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.