Chapter  12 :  Dragonfingers

Ghirahim had stolen Link's cap so he could run his fingers through the elf's dark-blond hair. Link had been making halfhearted attempts to retrieve it.

"I can't imagine what you could be trying to do," the demon lord said lazily, holding the cap above his head. "Stretching, maybe?"

Link gave him an amused smile and placed his hand around the arm holding the cap.

"If you say please, I could be convinced to return it. Or even if you say anything at all."

Link only smiled and shook his head.

"Very well. You brought this on yourself." Ghirahim dissolved the cap, moving it to one of his teleportation caches. He leaned over until his face was level with Link's. "Don't think I won't get you to talk, Sky Hero."

Link only raised an eyebrow.

Ghirahim sighed, and reluctantly pulled away from Link. "Hmmm. That was fun. Unfortunately, I do need to see if there are any clues lying around about why your friend came here."

Link looked around and shrugged.

"Yes," Ghirahim said. "There's not much here, is there?"

Then Ghirahim noticed a bird carving he hadn't paid any attention to before. It caught his eye this time because he realized it was levitating slightly above the stone around it. Concentrating on the statue, he could sense magic emanating from it. He tilted his head and pointed to it. "Now, that's a rather unusual color for a statue. If you could take a look?"

Link nodded and waded through the water to the statue. He ran a hand along the top of it, but nothing happened.

"Perhaps I should examine it," Ghirahim waded across to the statue, and Link moved to the side. Drawing his sword, he raised the blade and struck the statue several times with it. Flashes of light emanated from it, much as had happened with the golden door. Ghirahim paused, holding his sword in the air. He took a step toward the statue-and stepped on something long and slimy—a small fish. He slipped forward slightly, and reaching out with his right hand to catch himself, he touched the bird statue.

Instantly he drew away from it, wary of whatever magic it held inside it.

The statue made a strange 'fwash!' sound and spun.

He saw the space just above the Goddess statue's hands glow and a tablet materialized there.

"Now that was strange," Ghirahim said, feeling deeply puzzled. For a moment, he just stood there, staring at the statue, as if waiting for it to explain itself. It didn't respond to Link touching it, but responded to me? That doesn't make any sense. I should certainly take advantage of this, though. He carefully retrieved the tablet from the statue.

Looking it over, recognition dawned quickly on him. For the last several days, he had been reading about Hylia's temples and looking at countless maps of them. This tablet clearly showed the area around the ancient Earth Temple, which was marked on the tablet by a blazing red ruby. He gave it a small smile. This must be to tell the Hero where he needs to go next. He didn't detect any magic in it. And it had already told him everything he needed to know. He handed it to Link. "I think this belongs to you." Link took the tablet and tucked it under one arm.

Ghirahim smiled at the Sky Hero. I have you now, Hylia.

Zelda held tight to the chestnut mane of the creature Impa had called a 'horse'. Her guardian had told her that the horse's name was Flight. Zelda thought it was very apt. Impa had said that the horse was faster than any other. To Zelda, the brown and white-spotted creature seemed to race across the field as fast as a Loftwing flew. Impa rode no horse herself, however. Instead, she ran alongside it. Zelda had never seen any elf who could move so quickly.

Their travels after the first spring had been a blur. First, a beam of light had taken them to an immense field. Then, Impa had introduced her to Flight and told her they would be traveling straight to the second temple—with the exception of a single side journey along the way. That side journey was taking them towards a mountain range Impa had called the Dragonfingers.

Zelda mused over the first thing she had asked Impa, after their visit to the place Impa had called Skyview Temple. She had wondered aloud why she still didn't remember anything about being the Goddess. Impa had explained that her memories would sleep until they were completed. Zelda tried to decide if she felt any different at all from before. She sighed. Not really. I guess I just have to wait until we get the rest of my memories. There was something else she had wanted to ask her guardian as well.

"Impa?" Zelda called.

"Yes, Your Grace?" She glanced over at Zelda before turning her gaze back to the field in front of her.

Zelda hesitated. She had put off asking this question for so long because she was afraid of what the answer would be. But I have to know. "In the temple-what happened to Lord Ghirahim after I left?"

Impa didn't look at her. "He survived."

Zelda breathed a sigh of relief. "Thank you for—not killing him."

Impa turned to face the younger woman as she ran. Zelda marveled that she didn't even seem to be breathing heavily. "Your Grace-"

"Please, just call me Zelda. That title still seems strange to me."

"Zelda, then," Impa continued. "I did not let him live out of misplaced mercy. He only lives because he realized he was outmatched and fled our fight. If we meet again, I will kill him."

"But—he was only trying to keep his promise-"

Impa stopped. The horse, as if following some unspoken command, halted shortly after and trotted back over to her. Concerned, Zelda dismounted and walked over to the tall Sheikah woman.

"What is it? I've never seen you look so worried."

Impa placed her hands on Zelda's shoulders. "There is something I just thought of. Please-tell me, what did he ask you to promise in return? A demon never makes a promise without asking an even bigger one in return."

"I said—I said that if he returned us to the sky, Link and I would never trouble him again." Zelda looked up at Impa. She could see her guardian's eyes widen.

"He didn't—ask you to say any particular words to make this promise, did he?" The Sheikah woman looked more tense than Zelda had ever seen her. Her grip tightened, though not painfully. Zelda noticed that Impa was always careful to ensure she wasn't harmed. Zelda was so confused by the question she didn't answer at first. Why would Impa ask such a strange thing?

Finally, she answered. "No. Why would it matter what words I used?"

She could see Impa release the breath she had been holding. "It does matter. It matters a great deal. But we have been very lucky. They are not words you would have said accidentally. I suspect we rescued you from his clutches just in time."

"Why is that?" Zelda asked.

"Because I would bet that he was preparing to have you swear a vow, an eternal vow, that if he returned you and the Hero to the Sky, that neither of you would ever trouble him again. But what you do not understand yet, Your Grace, is that that promise would also apply to us."

Zelda tilted her head. "But it has nothing to do with you. I only mentioned Link and myself."

Impa shook her head. "It has everything to do with us. Because the magic we fight him with is your magic, Your Grace. If you had made that promise, all of us would have been forced between choosing to surrender to death and subjugation or the loss of that magic, which would have had the same end result."

Zelda was horrified. She shook her head. "I didn't know!"

"Of course you didn't. And I suspect he must have planned to take advantage of that fact."

Zelda looked down at the grass. "I guess—he wasn't as honorable as he seemed."

"That is what I have been trying to tell you."

"I still don't think he deserves to die," Zelda said, looking back up.

Impa sighed. "There is no other way to end the threat of the demons. As long as their ruler is such a powerful sorcerer, they will have the means and the motivation to fight us. They seek to escape the Seal."

"Then why don't you find a way to make peace with them? Let them live on the surface?"

Impa shook her head. "They seek dominion over the entire surface realm. Perhaps they would spare our lives if we surrendered, yes. But they would never allow us our freedom. And I would rather die fighting than live as a slave."

"There must be some way to make peace with them that won't hurt anyone," Zelda said. She still didn't understand what Impa meant by the word 'slave'. Impa had tried to explain to her before, but it hadn't made any sense. Still, Impa had insisted it was a horrible fate, and Zelda had no reason to disbelieve her.

Impa gave her a small smile. "Perhaps there is. Either way, after you get your memories back, you will be able to help us bring peace to the surface once again."

Zelda returned her smile. "I look forward to that."

Impa looked over at the mountains ahead of them. Zelda could still hardly believe her eyes when she saw them. They were the most enormous things she had ever seen. Even one of them, if turned upside down, would make a sky island so vast she thought it would be larger than all of the islands in the Hundred Isles combined. All of them were leviathans compared to Skyloft, a place she had once found immense. Everything on the surface was just so—large.

"We should get moving again," Impa said, turning towards the immense spires of rock in front of them. Then, quietly, as if to herself, she muttered, "Demon's Teeth, I hate mountains."

"Why do you hate mountains?" Zelda said, choosing not to comment this time on the curse Impa had chosen. She had tried to speak to her about it before, but Impa always seemed to misunderstand. She thought Zelda just didn't want her to curse in her presence. What Zelda had tried to explain, without success, was that she objected to the particular curse itself, not to the fact that Impa was saying it in front of her. But she would have to think of a way to explain it better.

Impa looked over at her. "Eh? Oh, sorry. I was just talking to myself again. It's just that they are festering death traps, is all. And home to all the very worst kinds of vermin. At least we don't have to climb them." She grimaced.

"You said this is not the fastest way to get to the temple."

"Not even remotely,"

"Why are we going this way, then, if you hate this place so much?"

"Because there's a relic I need to get for you, before we travel to the temple."

"What is it-?"

"It's called-," Impa paused, looking over towards one of the nearby mountains. A golden creature jumped off of the top of it, flapping its two large leathery wings and swinging its long tail. It's serpentine neck turned towards them. The horse started, though she didn't run away. Zelda gave her an absent pat on the nose to try to calm her.

This time what Impa said was unintelligible. She looked back over at Zelda. "There's a dragon over there. We have to get to the nearest mountain. Now."

"But I don't understand," Zelda said. "I thought you told me the dragons were our allies-"

Impa's eyes searched the mountains frantically. "I was talking about your dragons. That one just wants us for lunch." Zelda was taken by surprise as Impa hefted her over her shoulder as if she were a bag of potatoes. Then she said 'hiya!' and hit the rump of her horse. Flight startled and began running away from the mountains. Impa turned and ran towards them. Zelda watched from Impa's shoulder as the dragon veered towards the horse. Flight was astonishingly fast. By the time the dragon caught up with her, she was nearly to the horizon. Zelda looked away as the dragon shook the horse in its jaws. She could hear Flight's screams and shrieks even from here.

Darkness enveloped them. Zelda realized she was looking out of a cave opening.

Impa muttered a curse. "I liked that horse." She carefully placed Zelda on the ground.

Zelda stared out of the cave mouth, horrified. Flight's screams had ceased. "It—it just-"

"It did what dragons do," Impa said. "We should-"

Zelda heard a deafening roar and felt herself being pulled back by iron-strong hands as a silver dragon stuck its head into the cave opening. As it tried to pull its head back, Zelda realized it was stuck. The creature opened its mouth and Zelda felt the air around her being pulled towards it, even as Impa pulled her away from it. A blazing light grew at the back of its throat.

Zelda could feel the heat of the raging inferno as it rushed towards her...

And then was stopped as it hit a blue wall of energy. For a moment, all Zelda could do was stare at the place, no more than an arms-length from her, where the bloom of red flames met the shining blue energy field.

Impa picked her up again and ran further into the cave. When she finally placed her down again, the area around them was so dark Zelda couldn't see anything.

"Are we lost?" She asked. She had never been afraid of the dark before. But this darkness was so complete she couldn't even see her hand when she placed it mere inches from her face. Even the cave near Skyloft's waterfall never got this dark—the walls themselves gave off a kind of dull glow.

"No, we're not lost. I've been using my magic to see where we're going. So—bad news is we nearly died. Good news is we're almost to our destination, and we won't have to go back to the surface to get there. All these mountain caves are connected to each other."

"Can you make a light with your magic?"

"That would be a bad idea." Zelda felt Impa take her hand. "Some of the things in here—are attracted to light."

"Things?" Zelda asked, apprehensive. They were walking now, with Impa guiding Zelda slowly through the cave.

"Don't worry. Nothing as bad as the dragons, and nothing I can't handle, if we encounter a few. I'd just rather not attract a whole nest of them."

Zelda was fairly sure she had just experienced what Horwell called 'a significant psychological trauma'. She remembered the lecture where he had explained carefully to all of the knights how to tell if someone had been had been harmed mentally by an experience, such as falling off their Loftwing. Of course, in such a case, they were nearly always caught by a nearby Knight if their own Loftwing didn't catch them first. The Knights were very good at their job—mostly people didn't even get a scratch from the experience. But not all scars were physical, he had explained. And what might be only unpleasant or frightening for one person might be overwhelming for another. He had also explained some ways to calm the person. Unfortunately, neither hot tea nor napping in a cozy bed were options at this point. Zelda didn't think they would help, either. The last several days here seemed to have been one long string of psychological traumas.

"Finally," Impa said. They stopped, though Zelda still couldn't see anything. She heard Impa muttering under her breath. "Can't imagine why she'd be living here, of all places—guess it's good—even the demons aren't likely to find her."

Zelda heard a rapping sound. "Granite! It's me, Impa! You remember me, right? Broody teenager you fostered? Always more trouble than she was worth? Think you could-"

There was a rumbling sound and light filtered into the cavern as a rock was pushed sideways. Strong hands grabbed them both and pulled them into the rounded doorway. The creature looked kind of rock-like herself, Zelda thought. Granite gave them both an apprehensive look, and shifted the rock back over the entrance of her dwelling.

"I didn't expect to see you again, Impa, after so long," Granite said. "I'm glad to know you are well, but what brings you to this forsaken place?"

Impa looked around. Zelda followed her guardian's gaze. She could see that the place looked like an ordinary, well-maintained little house. Except for the lack of windows, of course. Numerous lanterns were hung around the dwelling. There was a kitchen, carpets, a bed. It looked cozy.

"I could ask the same of you, Granite. I've seen you travel a lot of places in your wanderings, but why here?" Impa walked over to a wooden chair and sat down in it, looking at the paintings on the wall. "Looks like you've been here a while, too. Thought you said you hated to stay in one place too long. Wasn't that why we always moved around when I was with you?"

Granite looked down at the floor. "I've been in hiding. If I traveled too much, someone might see me."

Impa leaned forward in the chair. "Who else knows you're here?"

"No one except the two of you. Twice a year, I go out to talk to Gorko and some of the others. They've been conveying my messages to Tala for the past nine years now. I confess, I don't even know how you found me, Impa."

Impa smiled. "As I've told you before, I am an exceptionally good tracker."

Granite looked up at her, surprise written on her features. "Then—that must be a magical ability. You never told me-"

Impa laughed. "Don't look so shocked. Just a minor thing I kept to myself, so I could do my teenage sneaking easier. Especially since you were always so good at finding everything else out. Oh, I remember that quite well." Impa looked up at the ceiling, deepening her voice. "Don't you lie to me, young woman! You know how scratchy it makes my head feel!"

Granite gave a halfhearted chuckle. "Last time I saw you, you had just turned sixteen. That seems so long ago."

"It wasn't so long. I meant to visit you even sooner, you know, but as a soldier, I have been rather—preoccupied."

"A decade can be longer than you think," Granite said. "A lot has changed for me, since we last met. But I suspect you have not come simply to reminisce." She looked over at Zelda. "Who is this?"

Impa smiled wider, and turned to glance toward Zelda. "Why don't you introduce yourself, Your Grace?"

Granite's eyes widened, and Zelda saw something very much like fear there. She tried to give Granite a comforting smile. At least, she hoped it looked comforting.

"Er, my name is Zelda. Impa says I'm also Hylia. I'm traveling around to get my memories back. From when I was Hylia, that is. I remember all of my own life. That probably sounded a little weird." She tilted her head at the rock woman. "It's nice to meet you, Granite." She turned to Impa. "If I could ask a question, though?"

"Of course," Impa said.

"Why are we here?" Zelda asked. "I know you said earlier we were going to collect a relic. What is it?"

Impa chuckled. "I believe I got a bit distracted by the dragons. But yes, we're here to collect the shard of the Triforce you created. The Shard of Earth and Truth."

Ghirahim had regretfully returned Link to his confinement. Link had seemed understandably disappointed to go back to the small room, but at least he seemed to find the stone tablet piece interesting. Ghirahim had seen no reason not to let the Sky Hero keep it.

Currently he walked through the halls of what he was thinking of as the new palace. He admired the way the sunlight streamed through the diamond-shaped windows. Right now, it was being hidden from view from all but the demons by some very powerful spells. In this, unlike the shield, the other sorcerers had proved very useful. Ghirahim did have concealment magic of his own, but nothing powerful enough to hide an entire palace. Fortunately, concealment was a very common ability among sorcerers. They had been able to combine their magic to create a spell that was powerful enough not only to hide the palace, but also the other building next to it. The one where Link currently resided. Ghirahim sighed. The thought of the elf being trapped in the dungeon, his dungeon, distressed him. The rooms for the hostages were not unpleasant—Ghirahim couldn't imagine keeping hostages in a regular cell as Releris had done. It was simply cruel and unnecessary. Ghirahim's dungeon did have many such cells, but those he would reserve for hardened criminals, and any Sheikahs who it might be useful to keep for some time. Those were dark, and cold, and full of vermin. They would also be as impossible to escape from as the hostage cells. As for those who committed lighter crimes, Ghirahim saw no reason to clutter his dungeons with them. There were other, less harsh ways, to punish such things.

Ghirahim had gone to considerable lengths to ensure that the occupants of the hostage rooms had every available comfort. The rooms were large, and had comfortable furniture. They also had large windows made of carefully polished diamond. That had amused Ghirahim somewhat—diamond-shaped windows made of diamond. Still, he knew that their only current occupant, Link, missed his freedom. He was cheered somewhat, though, by the thought that he did plan to let Link out of his confinement soon. He had asked the Sky Hero to help him, after all. And Link had agreed to do so. The only problem being, of course, that Ghirahim couldn't tell if he was being truthful. If he could just get the Sky Hero to talk to him...

Ghirahim's musings were interrupted when he realized he had reached his destination. The door did not look any different than the ones next to it. But the small golden placard with the words 'Lord Terrin' etched onto it differentiated it from the ones beside it. Most of the nobles had chosen to change the design of the door of their rooms in some way to indicate their presence. But Terrin probably wouldn't see any point to that. Ghirahim knocked.

"You may enter," Terrin's voice called. The door opened. Terrin was sitting in a chair near one of the windows, reading a book. Ghirahim walked in, examining the room. It was sparse. There were no decorations and the furniture was drab and utilitarian. Terrin raised his hand as Ghirahim passed through the door and waved it, closing the door behind him.

"Ah, Lord Ghirahim," Terrin said, placing the book on a table near the chair and turning to face him. The blank mask tilted. Ghirahim considered his words. Terrin had been asking to speak with him for days now, although he had always agreed that it could wait until after Ghirahim discovered where Hylia was traveling to.

Suddenly, Terrin clapped, his long claws clacking against each other. "You had me fooled for a while there!" He laughed. "You are quite the performer, Lord Ghirahim." Terrin steepled his fingers in front of him, his claws making a 'V' shape above them. "Or should I call you Lord Sword?"

He knows. But I should find out how much he knows.

"And why should you wish to call me that?" Ghirahim asked.

"No one defeats the Unbreakable Sword in a battle of swords. Unless they are the Unbreakable Sword. Which would, I think, explain a lot about you."

He knows everything. Inconvenient. "Is that all you wished to tell me?"

Terrin laughed again. "No. I think we have much to discuss, Lord Sword. After all, you are the only one besides myself who remembers anything of Demise."

"Yes, although a sword attends to rather different things than most of us do," Ghirahim said. It was true that the sword remembered Demise. Just as it remembered all of its wielders. It's very first memory of Demise was of him plunging it through the heart of its previous wielder.

"I suppose it would," Terrin said. "And those things are of interest to me. Just as what I remember should be of interest to you. I can't tell you how many times Demise tried to bond a sorcerer to the sword, make them one and the same. Such a thing, if he had managed to accomplish it with any of the sorcerers he tried, might have allowed him to defeat Hylia herself!" Terrin sighed. "But alas, every sorcerer he attempted to bond to the sword died. I volunteered, of course, but he refused to try with me, firstly because of my relatively weak magic and secondly because by that time we both suspected that it would be a pointless attempt."

"Why do you think they all died?" Ghirahim asked, grimacing. The process had been very painful, but he had never realized that it might also be deadly. Not that he had ever had a choice in the matter, anyway. And I don't regret what I am now.

"We came to suspect that the sword would only bond with one whose loyalties were not so—fixed. Its nature requires a considerable amount of flexibility with such things."

"Then all of the sorcerers he tried-"

"Were like me. Unconditionally loyal to him." Terrin chuckled. "And seeing as you killed your last wielder, it seems that was both a sensible and prescient precaution."

"And is that what you wish to discuss with me?"

"No. What happened between you and Releris is not my concern. What I wish to discuss is the poor choice you have made for your current wielder," Terrin said. "Orynx cannot be of use to you as the wielder of the Sword. He cannot use its magic."

"And who would you suggest?"

"Myself, of course. I believe you wish to rid yourself of a certain Sheikah menace named Tala? Their most powerful magic user? Who, as I have told you before, can only be killed with the Unbreakable Sword?"

"Yes," Ghirahim said. "But it seems you would be no better choice than any other magic user. In fact, I sense you are rather weaker than almost any of the other sorcerers who serve with us on the surface. What powers do you have?"

"Some minor telekinesis," Terrin said, sounding amused. "I could demonstrate with my daggers again if you'd like. Or with the door."

"Then why do you think I would want you as my wielder?" Ghirahim said. "Your only other asset is the information you have on Tala. You could give that to a more powerful sorcerer, who could-"

"That is where you are wrong," Terrin said, his white bone mask tilted up towards Ghirahim's face. "I have one other advantage that no other potential wielder has."

"And what is that?" Ghirahim asked. He suspected that Terrin had been leading up to this point from the moment he had begun speaking.

Terrin clicked his claws against each other. "I am entirely immune to her magic."