she had only grown more lovely, a fact that had certainly not escaped her countless suitors from kingdoms far and wide. Nor could it escape the fellowship as they caught sight of her. She was leaning against the wall, twirling her fingers around a lock of gold hair. It had been curled, pulled back and on top of her head with a diadem, all except for a few stray wisps which were coiled into tight springs that framed her heart shaped face like a lion’s mane. Her slender body was draped in a beautiful silk robe, deep violet, tied loosely around her waist with a gold cord.

When they entered the room, Zelda looked up, her blue eyes flashing in the sunlight. She caught sight of Link and smiled. Despite all of her beauty, somehow that smile still reminded Link of the child he had once met all those years ago. “Link!” she cried.

“Princess Zelda!” he called, stepping forward into the chamber.

“That’s Princess Zelda?” Tyro whispered in back of the pack.

“Who’s Princess Zelda?” Mika murmured.

In the middle of the room, Link bowed to the princess, but she immediately pulled him up, giving him a light hug that left her mild perfume on his arms. “I didn’t expect to see you here,” she said.

“I could say the same,” he told her.

“Whatever are you doing here?”

“Well…it’s a long story,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck. “My friends and I came here to…oh! Princess Zelda, these are my friends.” He gestured to the others. “That’s Nebekah.”

“Daughter of Elena?” Zelda asked. “First Beta of the Jaguar Pride?”

Nebekah blinked in surprise. “How did you know?”

Zelda smiled slightly. “As part of my duty as heir to the kingdom, I’ve been tasked to memorize the family trees and histories of all the Hylian tribes, Prides, and colonies.”

“That’s some memory,” Sapphia muttered.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” Nebekah said, crossing her wrists before her chest and bowing.

“Beside her is Sapphia,” Link continued. “First Beta of the Kodiak Pride.”

Behind Zelda’s polite smile, there was some hesitation. “I’m afraid I’m not up to date on the Kodiak lines. Please excuse me.”

Sapphia laughed. “Hardly worth a fuss.”

Tyro stepped forward, bowing grandly to Zelda. “My name is Tyro,” he said.

“Malon’s cousin,” Link added.

“Really?” The nervousness faded from Zelda’s smile. “I simply adore Malon. I had no idea she had a cousin. It’s nice to meet you.”

“It’s a great, great, great pleasure to –” But Tyro was cut off when Mika elbowed him in the ribs.

Politely, Zelda covered her mouth with her hand, stifling a small laugh. “And you are?” she asked.

“Mika,” she replied. “Daughter of…Medea.”

Nervously, Link wrung his hands. “She’s kinda…my sister.”

Zelda blinked. “Your sister?”

“It’s a long story. I’d tell it to you, but frankly, I don’t even know half of it myself.”

She seemed to understand. “Well, whatever are you all doing here?”

“Oh, we came to speak with Nabooru,” Link said.

“Then…you haven’t heard?”

Nebekah furrowed her brow. “Heard what?”

“There’s been a bit of a situation, I’m afraid.”

Sapphia folded her arms. “What sort of situation?”

“Nabooru has been arrested by the villagers of Kakariko,” Zelda said gravely.

Link coughed in surprise. “What!?”

“They can’t do that!” Nebekah cried.

“I’m afraid,” Zelda muttered, “that they have.”

“On what charges?” Tyro asked.

“Theft.” Zelda walked over to the group, passing Link. “Nabooru has been accused of stealing their statue of Din.”

“A statue of Din?” Nebekah repeated. “That isn’t possible. It’s against Gerudo custom to violate an image of the goddess.”

“Forget about that,” Link said. “I’ve seen the statue. It’s enormous, nearly as tall as Nabooru. There’s no what she could have done it.”

“And there’s no way she would get caught, even if she had done it,” Zelda said. “I’m aware of that.”

“So what happened?”

“Mayor Tertias caught her at the scene of the crime. Nabooru’s a well known thief, so she became the suspect. She’s already been tried and convicted.”

Mika’s jaw dropped. “Convicted? What does that mean?”

“That means they intend to stone her at sunrise tomorrow morning,” Zelda explained.

“Zelda,” Link murmured, “You’re a princess. Can’t you stop it?”

She shook her head sadly. “I wish I could, but I don’t have the authority to interfere with the legalities of the villages.”

Link threw his hands up in the air. “Well, that’s just great.”

“I hate to say this, Link,” Sapphia muttered, “but I feel the need to point out that this is probably another distraction. Twinrova is probably trying to delay you some more.”

“Twinrova?” Zelda said, looking back and forth between Link and Sapphia.

“Probably,” Link said, “but it’s going to work.”

Sapphia gave him a disapproving scowl. “You’re seriously going to go after Nabooru? You’ll take the bait?”

“Yes,” Link answered. She looked like she was about to object, so he continued. “I have to. Besides, Nabooru’s the Alpha. She’s the only one with access to her Shard. We have to go after her.”

“You don’t know that for sure,” she countered.

“No,” he admitted, “but I know Nabooru pretty well. She doesn’t strike me as the type of person who would just leave the Shard out of her possession. I’ll bet she carries it with her.”

“There’s no way to know for sure.”

“So what are you suggesting, Sapphia?”

“I suggest we split up,” Sapphia said. “Half of us go investigate Nabooru’s situation, the other half will remain here and look for the Shard.”

He didn’t like the idea of splitting up, but Link had to confess that there was a certain amount of sense in it. “All right,” he said quietly. “I’ll go to Kakariko and save Nabooru.”

“I’m going with you, blondie,” Nebekah said immediately.

“Fine. The rest of you will stay here and see if you can find out anything,” Link declared.

Mika turned to her brother. “Link, how are you going to get to Kakariko and investigate? You don’t have long. They’re stoning her tomorrow morning.”

Link looked at Zelda. “I don’t suppose I could talk you into giving me and Nebekah a lift via Farore’s Wind? I’m out of practice.”

Zelda pursed her lips. “I can do it,” she replied. “But will someone please explain to me what’s going on?”

With a grand bow, Tyro stepped forward again. “I would be happy to explain it to you, Princess.”

“Good.” Zelda turned to face Link and Nebekah. Without instruction, Link moved to stand beside her. Zelda rubbed her hands together and a light green crackle, like static electricity formed. She whispered several words in the ancient language and the beam of light flew at the two of them. Link felt himself dissolve, becoming one with the matter of the universe. He didn’t particularly like the sensation. It felt like ants crawling across his skin, but he knew once it was over, he would be in Kakariko and the real work would begin.



After Link and Nebekah vanished, Sapphia seemed to take command. She instructed Mika to go to the east side of the compound while she explored the west side. Mika was reluctant to leave Tyro alone with Zelda. She didn’t like the way he was looking at her, but she left nevertheless. Behind her, she could hear Tyro reciting their antics thus far, with great gusto. Was she jealous? No, Mika allowed herself to feel anything to petty. There was no way she was jealous. How could she be jealous of something like that? It was silly. All the same, she found her pace quicken as she ran away from the sound of Tyro’s voice.

The layout of the Dragon stronghold was very much unlike the familiar corridors of the Orca compound. Everything here was so straight, at sharp angles and very symmetrical. What’s more, the hallways felt abandoned. She supposed that was only logical. After all, the Dragon Alpha was missing. The warriors probably had a lot on their minds. She was certain that the Beta and the other higher ranking soldiers were probably meeting in secret somewhere, discussing rescue ploys and the like. Perhaps they were even already on their way.

Without meaning to, Mika found herself in a long block of stalls. It was a bit like the Jaguar dungeon, only instead of cells filled with prisoners, there were dozens of horses, munching happily on grain, snorting and flicking their tails. There was a single attendant sitting by the door, cleaning horse hair out of a brush, but she didn’t pay Mika much heed, other than offering her a curt nod of welcome. Evidently, it was normal for strangers to wander through the fortress. Mika didn’t understand this one bit, but she supposed it was to her advantage. Then again, she supposed, perhaps they thought she was a part of the royal envoy.

As she stared down the long row of stalls, she spotted the horses that had been pulling the royal carriage. They were being gently led to a drinking trough by a woman that Mika immediately knew was not a Gerudo. She was the tallest woman Mika had ever seen, statuesque in a muscular sort of way. She had short white hair, pulled tightly back in a bun at the base of her neck. Her eyes were scarlet, positively piercing everything she happened to look at. And at that particular moment, she happened to look at Mika.

“Hello,” she said in a deep, husky voice.

“Hello,” Mika replied uncertainly. There was something about her voice that was familiar, but Mika couldn’t place it.

“Is there something I can help you with?” the woman asked.

“No,” Mika answered.

The woman planted a hand on her hip, tilting her head to one side to examine Mika. “What’s the matter? Never seen a Sheikah before?”

“No,” Mika said, but she had the oddest feeling that wasn’t entirely true. “Never.”

“Well,” the woman chuckled, “you needn’t be so shy. We don’t bite. Often, anyways. My name is Impa.”

And something went through Mika then, like an invisible shockwave. Although her eyes widened, she was no longer looking at the grand royal horses or the Sheikah woman. Her mind’s eye saw something different entirely. There was smoke. It was dark out, very, very late, but there were no stars and no trace of moonlight, as though the moon were hiding. The thick air smelled of charred wood and hair and something else that was unpleasant and organic. In the distance, there was a great deal of wailing and screaming, voices calling out phantom names only to have their cries greeted with an unnatural silence.

This had once been a village. A thriving center of commerce and activity. Kasuto had been its name. The busiest center of Hylian activity in the kingdom. But it was gone now. All that remained were a smoldering heap of ashes and the terrible memories. And a little girl. A small, blond girl trembling in the cold, hugging the side of a portly man who patted her hair, muttering, “I’m sure you’re mother is all right, Mika. She’ll be fine. Your brother too.”

“Where are they?” the little girl demanded.

“I don’t know. They took a wrong turn somewhere, but they’ll turn up,” he promised. “I’m sure of it.”

She clutched her wrist, her fingertips brushing over the smooth, blue lines that rested beneath her skin. Her mother had explained everything to her, about how these lines would help her find her brother again. Touching them made her feel safe. “Okay,” she said.

But all they did was continue to wait and wait. Any second now, she was certain she would see her mother come racing over the hill, clutching the baby and falling to her knees to pull the girl into her arms and promise that everything would be all right. But the seconds ticked by and no one came. The haunted echoes of the village continued, loved ones crying out for one another, families reuniting, in this world or the next. The last vestiges of the town’s infrastructure fell, crackling in the night and serving as a reminder of all that had been lost.

Slowly, the sky turned pink. The portly man kept his hand on the girl’s shoulder as she drifted in and out of a gentle doze, waiting for her mother to come. But it was not her mother who came over the hill. It was a tall Sheikah woman in loose robes, carrying a scroll and a quill pen. “My name is Impa,” she said. “I serve the royal family and I need to ask all the survivors a few questions.”

“Go ahead.”

“Name?” she asked the man.

“Pietro Falco,” he said.

She unfurled the scroll and wrote, “Pietro Falco. Who’s with you?”

“My wife,” he gestured to the stout woman behind him. “Our four children,” he indicated his daughter and three sons.

The Sheikah looked down at the little girl. “And her?”

“The daughter of my tenant. I’m a landlord…” he scowled. “Well, I was a landlord.”

“Name?”

“Mika,” he said.

“And her parents?”

“Her father’s dead,” he said flatly. “Killed by Gerudo on the way back from the Oracle in Calatia. The mother’s name is Natalya.”

Sharply, the woman’s eyebrows rose. “Natalya Evenn?”

“The same.”

“Natalya had a son, where is he?”

Pietro frowned. “I’m afraid I don’t know. We’ve been waiting for her, but she hasn’t come with the tyke.”

The little girl looked up at the strange woman. “Where’s my momma? Have you seen her?”

Rather than answer, the woman turned to the landlord. “I’ll take her from here. Thank you.”

“Now wait a second,” Pietro said, tightening his grip on the girl’s shoulder. “I’m not just going to let her –”

“I assure you,” the woman cut in, “she will be taken care of. There’s nothing to worry about.”

He seemed reluctant, but Pietro acquiesced. The woman took the child’s hand in hers and began to lead her away from the hill. “Are you going to take me to my momma?” she asked.

“Your mother is dead,” she replied matter-of-factly.

Hot tears began to well up in the little girl’s eyes. As they did, it seemed as though the world swirled and slowly dissolved. Mika found herself staring at the bemused expression on Impa’s face as she absently patted one of the royal stallions. “Impa,” Mika said softly, her throat dry.

“That’s right,” Impa laughed. “That’s my name.”

“Right.”

“Do you have a name?” Impa asked.

“I don’t know,” Mika replied numbly as she turned around. Doubtlessly, Impa was staring after her, half amused and half bewildered. It was nothing compared to what Mika was feeling right now though. What had she seen? Had it been a vision? There was one time, during her warrior training, when she had spent several days in a chamber, filled with incense and perfumes, waiting to have a vision. One had come eventually, but it had been different, murkier somehow. What she had just experienced had to have been something deeper, something realer. Was she remembering something that she had long ago banished from her mind?



Link and Nebekah arrived safely to Kakariko, intact and only slightly tingly. Admittedly, they scared quite a few passersby, but Link’s face was so well known that the sight of him instantly put everyone at ease. This was both a blessing and a curse, because while it meant he wasn’t attacked with weapons, he was immediately assailed by dozens of eyes, curious to see what he was doing there.

Nebekah noticed it too. “Maybe I should head to the scene of the crime alone,” she muttered.

“Yeah,” he replied.

“No one will hassle me.”

“Probably not.”

“You head to the jail,” she told him. “Go talk to Nabooru, see if you can figure out what’s going on.”

“All right,” Link agreed.

“Where’s the statue?”

“Town square. About half of a mile south of here. There’s a big wishing pond nearby, you can’t miss it.”

“I’ll meet you there.”

“Agreed.”

And with that, the two of them parted ways. Zelda had neatly set them down about a block away from the jail. Her aim with this particular spell had always been better than Link’s. With a slight smile, he headed down the road, fully aware of everyone’s eyes on him. Kakariko was no different from New Kasuto. The people were always staring. What made it worse was that Link knew fewer people here. Kakariko had a very diverse population, where Humans and Hylians and every other kind of traveler seemed to settle. The community was isolated from the rest of Hyrule both because of its uncomfortable proximity to the Gerudo Valley and the long, uncultivated stretches of field surrounding it on the other three sides.

Link had been to Kakariko, of course, but the majority of his visits had been on his way back and forth from the more familiar parts of Hyrule. And, he reflected, most of his visits had taken place during his quest to defeat Ganondorf. He had never really been afforded much of a chance to explore the village, not in the way that he knew New Kasuto which was much closer to North Castle and the Zora’s Domain. Still, he knew enough to get by. He had passed the jail building on several occasions and knew exactly where to go. He had never been inside, however.

Instantly, the first thing to hit Link as he pressed the door to the jail building open was the horrid smell of the place. It reeked of unwashed bodies and waste. Quickly, he clapped a hand over his nose and mouth, stifling a weak cough. His stomach performed several impressive acrobatic feats before he managed to steady himself again. He had smelled much worse, he just hadn’t been expecting it from a jail in a town as civilized as Kakariko.

The building was small, rectangular shaped. Near the door were a desk and a shaded window with bars on it. The far side of the room consisted of an enormous, single cell with a cot, chamber pot, and wash basin. On the near side of the bars lining the cell sat a man that Link recognized as Tertias, the newly elected mayor of Kakariko, flanked by a guard. He was a pleasant looking fellow with a round pot belly and a gleaming bald spot, very much contrary to his relative youth. By contrast, beside him stood a lean and very sour looking Gerudo woman who Link recognized as Liandra, the Dragon Beta. He followed her gaze to find the third occupant of the jail.

Behind the bars sat Nabooru, every bit as magnificent as Link remembered. Even imprisoned, she carried herself with the poise and grace of an unbroken mare. She rested now, on the cell cot, her legs curled under her in a meditative position, her eyes closed. There was a thin cotton blanket draped around her shoulders, masking her extraordinary physique and her brilliantly decorated clothing Link knew all too well.

Tertias was the first to notice Link. He turned around at the sound of the door opening and grinned, stepping forward and holding out a meaty hand. The guard followed him silently. “Link!” he cried. “Fancy meeting you here!”

“Hello, Tertias,” Link said, clasping his wrist and giving it a shake. “Or should I say Mayor?”

“My name is Tertias. And never forget it. But what in the name of Nayru are you doing here? Last I heard, you were happily enjoying your retirement.”

“I came to speak with Nabooru, actually,” Link said.

At once, Tertias’ bright smile faded. “Oh,” he mumbled. “Link, I hope you realize that I gave her a trial. It was fair and equitable. But given Nabooru’s history…I mean…the woman once stole the Ring of Light from the Risan heir apparent. It was just too much…and there were no other suspects really. And we did find her standing right at the scene of the crime…No one is above the law, not even Sages…”

“I’d just like to talk to her,” Link said. “If you don’t mind.”

“Well, I suppose that’s up to her, you know…”

“I’ll speak with him.”

Link and Tertias looked around. Nabooru had opened her eyes and was gazing intently at them from behind the bars. Liandra seemed a bit surprised. “Alpha?” she asked.

Nabooru turned to Tertias. “Mayor, I am wondering, would you be willing to let me speak with Link in private?”

Tertias looked flustered. “Well, this is highly irregular.”

“I am certain you can trust me under the watch of the Hero of Time,” she said softly.

“Oh…very well, I suppose,” Tertias muttered. “But I’ll be right outside the door.”

“Thank you very much,” Nabooru said. Tertias grunted in reply and ambled out the door, the guard following after him without a single complaint. Nabooru turned to Liandra. “You too, please. I wish to speak with Link alone.”

“But Alpha!” Liandra cried.

“Please, Liandra.”

Liandra looked torn. For a full minute, she shifted her weight back and forth, looking between them with a sour expression. “Very well.”

“Thank you.”

“But I don’t like it.” And with that, Liandra left, slamming the door behind her.

Link walked over to the cell in three quick strides. “Nabooru! What’s going on here?”

“It appears that I am awaiting my execution,” she told Link gently, pulling the blanket tighter around her shoulders.

“Did you do it?”

“What?”

“Did you steal the statue of Din?”

Nabooru laughed. “It was impressive, wasn’t it? It could genuinely be argued that that is the most impressive theft in the history of Hyrule.”

“But did you do it?”

She scowled. “No.”

“That’s what I thought,” Link muttered with a nod. “Okay, listen, my friends and I are going to get you out of here, so just sit tight.”

“Are you going to make a liar out of me?” she asked.

“What do you mean?”

“I already told the mayor that you could be trusted not to help me escape.”

“That wasn’t what I had in mind. I’m going to find out who did it, who stole the statue, and clear your name.”

“Link, you can’t do that.”

“What?”

“Please, don’t. Don’t find out who really did it.”

“Nabooru,” he said, trying to remain patient, “They’re going to kill you unless I do something.”

“Just let it be.”

“Are you out of your mind?”

“Link, if you do this, I will never forgive,” she told him with no amount of uncertainty.

He stared at her. Her expression was genuine, completely serious. From her eyes, he detected a note of urgency that he didn’t understand. “Nabooru, why are you doing this? Why are you taking the fall?”

“I’m not taking a fall,” she insisted.

“Then what is this about?”

She sighed heavily. “That theft is the most impressive piece of work I have ever seen. To be perfectly honest, I don’t even know how they did it. That statue is taller than you and probably weighs a ton. Literally.”

“So?”

“So, they’re blaming me. They think that I did it.”

“Right. So?”

“It’s a matter of reputation,” she explained. “The greatest theft in the world must be carried out by the greatest thief in the world.”

“Wait, wait, wait,” Link held up his hands, “let me see if I understand this. You’re willing to die to protect yourself from losing your reputation as the world’s greatest thief?”

“Exactly.”

He stared at her blankly. “Have you lost your mind?”

“Link, promise me that you won’t interfere.”

“I’m afraid I can’t do that,” he told her.

“Ever the Hero, aren’t you?”

“Maybe a little bit.”

“Well, it doesn’t matter. My execution is at sunrise tomorrow. You won’t be able to find the real thief by then.”

“Don’t underestimate me.”

“I make that mistake a lot, don’t I?”

He couldn’t think of much of an answer to that. His blood was boiling a bit, to be honest. How could Nabooru, a Sage and savior of Hyrule, suddenly turn so foolish? He would never have taken her for the kind of woman who cared so much about her own petty reputation. Didn’t she have more things to be proud of than her ability to steal things? Certainly, in his opinion, saving Hyrule was much more impressive. But perhaps that was the problem. Was becoming a Sage as traumatic as becoming a Hero? He stared at her, wondering why she really wanted to die.



“Right in here. You’ll have to pardon the mess, we don’t get visitors often.” And Mika found herself staring into a cramped little room. Kitsch littered the floor, various items of precious metal, probably stolen, rolled up carpets, boxes of jewelry, assorted weapons, and bottles of perfumes. She supposed that if the Dragon Pride didn’t get visitors often, it made sense that they used guest quarters to store their stolen booty. And there was an impressive display. There was so much on the bed she couldn’t even see the covers!

It turned out that Princess Zelda had more pull with the Dragon Pride. As far as Mika could tell, the Delta warriors respected and obeyed her like an Alpha, bringing her food and drink on demand. Truth be told, however, from the little Mika had seen of Zelda, demand seemed like the wrong word. The Princess was fairly soft spoken and polite. Immediately, her friendship with Link seemed to extend to his friends. Zelda took it upon herself to see after the rites of hospitality in Nabooru’s unfortunate absence. She deftly arranged for all the accommodations Mika, Sapphia, and Tyro could require, including this cozy little room that Mika was being shown by a pleasant Thin Blood named Kallista.

“Oh, it’s a mess,” Kallista murmured, chewing on her thumb as she examined the room.

“If there’s a bed, it’s good enough for me,” Mika assured her.

She wasn’t tired. Not really. But after her strange encounter in the stables, the idea of lying down suddenly appealed to Mika a great deal. If she could only take a few moments to center herself, then perhaps she could make sense of it all. She was certain it was a memory now. She had been that little girl and Impa had been the Sheikah. Meeting Impa had, perhaps, triggered it somehow. Mika hoped that perhaps she could recall more, delve deeper into her lost history, and maybe even discover Link hiding somewhere in there. Or better yet, her mother.

“Do you need anything else?” Kallista asked politely, folding her hands behind her back.

Mika shook her head. “No, I don’t think so.”

“Very well. If you think of anything, just ask. Anyone who travels under Zelda’s colors is a friend.”

“Thank you.”

“Pleasant rest.” Kallista crossed her wrists and bowed and then she was gone, leaving the door open.

Carefully, Mika began to pick her way over the treasure on the floor. Her foot brushed against a vase, filled with gold coins, imprinted with the image of some foreign monarch of a land Mika had never even heard of. They sprinkled to the ground, but made no noise because they landed on a pile of rich silks. Frankly, all these spoils seemed like a bit of a waste to Mika, but she could understand how one might find them impressive. She shook her head. The Dragon were still Gerudo, different though their values were. If her bizarre journey had taught her nothing else, it was that. The Gerudo nation was complicated.

She began clearing debris off of the bed, revealing a plum colored blanket beneath. As the gold and jewels scraped against the thick threads of the cover, it emitted a geyser of dust and a puff of scent. Mika leaned forward, sniffing the strange perfume emerging from the fabric. She couldn’t identify the smell, nor the explanation of how a blanket could do such a thing, but there was a pang of familiarity to it. Slowly, Mika leaned forward. She planted her knees on the bed and pressed her face down into the covers, taking a deep breath and absorbing as much of the aroma as she could. Another memory began to stir.

Again, she was a child, trembling and pale. She lay on the bedspread, pressing her face into it, the fabric wet with salt tears. They were talking about her, a woman called Nabooru and a stranger. Did they think she couldn’t hear? As she lay on that bed, trembling and too weak to cry, she listened to their voices, just beyond sight of the doorway, whispering in the halls.

“I don’t know, Nabooru,” the newcomer said.

“It’s a personal favor,” Nabooru’s voice hissed. “Have I ever asked anything of you before?”

“I just don’t like the sound of it.”

“You must do this for me, Medea.”

“The Orca won’t like it. Not one bit.”

“Why not? You’ve taken in abandoned children before.”

“This is different. This puts us in affiliation with you.”

“No one needs to know, Medea. You can just say that you found her.”

“Lie?”

“Exactly.”

“I can’t do that.”

“Why not?”

“Because I’ve been declared heir. I’m going to be the next Alpha.”

“And I’m very glad for you,” Nabooru said. “But I don’t see how this changes anything.”

“I can’t lie and I can’t connect our Prides just like that.”

“And doing me a favor connects the Prides?”

“Yes.”

“Very well. How about if I pay you for services rendered?”

“What do you mean?”

“You do me the favor of taking in the girl,” Nabooru explained, “and I’ll give you something for it. Then we’ll be even.”

“Perhaps…”

“Come on, Medea. Please?”

“Well, I suppose it could work.”

“Name your price.”

Medea sighed. “All I ask for is a promise.”

“What’s that?”

“There’s talk of trouble brewing up with the Kodiak. Talk of civil war and bloodshed.”

“I know.”

“I ask you to promise me never to lead your army against my Pride. That’s all I want.”

Nabooru laughed softly. “You will make a fine Alpha, Medea.”

“Thank you.” She paused. “Are we agreed?”

“Agreed. In exchange for this favor, I will not fight against your people, Medea.”

“Thank you.”

They could be heard clasping hands. “Thank you for doing this, Medea.”

“Tell me one thing though.”

“What is it?”

“Is anyone ever going to come after her? Seeking her, I mean.”

“Well,” Nabooru said, “her parents are dead. She has a brother though, being kept safe by others. I cannot say for certain whether or not he will come looking for her some day.”

“This worries me.”

“Don’t count on it,” Nabooru muttered. “He’ll probably never even know she exists. No, she is your daughter now, yours to raise and to love as your own. She will become a great Gerudo, under your care.”

“What’s her name?”

“Her name is Mika.”

“What a funny name,” Medea scoffed.

“Don’t go changing it,” Nabooru warned her. “It’s the only one she’s even known.”

“How much does she remember?”

“All of it, I imagine.”

“She’ll never accept me as her mother. Not while she remembers her own. And I fear she’ll never belong.”

“Give it time,” Nabooru urged.

Medea could be heard clearing her throat. “Yes, of course.”

“Now is the time to protect children,” Nabooru sighed. “With all the talk of war with the Kodiak, we must protect the weak and defenseless.” She paused. “I’ve already sent my daughter away to live with the Saber Tooth.”

“I can’t imagine how painful it must be,” Medea whispered. “To give up your child who you love.”

“We do what we must do for our daughters. That is what makes an Alpha a mother to the entire Pride.”

“Then I shall do the same for Mika.”

Mika sat up, blinking the fog away from her eyes. She looked out into the hallway, but it was abandoned, no trace of the two women who had once stood there, seventeen years ago, discussing her future. Another new memory to sort through, adding questions rather than answering them. If she had been able to remember her mother back then, why could she not remember her now? And how was she supposed to feel, knowing that she was sold to Medea in exchange for a promise of peace? For a moment, she felt her pride bruised, but no. However reluctant Medea had been back then, she knew that her adoptive mother loved her. Alcia too.

Still, a tight knot formed in her throat. She loved Medea. Which means she must have given up on her mother, a mother she had loved dearly before. And now, she was so far gone that she couldn’t even remember the woman’s face. Why had this never bothered her before, she wondered. And why was it bothering her so much right now? Everything was different now, and for Mika, who had always resisted change, it was just too much.



The sunset and brushed the sky with a light pink by the time that Link met up with Nebekah near the site of the former statue of Din. She was standing beside the pedestal, her arms folded defensively across her chest. “Trouble?” Link asked as he approached.

“You’d think being a Gerudo, I’d be used to all the glaring from the villagers,” she muttered.

“What happened to ‘we live in peace with the village?’”

“The Jaguar live in peace with the village,” Nebekah told him. “But these people all seem to think I’m a Dragon.”

“A reasonable assumption,” Link muttered. “Given the fact that they’re about to execute the Dragon Alpha and all.”

“So no luck getting Tertias to reverse sentencing?”

“No,” Link sighed. “No one is above the law in Kakariko,” he quoted. “Not even a Sage”

Nebekah frowned. “Did she do it?”

“Of course not.”

“I figured.”

“But there’s a bit of a hitch.”

“What?”

“She’s not trying to defend herself.”

“She’s not?”

“She’s ready to die for a heist she didn’t commit.”

“Did she say why?”

“Defending her title as the world’s greatest thief.”

“That’s stupid!”

Link nodded. “I know.” He ran a hand through his hair. “Tell me something good. Have you learned anything?”

“Well, I can tell you this much. Whoever pulled off the heist is absolutely brilliant.”

“Have you figured out how they did it?” he asked.

“I think so,” Nebekah said, with a nod.

“Show me.”

She walked over to the empty pedestal, gesturing vaguely. “The statue was on the pedestal, attached. Whoever did this started by detaching it.”

“How?”

“Look closely.” She pointed to the pedestal. Directly in the middle, doubtlessly where the great statue had once stood, there was a misshapen discoloration, indented into the stone.

“Acid?” he wondered.

She nodded. “That would be my guess.”

“Okay, so the statue was detached.”

“Some kind of acid that eats away at stone, but not metal. I’ve heard of such things. They probably wouldn’t be difficult to come by.”

“All right.”

“Now, the statue was solid gold. Which means that it would be really, really heavy.”

“That makes sense.”

“Unless,” Nebekah continued.

Link scrunched up his face. “Unless?”

“Have you ever taken a bath, Link?”

He made a rather indignant squawk. “I know I’m a little ripe, but we’ve been on a quest! I haven’t had time to –”

“In general, Link. In general.”

“Oh…” His cheeks flushed bright pink. “Yeah. Sure.”

“When you’re in the water, you’re lighter.”

“Yeah…”

“Which means the thief’s next move would have been to lighten up the load by putting it in water.” Nebekah walked down to the bank of the wishing pond. “Covering up his tracks in the meanwhile.”

“So he put it in the pond?”

“Yeah.”

Link shook his head. “No, it’s still gold. It wouldn’t float.”

“It wouldn’t float,” she agreed, “but it would certainly be easier to lug. Say, along the bottom.” She gestured for him to come closer. “Take a look.”

He approached the pond and carefully leaned over, looking into the murky depths. It took him a moment, squinting and moving his head from side to side, but before long, he spotted a shallow trench, running along the pond, directly in a path that someone might take to drag the statute from the pedestal to the bank beyond. “Ah ha!” he cried triumphantly.

“Whoever did it dragged the statue along the bottom and up onto the other side. He or she then pulled it into the forest, making sure to cover up the trench on the opposite bank.”

“There’s no way anyone could drag that thing through the forest without making a mess.”

“Exactly,” Nebekah said. “Broken twigs, torn leaves. Even if he or she took the time to fill in the trench, there’s no way to hide that kind of damage.”

“Unless no one bothers to look.”

“They find Nabooru at the scene of the crime.”

“And immediately assume she was responsible.”

Nebekah nodded. “So they arrested her without bothering to examine the scene of the crime.”

“Thereby missing the water trench and whatever damage was done to the trees,” Link concluded.

“That about sums it up.”

He rubbed the back of his neck. “Man,” he muttered, “the Kakariko authorities are dumb.”

“No kidding.”

“Good work, Nebekah.”

“Thanks,” she said. “So what’s the plan?”

Link groaned. “Man, do I have to have a plan?”

“Do you want Nabooru to die?”

“I have a plan,” he muttered.

“Yes?”

“We follow the trench.”

She nodded firmly. “Good plan.”

“Came up with it all by myself.”

“Well,” she gestured grandly to the pond. “Heroes first.”

“I didn’t bring a raft in my back pocket. We’ll have to go around the pond,” he said.

“Fair enough.”

Link began to walk, Nebekah following behind him as they rounded the edge of the pond. “It was scary,” he murmured after a little while.

“What?”

“Seeing Nabooru like that.”

“Behind bars?”

“Ready to die.”

Nebekah pursed her lips. “Do you have any idea why?”

“Why?”

“Why she wants to die?”

“I…I haven’t been around a lot.”

“What do you mean?”

“I haven’t been a very good friend,” he said. “I lost touch. I forgot to look into things and I have no idea what’s been happening in Nabooru’s world.”

“You’re not responsible for her, Link.”

“I know that. But I should have been a better friend. Maybe then I’d understand what’s happening.”

“You think it’s something internal?”

“I know Nabooru. Or at least, I knew her. The Nabooru I knew would never lay down and die. She’d fight. Long and hard.”

“The Gerudo spirit.”

“Exactly.”

“So…” Nebekah frowned. “What’s the matter?”

“I don’t know. Maybe it has something to do with becoming a Sage,” he theorized.

“Why do you say that?”

“It’s a heavy responsibility. And it brings a lot of unwanted attention. Maybe it’s been rough for her the way being a Hero has been rough on me.”

“I could see that.”

“I saw the way her Beta was babying her. Nabooru would hate being treated as though she were fragile.”

“Interesting insight, blondie.”

“You think that’s it?” he asked.

Nebekah shrugged. “I have no way of knowing. Maybe.”

“Maybe.”



Tyro had heard many things about Princess Zelda over the years. The villagers all talked of her wisdom and her fortitude. But one thing he had never been told was how darn nice she was. Zelda was absolutely the most charming and funny conversationalist Tyro had encountered and he found himself enjoying his chats with her immeasurably, perhaps more than propriety should have allowed, but he had never cared much for propriety anyway. They had been going at it for hours now, punctuated occasionally by visits from a Delta or Sapphia. At one point, Mika had dropped by. Tyro could detect a hint of jealousy about the attention he was paying Zelda. He took this as a good sign. Maybe Mika did feel something for him after all. She certainly had nothing to feel jealous over. But that was the first sign of attraction, wasn’t it? Irrational jealousy regarding the object of your affection?

It had been hours since Mika had dropped by the greeting chamber, however. Now, Tyro and Zelda were sitting side by side on the table hosting Nabooru’s throne, deep in a conversation about Link. This tête-à-tête delighted Tyro, arming him with an abundance of embarrassing anecdotes he could one day use against the hapless Hero, if he so chose.

“I remember,” Zelda said, “his first time in court. It was after the whole Ganondorf disaster, of course.”

“That can’t have been more than a year ago.”

“You’re right. Anyway, Link seemed to think that ‘court’ meant the time when the royals conducted high level trials. He didn’t realize that it was just an anachronistic term for a gathering of rich and annoying courtiers.”

“Oh dear. What happened?”

“Well, he was very confused as to why I had invited him, for one thing.”

“I suppose that makes sense.”

“So, he assumed that he was being called as a witness of some kind. Being a Hero, he’s always considered very trustworthy and honest.”

“Two words I detest,” Tyro droned.

She smiled slightly. “When he arrived, he walked up to the first person he saw. I think it was Lady Valerie Argellius. Yes, I’m certain it was she. Right before she died, sadly. Anyway, Link went straight up to her. He asked, ‘Who committed the crime?’ point blank.”

Tyro chuckled. “That can’t have been good.”

“No, indeed,” she agreed. “You see, one thing I’ve learned about my father’s courtiers is that they are not wholesome people. I’d wager that almost every one of them has, at one point, had an indiscretion or two.”

“Ah ha.”

“And the other thing you must realize is that my father’s court has always been a bit like…well…a bit like a school.”

“A school?”

“It’s hard to keep gossip quiet.”

“I understand.”

“Well, Lady Valerie screamed and ran away. So Link went up to another courtier. This one must have been Lady Meggot Hagen, because she’s rather incapable of keeping her mouth shut. He asks the same question. At once, Meggot begins rattling off all the gossip she knows about everyone there; affairs, embezzlements, corruptions, lies. Link was positively overwhelmed with the decay.” She frowned slightly. “As am I. It’s been hard work trying to clean up the court.”

“Have you also committed these indiscretions to memory?” Tyro asked her politely.

Zelda nodded. “And I’m tackling them one at a time. It hasn’t been easy. But certainly, Meggot’s confession to Link has helped me a great deal.”

“He told you what she said?”

“Every word.”

Tyro laughed. “Ever the Hero.”

“And immediately afterwards, he ran away. His first visit to court was a bit overwhelming, I think.” Zelda pressed her fingers to her mouth, but couldn’t help but giggle.

“I can well imagine.”

“What are you two laughing about?” Sapphia had returned, carrying a tray with several wine glasses and a bowl of dried fruit.

“Just Link,” Tyro said.

“Ah.” She walked over to them, setting the tray down on the dais. “I brought some provisions.”

“That’s very kind of you,” Zelda told her.

“Well,” she muttered, “I’ve had little else to do. There’s no doubt in my mind, at this point, that the Shard is not in the fortress.”

“Nabooru must have it,” Zelda supposed. “I hope Link and Nebekah are doing all right.”

“I’m sure they are,” Tyro told her. “Link’s the Hero, after all. Famous in song and tall tale.”

“Not so tall,” Zelda said. “It’s all true, you know. Everything they say about him.”

“I’m beginning to figure that out,” Tyro admitted.

Sapphia was busily pouring the bright red wine into the three gold cups. “What do you mean?” she asked.

“He’s very heroic. Just like my uncle said he was. You know, I still can’t believe my uncle was telling me the truth.”

“The truth?” Zelda repeated.

“About knowing Link. I always thought Uncle Talon was making that up to impress my father. He never believed it either.”

“Why not?”

“I think Uncle Talon was always a bit jealous of my father,” Tyro explained. “I mean, Talon ran a successful ranch and had a beautiful daughter, but my father was always one step ahead of him. However successful the ranch was, my father’s shop was just a bit better.”

“Are you indicating that you’re just a bit better than Malon?” Zelda wondered with a gleam in her eye.

Tyro laughed again. “Hardly. Malon was the one thing Talon had over my father.”

“Don’t say that,” Sapphia told him, handing over a cup to him. “You’re quite extraordinary, you know.”

He took the wine with a dip of his head. “I wouldn’t say that. Elwood Zahrt’s son isn’t widely known for greatness outside of the Gerudo Valley.”

Zelda was sipping her wine, but she lowered the cup suddenly. “Elwood Zahrt?” she asked.

“That’s my father,” Tyro explained before taking a deep sip of his wine. It was sweet, but just tart enough that he found it almost as enjoyable as the conversation. “This is good,” he muttered, “although it doesn’t taste like grape.”

“I’m so sorry to hear about all the trouble your family has had,” Zelda said.

“Trouble? What do you mean?”

“Well, the charges brought up against your father.”

Tyro blinked. “What are you talking about?”

“I remember his name from the trials I had to memorize. He was charged with abuse.”

“What are you talking about?” Tyro repeated with greater intensity. “My father never abused me.”

“Not you. If I remember, he was brought to trial for beating his wife.”

He set down his cup of wine. “You’re lying,” he said softly.

Zelda’s eyes darted back and forth. “I’m sorry,” she said quickly. “I shouldn’t have said anything.”

“Calm down, Tyro,” Sapphia added. “I’m sure it’s just a mistake. There must be lots of Elmwood Zahrts out there.” She walked over to him, putting a hand on his shoulder. “Just finish the wine and change the subject.”

But Tyro shrugged Sapphia’s hand off of him. “My father was not a wife beater!” he cried. And yet, somehow, it all suddenly made perfect sense to him. His mind reeled, recalling his adventures in the Jaguar territory, learning that his mother had left his father to become a Gerudo. Until now, he had been unable to think of why, but this suddenly made painful sense. Of course she would become a Gerudo. That way, no man would ever dare to cross her again. But how could he reconcile this information? The father he had loved so dearly had been a gentle man, loved by the villagers and his family alike. How could this be the same man?

He stood up, slowly backing away from them. His vision had become hazy and blurred, with rage no doubt. Or maybe it was panic. Zelda watched him, her face pale and fearful. Sapphia looked about nervously, perhaps trying to locate Tyro’s pole arm before he could. But fighting was something Tyro simply wasn’t ready to do. He wanted to run, to hide, to make it not true. Over his shoulder, he could see the door. There was no question. He had to get away from this scene right now.

“Tyro!” Sapphia called as he made a dash. “Tyro! Come back!” She started to chase after him, but Zelda caught her arm, stopping her. Sapphia turned to say something to her, but whatever it was, Tyro didn’t hear it. He had made it to the hallway and ran, letting his footsteps drown out their conversation.



“Ah ha!” Link exclaimed.

“What is it?” Nebekah asked.

“Just as I suspected.”

“What?”

“More trees.”

“I hate you.”

The two of them had been walking deeper and deeper into the forest for hours now. At least, it felt like hours. The sun had set, but they could not see stars or moonlight from the thick canopy overhead. Unlike the Kokiri forest, which was pleasantly cleared and easy to navigate, this particular forest, which in essence served as the border between Hyrule and Calatia, was dense and cramped, filled with raised roots and snarling branches, just waiting to clothes line the unsuspecting traveler. Fortunately, the dense foliage had given Link and Nebekah a bit of an advantage. They were able to clearly make out the trench caused by the real thief’s trek with the idol of Din by following the broken branches.

“Whoever did this must have been really strong,” Link commented.

“Like a Goron?”

Link shook his head. “I don’t think a Goron would really do something like this. Might eat the gold admittedly, but definitely wouldn’t drag it for miles through uncharted forest.”

“What else is this strong?”

“I’m not sure,” he said. “Although, you know, I suppose there could have been more than one thief.”

“Well, I haven’t seen any footprints,” Nebekah said. “Which means the trench probably covered them.”

“Which means it was probably one person dragging the statue,” Link sighed. “I get it.”

“You know, blondie, we make a pretty good team, you and I. We’ve begun to finish each other’s sentences.”

“Well, you’re nicer than my last sidekick,” Link mumbled.

“Sidekick? Wait a second, blondie, you’re my sidekick.”

Link laughed. “Technically speaking, I think we’re both Mika’s sidekicks. This is her initiation quest, remember?”

“How are things between the two of you anyway?” Nebekah asked.

His smile faded. “It’s still pretty strange,” he confessed.

“Strange?”

“Well, she’s my sister. But it’s like there’s a…I don’t know…some kind of chasm between us.”

“Chasm?”

“What I mean to say is that there’s nothing connecting us, aside from blood. We have nothing to share.”

“You share that tattoo your parents gave you.”

“I still don’t understand that,” Link said.

“What’s not to understand?”

“Why would our parents have given us these markings?”

“To find each other again.”

“How did they know we were going to be separated?”

“I don’t know,” Nebekah admitted.

“Me neither. And neither does Mika.”

“Well,” Nebekah mused. “There’s something the two of you have to share.”

“What?”

“You both have the same questions.”

He paused for a moment to consider this. “I suppose you’re right,” he said. “That’s something we have in common.”

“There you go, blondie.”

“Thanks.”

“You’re welcome.”

Link suddenly stopped short, putting a hand on Nebekah’s shoulder. “Look,” he hissed.

Up ahead was a clearing, the first one they had really come to so far. It must have been hand made because it was perfectly round and there were still some tree trunks lying sideways on the ground. In the middle of the clearing was a small log cabin. There were no windows, but a soft orange glow gleamed out from in between the logs, hinting at a fire within. Beside the cabin was a ratty purple sheet, listening in the pale moonlight and covering something large and lumpy.

“I think we just found a suspect,” Nebekah whispered.

“Come on,” Link replied, gesturing forward.

Together, the two of them crept out into the clearing. They did their best to be quiet, but every dried leaf they stepped on sounded like a firecracker exploding. Carefully, they made their way into the muddy clearing, skulking to the sheet. Link was surprised to find it was made of silk. What would such a fine piece of merchandise be doing out in the middle of a clearing, beside a shoddy log cabin? He reached out carefully and lifted the sheet. Resting beneath it, half sunk in the mud, he saw the golden face of Din staring up at him with unseeing eyes.

Nebekah gasped. “Jackpot.”

“Not bad,” Link muttered.

“She’s beautiful.”

“I know, isn’t she?” That was a voice that belonged to neither of them, but the moment Link heard it, he felt his insides clench tightly. Together, Link and Nebekah turned around. A silhouetted figure stood behind them, fists folded at his sides, long hair waving slightly in the breeze. He stepped forward and the moonlight hit his face, causing both Nebekah and Link to gasp audibly at the sight of dozens of cuts and bruises defiling his features. “I imagine,” Ari said, “you were not expecting to find me here.”

“You might say that,” Link said.

Ari shrugged. “Fair enough.” And with that, he pulled back his fist and punched Link in the belly. Link flew backward, falling over the statue of Din and hitting his head against the log cabin. He wheezed, gasping for air. At once, he realized why dragging the statue had been so easy for Ari. Somehow, the Risan thug still possessed some measure of Din Silver, enhancing his strength tenfold.

“Nebekah!” he croaked, trying to warn her, but it was too late. The Jaguar had already launched herself at Ari. She caught him around the ankles, toppling him over and landing on top of him. Perhaps, she though she had the advantage, but Ari gripped her shoulders tightly and threw her. Nebekah rose up into the air with alarming altitude and came crashing down into the mud.

Link rose to his feet, drawing his sword. Ari turned back to him and smirked. “A sword?” he mused. “How quaint.”

“I don’t know how you’re here, but we’re taking that statue of Din and turning you in,” Link said.

“I do not think so,” Ari replied. And with that, he swung his leg up and kicked Link in the knee. There was a pop and Link fell to the ground, his sword tumbling out of his hands. He had not expected such a blow. At once, his entire leg began to throb. He tried to stand up, but it hurt too much and he collapsed once again, face first into the muck. Ari stepped forward and put a foot directly on the back of his throat, leaning over to pick up the sword.

Nebekah rose to her feet by this point. She had pulled an arrow from her quiver and held it like a dagger, ready to spring into action. “Get off of him!”

“Or what?” Ari asked. “You’ll prick me with that arrow? I promise you, my fortitude is not what it used to be.”

“I’m warning you…”

But Ari put some more weight into his foot. “If you come any closer,” he told her, I will step down and break his neck. It is not just in my arms that my strength has increased.”

Reluctantly, Nebekah stopped, tossing down her arrow. “Fine,” she said. “Have it your way.”

“Much better,” Ari said approvingly. “Now, you are going to do me a favor. Not a favor really, I just enjoy the euphemism.”

“What do you want?”

“I understand that Alpha Nabooru of the Dragon Pride is being held prisoner in Kakariko. Is this true?”

“Yes,” Nebekah said.

“Good. I want you to go pay her a visit.”

“Why?”

“I understand that in order to rule over a Gerudo Pride, one must possess something called a Shard?”

“Yes.”

“I wish to have her Shard. Since you robbed me of my reign as king of the Saber Tooth, I will take over the Dragon Pride instead.”

Nebekah blinked. “Are you out of your mind? It doesn’t work that way. The Dragon Pride won’t obey you just because you happen to have a Shard.”

“Are you refusing me?”

“I’m trying to save your life,” she insisted.

“I want the Shard. You will bring it to me.”

“It’ll only get you killed,” Nebekah continued.

Link coughed. “Just do it, Nebekah,” he wheezed.

“Yes, Nebekah,” Ari said. “Just do it. Do it or I will kill your friend here.”

“Fine,” Nebekah said wearily.

Ari tilted his head to one side. “I couldn’t help but notice you admiring my statue,” he went on, “threatening to take it from me.”

“It belongs to the village.”

“Well, it belongs to me now. If you tell any of the villagers that I have it, I will kill your green clad friend here.”

“All right,” Nebekah spat. “All right. I’ll bring you your Shard. Little good may it do you.”

“I am not a patient man,” Ari told her. “I suggest you hurry.”

“You harm one hair on his head –”

“Go.”



Tyro realized that being alone was very helpful at all. Rather than being able to bury his head and forget all about what he had heard, he found, instead, that it was the only thing he could think about. He replayed every instant, every word he had heard his mother say, trying to detect some indication of a reason she could have run away to join the Gerudo other than to escape an abusive husband. There was nothing there, one way or the other, merely leading Tyro back to the conclusion he had made for himself. It was just so horrible. He had loved his father so terrible and, he might add, his father had never once raised a hand to strike him. Then again, perhaps losing his wife had taught Elwood Zahrt a valuable lesson.

He held his head in his hands, closing his eyes to the small guest room he had found for himself. Pressing his hands to his eyelids, he drifted alone, swirling in a sea of colors and shapes that appeared to him in the darkness. Every part of his body, from his hair to his toenails, seemed to ache, pulsing with his rapid heart in punctuations of great pain. Why couldn’t he make it go away? Why couldn’t be return to his casual, easy air and his blasé attitude? The time in the Gerudo Valley had changed him far too much. In the span of only a few weeks, he had lost his mother a second time and now had lost the father he knew.

A strong part of him wanted to blame Zelda for all of this, to point an accusing finger at her. It always helped to find someone to blame. But it wouldn’t work. Zelda’s comment, painful though it had been, had also been innocent. He almost felt bad for her. She hadn’t meant to hurt him. She had merely been trying to be kind. It was wrong to blame her and the guilt he felt at it now was somewhat refreshing. Guilt was better than pain.

There was a knock on the door. “Please go away,” Tyro mumbled, wondering why he said that considering how much it hurt to be alone. The knock came again. Grateful, Tyro swallowed, opening his eyes to look up at the door. “Come in,” he called quietly, trying to blink away the haze from his vision. The door opened and Mika slipped inside. She carefully closed the door behind her, leaning back against it as though trying to barricade herself inside. Her face was flushed and she looked a bit scared. She was wearing a nightgown, rather like the silk dresses they had seen the Saber Tooth women wearing while they were under the control of Ari a few weeks ago. “Mika,” he said in surprise. Of all the people he could have expected to come calling, she was the last on the list.

She examined him a moment, blinking rapidly. He opened his mouth to ask her what was the matter, but she silenced him, raising a finger to her lips with a gentle “Shhh…”

Uncertain of how to ask the question without words, he watched her, hoping that she would read it in his eyes. She moved closer to him, stepping over the many trinkets and keepsakes littering the floor. He extended a hand to her. She slipped her slender fingers into his, allowing him to pull her over the last of the debris and onto the bed where she sat down beside him. Mika turned his hand over, leaning down to kiss his palm, while all the while keeping her eyes up, staring straight at him. His skin tingled pleasantly as her lips touched the heel of his hand.

Gently, he cupped her chin in his hand, raising her up to look at eye level. She has astonishingly blue eyes, like bright cobalt stones. “Mika,” he said softly, “what’s going on?”

She lowered her eyes, wrapping her hand around his wrist. Slowly, he pulled his hand away from her chin, setting it down on her knee. She leaned forward, brushing her lips across his. It was electrifying. Tyro felt every nerve in his body go wild singing brightly at her touch. He snaked his arm around her waist, pulling her closer, giving her a real kiss. Mika leaned in on the kiss, tilting Tyro back a few degrees. His head knocked against the wall.

As quickly as it happened, Tyro pulled away from the kiss, staring at her with wide eyes. “I don’t understand,” he said. “I thought that you weren’t sure of your feelings.” Her only reply was to touch his cheek. Her hand was trembling slightly. “Why are you here?”

Again, she kissed him lightly, but pulled back before he could either accept or reject that answer. She pulled her knees up onto the bed and sat on her heels. With slow, deliberate movements, she raised a hand to her chest and began to untie the strings holding her dress on. Tyro watched, his mind swimming. For the first time in his life, he didn’t know what to say to her and that was certainly something, given his track record with women. Instead, he gazed upon her, hungrily, watching as her collarbone slowly emerged from the loose strings.

He reached out to touch her hair, but she pulled away. Was he moving too fast? He couldn’t be sure any more, so much was happening all at once. Whatever was happening, however, he liked it, wanted it, desired it. The one thing he didn’t do, however, was control it. Slowly, he let his arm fall. Vaguely, he wondered if this were all some kind of elaborate joke. Was Mika only playing with him? It all seemed so contrary to what had happened the night before.

There was hesitation in Mika’s eyes, but then she did something that erased any doubts Tyro might have. The nightgown flew up over her head and fell to the ground. Tyro’s jaw slowly fell as he drank in the sight of her exquisite body. She was beyond beautiful. She was something he couldn’t even think of a word for. And Tyro loved to talk. He tried hard to find the appropriate name for what she was. Perfect, maybe. Or even otherworldly in her beauty. As he looked at her, she suddenly flushed, seeming a bit self conscious. He had been staring too long. That was no good, it meant he was screwing it up. Immediately, he leaned forward, planting his hands down on the bed and kissing her passionately. In Tyro’s experience, there was no better remedy than a fierce kiss.

Mika wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him as close as possible, returning the kiss with equal abandon. Tyro felt wonderfully dizzy, experiencing every sense of her that he could; touch, taste, smell, sight. It was all overwhelmingly wonderful and a part of him hoped it would never end, yet some small voice in the back of his head was still nagging him, ordering him to pull away and, try though he might to resist it, he was forced to surrender.

Tyro pulled back, still close enough to smell her. “Are you sure about this?” he asked.

She nodded.

“I mean, after all the things we’ve said to each other, are you sure that this is what you want?”

Again, she nodded.

“Because, I mean…there’s no going back from this.” He had learned that lesson all too well.

Mika understood with a third nod.

“And you’ve never…”

She shook her head.

“I wouldn’t want you to regret…I mean…” The truth of the matter was he no longer knew what he meant. Why was he resisting this? She had thrice nodded, giving her assent. She had come into the room of her own free will. She sat there now, staring at him longingly, her gaze matching his own feelings. There was just no reason to go on fighting it.

Tyro reached to his own neck and untied the laces of his pulling. He pulled it up, over his head, fully aware of how the static played with his hair. Self consciously, he smoothed it down, tossing the tunic off to one side. Mika gave him an appraising once over, her eyes traveling up and down his impressive torso. She reached out, running her palm along his chest, letting her fingertips dip and curve around his muscles. Her very touch seemed to set him on fire. His heart raced, his mind beyond hazy as he reached forward and slowly pulled her hand away.

No more time for second guessing, Tyro decided firmly. With a flamboyant sweep, he knocked all the remaining bits of treasure off of the bed, sending them clattering to the ground. He lunged forward, wrapping his arms around her small waist. Desire driving him onward, he pulled her up against him, kissing her fiercely and feeling her return the kiss. She snaked her arms around his shoulders, one of her hands climbing up his neck, her fingers working their way through his hair. He leaned against the side of the bed, running his hands up her sides and along the flat of her back. Mika planted her hands down, firmly on either side of his head. He felt her soft hair brush against his cheek. After that, he felt his heart explode.



Nebekah raced all the way back to Kakariko. Her arms and legs were cut and bruised from all of the tangled branches and twigs, her back soaked with sweat, and an enormous stitch throbbed in her side, but her years of Gerudo training paid off in this case. She sent her mind far away, meditating, reflecting on the task at hand, how urgent it was that she do what needed to be done. Two lives were at stake; her close friend and Hyrule’s greatest Hero and perhaps Hyrule’s most legendary Gerudo Alpha since the days of unity.

Despite her mettle and fortitude, it still took Nebekah several hours to get back to the village. She didn’t like the looks of the sky. She could almost smell the sunrise coming and at sunrise, all might be lost for poor Nabooru. Nebekah had never actually met the Dragon Alpha herself, but the stories she had heard had inspired a certain spark of reverence. Nabooru was a great Alpha, no question about that, but she had also been quite a figure in the campaign for peace among the Prides. The Dragon Pride, perhaps the greatest and largest of all the Prides, had forged relations with every other Pride except for the Kodiak, who remained elusive and fierce as ever. Nabooru herself had spearheaded several peace talks among the other Alphas.

To be honest, Nebekah felt a bit nervous, her stomach flip flopping as she approached the jail building. Facing Nabooru was like facing a legend. It wasn’t the same as dealing with Link, though he had arguably garnered more fame. Link would always be a childhood friend who Nebekah could tease and rib. Nabooru was a larger than life, distant figure of reverence. It was best not to think of that though. Whatever else Nabooru was, Nebekah was anxious not to add the word martyr to that list. No good could come of that.

Surprisingly, the door to the jailhouse was unlocked. Nebekah let herself in. At the desk by the door, a guard was relaxing, his feet up on top, his head lolling back, mouth open to snore thunderously. Nebekah allowed her eyes to adjust to the dark for a moment, wondering whether or not she would need to wake him, but a voice answered the question for her.

“I told you, Liandra,” it said, “I will have no part in any sort of jailbreak. It’s not honorable.”

“You have me mistaken for someone else,” Nebekah said, passing the guard to approach the jail cell.

Nabooru looked up from her sitting position, on the bed, a blanket wrapped around her shoulders. “Who are you?” she asked.

“Nebekah, daughter of Elena, first Beta…” she paused. “Future Alpha of the Jaguar Pride.”

“Future Alpha?” Nabooru repeated. “What has become of Miral?”

“Dead,” Nebekah answered flatly.

“Oh.”

“Yes.”

“Unfortunate.”

“She will be avenged.”

“By you?”

“Yes.”

“Good on you.”

“Thank you.”

“What are you doing here, Nebekah?” Nabooru whispered.

“I’ve come on an urgent matter. Link has –”

“So,” she interrupted, “Link has sent you.”

“Yes.”

“I thought I made it perfectly clear to him that I did not want to be rescued from this fate.”

“You did. And he doesn’t see why.”

“No, he wouldn’t,” she muttered.

Nebekah tilted her head to one side. “Why do you say that, Alpha?”

“Never mind,” Nabooru insisted. “Go back to Link and tell him that I wish he would honor my –”

“Link is in trouble,” Nebekah cut her off.

“What do you mean?”

“He’s being held hostage by…by the real thief.”

Nabooru sighed in a long suffering manner. “So, he went after the thief despite my wishes.”

“You know how he is,” Nebekah said with a shrug.

“Afraid so.”

“But now he’s in trouble. The real thief has threatened to kill him unless I bring him back your Shard.”

She raised an eyebrow. “My Shard?”

“Yes.”

“A strange request.”

“Alpha, he has a vendetta against Link. I have no question that he will do what he says.”

“Far be it for me to leave this world harming Link,” Nabooru said. She lowered the blanket from her shoulders. For a woman of her advanced years, she was in remarkably good shape, broad and muscular in all the proper places. Hanging from her neck was a large gold necklace and embedded into the chunky charm was a piece of Topaz. She pressed her fingertips to it and the stone popped out. “Here,” she passed it through the bars to Nebekah’s hand. “Go save Link.”

Nebekah closed her hand around it. “Thank you, Alpha.”

“It’s the least I can do.”

“Do you want me to tell him anything?”

“Tell him…” she paused, musing. “Tell him I wish I had been stronger.”

“Stronger? What do you mean?”

“I wish I could have born my shame with greater courage.”

“What shame is that?” Nebekah asked.

“It’s complicated.”

“Please. I want to make sure that Link understands the message.”

Nabooru sighed heavily. She turned around, pacing the length of the cell before sitting on the small cot again. “There was a time, when I was much younger, when I had no fears, no doubts. I became an Alpha at a very young age, you know.”

“I do,” Nebekah said. “I know much of your Pride’s history.”

“I don’t mean to sound proud, but I always considered myself to be a reasonably good Alpha.”

“All I’ve heard of you confirms that.”

“Not all you’ve heard,” Nabooru told her.

“What do you mean?”

“I’m sure you’ve heard all about the events of Ganondorf Dragmire’s rise and fall.”

“Yes, of course.”

She shook her head. “I’m afraid,” she said, “that I let my Pride down terribly in that disaster. Not just my Pride, my friends, my allies, my daughter. Everyone. My people.”

“Why do you say that?”

“Twinrova. The way that they manipulated me…tricked me…forced me to serve them…it is because of them that my Pride fell under Ganondorf’s rule. Because of my inability to fight against them that such horrors befell the Valley.”

“That wasn’t your fault,” Nebekah said. “I mean, from what I’ve heard of the story, it wasn’t your fault at all. The Twinrova sisters are powerful witches. No one could help it. It was –”

“It was a humiliation,” Nabooru cut her off. “And I can’t live it down, no matter how hard I try.”

“No one blames you for it.”

“Not aloud, no. But I know what I did. I know what I helped them do. How can I be permitted to continue as Alpha under those circumstances?”

“You mustn’t blame yourself,” Nebekah begged. “And you certainly mustn’t allow that stupid trick to rob your people of their greatest Alpha.”

“Most vulnerable Alpha.”

“It could have happened to anyone. Who knows, the Twinrova sisters might very well pull the same stunt on your successor.”

“Yes but…” Nabooru trailed off. “Pull the same stunt on my successor, what are you talking about? The Twinrova sisters are dead.”

Nebekah shook her head. “No, Alpha. They’re alive. And plotting revenge against Link and most of the Valley.”

“Alive?”

“Yes, Alpha. Link and I have been fighting against them. Alpha Medea has charged us and three others with the task of collecting all the Shards. She thinks that assembling the Topaz again will be the only way to stop them.”

“You won’t be enough,” Nabooru said. “You’ll need the entire Gerudo nation behind you to stop them.”

“It well may come to that,” Nebekah admitted.

“You’ll need the Alphas to cooperate.”

“That’s no easy task.” She frowned. “You’re the only one who can do that.”

Nabooru stood up, pacing back and forth in front of the bars to her cell, her hands clasped together, pressing against her lips. “I must return to the Dragon stronghold to rally our sisters.”

“That might be difficult if you allow yourself to be stoned to death.”

She turned to look at her, her eyes racing with a thousand thoughts. “Yes, yes, this can’t happen. I must…you, you must bring in the real thief.”

“I can do that,” Nebekah told her with a nod.

“Go, hurry, quickly.”

“I will, Alpha.”

“The sunrise is only a few hours away.”

“I have to save Link first,” Nebekah said. “The thief managed to defeat him.”

“Defeat him?”

“Yes.”

“How?”

“He has Din Silver.”

“Here,” Nabooru said, pulling her gauntlets off. “Take these back with you.” She thrust them out in between the bars of the cell.

Carefully, Nebekah took the gauntlets. They were made of pure silver, but seemed impossibly light. “What are they?” she asked.

“Silver gauntlets. Also Din Silver. It will level the playing field, if not give you an edge.”

“Thank you, Alpha.” She pulled off her own leather gauntlets, tossing them to the ground. As she slipped on the silver gauntlets, she felt an incredible surge of strength cut through her veins. It was a somewhat intoxicating feeling, as though nothing in the world could get in her way. It flowed through her arms, surging down into her legs and renewing their strength and power. Suddenly, the run back to the cabin in the middle of the woods seemed like no problem at all. No, Nebekah was certain that she could make the dash in under an hour and not be winded at all.



“I don’t suppose you’re going to feed me.” Sitting on the floor of Ari’s cabin for hours on end had made Link painfully aware of the fact that he had not eaten all day. He had so been expecting a warm reception back at the Dragon stronghold, complete with lavish dishes and warm wine.

“No,” Air replied dully.

“I figured as much,” Link said with a shrug. He was leaning against the wall, his wrists bound with a length of rotting rope. For the first hour or so, he had experimented with the strength of the line, tugging it subtly, wondering if he could break it. Despite its advanced state of decay, it seemed a bit doubtful. And it didn’t help that his arms were slippery with muck from his rather humiliating swan dive earlier out in the clearing. Besides, even if he broke his arms free, he’d still have to cut the ties binding his ankles together. “How about a game?” he asked. “I’d love a good guessing game.”

“Shut up,” Ari told him.

Link rolled his eyes. By far, the worst part about being held prisoner was the boredom. He wondered how his friends, the Sages, had managed to keep from going completely mad. Then again, he wasn’t entirely sure they had been fully conscious for those seven years. Lucky them. “I don’t like the silence. If you won’t talk, then I’ll just talk for the both of us.”

“I’ll gag you,” Ari promised.

“See, now that’s just not fair.”

“Life isn’t fair.”

“Okay, philosophy. Not my strongest suit, but we can start there. Life isn’t fair. Life isn’t fair.”

“Do you ever get tired of the sound of your own voice?”

“Usually, I’m more of the strong silent type,” he admitted. “But I’m just bored right now.”

“As I said, life isn’t fair.”

“Seems to be a bit too fair to you right now,” Link said. “I mean, you’re the one in charge of the situation.”

“I assure you, this is not what I call fair.”

“Oh?”

“Not in the least.”

“Why not?”

“I shouldn’t even be here,” Ari cried in a sudden burst of passion, slamming a fist into his palm.

Link jumped in surprise. “Where should you be?” he asked. “Back ruling over the Saber Tooth?”

“If I had my way,” Ari said, “I would never have even heard of the Saber Tooth.” He ran a hand over his badly scarred face. Link had no idea what the Delta warriors in the quarry had done to Ari, but whatever it had been, it hadn’t been pleasant. The last them he had seen the Risan exile, he had been a fairly handsome man, but now he looked mutilated, defiled, ever part of his face swollen or misshapen except for the celestial, Risan brand on his forehead.

“So if you had your way,” Link said, “If life were fair…”

“Yes?”

“Where would you be?”

“Home,” Ari said bluntly.

“Home?”

“Risa.”

“I’ve never been there,” Link said. “I’ve heard about it though. Thought I might visit someday.”

“You would not like it,” Ari snorted. “The sun would sear right through your thin, Hylian skin.”

“I grew up in a forest, that’s why I’m so pale.”

“I grew up in a palace.”

He raised an eyebrow. “A palace?”

“Beverly Castle,” Ari whispered. “The seaside, wooden palace in Risa’s capital city.”

“What were you? Some kind of courtier or something?”

Ari laughed coldly. “Risans do not have such foolish things like courtiers or servants.”

“So why did you live in a palace?”

“I was a prince,” Ari said.

“A prince?”

“The youngest son of King Darius Ricker.”

Link scowled. “You were banished.”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

A vein in Ari’s throat throbbed slightly. “My sister, as heir apparent to the throne, was given a priceless Risan artifact, the Ring of Light. It had been passed down from generation to generation. A beautiful gold ring with a sapphire the size of your eye and twice as valuable.”

“And…?”

“The ring was stolen!” Ari shouted, causing Link to jump. “The gold setting turned up, but the jewel was never found.”

“What’s this got to do with you?”

“The gold was found in my room! I was blamed! I was the one punished for this sacrilegious crime!”

“Did you do it?”

“Of course not! But that didn’t matter, did it? They thought I had aspirations to the throne. Me! And I was banished, exiled from my home. My family. My wife to be.”

“Oh.”

“And so I came here. And I heard stories, stories of a great and renowned thief called Nabooru.”

Link gasped. Suddenly, the dots connected. He had heard of Nabooru’s many exploits. One of the most legendary was her theft of, “The Ring of Light. She’s the one who stole it.”

“Yes. And left me to take the fall.”

“And so now you want her Shard so you can take over her Pride. She robbed you of your family, so now you’re taking hers.”

Ari laughed coldly. “I have no real interest in ruling over a Gerudo Pride,” he said.

“So why did you send Nebekah to get the Shard?”

“To get rid of her. It will take her hours to get to the village and hours to get back here again.”

“Sunrise…”

“By the time I have the Shard, Nabooru will be dead. I do not mean to deprive her of her Pride. I mean to deprive her of her life.”

“You just sent Nebekah to separate us.”

“Yes.”

“To kill time.”

“Exactly. I couldn’t have you ruining my revenge a second time by saving her miserable skin.”

“Ari,” Link said slowly. “You have to listen to me very carefully.”

“I don’t have to do anything.”

“The Gerudo nation, Hyrule as a whole, is facing a grave crisis. If Nabooru dies, it could make things worse.”

“Do you think I care about Hylians? I am a Risan, you stupid boy. And if I cannot have my homeland, I have no home at all. So Hyrule falls. I don’t care. I can leave.”

“Are you really so selfish?”

“So it would seem.”

“Well, no wonder they didn’t hesitate to suspect you of stealing that ring,” Link told him coldly.

“You’d best be careful.”

“Why?”

“It is Nabooru’s death I want, but you are no friend of mine either. You caused me great trouble with the Saber Tooth and I haven’t forgiven you for that.”

“I’m not afraid of you,” Link insisted.

“I’ll tell you a secret.”

“And what’s that?”

“When I fought you, when I hit you using the Din Silver to enhance my strength…”

“Yes?”

Ari smiled cruelly. “I held back.”



Mika was walking, practically sleep walking, through the hallways of the fortress when she heard a rather peculiar sound. It was music. Of course, she had heard music before, who hadn’t? But this wasn’t like the Gerudo tunes she was used to. Those were all abrasive, beaten into drums and bellowed by obnoxious horns. This music was soft and delicate, almost like the call of a bird. It seemed so contrary with the surroundings that Mika’s curiosity forced her to follow the sound. Through the winding hallways it led her, past dozens of rooms with piles and piles of gold and silver, around an oasis courtyard with willowy trees, until, at last, she found herself right back where she had begun the day, in Nabooru’s greeting chamber.

Zelda was sitting along on the dais, her lips pressed to a strange instrument Mika had never seen before. It was a bit comical really, seeing this princess sit alone in the middle of a stronghold, playing music as though it were the most natural incidence possible. A part of her wanted to laugh at the sight of it, but Mika held back. Zelda was a princess after all, and if Mika’s upbringing had taught her one thing, it was to respect strong, female authorities. After all, stories of Zelda’s exploits had reached even the remote Orca Pride.

When she entered the room, Zelda lowered the instrument, cutting off the song abruptly. “Oh, I’m sorry,” she said, “Did I wake you?”

She shook her head. “No, I was already up. I heard the music and followed it. What do you call that thing?”

“This?” Zelda asked, holding up her instrument.

“Yeah.”

“This is an ocarina. Just an ordinary one. Nothing special about it other than the fact that it keeps hitting sharps when it should be hitting naturals.”

Masking her confusion, Mika nodded. “It’s pretty. What were you playing?”

Zelda shrugged. “A song my nursemaid used to play to me to get me to go to sleep. When I’m restless, I think of the song and it helps me to center myself.”

“Doesn’t still put you to sleep, does it?”

She laughed. “No, not any more. But it still effects me.” She gestured to the dais. “Please, join me.”

“Thanks.” Mika took a seat beside Zelda, leaving enough space between them for propriety.

“Your friends have told me all about your quest to collect the Shards,” Zelda said. “It’s just like something Link would do, really.”

“It is?”

“Well, he didn’t collect Shards, but he did collect Spiritual Stones and later he did collect Sages.”

“The stories of the Hero of Time reached my Pride,” Mika said, “but I have to admit, I didn’t pay as much attention to them as I should have.”

“Should have?”

“Well, I had no way of knowing that Link was my brother. I didn’t even know I had a brother, to be honest.”

Zelda frowned. “You didn’t?”

“No.”

“But you must have been three, maybe four, when Kasuto was burned. I’d think you’d remember something about it.”

“Until recently, the only life I ever remembered living as my life among the Gerudo. And it’s been a really good life. I mean, I’ve been happy. I had everything I needed, a mother, sisters, friends. And I never questioned if there were anything more to my life. I didn’t think knowing about my real origins was all that important. I almost felt like it was an evil thing, like, wondering about where I came from made me ungrateful to the family I had.”

“You’re very lucky. You never had to wonder.”

“What do you mean?”

“Link was adopted too, but a race that wasn’t truly his own. But the problem was, he never fit in, so he felt free to wonder as much as he liked. You, on the other hand, seemed to be a fit.”

“Yeah,” Mika said. “I belonged.”

“Do you still feel that way?”

Mika was silent for a moment, considering the question. Did she really belong among the Orca any more? She knew that she loved them, and of course, they loved her too. But that didn’t mean she belonged. She had seen quite a lot recently, felt a lot, done a lot, that would make her an outsider when she returned. “I don’t know,” she admitted softly.

“May I ask you something?”

“Sure.”

“You said that until recently, the only life you remembered was with the Orca Pride.”

“Yeah.”

“What’s happened recently?”

“Lately, this stronghold has happened.”

“What do you mean?”

She shrugged. “As I was walking around, looking for the Shard, I saw…something…that made me have some kind of flashback, some kind of memory I had forgotten.”

“What did you see?”

“I saw myself leaving Kasuto for the last time. And I don’t know how I could have remembered it after so much time.”

“I see.”

“And later on, I was in my quarters and I smelled this strange perfume on the bed sheets. And then I remembered the first time I heard Medea’s voice. I remembered hearing her bargain with Nabooru for my upbringing.”

“Well, that all makes perfect sense.”

“It does?”

Zelda nodded. “Sensory input has a wonderful way of reviving memories,” she said. “A familiar taste or touch can instantly take us back to our childhood. I suppose these sensations are causing you to remember things you had forgotten.”

“I wish…”

“What?”

“I wish I could remember my mother. My real mother. I know it’s not a betrayal to want that. When I was very young, I think I could still remember her. Just flashes. But now there’s nothing.”

“Of course not.”

“And I’ve been walking around the stronghold, looking for something that might help me to remember her, but there’s nothing. She was never here.”

“You know, in my experience, no sense connects to the memory stronger than hearing.”

“Yeah?”

“Do you mind if I try an experiment?”

“I guess.”

“Link taught me this song a year ago. When I asked him where he learned it, he said he didn’t know. He just remembered.” With that, Zelda lifted the ocarina to her lips and began to play. The tune was sweet and very simple. Mika instantly found herself swaying, feeling the music penetrate. She felt a sting on her arm and touched her fingertips to her strange, blue tattoo. When she closed her eyes, she suddenly saw something.

Staring at her was a pretty Hylian woman with long blond hair, pulled back into braids that fell over her shoulders. Her eyes were lowered, watching attentively as she worked her needle across Mika’s wrist. The ink stunt as it went in. Mika’s eyes watered, tears rolling down her pink cheeks, but she did her best not to cry. To comfort her, the woman hummed softly, her voice matching the tune that drifted in and out of Mika’s consciousness from someplace outside of the memory. “That’s my strong girl,” the woman said. “Don’t cry, it’ll be over soon.”

“Why are you doing this?” the young Mika asked.

“I’m doing this because your father warned me that it was important. He said he wanted you and brother to find each other again.”

“Are we going away somewhere?”

“Not if I can help it,” the woman said. “But there are some things that are beyond my control.” She resumed the song again, humming gently as she pricked Mika’s skin again and again, pressing down the blue ink into the strange shape.

“Like what?”

“What do you mean, Mika?”

“What’s out of your control?”

“Well, prophecies.”

“What’s that mean?”

“A prophecy is like…like a promise. And you know it’s going to come true, but you don’t know how or why or when.”

“A promise?”

“Yes.”

“What’s the promise?”

“The promise,” she explained, “is that your brother is going to be the downfall of a Gerudo king.”

“A Gerudo king? But there’s no such thing.”

“Not now there isn’t. But someday there will be. That’s a part of the prophecy too.”

“How do you learn about a prophecy?”

“You go to an Oracle.”

“Is that where daddy went?”

“Yes. The one in Calatia.”

“When is he going to come back?”

There was pain in her eyes as she spoke. “His letter said he would come back soon,” she promised. “The same letter that told me I must mark you and your brother right away.” She began humming the song again, but her voice wavered and her eyes looked sad, as if she might cry. Still, she continued to hum.

Mika opened her eyes. She looked up at Zelda in amazement. “I saw her,” she said.

“Who?”

“My mother. I saw her.”



Link had been staring up at the sky through a wide crack in the logs of the cabin for a long while. How long, he couldn’t say for certain since he had lost track of the time, an ironic talent for someone who boasted the title of Hero of Time. His chest ached with the foreboding sense of doom he felt, knowing that the sunrise was not far off. Ari’s plan, unfortunately, seemed foolproof. Even if Nebekah made it back before sunrise and the two of them managed to overpower him, there was still no way they’d reach the village again in time to stall off Nabooru’s execution.

He had played out numerous scenarios in his head, trying to think of some alternative he had not considered. In fact, he even went so far as to entertain the idea of using magic, but that would have disastrous consequences. Magic was too delicate an art to be used on a whim, especially after his lack of practice. The demons of his memory laughed again. It was his own fault. In his continuous effort to forget the traumatic ordeal of Ganondorf Dragmire, Link had purposefully avoided anything related to the quest, including magic. Now, he rather wished he had kept up his skills, continued practicing from time to time.

Ari was sitting on a log that somehow passed for a bench in this ramshackle cabin. Much to Link’s disgust, the Risan thug seemed quite pleased with himself. Or at least what passed for a pleased expression. His mangled face did not convey emotion the way it should have. The Saber Tooth warriors had certainly done a number on him. Guilty though it made him feel, Link had to admit that, at the moment, he was somewhat glad. This was a man who was willing to sacrifice the possible future of Hyrule for a petty revenge plot. Link had tried to explain. He went into great detail, divulging information he would have normally kept to himself. But his words fell on deaf ears. Ari wanted nothing but revenge.

Longingly, Link stared across the floor at his sword, lying on the ground, useless and muddy. If only he could conjure up the smallest telekinesis spell, just something to bring the blade toward him. He could easily have cut his own bindings with magic, less than a year ago. But without practice, it was simply too dangerous. He was every bit as likely to impale himself if he tried to move the sword.

There was a sudden explosion of sound, wood cracking as if struck by an ox or bull. The door to the cabin practically shattered, snapping in half directly in the middle, the two broken pieces falling to the ground with a clatter. Ari leapt to his feet, turning to face the door and Nebekah came charging in, looking angry. Fear flashed across Ari’s face and Link knew it wasn’t because he was afraid of the Gerudo Beta. She had returned before sunrise that was the real problem. The plan had gown awry and now Ari would have to improvise.

“Nebekah!” Link cried. He smiled fiercely, feeling his chest swell with pride. He didn’t know how she had done it, but somehow, she had managed to prove once again that she was full of surprises.

Ari composed himself almost immediately. “You’re back,” he said cautiously, taking his time.

“Yes,” Nebekah said.

“Do you have it, then?”

“The Shard?”

“Yes.”

She nodded. “Oh yeah. I have it.”

“Give it to me. I want to see it with my own eyes. I want to know if you’re trying to foist off a fake on me.” Link smiled slightly. That would be Ari’s next ploy, he was certain of it. After seeing the Shard, real or not, he would insist it was counterfeit and refuse to fulfill his end of the bargain.

“Oh, it’s real,” Nebekah said.

“Give it to me.”

“Come over here and take it.” Nebekah reached into her boot and removed the Shard. Link examined it briefly from his position on the floor. He couldn’t tell for certain, but it certainly looked real. It looked just like the three other pieces that he carried with him in his pack.

Slowly, Ari made his way over. “It does not look real to me,” he said, most predictably.

“No?”

“I think it’s a chunk of amber.”

“Come take a closer look,” Nebekah said.

“I warn you, I will not tolerate being played for a fool. My intellect is far superior to yours, Gerudo.”

Nebekah held the Shard out further. As Ari got close, however, she suddenly pulled back her fist and punched him in the jaw. He went flying across the room, crashing into the far wall. “Superior intellect,” Nebekah scoffed.

“That’s going to cost you,” Ari said, straightening himself out and touching his jaw lightly.

“Take it like a man,” she droned.

“Ladies first.” He pulled out his two chunks of Din’s Silver and tightened his fists around them. With an animalistic yowl, he launched himself forward at her, attempting to take her by the waist. Nebekah clapped her hands together and brought them down on Ari’s back, sending him to the ground with such force that the entire cabin seemed to shake for a moment.

“Nebekah!” Link cried in amazement. Yet, as he looked at her, he realized that the source of her strength was not her unfailing willingness to eat her vegetables. Link realized that she was wearing a pair of silver gauntlets that were all too familiar, etched with Gerudo runes.

Groaning, Ari pulled himself back up to his feet. “You are a glutton for punishment,” Nebekah said with a sigh.

“How are you doing this?” Ari asked. Evidently, he hadn’t noticed the change in Nebekah’s wardrobe.

“Gerudo trade secret,” Nebekah replied. Ari charged at her again, swinging his fists wildly. His anger contributed to his downfall, making his blows sloppy. Nebekah easily brushed aside his arms, striking him across the face. He flew again, crashing into the wall beside Link and slowly sinking down the side. Link scooted away from him, doing his best to keep distance. Whether or not Nebekah was a match for him, Link could do her no favors if he became the hostage again.

It didn’t really matter much, however. Nebekah made her way over to the wall and grabbed Ari by the scruff of the neck, hoisting him clean off the ground. Effortlessly, she tossed him across the room to the other wall. He hit it with a soft grunt and crumpled to the ground.

She started to go after him again, but Link stopped her. “Hey, Nebekah,” he called. “Would you mind?” He held up his wrists.

“Oh, blondie. Forgot about you there.”

“Great.”

Nebekah crossed over to him. Taking hold of the ropes, she ripped them clean off of his hands. “Hope I didn’t keep you waiting.”

“I was on the edge of my seat.”

“I met with Nabooru. Here.” She handed him the Shard.

“I see she gave you a helping hand.”

She ripped off the ropes around his ankles. “Well, let me put it this way. I think I’ve given her a new reason to live again.”

“You have?”

“Yeah.”

“That’s great!”

“Gerudo scum!” Ari yelled. “I’ll kill you!”

“Oh please,” Nebekah groaned. But already, Ari had started a third charge at Nebekah. Easily, she knocked him aside, sending him into the only wall he had not yet hit, the one by the door. He smashed into it and crumpled to the ground, this time, without getting up again.

“I really hope you didn’t kill him,” Link muttered, getting to his feet and slipping the Shard into his pocket.

She had already crossed the room over to him. Leaning down, she pressed her fingers to his neck. “Just stunned,” she assured Link.

“Good,” Link said, grabbing his sword and wiping some of the muck off by rubbing it against the wall. “We’re going to need to turn him in as the real thief if we want to get Nabooru’s name cleared.”

“Which means we have to get back to the village by sunrise,” Nebekah said. She peered out from in between the logs of the cabin. “I’d say we have little more than an hour.”

“We can’t carry him all the way back,” Link sighed. He picked up a few of the discarded segments of rope that had some length left to them. “We’ll have to tie him up and leave him here.”

Nebekah pulled off one of her gauntlets, tossing it over to Link. “Here,” she said as he caught it. “You’d better wear that.”

Link stared at it for a moment, remembering his own pudgy little ten year old hands as they had first held it. “Why?”

“Stronger legs make for a faster runner,” she said.

He slipped the gauntlet on then walked over to Ari. Nebekah joined him and silently, the two of them set to work, tying up the Risan. Silently, Link wondered if he should say something to Nabooru about her thievery. After all, while Ari was hardly a noble man, it seemed that she had set off much of his crime spree. Still, there were more important matters at stake than a theft from years ago. It hadn’t been quite so complicated when he had been fighting Ganondorf. During that particular battle, it seemed that the distinctions of good and evil had been much clearer. Things were different this time around. The tumultuous battlefield of Gerudo politics had muddied the waters. Now certainly wasn’t the time for a crisis of conscious, Link knew that. Still, he couldn’t help but marvel at how complicated life among the Gerudo had become. No wonder Sapphia spoke so passionately about unity. It was much simpler that way.



The sunrise slowly crept up over the horizon. In time, Tyro could feel the first rays of sunlight falling over his face through the window. He felt them, but he could not see them. The fact of the matter was that he had been awake for hours, but he had not dared to open his eyes. Instead, he lay there, his eyes closed, his arms wrapped around Mika’s waist, listening to her breathe. Making love with her had proved every bit as enjoyable as arguing with her and in truth, he didn’t want to open his eyes because he was afraid she would vanish like a phantom. He wanted to hold her, to listen to her and smell her and never wake up from this half sleep. Of course, he knew it couldn’t last, but he had enjoyed those hours so much.

He sighed softly. It was time. He knew it. All good things and such. Longingly, he took a final, deep whiff, drinking in as much of her as he could, just as she was at the moment because he knew, without a doubt, that things were going to change as soon as the two of them saw each other, spoke to each other. His only hope was that this change would be for the better. Finally, he opened his eyes and found his face buried deep within a soft pile of red hair. Red?

With a gasp, he pulled back so quickly that he actually propelled himself clean off of the bed, landing on the ground with a clatter as he struck the stolen Gerudo booty he had swept off last night. The wind was knocked out of him and for a moment, he lay on his back, dazed and confused as little stars burst before his eyes. From the bed, he heard a soft, waking moan and the rustle of sheets. As he caught his breath, he put his hand up on the side of the bed and pulled himself upright, peering over the side to stare in complete horror.

There, nestled delicately, a silk cover pressed to her chest, was Sapphia. Her eyes darted around the room before she spotted Tyro, completely terrified, clutched the side of the bed with his fingertips. She caught his eyes a moment and the two shared a long, hard look, but it was Sapphia who looked away. Guilty, she looked down at the floor on the opposite side of the bed. “I suppose,” she said, “you’re going to be very upset with me now.”

His throat felt a bit craggy. “How?” he wheezed.

“I wouldn’t blame you.”

“I don’t understand.”

“What?”

“How did you do it?”

“Oh…”

“I thought you were –”

“Mika?” she said. “I heard you say her name. But I would have guessed anyway. I see the way you look at her.”

“How did you do it?”

“Heart’s Desire,” she said. “In the –”

“In the wine,” he whispered.

“Yes.”

He pressed his face into his hands. “Oh Nayru…” he groaned. That was why his vision had been so hazy last night.

“You can’t really blame me.”

That got him angry. “Oh no?” he growled, looking up at her fiercely. “You deceived me!”

“I didn’t have a choice!” she countered.

“What are you talking about?”

“I told you, I see the way you look at Mika. Longingly. Lovingly. Filled with desire and passion and energy. How do you think it feels?”

“What feels?” he hissed.

“How do you think it feels, watching the way you are with her, wishing with all my heart that you would look at me the same way.”

“You?”

She laughed coldly. “Yes. Me. Remember me? The one always following along with everyone else’s plans. The one that always gets ignored or brushed aside. The eternal sidekick. No one ever thinks to ask what I want.”

“Fine. What do you want?”

For a moment, she merely stared at him. “Isn’t it obvious?”

“If it were obvious, I think everyone would know and we wouldn’t be having this conversation now.”

“I want you, Tyro.”

“Me?”

“Yes.”

“I don’t understand.”

“I didn’t think you would. And I realize, of course, that you’re going to be very cross with me now for deceiving you.”

“I should be.”

“A small price to pay.”

“What do you mean?”

“I’ve never been with a man before. And even if you spend the rest of your life hating me for what I did, it would still have been worth it. I will carry the memory of you with me to the grave.”

“Well, you’ve buried me now. When Mika finds out –”

“No,” Sapphia said quickly. “I mean, she doesn’t have to find out. She doesn’t have to know.”

“You won’t say anything?”

“I would never do that to you, Tyro.”

“You’d just deceive me.”

“As I have already told you, I didn’t have a choice.”

“No, there is always a choice. I’ve learned that much from being out here in the Valley.”

She lowered her eyes. “And I guess you choose her.”

“I chose her. You had to come and make things complicated.”

“Tell me one thing, honestly.”

“What?”

“Could you ever feel anything for me, Tyro?”

He sighed, rubbing his eyes though the last of the Heart’s Desire hazy had long since evaporated. “Maybe,” he admitted. “If you hadn’t tricked me like this. If you had said something.”

“I’m so sorry.”

“No, you’re not,” he replied coldly.

“I guess I’m not,” she confessed.

Tyro stood up, turning away from Sapphia. He touched his hands to the back of his head, tiling his chin up to stare at the ceiling. The feelings whirling around inside of him were simply too much. It was as if the person he had always been, the casual, blasé charmer, was dissolving, giving way to a new person. Why was he feeling this way? He had cheated so many times before on so many girls. Intentionally. But now, it felt like the tables had been turned, like someone had cheated him. And yet Mika wasn’t even in the room. He wished desperately to the highest powers he knew to make it untrue, to make it Mika lying in that bed, not Sapphia. But no amount of wishing to could what he had done. No. What she had done.

“So,” he whispered to the wall, “what happens now?”

“Nothing has to happen,” Sapphia told him. “We go on with our mission. We assemble the Topaz and pretend like nothing ever happened…if that’s what you want, Tyro.”

“That is what I want,” he said. “But I wish nothing had happened for real.”

“We can pretend. And…and if you change your mind…I’ll be waiting for you, Tyro. If Mika doesn’t live up to this goddess image you’ve built of her.”

He whirled around, pointing and angry finger at her. “Don’t you dare speak disparagingly of her!”

“I’m sorry!”

“Hmph,” he snorted, turning away again.

“I only mean that…well, maybe she can’t offer you as much as I can.”

“What do you mean by that?”

“I offered myself to you. Would she be willing to do the same?”

Tyro didn’t have an answer for that, but the question so enraged him that he couldn’t speak. Instead, he merely glared at her, all his warm memories of the night before melting away like snow in this hot, unforgiving desert.



The village of Kakariko often gathered together in the town square to celebrate. There were weddings and festivals and feasts to the goddesses. There were carnivals and holidays and even the occasional funeral celebrating the life of an important figure in the town. But this was different somehow, a solemn occasion, but one that still brought a massive amount of people flocking to the town square. Of course, everyone had heard the stories of the legendary thief called Nabooru, but no one had ever actually seen her before. She was famous for making miraculous escapes that no one ever cracked. To see her in the flesh was a rare opportunity, and as they well knew, soon to be a final opportunity.

She was brought from the town jailhouse in a solemn parade, Tertias leading the way, followed by a few of the local guards, escorting the Gerudo Alpha who’s hands and been bound with chains. Following behind Nabooru were several warriors of the Dragon Pride, including her Beta, Liandra, who threw deadly glares at any villager who thought to approach, throw produce, or so much as utter a single jeer at her beloved and condemned leader. They wound their way slowly through the town, the mayor hoping to maintain dignity as much as possible by heading straight for the square. If the villagers wanted spectacle though, there was still plenty to be had for, upon reaching the site of the incredible robbery, Nabooru was placed up on top of the pedestal, right where the statue of Din had once stood.

Next, there came the speeches. Solemnly, the mayor spoke to the people as they gathered, reflecting on the direness of the situation. He spoke in praise of all the good that Nabooru had done for Hyrule, how her services as Sage had helped in the defeat of Ganondorf Dragmire, but how no one was above the law. To make an exception would be setting a terrible president, one which would haunt generations to come, corrupting the legal system and destroying everything good that Nayru had granted to the people. This, he could never condone so, though it pained him, he was forced to carry out the law to the end.

In all fairness, the mayor next let Liandra speak. She implored the people not to be so foolish. Nayru had granted them law and order, but there was no reason to murder over a simple theft. Many looked away in shame, letting their stones tumble out of their fingers. Still, the vast majority of the villagers glared at her coldly. They remembered all too well what the Kodiak Pride had done to Kasuto. If they allowed Nabooru to steal from them, what would come next? Would the Dragon Pride ride into their town for raids far more violent than their occasional plagues of Heart’s Desire? They could not allow their town to become vulnerable.

When Tertias asked Nabooru if there was anything she wanted to say, she only uttered three words. “I am innocent.” This rattled the villagers far more than Liandra’s scolding. Up until this point, Nabooru had been unnaturally silent about her culpability in the matter. But now, with those three words, she cast far more doubt than an entire tirade on the nature of good and evil. Even Tertias seemed rattled, as he slowly unrolled the scroll, reading about the declaration made by the judge and jury of Nabooru’s trial, his hands shook violently, shaking the paper.

At last, the final word, the word of death, was read aloud. Tertias bowed his head, then turned to the guards. At once, they began to push the Gerudo women out of the way of the pedestal. The woman ranted and raved, fighting against the force, but they were overcome. Tertias looked up at Nabooru, the proud, extraordinary woman. He was soon forced to look away, removing himself from the line of fire. Her fate was in the hands of the crowd now, who began to slowly converge, stones in hand.

“Wait!” a voice cried. As one, the villagers turned to see two figures approaching from around the pond. Nebekah led, her feet pounding the ground with great force, sending a cloud of dust up behind her which fell into Link’s face as he struggled to keep up. “Stop!” he shouted. “We have new evidence!”

Tertias held up his hands, halting the villagers before they could throw their stones. “Link, this isn’t a trial,” he said. “It’s an execution.”

“You have to hold it off,” Link said. “We’ve found the real thief.”

“It’s out of my hands, Link,” the mayor insisted, “the law clearly states that –”

“I know what the law says,” Link told him. He and Nebekah had reached the square. With one leap, Link jumped up onto the pedestal, standing in front of Nabooru and shielding her from any harm. “And Nayru gave us the law, didn’t she?”

“Of course,” Tertias said.

“She gave us the law to protect the innocent. And I declare that Alpha Nabooru of the Dragon Pride is innocent. To kill her would be a far worse crime than to listen to what I have to say.”

“We know where the statue is,” Nebekah told the crowd. “And we’ve caught the real thief.”

“Let Nebekah show you what we’ve found,” Link implored Tertias. “If we’re lying, then you can carry out your justice as you see fit. It’s not a lot to ask.”

Tertias sputtered. “Link…I don’t know if I…”

And suddenly, Link felt himself possessed, by what, he couldn’t say for certain. “I am your Hero of Time,” he roared. “I have fought on your behalf. And I have never once betrayed your trust. I implore you, in the name of all the services I have rendered Hyrule, do this for me now. Do not let an innocent woman die. If you do so, it will be as if nothing I did for you mattered.” Everyone was stunned to silence. Much to Link’s surprise, the nightmare demons of his memory didn’t even respond to this. Even they deferred, bowing away at the sound of his invocation.

“All right, Link,” Tertias said softly. “All right.” He turned to his guards, holding the Gerudo at bay. “Two of you, take Nabooru back into custody. The rest of you, follow me. We’ll go and see what they have to show us.”

“I’ll show you the way,” Nebekah said.

Tertias turned to address the people. “Go,” he told them. “Return to your homes. Go about your lives. There will be no execution here today.” If he expected any groans of protest, none came. It seemed that Link’s words had moved the people. They all dropped their stones, slowly shuffling away, almost as if in deepest of shame over what they had nearly done.

“Come on,” Nebekah told Tertias. “This way.” And she began to lead them back around the pond, on a third trek up to the clearing of Ari’s cabin.

Link turned around to face Nabooru. She was smiling at him. “What?” he asked awkwardly.

“I’m proud,” she said. “Proud to call you my friend.”

He shrugged. “I just…”

“I know why you haven’t come to visit me in a year, Link,” she said. “I know that you’ve been struggling with what happened. I know because I have too. But what you did just now…you owned up to it, to your destiny, to your fate, and in doing that, to your past.”

“Oh.”

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. Just do something for me, all right? Be the great Alpha you’ve always been.”

“Please, give me my Shard back.”

He frowned. “I…I need to borrow it. We have to fight against –”

“Twinrova. I know. Just for a moment.”

Link reached into his pocket and pulled out the Shard, gently placing it into her palm. “Here.”

“There is an ancient ceremony,” she told him, “when the Shard is handed on to a new keeper.” She put a hand on his forehead. “Ashar nat’tan lanu, torat emmet.” Carefully, she placed the Shard back in his hand, closing his fingers tightly over it. “We don’t even know what it means any more.”

“I do,” Link said softly.

“You do?”

“It’s Hylian. It means, ‘…though it cannot be seen, it can be felt…’ The fourth part of the riddle…”

Nabooru smiled wryly. “Sounds like you’ve been on quite the adventure.”

“You have no idea,” he told her.

“Link, there’s something I feel the need to tell you.”

“What?”

“I understand that you’ve been with Alpha Medea of the Orca Pride.”

“A bit,” he said.”

“I know her. Or…knew her once. And I think you should know that long ago, I have her something that you might be interested in.”

“Mika?” Link asked.

She blinked in surprise. “You know?”

“Like you said, it’s been quite the adventure.”

“I’ll wager,” she mused, “that it is far from over.”

“I think you’re right.” And Link smiled. The demons were no longer sniggering in the corners of his mind. No. They were gone like a bad dream. He wasn’t sure how it had happened, but somehow, he had finally made peace with them. Perhaps Nabooru was right, perhaps it had something to do with finally admitted everything that he was because that was the culmination of everything he had been through. Now, he felt ready to go through more, to become something greater. He was ready.