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