The Hero's Squire

Chapter 3

Rat thought death would be silent, like falling asleep. But his ears rang like iron bells, and as his eyes fluttered open, a glowing pink fairy hovered above his face. A tiny woman with dragonfly wings blew him a kiss, sprinkling him with glittering dust. His nose twitched. The fairy giggled, waved goodbye, and zipped away through the rubble.

He tried to draw a breath, but weight pinned his ribs to his spine. His body was still vibrating from the concussion blast. It should be in pain, but he felt nothing aside from the growing burn in his lungs. His body screamed for air. His fingers clawed at the rubble, but a stone pinned his arm, and he couldn't do more than cock his wrist.

A sob caught in his throat. I don't want to die.

Green light flashed above him, lighting up the inside of his tomb. Threaded with blue strings of magic, the light twisted around a thick wooden beam, gripped the beam like a claw, and raised it up.

The weight vanished from Rat's chest. Air rushed into his chest, thick with dust and smoke, and the smell of fresh blood. The glowing beam shifted and pulled through the rubble. As it moved, small chunks of wood and tree flesh fell onto his shoulders and face, then the beam was gone.

Rat heard a distant clunk, like something heavy hitting the ground. Rubble shifted again, and the weight began vanishing one scoop at a time from his legs, hips, and arms. White light swung through a smoldering fragment of a Yiga banner draped across his face. Then two hands lifted the banner, and Rat stared up into the strangest mask he'd ever seen.

I thought I was the rat.

The brown mask drew to a point like a beak, cut with two slits for eyes. Glowing orbs rocked as Link tilted his head, surveying the boy, still half-buried in the rubble of the Yiga hideout.

Rat shifted his shoulder. He tried prying his arm free. The swordsman raised another beam from Rat's legs, and Rat drew up his knee. He braced his heel against the ground to roll onto his side. "Get away from me," he whispered. His dry throat scratched and his lungs seized with a cough.

The pain awoke.

White. Blinding. Consuming his chest, his leg. He couldn't get enough air to scream. Each gasp sent spasms through his broken ribs. He grasped his chest, and in the light of the swordsman's mask, he didn't recognize his own arm. His skin was raw and red, as though skinned. Stars misted over his vision.

The swordsman touched a pouch strapped to his waist, and a glowing vial appeared in his hand. Pink light shone through the delicate glass. He pulled the cork with a bright pop and held the vial to Rat's lips, but Rat clenched his jaw.

"Drink it." The swordsman's low voice echoed against his mask.

Rat glared back.

"Take it," the man said, "or you will die."

The boy lay still, breathing fast and shallow through his nose. He hurt so bad. A sob broke open inside him; he opened his lips. The swordsman tilted the vial. Sweet liquid flowed over Rat's tongue. The magic tingled in his teeth. It fizzed through his body like soda water and gathered around his breaks and his burns. The pain numbed to an ache.

As it faded, exhaustion took its place. His eyelids closed. Darkness drifted into him once more and he felt more rubble being scooped from beneath his back. He slipped away.

#

His back was vibrating. The ground tilted up and down. Zonai wheels hummed on either side of his head. He cracked his heavy eyelids open. He was lying on a slab of rock, glued to it by something like green plasma underneath his back. Four giant wheels spun the vehicle over the ground, and the swordsman stood at the controls. Two headlights shone out into the darkness, illuminating the uneven ground, shining on trees Rat had never seen before. The cold air smelled different, new.