It had been nearly a year since Link last got a decent night’s sleep, but since heading out for Kodiak territory, Link was surprised to find that he could sleep soundly.  It was refreshing really.  When it was his turn to take over the watch, he felt full of energy, ready to charge off to the Kodiak fortress, save for the fact that the majority of his companions were exhausted.  They had been traveling all day.  Unfortunately, the Kodiak lived in a very remote part of the Gerudo Valley and without horses, it was quite the trek.  Link didn’t mind though.  Now that he was sleeping again, somehow, the long march didn’t seem so bad.  Of course, he knew why he was sleeping now.  The nightmares were gone.  This had the duel effect of both enhancing his energy and leaving him with a constant, satisfied smirk that annoyed the others to no end.  Except perhaps, Nebekah, which is probably why she had elected to take the second watch with him, rather than get some sleep herself.

            The two of them sat close together, huddling around the fire for a bit of warmth.  Link was curiously examining the Topaz in his hands.  It was nearly assembled now, only one final piece was missing.  He could already imagine what sort of shape it would take once it was together.  What he still couldn’t imagine was the answer to the strange riddle that had been accompanying the Shards.  Again and again, he whispered the words softly with Nebekah, trying to make sense out of it.  “‘One thing stands between the stone and the grave…’”

            “‘…it cannot be held, yet it can fill the air…’” Nebekah continued for him.

            “‘…everyone who wants it can find it…’”

            She sighed.  “And ‘…though it cannot be seen, it can be felt…’”  She shook her head.  “Still nothing.”

            “Maybe we’re saying it in the wrong order?” Link supposed.

            “I don’t know.  It makes sense to me.  Clearly, the riddle we got from the Orca is the first part.”

            “Well, I guess so…”

            “And I don’t think it matters too much what order the other parts are in.  They seem to be flowing in one continuous sentence, describing…something.”

            “I just wish we know what something was.”

            “Well, whatever it is, it’s apparently going to keep us alive if Twinrova get their hands on the Topaz.”

            “We’re not going to let that happen,” Link said firmly.

            “No,” she agreed, “it’s not.”

            “Although we still need to know what the answer is.  Whatever can keep us alive might also keep them alive.”

            “They do love to cheat death.”

            “I know,” he sighed.  “It’s just so unfair.”

            Nebekah laughed, a pleasant smile exaggerating her beauty somewhat in the firelight.  “We’ll get them, blondie.  Don’t worry.”  She glanced out at their sleeping companions.  “Between the five of us, there’s no way those crazy hags are getting close to the Topaz.”

            “That’s not true,” Link said.  “You remember what Alpha Medea said.  We’re going to have to use the Topaz to kill them.  They’ll have to be close to it.”

            “I guess so,” Nebekah admitted.

            “Well, let’s worry about that bridge when we come to it.”

            She nodded.  “You’ve got enough trouble looming ahead of you without having to worry about the Twinrova sisters.”

            “What do you mean?”

            “The Kodiak.”

            “Nebekah,” he said, “I know you don’t like them.  They killed your mother and I understand that –”

            “No,” she cut him off.

            “No?”

            “This isn’t about my mother, blondie.”

            “Then what is it about?”

            “Even if they had never come near my Pride, never led that attack, never submitted to Ganondorf Dragmire, I would still hate them, as would many of my Jaguar sisters.”

            “Why?”

            “Their nature is contrary to everything good and honorable.  They’re barely Gerudo except by blood.”

            “What do you mean?”

            “How much do you really know about the Kodiak?” she asked.  “Beyond your battles with Dragmire?”

            Link shrugged.  “Not that much,” he admitted.  “The whole Ganondorf thing sort of consumed my focus.”

            “And that’s how it should have been.  But now is the time to educate you about the nature of the Kodiak.”

            “All right,” he said.  “Enlighten me.  What are the notorious Kodiak Gerudo like in nature?”

            “Infernalists,” Nebekah said darkly.

            “What does that mean?”

            “For your purposes,” she said, “they enjoy destruction.”

            “For my purposes?”

            “None of them really objected to Ganondorf’s idea about conquering all of Hyrule,” she explained.

            “Oh.”

            “There are no heroic tales of any Kodiak standing up to him, or even saying no to him, for that matter.”

            “Too bad,” Link muttered.  “Can you think of how history would have been changed if someone stood in his way before he got to Hyrule?”

            “Well, you wouldn’t be here now, would you?”

            “I guess not.”

            “Anyway, what you have to keep in mind is that the Kodiak welcomed Twinrova into their Pride back then, blondie.  The sisters were responsible for Ganondorf’s conception, birth, and upbringing.  And the Kodiak allowed it all because they thought it would bring glory to their Pride.  The trouble with the Kodiak is that they mistake attention for glory.  And when Ganondorf got them the attention they wanted, they followed him, doing his bidding, hoping to get more.  When he said conquer, they conquered.  When he said destroy, they destroyed.”

            Link too a moment to let these words sink in.  “Wow,” he murmured.  “They’re like little children.  They’ll take negative attention over none at all.”

            “At least they were.  They’ve been quite lately.  Sapphia insists that they’ve changed.”

            “Do you believe her?”

            “Sapphia has proven herself honorable in our dealings with the other Prides,” Nebekah said with a slightly shrug.  “As for the rest of her people, well, we’ll just have to see.”

            “What else do I need to know about them?” Link asked.

            “They follow some savage practices,” Nebekah told him.  “Particularly when it comes to internal fighting.”

            “What do you mean?”

            “They move up in rank through assassination.”

            “So that’s true,” Link sighed.  He recalled hearing this once before from a woman who he thought was the Jaguar Gamma, Deidre.  Unfortunately, she had turned out to be Koume, but Link didn’t even think of mentioning that incident to Nebekah.  Not when it had cost her so much.

            “Their chain of command is quite complicated,” Nebekeha continued.  “Each of the ranking officers, the Alpha, Beta, Gamma, and healer, employ private warriors among the Deltas.”

            “What do you mean?”

            “Each Delta, when she comes of age, pledges her loyalty to one of the four highest ranking officers.  This is a way of keeping powers in check.  But it also provides each of the top Gerudo with a private body guard of trained assassins to do their bidding.  It’s a sort of cold war.  The threat of open combat keeps each of the leaders from doing anything too rash.”

            Link’s head was starting to spin with all the information.  “It sounds so complicated,” he muttered.

            “It is complicated,” she said.  “Which is probably why the Kodiak did so well with Dragmire.  They were all united under a single leader.”

            “So how do they feel about men?  Are Tyro and I in trouble?”

            “I think they keep male slaves,” she said.  “But I’m not sure they’re particularly bigoted.  Not like the Orca.”

            “Well, that’s something.”

            “Given the fact that Sarjenka handed her title as Alpha over to a man, I’m certain she’ll at least be willing to talk to you.  Assuming she’s not hot to avenge his death.  I imagine she was one of his lovers.”

            “Sarjenka?”

            “The Alpha of the Kodiak.”

            “What do you know of her?”

            Nebekah smiled fiercely.  “A great warrior,” she mused.  “We faced each other in battle a few times.  She nearly took my ear off once.”  Nebekah ran her fingers along the delicate arch of her pointed ear.  “It’s a pity, really.”

            “What?”

            “That such a great warrior could be born to such a dishonorable Pride.”

            “I don’t know,” he said.  “Sounds to me like you need to be a warrior just to survive in there.”

            “True enough.”

            “I’m glad we have Sapphia with us,” Link said.  “We’ll have an easier time getting an audience with Sarjenka.  And she’s bound to listen to her own Beta, isn’t she?”

            “I hope so,” Nebekah sighed.  “Still, it’s an extreme request, you know.  Asking for a Shard.”

            “Still…the Kodiak sent Sapphia to warn the other Prides about Twinrova.  It seems to me that they’re just as eager to stop the sisters as we are.”

            “That’s true,” Nebekah supposed.  “Which might be a sign of hope.  Maybe they really have changed.”  She shook her head.  “I never would have thought it.”

            “You’d be surprised how things can change,” Link told her.  Leaning back on his hands, he looked up at the stars above, thinking vaguely of the changes in his own life.  Fondly, he remembered a pudgy, nine year old boy who first climbed a tree to star up at the same sky, dreaming of being like all the other Kokiri.  That little boy had no idea what he was facing, no concept of the horrors of Ganondorf Dragmire and Twinrova, no notion of the pleasures of deep friendships with Princess Zelda and Nebekah, no idea that somewhere, probably watching the same sky, was a sister he had yet to meet.  Link, on the other side of that memory, was glad to know it all, even the horrors.  That was something else that had changed within him as well.

 

            The next morning, Link was the first ready to go.  He obnoxiously nagged the others, urging them to get a move on.  Nebekah was highly amused by his enthusiasm, but she sensed that the others were less than thrilled.  She had noticed an odd tension among them since she and Link returned from Kakariko with Nabooru.  Of course, Link must have noticed it too, but if he wasn’t saying anything, Nebekah certainly wasn’t about to.  Still, she couldn’t help but watch the way that Tyro, Sapphia, and Mika all seemed completely withdrawn, avoiding eye contact with one another, and generally silently following along with anything the other two said.

            They were on the move soon, the silent trek punctuated only by brief warnings about a sudden change in terrain or Link’s exasperated sighs at the sluggishness of the others as he bounded ahead.  Soon, the Kodiak fortress appeared before them on the horizon.  The mere sight of it sent Link on another wind and he was off, hurrying along to the stronghold before the rest of them even realized it was there.  “Slow down, blondie!” Nebekah called with a laugh.  None of the others were amused.

            Eventually, they managed to catch up with Link.  Nebekah could now clearly make out the Kodiak fortress.  It was not how she had imagined it from her many encounters with the Kodiak.  Somehow, she had envisioned a high castle with four towers and a drawbridge falling over a moat.  There was little grandeur to this place.  The building was really a compound with a series of six smaller buildings surrounding an oasis courtyard that was roofed with a sheet of glass.  The buildings were all squat, stone structures, no more than one story above the ground, though she imagined there were probably basements and dungeons build into the foundation below.  There appeared to be no windows, not even on the large wooden door that faced out toward the Valley.  Strangely enough, there didn’t appear to be any guards standing watch either.  Nebekah scanned the rooftops, perhaps hoping to catch sight of a Delta pacing back and forth, bow armed and ready, but there was nothing up there but the glint of the sun beaming off of the glass roof of the courtyard.

            “Sapphia,” she said, turning over her shoulder to look at Sapphia.

            “What?” Sapphia replied sullenly.  She seemed to have been eyeing Tyro, but quickly turned to face the stronghold.

            “Where is everyone?  Where are the guards?”

            She frowned, as though she had only just noticed the change herself.  “I…I don’t know…”

            Link had rushed ahead to the door.  Tentatively, he grabbed the iron ring in the middle and gave it a slight tug.  With a soft moan, the door began to swing open toward him.  “Door’s unlocked,” he called, needlessly.

            “I’m assuming this isn’t normal,” Tyro said.

            Sapphia shook her head.  “Nope.”

            “Maybe something’s going on,” Mika supposed.  “Do you think someone’s called a meeting?”

            “We’re not the Orca,” Sapphia said icily.  “When we have meetings, we still leave people on guard duty.”

            “Clearly,” Tyro snapped, gesturing to the empty doorway.

            “What should we do?” Link asked.  “Should we just go in?”

            Nebekah folded her arms, eyeing the doorway critically.  “Maybe Sapphia should go in first.”

            “That works for me,” Tyro mumbled.

            Rolling her eyes, Sapphia walked forward.  She shoved Link out of the way and grabbed the iron ring, pulling the door open all the way.  At once, the five of them were assaulted, not by Delta warriors lying in wait, but by something far stranger.  From inside of the compound, the sound of music wafted out toward them.  It was not the drums or war nor was it ceremonial.  Instead, what they heard was a combination of sitar and lyre, finger cymbals and bells. 

            For all his enthusiasm and vigor, Link was finally stilled.  “Uh…”

            Tyro scrunched up his face.  “Didn’t we just go through this with the Saber Tooth Pride?”

            “Twinrova would never do the same spell twice,” Nebekah said, shaking her head.  “We already know how to break it.”

            “So then how do you explain the happy music?” Tyro countered.

            “I have no idea…”

            “It’s never easy,” Link said with a fierce smile.  He turned to Sapphia.  “Lead the way.”

            Without argument, Sapphia led the way, the others following closely behind her.  They traveled through a small, square tunnel, leading to the main entry way, easily the size of the Orca arena and twice was high.  In the very center of the chamber was an enormous silver fountain, the basin collecting a bounty of water that was spat out of the mouth of a statue of Din, trickling down from each of her extended hands.  The music was louder her, because Nebekah quickly spotted the musicians.  There were some half a dozen Kodiak women sitting on the ledge of the fountain, each playing a different instrument.  They looked nothing like warriors.  Nor did any of the other Kodiak women in the room.

            Indeed, the entire chamber was filled with people, both Gerudo and their male slaves, but their uniforms did not match those names.  All of the people were half naked, draped only in flowing clothes of pinks, blues, and yellows.  They were dancing around the room to the music, laughing and singing, joining hands and spinning in chaotic circles.  All wore wreaths of flowers in their hair.  Several women were standing beside the musicians, strewing flower petals into the air, letting them fall where they may, haphazardly over the floor.

            For a moment, the five travelers stood there, looking completely dumbfounded by the entire scene.  It was only a matter of time, however, before they were spotted.  A perky young Gerudo, her pale red hair cut into a pixie bob, happened to spot them.  “Peace and love!” she cried, racing over to them, her barefoot feet padding against the room, jingling with the clatter of dozens of anklets.  “Welcome!  Welcome!”  A few others spotted her and followed suit, rushing over to the travelers with cries of welcome and enthusiastic smiles.

            “Looks like we have a welcoming committee,” Tyro murmured out of the side of his mouth.

            Link glanced at Nebekah.  “These are the fierce, unforgiving warriors who advance in rank through assassination?”

            All Nebekah could do was shrug.  At once, the welcoming committee had descended upon them.  Burbling, they passed out flowers, crowning each of the travelers with wreaths.  Sapphia waved them away from her, tossing her own wreath to the floor.  “Nala,” she snapped to the girl with the pixie bob, “what’s going on here?”

            “We welcome you to our home, sister,” Nala said.  She threw back her head and let out a wail.  “Love to you all!”

            “Nala, this is my home,” Sapphia said.

            The other girl stared at her curiously.  “Have we met?” she asked.

            Sapphia blinked.  “I’m your Beta.  What’s the meaning of this?”

            “Beta?”  The other girl seemed to think about it for a second.  “Oh!  Yes, the archaic leadership terms, I remember those.  They mean nothing now.  We are all equals here.”

            “Are you felling well?” Sapphia barked.

            “Never better, sister.  Welcome, welcome.”

            “Well, this is interesting,” Tyro deadpanned.

            Growling, Sapphia grabbed Nala’s shoulders.  “Listen to me, I need to talk to Olma.  Is she still here?”

            Nala laughed.  “Of course she’s still here.  We’re all a family together in the stronghold.”

            Roughly, Sapphia released Nala’s shoulders.  She turned to the others.  “I’m going to try and get some answers.  You need to find the Alpha.”  She took off one of her gauntlets, handing it over to Nebekah.  “Show this to her and you won’t have any trouble.”

            Nebekah took the gauntlet, looking down at it.  It was embedded with Kodiak designs.  She looked up, about to ask Sapphia how this could possibly identify her, but Sapphia had already left, vanishing into the crowd of dancers.  “Hey blondie.  How are we supposed to find the Alpha when titles no longer have meaning here?”  But when she looked to Link, she realized that he had a slightly different problem.

            A horde of Kodiak girls, scantily clad and spangled with flowers, had gathered around both Link and Tyro.  In low, seductive voices, they were planting kisses across the boys’ faces, cooing gently, and brushing flowers along their chests.  Link had gone beet red and was struggling to get free.  Every time he pulled away from one girl, he would back into another, or turn around and nearly grope another, lying in wait.  Noble to the end, he was sputtering and babbling, trying to get out apologies while at the same time excusing himself.

            Tyro was a different matter.  The second a girl stroked his cheek, he pulled back sharply, roughly pushing her away.  She knocked into another girl, causing a slight domino effect that ended with all of the girls falling upon Link.  Nebekah blinked in surprise.  As she stared at Tyro, she practically didn’t recognize him.  All traces of his haughty smile were gone.  He was giving the girls a cold, angry look.  The moment he noticed both Mika and Nebekah staring at him in surprise, he turned around, walking away from the merriment and disappearing from sight.  Mika and Nebekah exchanged a brief look and then Mika turned, following after him.

            Nebekah turned her attention back to the room, getting slightly nervous as several of the dancing slave boys spotted her and slowly made their way over, offering flowers and greetings of love.  Under normal circumstances, she might have been highly amused to see Gerudo behaving in this manner, but this was different.  These were the Kodiak, her great enemies, the ones who had caused her so much pain and devastation in the past.  These were the warriors who had nearly destroyed the Jaguar Pride, who had deprived Nebekah’s mother of her life.  How dare they flounce about, offering peace and love?  It was a gross parody of true peace.  It was a satire.

            “Take us to your leader!” Nebekah cried.

            “Leader?” Nala asked, turning her attentions away from a bashful Link.

            “Yes, the person in charge.”

            “She must mean, Jadis,” a young man said, reaching out to trail a flower along Nebekah’s shoulder.

            Nebekah knocked the flower away.  “Jadis?” she repeated.

            “The high priestess,” Nala explained.

            “Priestess,” Link said, finally managing to dig his way out of the mount of limbs around him.  “Fine.  Just take us to her.”

            “As you wish, brother,” Nala said reverently.

 

            “Tyro!” Mika chased after Tyro, knocking aside a good dozen Kodiak Deltas who were attempting to offer her flowers.  She had already spotted the back of his head and was fairly certain he had heard her, though he didn’t stop moving until she had finally managed to catch up and plant a firm hand on his shoulder.  “What’s the matter with you?”

            He turned around.  She was surprised to see that the anger in his eyes had given way to a clear distress that she could not begin to explain or comprehend.  “Mika,” he murmured hoarsely.

            “What’s going on?” she asked.

            “I had to get away…I had to…”  He seemed at a loss for words.

            “What upset you so much?”

            “I can’t explain.”

            “They were just girls,” she said.  “You like girls.”

            “I liked girls,” he whispered.

            She paused a moment, noting his past tense.  There was a tightness in her chest that she didn’t like.  It came to her every time she was alone with Tyro, every time she thought about being alone with Tyro, and every time she felt his eyes fall on her face.  “It’s okay,” she told him.

            “No.”

            “No?”

            “Things have not been okay for awhile now.”

            Certainly, Mika couldn’t deny that.  The entire trip to the Kodiak territory had been filled with unusual, strained silences.  Of course, she realized that she was partly to blame for this.  Her mind had been overly occupied with the things she had seen during her stay in the Dragon fortress:  So many of her lost memories had resurfaced there, that she found herself constantly occupied with an ontological question.  Still, she wasn’t the only one who had been a bit self involved lately.  She had taken enough time to notice that Tyro had been rather sullen, almost silent most of the trip.  Not once had he attempted to speak with her or even touch her, a far cry from his slick routine prior to their visit with the Dragons.  The time had come, she realized now, for the long overdue question.

            “What’s the matter, Tyro?”

            Much to her surprise, he laughed.  There was no mirth in it, but it was a laugh nevertheless.  “Oh, what a question!” he chuckled.

            “It’s not that complicated.”

            “Oh, yes it is,” he said.  “Yes it is.”

            “Why?”

            “Because of you.”

            “Me?”

            “It’s complicated because of you!  My entire life has gone all topsy turvy and I have you to thank for it.”

            She folded her arms across her chest.  “And,” she hissed, “just what do you mean by that?”

            Instead of answering her, Tyro suddenly seized Mika in his arms.  With reckless abandon, he kissed her.  She was so surprised that she went rigid a moment, but gradually relaxed, letting the kiss wash over her.  His touch was so warm and inviting, that Mika stopped being concerned that someone would see.  In this merriment anyway, it seemed like the natural thing to do.  She wrapped her arms around his neck, leaning in on the kiss, feeling his pulse knock against her chest.  Tyro’s hands gathered her face, gently pulling her away from his lips.  He stared into her eyes and she saw another wave of pain flash through his gaze.

            “I thought so,” he whispered hoarsely.

            “Thought what?” she asked.

            He shook his head.  “I was afraid of this.”

            “Of what?”

            Gently, he stroked her face, running his hand slowly back, over the thread wraps in her hair.  “Mika,” he said, “I’m in love with you.”

            She blinked.  Certainly, she hadn’t heard him right.  “What?”

            “I love you,” he said.

            “You love me?”

            “I don’t…I don’t know how it happened,” he sputtered.  “It just did.  I can’t help it.  I’m in love with you.  I dream about you, I see you everywhere I go, everywhere I look.  It’s as if you’ve infected me with the way you smell, the way you move, the way you hurt me.  All I do is crave more and I know I shouldn’t because everything about us is contrary, but that just makes me desire you as I’ve never wanted anything in my whole life.”  He paused to take a breath.  “I know,” he said slowly, “that I probably shouldn’t tell you this.  But a small, delusional part of me would never have forgiven myself if I hadn’t said something to you.”

            Time seemed to freeze between the two of them.  Mika stared at Tyro, his words reverberating across time and space between them like the chords of a snare drum.  The strings tightened, pulling the two of them closer and closer together until Mika found herself kissing him once again, feeling his hands run down to the small of her back.  She didn’t know what was happening, she was suddenly outside of herself, watching as her body pressed against Tyro’s.  But no kiss could last forever and as they pulled apart, Mika was drawn back into her flesh.

            “Tyro, I…”

            “No,” he stopped her.  “Don’t say anything.”

            “I have to say it,” she insisted.  “I…” but she trailed off again as something caught her eye over Tyro’s shoulder.  There was a swish of blue fabric from a corner of the bacchanal.  She turned to discover an older Gerudo matron in Orca colors dancing with several of the flower maidens.  “Mother?” she squeaked.

            Tyro turned to follow her gaze.  Just as he did, the dancing woman turned around and the two of them found themselves facing Medea, the Orca Alpha.  But she looked nothing like the woman they had left behind.  Medea danced among the Kodiak, her face beaming with a bright and unnatural smile.  Blossoms dotted her hair, which was flowing freely, unbound by her snood.  There was a vague, distant gaze to her eyes and as they swept over Mika and Tyro, she showed no sign of recognition.

            Briskly, Mika marched forward.  “Mother?” she called, a bit louder this time.

            At the very least, she had managed to catch Medea’s attention.  She halted her dancing, turning to look at the girl with a polite smile.  “Peace and love, sister,” she recited.

            “Mother?” Mika sputtered.  “What are you doing here?”

            “Do I know you?” she asked.

            “Yes!  It’s me.  Mika!”

            “Mika?  That’s a funny name.”

            This struck Mika like a cold dousing of water.  She instantly remembered her flashback in the Dragon fortress, when her three year old counterpart first heard Medea’s voice call Mika a funny name.  “I’m your daughter,” she said harshly.  “You took me in at a price of peace with the Dragon Pride.”

            Medea shook her head.  “No…that doesn’t sound at all familiar.  But peace is such a wonderful thing.  Peace and love to you too, brother,” she added with a smile at Tyro.

            “She’s gone mental,” Tyro mumbled.

            “She’s acting like all of the other people in here,” Mika hissed.

            “We are all truly alike, under the skin,” Medea said dreamily.

            “That’s not what you said when you held me prisoner,” Tyro deadpanned, folding his arms across his chest.

            “Prisoner?” Medea repeated.  She let out a soft, delicate laugh.  “You must be mistaking me for someone else, brother.  I prefer to exist in peace and harmony with all living things.”

            “What are you talking about?” Mika cried.  “You’re a warrior, and the finest Alpha Orca Pride has seen in a good two hundred years!”

            “Prides and titles have no meaning here,” Medea said breezily.  “We are all equals in the eyes of the goddess.”  She threw a handful of petals into the air.  “Excuse me now, I have to go.  It’s nearly lunch time.”  And with that, she turned around, slipping back into the crowd.

            Mika’s shoulders slumped.  She stood there, unable to move, unable to speak, watching as her mother, the woman who had raised her, brought her up and taught her everything worth knowing, vanished, as if she had never seen Mika before and never intended to see her again.  She felt Tyro behind her.  Gently, he placed his hands on her shoulders and didn’t say a word.

 

            Jadis turned out to be a rather corpulent Gerudo woman in her late forties.  When Link and Nebekah were brought to her, she gave both of them bone crunching hugs, pulling Link’s head a bit too close to her ample bosom for his tastes.  Immediately, she invited the two of them to join her for lunch.  They were seated at a low table, resting on pillows rather than chairs.  Around the table sat dreamy-eyed Gerudo women, longingly slurping up their drinks and smiling pleasantly at the strangers.

            “As you can see,” Jadis told them as she settled herself on an elaborate pile of silk pillows, “we prefer to take our meals together.  We feel that it promotes peace and harmony in the family.”

            Link threw a sideways glance at Nebekah.  She was rolling her eyes.  He turned back to Jadis, attempting to give her a civil smile.  “So you’re the Kodiak priestess of Din?” he asked.  Nebekah had told him stories, in the days gone by, of a great temple dedicated to Din, somewhere in the farthest reaches of the Gerudo Valley.  This was supposed to be neutral territory where the high priestess reigned supreme over all Alphas who came to visit her.

            She threw her head back, laughing boisterously.  “You silly boy!” she cried giggled.

            He raised an eyebrow.  “Did I say something funny?”

            “Din!” she croaked.

            “That’s the Gerudo patron goddess,” Link said with a second glance at Nebekah.  She looked very serious this time, offended at Jadis and her laughter.

            “Din is the goddess of power,” Jadis said, gesturing for the servers to begin bringing in the food.  “She is a war goddess, a goddess of hardships and hard times for all who follow her ways and their poor victims.”

            “She’s more than that,” Nebekah said icily.

            “To some, I suppose,” Jadis said with a slight nod.  “But she has brought bad consequences to the Kodiak in the past for following her ways.”

            “She blessed the Gerudo people with their great power!” Nebekah declared angrily.

            “She has been a curse, tethering us to the old ways,” Jadis replied.

            “If you’re not the high priestess of Din,” Link cut in before Nebekah could respond, “then what deity do you follow?”

            “I am the high priestess of the goddess Yakut,” Jadis explained.  The servers began to pour into the room with the meal.  “The goddess of good fortune and luck.  A truly noble deity.”

            A platter was set down before Link with the tingle of gold.  Small portions of rice and beans littered the plate, but they were so thin he could see the designs engraved on the face, depicting the Gerudo crescent, accompanied by elaborate decoration.  “I see the deity has afforded you a luxurious life,” he mumbled, running his finger along the rim of the plate.

            “If it were my choice, I would serve the goddess a destitute,” Jadis said.  She shrugged.  “Such is the will of the goddess.”

            Link raised an eyebrow at this smarmy answer, but said nothing.  Beside him, he noticed Nebekah moving around the food on her plate, sulkily avoiding all eye contact with Jadis.  He knew she was burning with questions, doubtlessly the same questions that he wanted to ask.  He was somewhat grateful that she was leaving it to him, however.  This was a delicate situation.  “The Kodiak are not like I expected,” he told Jadis carefully.

            “Yes, in the past we have garnered something of a reputation,” Jadis admitted with a dip of her head.  “Please, eat.”

            “What’s happened to change all that?” Link pressed.

            “We have renounced our warlike ways,” Jadis said, “and dedicated our lives to peace and prosperity under the watchful protection of Yakut.  She is protective of us, having descended to the mortal world to live among us.”

            Link’s eyes flashed up.  “Yakut lives in the Kodiak compound?”

            “Yes,” Jadis replied.

            “Then what does she need a high priestess for?”

            For a moment, Link was certain he saw Jadis bristle, but she quickly smiled again.  “The goddess speaks in tongues,” Jadis explained.  “It is my duty to serve her by relaying her messages to the people.”

            “I see…”

            “Please, eat.  Enjoy our hospitality.”  She clapped a hand to her forehead.  “Gracious.  I haven’t even thought to ask your names.”  She gave them another slick smile.  “Please, what may I call you?”

            Without missing a beat, Link replied, “Mido.”
            “Mido,” she repeated.  “Welcome to our home, brother.  And you, my dear?” she turned to Nebekah.

            “I am Nebekah, daughter of Elena,” Nebekah replied.

            “Welcome to you as well, sister Nebekah.”

            “I’m not your sister,” Nebekah hissed, but Link quickly drowned out the sound of her voice by dropping his cup with as much of a clatter as he could produce.

            “Oops,” he muttered, leaning over to pick it up.

            “Tell me,” Jadis continued, apparently missing Nebekah’s comment, “What brings you to our peaceful little commune?  Are you interested in joining up with us and living here?”

            “Maybe later,” Link said.  “I guess we need to learn more, first.”

            “A wise decision,” Jadis told him.  “I assure you, you may ask anything you like.  I think you will find that our home is one of peaceful bliss and harmony.”

            Link carefully cleared his throat.  “So, what happened to Sarjenka?”

            “Sarjenka, brother?”

            “Yes, your Alpha.”

            “You’ve heard of her,” Nebekah deadpanned.

            “Yes, of course,” Jadis said.  She sighed softly.  “I’m afraid that a peaceful society means dissolving warrior and officer titles and positions,” she explained.  “The role of Alpha, Beta, and Gamma are no longer required to run our society.  Everything now operates according to the will of Yakut.  It’s a much easier way of doing things when we’re all unified under a single leader.”

            Link felt almost sick to his stomach, realizing that he had had the same thought not too long ago.  “I see.”

            “But please, I know how remote our lands are.  It must have been quite the journey trying to get here.  Eat.  Refresh yourselves.”

            Nebekah leaned over, sniffing at her food.  Frankly, Link wasn’t all that hungry, but he politely picked up a lavish, gold fork and speared a few beans.  He was about to eat when Nebekah suddenly put a hand on his wrist.  “What?” he asked.

            “You’re allergic to that, remember?”

            He blinked.  “Allergic?”

            “Yes, beans are terrible for you.  They make you break out in hives.  You know that.”

            “They do?”

            “Yes.”

            “Oh…right…”  Link had no idea what she was talking about, but from the earnest look on Nebekah’s face, he went along with it.

            “Perhaps we can get you something else?” Jadis asked.

            “We hate to eat and run,” Nebekah said, standing up.  Link followed suit.  “But we really need to eat and run.  Would you mind it horribly if we looked around your compound a little bit?”

            “Be my guest,” Jadis told them.

            “Thank you,” Nebekah said.  She looked as though she were about to cross her wrists in a Gerudo salute, but stopped herself.  She clapped a hand on Link’s shoulder and pulled him out of the dining room.

            Link followed her silently, the two of them making their way past a variety of dancing people, strewing flowers across the chamber.  Finally, they found a small corner, near an entrance to the courtyard where more festivities were taking place.  “What was that about?” Link hissed.

            “There was something wrong with the food,” she said.

            “What do you mean?”

            “It smelled sweet.”

            “Sweet?”

            “Yeah.  It wasn’t right.  Flowery.”

            “Do you think she’s trying to drug us?” Link asked.

            Nebekah didn’t answer right away.  Her eyes scanned the compound, drinking in the sight of the crazed dancers.  “Of course,” she whispered fiercely.

            “What?”

            “It all makes perfect sense!”

            “Would you mind sharing?”

            “Lotus blossoms!”

            “Lotus blossoms?”

            “The petals of the lotus flower have chemicals in them.  It’s a powerful sort of opiate,” she explained.

            “Opiate?”

            “Plays tricks on the memory.  And let’s just say, it makes the mind incredibly maliable.”

            “I really don’t like the sound of that,” Link muttered.

            “It makes perfect sense.  Somehow, she’s been slipping lotus flower into all of the food.  It explains why everyone’s behaving in such an extraordinary manner.  They’re all drugged!”

            “How could one person possibly carry this off?” Link wondered.

            “I don’t know,” she admitted.  “But that’s not important right now.  We need to find the others.”

            “The others?  Why?”

            “To warn them not to eat!”

 

            *You’re absolutely certain?* Kotake thought, projecting her voice telepathically across the Gerudo Valley.

            *Certain,* the vessel’s voice replied, reverberating pleasantly in Kotake’s head.  If her old body had been able to, she might have skipped, she was so pleased with the news.

            *That’s excellent,* Kotake’s mind cried.

            *I await further instruction.*

            *How close is the Hero to assembling the Topaz?* she asked.

            *He has four pieces.  The last one might prove a bit difficult.  The Kodiak have lost their collective minds.*

            A glimmer of satisfaction burned inside of Kotake’s chest.  The vessel had, of course, already informed her of the goings on at the Kodiak fortress.  After the way Kotake and Koume had been treated by Alpha Sarjenka, however, Kotake felt no sympathy for any trouble caused for the wretched Kodiak.  Though allies they had been in the past, now, they were not to be trusted.  No more than any other Gerudo who was not a party to the plan.  *See to it that the Topaz is assembled,* Kotake instructed the vessel.  *And be certain that there are no witnesses left who might suspect something of our plan.*

            *Understood.*

            *Good…good…this pleases me very much.  Our great king’s return is close at hand.*

            *Yes.*

            *Be ready.  As soon as everything falls into place, we will make our first move.  You’ll know when.*

            *I shall be ready.*

            *Good.  Now go, take care of any unnecessary loose ends.  And remember, the Hero must remain alive for the time being.*

            *Of course.*

            *We’ll see you soon.*

            With that, Kotake pulled her hand away from the telepathy tile, feeling the immense power of the instrument slowly dissolve from her tired old limbs.  She rubbed her gnarled hands together, feeling how cold they were, how boney, brittle, and old.  Despite it all, she couldn’t help but smile, nay, laugh with joy.  Things had taken such a fortunate turn.  Now, the plan could speed up immeasurably.  Joy was exploding within her.

            “What’s the matter with you?” Koume’s voice croaked.  Kotake turned to see her sister slink into the chamber, still sporting her comical horizontal wrinkles, evidence of her latest attempt to make herself young again.

            “I’ve just spoken with the vessel,” Kotake told her with a smile.

            Koume’s invisible eyebrows raised.  “Oh?”

            “Yes?”

            “What did she have to say?”

            “Only good news, my sister.”

            “Good news?”

            “Yes!”

            “Well?  What is it?”

            “Twilight draws near for our Hero,” Kotake said triumphantly.

            “How near?”

            “With any luck, he could be dead by the end of the week!”

            Koume blinked.  “You mean…”

            “Yes!”

            “So quickly?”

            “Well, we’ll have to be sure of course.”

            “When?”

            “Soon as the Topaz falls into our possession.”

            “How long do you think that will be?” Koume asked.

            “They have four pieces now,” Kotake said.  “And they’re working on the fifth right now.”

            “Which one is the fifth?”

            “Sarjenka’s Shard.”

            “Oh, I hope they mash her to bits,” Koume sneered.

            “As do I, sister.”

            “Where are they now?”

            “The Kodiak stronghold.”

            “Then, there should be no trouble at all,” Koume mumbled.  “They travel with the Kodiak Beta, do they not?”

            Kotake scowled.  “Unfortunately, as I understand it, there is trouble within the Kodiak lair.”

            “Trouble?  What sort of trouble?  There can’t be trouble, not now.  Not when our hour is so close at hand!”

            “Calm yourself, sister.”

            “What’s going on?” Koume demanded.

            “It seems,” Kotake explained, “that there has been a sort of coupe within the Kodiak.”

            “Well, that’s nothing new.  They’re always changing around their chain of command.”

            “Not the typical sort of Kodiak coupe,” Kotake corrected her.  “Alpha Sarjenka still lives, as far as I understand it, but she’s been usurped.”

            “By who?”

            “Jadis.”

            “The priestess of Din?”

            “Yes.”

            Koume wrinkled up her forehead, making it look like a rotten peach.  “That’s odd.”

            “Odd or not, it is what it is.  Jadis has taken over and declared the entire Kodiak nation to be under the jurisdiction of Yakut.”

            “Who’s Yakut?”

            Kotake shrugged her boney shoulders.  “Apparently, the goddess of good fortune.”

            “I’ve never heard of such a goddess.  Nonsense.”

            “It is of no concern to us.”

            “Why do you say that?”

            “It has nothing to do with the Shard!  And as far as I can tell, the Hero is in no mortal danger.  Not with his pesky friends and our vessel looking out for him.  The coupe is inconsequential.”

            “I disapprove of the worship of these modern day gods and goddesses from the outside world,” Koume said with a sniff.

            “Well, it hardly matters,” Kotake told her angrily.  “Soon enough, the Kodiak, and the rest of the Gerudo will be under our control.”

            “No respect for tradition whatsoever!” Koume sniffed.  “I should go down there and teach them a lesson.”  She turned around, as if to leave.  Kotake felt her heart leap into her throat.  At once, she conjured a fireball, sending it down into the floor right in front of Koume.  “Hey!”

            “You mustn’t go there, Koume!”

            “Why not?”

            “Things are in a delicate balance now, my sister.  To disrupt them could ruin everything we’ve worked for.”

            “The Gerudo are worshipping Human gods!” Koume cried in complete indignation.

            “It’s only temporary.  Relax, Koume.  Everything will be seen to in good time.  Trust me.”

            “I don’t know how you can stomach the thought.”

            “Do not mistake my standstill for agreement.  They will be properly punished for what they’ve done.  But it has to wait.”

            “For what?”

            “For Ganondorf’s return.”

            “But that will take so long!”

            “We can accelerate it.”

            Koume blinked.  “We can?”

            “At least to the point where we’ll be able to rid ourselves of the vessel,” Kotake assured her.  “Besides, after being alive for four hundred years, another couple of decades is nothing.”

            Taking a deep breath, Koume nodded.  “All right.  All right.  We’ll wait and do things your way.  But you promise me that the Kodiak will be properly punished for this crime?”

            “I imagine,” Kotake said with a bit of a laugh, “the Hero will take care of punishing Jadis for us.  You know how he is.”

            “Always the Hero,” Koume sighed.

            “Always.”

 

            Tyro would always wonder for the rest of his life what Mika had meant to say to him back in the entry hall, after he declared that he loved her.  In his heart of hearts, he hoped that she was going to tell him the same thing, but now, he would never know.  In the wake of the awful shock of finding Medea among the revelers, whatever it was, Mika had forgotten about it now.  He knew better than to press the matter.  Seeing her surrogate mother had distressed her something awful and he imagined it didn’t help that Medea hadn’t even recognized her.  He decided, instead, to take the comforting route, offering to be a pillar of strength for her to lean against, though the truth of the matter was that Tyro knew he wasn’t all that strong.

            For a good long while after Medea departed, Tyro remained where he was, his hands on Mika’s shoulders, allowing her to process whatever it was that had just happened.  He watched her face, wishing he could get some hint of what she was thinking.  Whatever it was, he knew it was probably tumultuous and he wished desperately to take away her pain, but he couldn’t.  Finally, without really exchanging any kind of consensus, the two of them made their way out into the covered courtyard in between the buildings of the compound. 

The afternoon sun fell through the glass, and reflected back off of it, making the entire area incredibly hot.  Tyro wondered at the wisdom of a covered courtyard in the middle of a desert Valley, but he imagined that the Gerudo certainly had their reasons for doing things.  He was loathe to find a reason for all of the inane merriment though.  Out in the courtyard, the Gerudo women and their slaves danced around lily ponds and palm trees, around and about the other buildings, in and out of the open doorways.  On the far end of the courtyard was a slightly taller building with a balcony just beneath the glass roof, overlooking the festivities.  There waved a banner, boasting the familiar of a deity Tyro had never heard of called Yakut.

The two of them stood amazed, watching the scene play out before them, but before long, Tyro glanced over to one side and chanced to spot Link and Nebekah walking out, leaning close to each other and whispering with nervous glances at the dancers.  Gently, he nudged Mika, indicating the two of them.  Together, they walked over.  Link and Nebekah spotted them.  Wordlessly, the group moved off to one side.  Along the way, dozens of very pretty Kodiak women offered them flowers and streamers.  It was really getting quite old, forcing them away.  But Tyro was probably the most annoyed.  Frankly, he had absolutely had it with women foisting themselves upon him.  He was not quite ready to forgive Sapphia for deceiving him back in the Dragon stronghold.

“Listen,” Link told them urgently once they had managed to secure a reasonable amount of privacy, under the shade of a lone palm tree.  “Whatever you do, don’t eat any of the food here.”

“Why?” Tyro asked.  “What’s wrong with the food?”

“It’s been laced with lotus blossoms,” Nebekah said.

“Lotus blossoms?”

“An opiate.  It’s not lethal but…”

“It’s bad for you?” Tyro concluded.

“Yeah.”

“Good to know.”

“We met with Jadis,” Link went on.  “She seems to have taken over from Alpha Sarjenka.  She’s the high priestess.”

“The high priestess?” Mika repeated.  “The one who maintains the temple of Din?”

“At some point she was.  Now she’s turned the entire Kodiak compound into a commune dedicated to the worship of Yakut,” Nebekah said bitterly, indicating the banner with a jerk of her head, her dreadlocks flipping haphazardly in the air.

“Noticed that,” Tyro muttered.  “Who’s Yakut?”

“The goddess of luck,” Nebekah explained to them.  “I’ve never heard of her before.”

“She’s primarily worshipped in several Human kingdoms to the east of Hyrule,” Link supplied.  “But apparently, she’s taken up residence right here in the Gerudo Valley.”

“Well,” Mika sniffed.  “Only an opiate would explain why Gerudo would turn against Din.”

“Or why your mother didn’t recognize you,” Tyro added.

“What?” Nebekah hissed.

Link raised an eyebrow.  “Your mother?”

Mika threw a deadly look at Tyro, but he knew he had to continue now.  “We ran into Alpha Medea.  She had no idea who we were.  I don’t even think she knew who she was.”

“Hmmm…”  Nebekah folded her arms across her chest.  “She must have been on a diplomatic trip here.  Hospitality demands that a visitor is fed, after all.  She must have ingested the lotus blossoms.”

“So what do we do now?” Tyro asked.

Before anyone could answer, however, a sudden and unnatural hush fell over the crowd.  Even the music stopped.  Everyone’s attention had turned to the balcony on the far building, so Tyro looked up as well.  A large woman with a long red braid had appeared there.  “That’s Jadis,” Link told them softly.

Jadis held up her hands, though the crowd was already silent.  “The goddess Yakut!”

In unison, the gathered followers of Yakut began to hum, holding their hands up and waving them back and forth in some kind of reverence.  Jadis backed away to one side of the balcony and suddenly, from within the building, Yakut emerged.  “No way,” Tyro said.

The goddess that arrived on the balcony could not have older than twelve.  She was a delicate little thing, with long Hylian ears, and pale red hair which was pulled back into a tight bun at the back of her head with a gold diadem around her forehead.  Her clothing consisted merely of a white shift, over which, dozens of gold bangles and beads glittered from her neck, waist, wrists, and arms.  She walked with her arms folded across her chest, like a woman in a portrait.  Perhaps the most horrifying part of her visage, however, was the fact that her eyes looked completely clouded over, as though she were lost in some kind of permanent trance that never lifted.

“She’s a child,” Nebekah hissed.

“Barely out of diapers,” Tyro replied.  All around him, the inane worship continued.

“She’s not saying anything,” Mika pointed out.

Link nodded.  “And look at her eyes.  She must be severely drugged.  Enough lotus blossom to keep her shut up.”

“That can’t be healthy,” Nebekah sighed.

“Who is she?” Tyro asked.  Everyone turned to look at him.  “I mean, obviously, she’s not a goddess.  She’s just a kid.”

“She’s Gerudo,” Nebekah said.

“Well, I’d think so.  But still, they don’t recognize her.  Does that mean she’s not a Kodiak?”

Nebekah scowled.  “I have no idea.”

“We need to get to the bottom of this.  That poor kid.  That’s no way to live, half asleep all the time.”

“You’re right,” Link said.  He turned to Nebekah.  “Is there any cure for the effects of lotus blossom?”

She shrugged.  “I don’t know.  You might try asking a healer.”

He nodded.  “That’s not a bad idea.”  He took a deep breath.  “Okay, listen up.  I’m going to go find the healer, see if I can learn anything about the lotus blossoms.  Assuming, of course, that she isn’t drugged herself.”

“Then what are you going to do?” Mika asked.

“I’m going to try to get to Yakut, see if I can cure her.”

“Link, you shouldn’t do that alone,” Mika told him.

“She’s right, blondie,” Nebekah said with a nod.  “I’ll bet they watch over her like a hawk.”

“All the more reason why it’ll be easier for one person to get in than for four people,” he pointed out.

“True,” Nebekah conceded.

Tyro folded his arms across his chest, glancing at Link.  “Well, what are we supposed to do?”

“I think a big priority has to be finding Sarjenka,” Link said.  “Remember, we’re still looking for the Shard.”

“Right,” Nebekah agreed.

“You know what she looks like?”

“I do,” Nebekah said.

“All right, you try to find her.”  He patted Nebekah’s shoulder.  “Good luck,” he told her.  He started to leave, but stopped suddenly.  He removed the four Shards of the Topaz, joined together, from his pack and handed it over to Mika.  “Just in case,” he muttered.  And with that, he turned around and began to fight his way through the throng, rejecting offers of flowers or requests to join in on the worship of the poor child god up on high.

Mika suddenly clapped a hand over her mouth, gasping abruptly.  “Sapphia!” she cried.

Panic rose in Tyro’s chest.  He turned around, expecting to find her behind him, but she wasn’t there.  “What?  What about her?”

“Someone has to warn her about the food,” Mika said.  “She hasn’t eaten since breakfast, the same as the rest of us.”

“Good thinking,” Nebekah told her.  “You’d better go find her.”

“Okay,” she agreed, tucking the nearly assembled Topaz neatly into her hemp pack.

Nebekah looked at Tyro.  “What about you?  Do you want to go after Sarjenka with Nebekah or look for Sapphia with Mika?”

He was genuinely torn.  On the one hand, he wanted to stay with Mika, to be the one to comfort and protect her.  On the other hand, he had absolutely no desire to be anywhere near Sapphia after what she had done to him back at the Dragon fortress.  “I’ll go with Nebekah,” he said, immediately receiving a slightly hurt look from Mika that, fortunately, Nebekah didn’t seem to notice.

 

Link figured that the healer’s den had to be one of the big buildings of the campus.  There was no good way to determine which one, so he systematically began going through them, one after another.  In the first one he tried, he discovered a most unusual game in progress.  Two men held up a third, one by the wrists, one by the ankles, keeping his face to the floor.  They would swing him up in a circle like an enormous, living jump rope.  Beneath him, Delta girls would roll across the floor so that each time, when he swung down, he would kiss a different girl, who would then roll away to allow the next a chance.  Link made a face of disgust and quickly backed away before they could invite him to join.

In the next building he tried, clearly some sort of barracks, he caught the drugged dancers in an elaborate bed jumping contest, whereby they would leap from one bed to another, often landing on an oblivious couple, busy snogging, so busy, in fact, that they didn’t even notice the disruption.  Glancing at some of the couples made Link just a little bit uncomfortable, so again, he excused himself quickly from the room and continued searching.

After that, he came upon the bathhouse.  The people were sitting in a circle around the stove pipe, mercifully wearing bath towels, talking about philosophy as they passed around an enormous hookah.  “And so,” one of them was saying, “they asked me if anyone ever wanted more.”

“More?” a girl said.  She paused, taking an enormous drag from the pipe.  “More is such a…negative concept.”

Again, Link quickly withdrew.  He tried several more buildings, discovering the stables which were filled with giggling that he simply did not want explained, a mess hall where a clothing optional dance was in progress, and a target range for bow practice which had been turned into a studio where busy artists splattered paint over parchment, canvas, and each other.  Finally, he came to a building that hosted an anomaly, a closed door.  He checked the lock, but found that the door easily opened.  Carefully, he leaned his back against the door as a couple of dancers passed by with their flowers.  Once their backs were to him, Link leaned into the door and slipped inside, quickly closing the door behind him.

He knew at once that he had found the infirmary.  Like the barracks, there were several rows of beds, these much softer and cleaner.  Magical healing charms hung over the head of each bed.  They ranged from pinkish crystals to Risan dream catchers that looked like intricate spider webs.   Beyond the beds was a small area surrounded by privacy screens.  One of them was flapped open slightly, revealing a higher bed.  At the foot of the bed was a set of clay bricks, just beneath a rail that Link imagined was used for childbirth.  Lining the walls on either side of the area were counters, filled with various bottles and herbs, most of which Link did not recognize.  When it came to his health, Link had always had to rely on the kindness of strangers.

Slowly, constantly looking over his shoulder at the door, Link made his way toward the screens.  “Hello?” he called softly.  Of course, he had no real hope that the healer was immune from the lotus blossoms.  For all he knew, she was out dancing with the rest of them, still, there was always a chance.  He hoped she would be around, otherwise, he would be forced to turn to her books to learn about the lotus blossoms and he only knew one word of the ancient Gerudo dialect.  He imagined there were probably a lot more in the healing books.  “Is anyone here?”

Of course, there was no response.  He should have expected as much.  Sighing angrily, he walked over to the screens and picked one up.  He turned around, walking over to the wall and leaning the screen against it.  On the counter beside him, he noticed a mortar and pistil.  There was still crushed herb inside of it.  At least he could feel fairly certain that the healer had been in recently.  And practicing her art, from the looks of things.  With any luck, perhaps there were a few people still immune to the effects of the drugs.

When Link turned around, his hopes were dashed and his heart jumped out of his chest entirely.  On the ground, previously hidden by the screen, he saw a mangled, bloody corpse, sprawled spread-eagle, face to the ceiling.  She was an older woman, clearly a Gerudo from the vestiges of her red hair, pulled untidily back behind her head.  Her entire chest was a mosaic of stab wounds, far more than Link could possibly have counted, even if he had had the stomach to do so.  Blood was puddle beneath her, leading him to believe that some of the wounds went all the way through to her back.  She was staring up at the roof, her unseeing eyes forever frozen in a look of complete and utter terror.  At least her enemy had had the decency to look her in the eye before killing her so brutally.

Link felt an overwhelming sense of disgust.  True, he had no love of the Kodiak, but this woman was a healer, dedicated to the art of keeping people alive.  To murder her was a gross perversion of everything this woman had doubtlessly dedicated her life to.  Who would do such a thing?  And why?  Especially in Jadis’ new utopia which boasted the slogans of peace and love.  It simply didn’t make sense.  All it managed to do was confirm Link’s suspicions.  The inconsistency of a murder in this society clearly indicated that there was something more going on than Jadis was letting him know.  Something dark.

Disgusted at the way this poor woman had been left, Link knelt down beside the corpse.  Gently, he closed her eyes and took two Rupees from his dwindling wallet and placed them over her eyelids.  Her face was still somewhat warm.  This had happened recently.  Which mean, he supposed dully, that the murderer might well be close by even now.  Then again, a murderer would be rather difficult to pick out of this crowd.  There was simply too much going on, it overwhelmed the senses.  Sighing, he drew his sword, resting the point on the ground.  He didn’t know a lot about Gerudo funerals, aside from the pyre, but he imagined that there must be some kind of display of strength.  He leaned on his sword, muttering a few words that he vaguely knew to belong to a Hylian prayer for the dead.

A sudden scream forced Link to look up.  Much to his dismay, the door to the chamber had been opened.  There was the young girl called Nala who had greeted them when they arrived that morning.  She was staring at Link, kneeling over the body, with complete horror.  Quickly, he stood up, holding out his hands.  “No!” he cried quickly.  “It’s not what you think!”  And then he saw the sword in his hand, a bit of blood from the puddle dripping off of it.  Great.  Just great.  Quickly, he tossed it down onto the ground.  The last thing he wanted to do now was draw more attention to his most unfortunate position.

Nala’s screams had brought several more people to the doorway.  “What’s happening, sister?” someone asked.

“Murder!” Nala wailed.

“It’s not what it looks like!” Link shouted.

“Murder!”

“Yes, it is a murder!” Link told them.  “But I didn’t –”

“What’s all the shouting about?”  Jadis had appeared, squeezing her ample body through the crowded door.

“There’s been a murder!” Nala yelled needlessly.

Jadis crossed the room, her followers behind her.  She stared down at the bloody corpse of the healer.  “This is a most grievous crime,” she whispered.

“I saw him standing over the body!” Nala hissed.  “With a sword in his hand, sister Jadis.”

The priestess looked up at Link.  “Is this true?”

“Yes,” Link said.  “But I didn’t do it!”

“We seem to have a little circumstantial evidence,” she told him.

“What?”

“All that blood on your clothing.”

Link looked down.  To his horror, he saw that his tunic was covered in the healer’s blood.  “I didn’t do it!”

But Jadis leaned over, feeling the healer’s face.  “The body is still warm.”

“Murderer!” Nala roared.

Jadis shook her head mournfully.  “Your violent ways have no place in our community, brother,” she said.

“What are you going to do to me?” he asked.  “Capital punishment doesn’t suit your peaceful ways.”

“We are a merciful people,” Jadis told him.  “We believe in driving out evil with kindness.”

“So…what does that mean?”

She glanced at her disciples.  “He must be taken to the learning center.”  Behind her, they all nodded gravely.

Link didn’t like the sound of that.  “Learning center?” he repeated.

“Yes,” Jadis said.  “It is the only way.  Your violence must be driven out.  It’s the only way you can live in peace and serve Yakut.”

“But I don’t want to serve Yakut.”

“Thus is the voice of all nonbelievers before they are re-educated.”

“Re-educated.”

“Take him to the learning center.”

Suddenly, Jadis’ followers descended upon Link.  He struggled against them, but his feet slipped in the healer’s blood and he lost his balance.  The barefoot cultists had the upper hand and they hefted Link clean off of his feet, carrying him away.  “No!” Link shouted, wriggling, trying desperately to worm his way free.  He didn’t like the sound of a learning center and he certainly had no desire to be re-educated.  Grasping and squirming, he happened to look behind and catch Jadis staring at him.  He couldn’t be certain, not from this particular vantage point, but he was certain there was a gleam of something in her eye.  Whatever it was, he realized that this learning center was probably not a matter of peace and love.

 

Tyro and Nebekah were fighting their way through the throngs of dancers.