11 – Excellent

Saria pushed the vines away from the dark gap of an entrance, letting a dank, musty smell into the slanted sunlight. "This is it," she said softly. "This is how you get into the Temple."

Link stepped ahead of his group, his sword clinking in its sheath, then waved away small clouds of dust before peering inside. An ominous gloom, framed by withered leaves and muddy coloured vines, stared back at him. "And, to think, you knew a way in all along."

Saria cocked her head slightly, and smiled.

The Shadow Lord moved to enter – then paused. What would Zelda have done in a situation like this? Oh, yes. "Love," he said. "I'd just like to thank you for all your help. This other entrance is a time saver – we can get both the Princess and Navi back far more quickly now." He smiled at her. "Hope there's no hard feelings or anything."

Saria raised an eyebrow. "You're thanking me?" She smiled. "Well, this is a turn-up now, isn't it? And, anyway, I should be apologising to you. I'm not too proud of the way I behaved."

Link shrugged. "Nothing to worry about, don't worry. Oh, and...ah..." What else would Zelda have done? Ah, that was it. "Thanks for everything. Everything. If you're ever in need of anything, just drop by Castleton and say the word, love."

"Stop it, Link," Saria said softly, her smile still in place. "You're making it sound as though you're not coming back."

The Shadow Lord grinned. "Look after the little love, won't you?"

"Chrysania?" Saria asked. "Of course. I'll see to it personally."

"And the wretched foul spawn of rabid cuccos?"

"I'm sorry?"

"Dark Link."

"Oh, him," said Saria. "Don't worry. We've banished him and his little friend." She glanced up at Hawthorne. "Our Fairy here helped – she put a circle of Fairy Dust around the village. No-one will be bothering us for a while."

Hawthorne fluttered happily in the air. "The least I could do, no doubt."

The Shadow Lord glanced at the new entrance. "The Fairy Queen is in there, is she, love?" He had to look away instantly – the darkness was tugging at him, threatening to pull him in and swallow him whole. "Along with Navi and the Treasure?"

"Yes," Saria nodded. Concern lit up her eyes and she reached over to cling at the Shadow Lord's sleeve. "Be careful, Link. All of you. There's some sort of ...sort of...Guardian in there. A powerful one. We don't where he came from or when – but he rules the Temple; some say he has the power to manipulate whatever is in it."

Clumps of dirt fell from the top of the entrance as the Shadow Lord left his palm to rest there. "It always has to be the Guardian of Doom, doesn't it?" he muttered under his breath.

Simon DeLance shuffled forward, craning on his toes to peek into the entrance. "You mean...there's something dangerous in there?"

Saria pursed her lips, her expression grim. "I'm afraid so."

"If it isn't giant spiders," the Shadow Lord was saying, slipping into his own little world, "then it's dragons or the pure insanity given form known as Bongo-Bongo – though I can't really blame that one for going mental, now can I? Can you imagine that? Can you even comprehend that? You – mad evil genius that you are – have just looked on in awe as you've just procured the most vilest, foulest creature this side of a cucco reunion hosted by Kaepora Gaebora himself and you say to yourself, 'I know! I'll call it Bongo-Bongo! That's just perfect!'" Link shook his head. "The mind boggles."

"You mean," Simon went on, looking at Saria, "we could die?"

"Don't worry," she replied, smiling sadly. "You'll be safe so long as you all just work together."

"Think of it as an adventure, old chap," Mr Red piped in, slapping the younger man on the back. "What?"

"An adventure?" Simon felt sweat spring up on his face. His breathing became shallow. "Didn't you hear what she said? We could die! Painfully!"

An undead hand came to rest on his shoulder. "Oh, it's not too bad," the ReDead said. "You just have to go with the flow."

"I mean, just for once," the Shadow Lord muttered on, oblivious, "I'd like the thing to be guarded by the Not-Quite-Frightening-And-Really-Rather-Shy Deku Nut of Relative Danger or even the It'll-Give-You-What-You-Want-So-Long-As-You-Ask-Nicely Monster Too Scared to Face You." He shook his head again.

"Go with the flow?" Simon snapped. "What kind of flow would that be, then? A lava flow? A flow of a river hurtling on towards a waterfall of certain death? I'm sure we'll be encountering both!"

"Magma," said Saria.

"What?" cried Simon.

"You won't see any lava," she explained. "It's magma when it's inside. It's lava when it's outside."

"You know what?" the Shadow Lord continued. "It's Kaepora, I'm sure of it. I'm certain the little blighter goes around the Temples just before I go in, drops in one his no doubt ill-begotten offspring, then flies off cackling 'mu-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-haaa!' and then he comes and finds me and spouts off some cucco droppings about 'Oh, but if you'd only learn to believe in yourself and follow your heart within, you would find what you need the conquer the darkness without.'" The Shadow Lord's lip curled in contempt. "Oh yes, Mr Kaepora. I'm sure that when I'm facing a fifty-foot monstrosity that you put in my path that all I need to do is look at myself and say 'Hey! I believe in me!' and then look into my heart, which, if it hasn't stopped from sheer terror at that point, would be telling me to run for the hills and not to look back."

"I thought you wanted to die, anyway," Hawthorne asked.

"Yes," Simon replied, flustered. "But not painfully!"

"Oh, for the love of..."

"I'm sure Kaepora's rubbing his hands in glee even as we speak," Link said, glancing at the sky as though he could catch the culprit in the act itself. He thought about his words for a moment, then added, "That is, if he had any hands."

Simon frowned, his throat tightening as he gazed at the darkened entrance. "So, we're really going in there, then?"

"Oh, I'll get that owl one day, you see that I don't." The Shadow Lord, apparently, was still in a world of his own making. "I just can't wait to see his face when I tie his little wings together, gag his beak, and then drop him in a cage full of starved cuccos while I sit back and laugh and laugh and laugh. Let's see you believe yourself and get out of that, mate. Let's see you follow your heart now, sunshine – oh, whoops! There goes your heart, trapped between the yawning jaws of cucco death itself."

"I said," Simon cut in, irritated, "Are we going in there?"

Link snapped back to reality. "Are we afraid of the dark now, Mr DeLance?"

Scowling, Simon shook his head. "I'll do what we have to, to get our little Fairy friend back."

"Friend?" The Shadow Lord raised a quizzical eyebrow. "Surprised you're even familiar with the concept."

Turning away before he could see Simon's reaction, Link looked one last time towards Saria. "Not coming with us, love?"

"I'll be waiting," she replied. "Be careful."

The Shadow Lord nodded, then led the others into the tunnel. Warm air tinged with the scent of decay stroked their faces and disturbed their tunics. The ground beneath was soft and spongy, crackling with every footfall. The walls were damp and narrow, their movements echoing in the dim light. Up ahead, the path opened up to reveal one burning torch standing beside two darkened ones, all three of which were set outside a solid rock wall.

"This one's easy, what?" Mr Red piped in.

"Agreed," Link replied. "Use this last remaining torch to set the other two alight. The door – the wall – should open as a result." Frowning, he began to peer down at the ground. "There should be a Deku Stick around here somewhere – oh, thank you, Kaepora, for conveniently leaving that lying around. Next time why don't you just leave the bleedin door open like any sane intelligent being would?"

"Found it!" Hawthorne's voice reverberated around the cavern. She tugged at the stick, pulling it free from the mud and sending tiny crawling insects scuttling for cover. She threw it up to Mr C who caught it deftly then handed it over to the Shadow Lord. Link, in turn, passed it on to the Trapsnapper.

Mr Red poked the stick into the remaining fire, waited for it to smoulder and burn, then hurried over to the other two torches, pushed the stick into the oil and watched them both catch alight with tiny whoomphs. The little group huddled, waiting. Nothing happened. They waited some more. Still nothing happened.

"Hmmm," said Hawthorne. "I don't think-"

There was a creak. Then something snapped. With a shudder, the ground beneath them rose, soil and dust falling like rain from the new platform. It floated magically in the air.

"We're all going to die, aren't we?" asked Simon.

"Mr DeLance," the Shadow Lord replied, irritated. "I would appreciate it if you would just-"

With a sharp sigh the wall ahead slid upwards to reveal a curling passageway illuminated by dancing tendrils of flame. Link's eyes widened as the others huddled even closer behind them. "Yes," he said. "We're all going to die."

A burst of roaring flame exploded out of the passageway. "Oh, mate," Link whispered. "Kaepora, I take it all back, sunshine. Whatever I said, I didn't mean it."

"Um." It was Hawthorne again. "There's a bubble of...of...of magic around the platform! We Fairies can't get out!"

With a sudden gust of air the platform flew straight into the passageway, then spiralled downwards, spinning around and around, the Shadow Lord and his crew screaming as a roar of flame raged in their ears. They flung themselves flat down upon the flying platform itself, teeth clenched, their fingers digging into the earth.

"Fire!" screamed Simon as a fountain of bubbling sparks criss-crossed in the air above them.

"Duck!" cried Link, the platform shaking as they all pushed deeper into its soil-shrouded surface.

Tears in his eyes, his heart juddering in time with his rattling bones, Link gazed in horror as their tiny craft spun, curved down, swooped from side to side dodging plumes of flame spat from jagged cracks in the walls, then burst out into an immense chamber – no, not a chamber, an entire ocean.

"Water!" screamed Simon.

A thin, black arrow, curved and glistening in the ethereal light, leapt in and out of the green froth, heading straight for Link and his friends.

Simon, one hand over his brow, strained his eyes to see exactly what it was. The thing spun into the air, flipped over, then fell back into the water with a splash as it came closer and closer and – Simon's mouth fell open.

"Shark!" screamed Simon.

"Jump!" cried Link.

They sprang into the air as one, the shark curving over the platform just under them before diving back into the ocean. The platform dipped as they landed, the tail slapping the water, sending a stream of froth spiralling up behind them.

Darkness engulfed them as the platform plunged into another darkened passageway, then burst out into a whole other world - with fields, villages, clouds, sky, sun - and then plummeted straight to the ground.

Link could see tiny creatures - men, clad in armour and holding swords aloft – grow larger and larger in his eyes as the ground flew up towards them with lightning-quick speed. His mouth opening instinctively to yell, the Shadow Lord braced for the impact – then at the very last moment the platform jolted upwards, its tail screeching as it kissed the earth, sparks trailing in its wake. Cloak flapping behind him, Link clung for dear life as the platform slowed, lurching wildly from left to right.

Three guards were upon them within a heartbeat, but the Shadow Lord was ready. Using the momentum of the flight, he uncoiled his muscles and leapt, arms outstretched and cloak snapping in the air. Landing with a stumble Link reached back and twirled his sword into his hand. He slashed at one guard, then whirled around sending his blade into a sharp arc to catch another. The last guard, knocked back by the platform's momentum, tumbled to the ground, his hand grasping at the hilt of his sword, desperately trying to pull it free. Others were approaching from the distance.

Link turned to his friends, checking them over quickly with a practised eye as he helped Mr Red to his feet. "We'll have to hurry." From behind him came the frantic curses of the guard. "Mr DeLance, take a look at the map at-"

A whisper of shimmering metal sliced the air.

The Shadow Lord spun around. The last guard grinned. "I see that you've managed to get your sword out, then," said Link. "You must be very proud."

But it was too late – more and more of the guards poured out of the shadows. Link heard Hawthorne scream.

"Stop!" Leaping in front of his friends, the Shadow Lord brought his sword to bear. A sea of glinting weapons faced him in return. "Leave them be, mates."

One of the guards, his crimson garb signalling him out for some position of distinction, stepped forward. "What is it that you are doing here n this most sacred of Temples?"

Link licked his lips. They were outnumbered. They were about to die. He had to think quickly. He had to say something that would give them a slim thread of hope for escape.

"Raspberries," he said at last.

Crimson blinked. "What?"

"Terribly hard to find raspberries at this time of year, mate. So we thought we'd just stroll in here, see if you had any." The Shadow Lord glanced at the hard faces before him. "You all seem like raspberry type men to me. I'm sure you're all bursting with raspberries."

"What foolishness is this?" Crimson spat, sneering. He stepped up so that he was nose-to-nose with the Shadow Lord. "First I'll tear you apart. Then I'll force-feed your limbs to your friends."

"No raspberries, then?" Link attempted a smile. "How about a banana? Perhaps you're a banana man, deep down."

A sea of metal flashed as swords were raised. The Shadow Lord stood his ground, but the others shrank back, fear igniting in their eyes –

Thwip. Thwip. Thwip.

Ropes fell from the ceiling, dangling momentarily and surprising the guards. The wind whistled as someone, a scarf tied around her neck trailing in the air, swung down from the shadows above, a spinning club in her hand. She swooped past the Shadow Lord, her weapon crunching into Crimson's face, then swung back upwards as other men, armed to the hilt, slid down the other ropes, yelling battle cries as they fell upon the guards.

Chaos followed, the guards desperately trying to fight back, then running for fear as a mass of colour descended from above, its surface first blue, then red, then winking silver, then flooding emerald. The woman with the club slowed her flight, her rope – attached to the thing of colour - winding down like a pendulum of a clock. "Ahoy, there!" She grinned, blonde hair spilling out over her shoulders as her eyes twinkled. "Excellent Radcliffe's my name, salvage is my game." She glanced in turn to the others. "I'd like to take this time to ask you to join me for a drink, maybe with a splash of lime. Come hop aboard the Boat that Floats Anywhere, come take a trip on the Colour Ship." Her face took on a sudden sinister edge. "And I do hope you won't refuse."

2

"A ship of solid colour?" Link sat in the Captain's Quarters as the rainbow of light around him that constituted a flying vessel rocked slowly from side to side, creaking in the wind. "How's that work then, love?"

Excellent Radcliffe grinned, then spun on his heels and slid into a chair opposite the Shadow Lord. "To be honest, I have absolutely no idea." A pause, then, "But less with me and more with you."

The sound of furtive coughing reached them from the corner of the room. Link glanced in that direction, saw one large man standing there with arms crossed – a personal guard, no doubt – his breath raspy, his massive chest straining against his tunic. The man coughed again, wheezing. Link raised an eyebrow.

"Oh, don't mind General Tedious here," Excellent said. "He just has a slight problem with his breathing, that's all." Another coughing fit followed. Excellent ignored it. "Now. Why are you here, exactly? Oh, and raspberries just won't cut the ice as an excuse."

Link drummed his fingers on the table. The others were being fed in some other part of the ship – the galley most likely – leaving him to deal with Excellent. The Shadow Lord wasn't yet sure if the woman – as beautiful as she was, he had to admit - was their host or their captor. All he knew was that they were here, disarmed, when time was slowly running out. "Where exactly is here, sunshine?" he asked. "I was under the impression that my friends and I had found themselves within a Temple. Now it seems we're in a world within a world."

"That you are," Excellent confirmed, smile still in place. She scooped an apple up from a nearby bowl, slid a thin knife from her sleeve and began to peel. "Bigger on the inside than on the outside. The doorway to the Temple is, in fact, a gateway to another world. Killyjanmaro on the outside, and here, well...we don't have a name for the place. We just know who's in charge."

"And who is that then, love?"

Candlelight glistened off of Excellent's eyes as she watched the Shadow Lord carefully. The ship pitched and yawed slowly in the silence. "You really don't know, do you?" The lines around her eyes tightened minutely. "And yet you look like him." She pursed her lips. "Nevertheless, my mistake. I'll just have to rectify it, won't I?"

Link thought that he could hear the hint of a threat in the woman's words. "What are you, then?" he asked. "Pirates?"

A flicker of anger winked on and off Excellent's face. "I prefer the term 'Salvage Hunters.'"

"Salvage?"

"Salvage. Those little things that other people leave behind – be it goods, jewels, food, or even other people." She held Link's gaze for a heartbeat. "See that painting up there?" She nodded to a portrait hanging on the far wall, the faded colours depicting a woman in a crimson dress, her eyes alight, but her face still sad. "My pride and joy."

"Is that so?"

"Went through an infested moat, fifty-two guards – I counted them – seven trap-doors and a really really annoying Guardian of Death." He shook his head. "I hate those Guardians of Death."

"Irritating, aren't they, love?"

"You're telling me!" Her eyes lit up as they gazed at each other. Silence fell, a hint of a smile touching Excellent's lips.

"I can see," the Shadow Lord said, "that you're a woman of taste." Something danced in Link's eyes. "Would die for that picture, would you?"

Excellent shrugged modestly. "I like to think of myself as a lady of culture, yes." She smiled. "Yes...the portrait – The Melancholic Lady in Red - is rather dear to me." Clearing her throat, she went on, "As I said, we're Salvage Hunters. It would seem, though, that in this particular case, our little expedition to rescue you was all for nought." She watched him carefully as she linked her hands together then brought her chin to rest upon them. "Nothing to salvage from you, is there, hmm?"

The Shadow Lord definitely heard the threat – as sugarcoated as it was - this time. He eyed the food steaming on the table before him. One particular dish caught his eye. "You eat cuccos?"

Excellent bowed her head slightly. "It's the only thing they're good for."

Link smiled despite himself. "Can't say I disagree, love."

Something softened on Excellent's face. "You think so?" she said, delighted. A girlish giggle flew from her lips. "You know I'm always trying to inform everyone about the dangers of cuccos. No-one seems to ever listen to me."

"I know!" The Shadow Lord grinned as he laid his palms flat on the table. "You'd think they were in some other little world where cuccos aren't the most vicious –"

"-parasitic-"

"- evil, foul smelling –"

"- creatures of the deepest darkest night itself."

They grinned at each other. The air seemed to thicken. Their eyes were both wide, their gazes locked, as though they couldn't bring themselves to turn from the other.

Link stood slowly, the coloured boards creaking under his feet as he began to pace, hands behind his back.

"It seems," Excellent said softly, her eyes tracking his every movement, "we have quite a bit in common."

"Maybe," Link replied. He stepped over to the wall, next to the where the candle hung in its holder. "What is it that inspired you to become a Salvage Hunter, if I could just ask?"

Excellent leaned back in her chair as the Shadow Lord stood over her. She felt her breathing slow, felt her lips open slightly. The corner of Link's tugged upwards in response, and he licked his lips slowly.

"Salvage Hunters are we," she explained, "freedom for me. There's nothing better, my friend, than working solely for your own self. No-one to answer to, no-one to push you around. Go where you want, earn how you want. It's magic!" Candlelight flickered on her glistening eyes. "I used to be a tutor in a small village, acting all prim and proper as I taught the little ones all the basics. But you know what?"

"You hated it, right?"

Raising an eyebrow in surprise, Excellent nodded. "Right. Do this, do that, every suggestion I made rejected – I was sick of it." She looked away as she began to reminisce. Link stepped closer. "Then, one day, as a favour, I was charged with delivering a - oh, I don't know - a package, I think to someone. Had nothing to do with my duties, but I was desperate to make a good impression, so I did it. I thought, maybe, they'd think me a wonderful person and give me a higher position, one where I could make a difference – it's sound silly, I know." The girlish giggle returned, but the Shadow Lord merely smiled and motioned for her to go on. Excellent's voice dropped to a whisper. "But when I came face to face with the person and handed over the package-"

"- the look on his face –"

" - made it all- "

" - worthwhile, right, love?"

Excellent grinned, her teeth flashing. "Right!" She laughed. Their eyes locked again. Excellent pulled at her tunic, suddenly finding that she was feeling uncomfortably hot. "So, that little epiphany led me into a new choice of profession – this one. Most of the stuff we salvage we give to those who need it. It's just the odd one or two items that we keep for ourselves. The more expensive goods, we sell. It's a hard life, but it's good. We're free." She shrugged. "Relatively."

"A noble task to be sure," the Shadow Lord replied. He took one step. Then another. Shadows danced on the floor behind him. Excellent gazed up at him, her throat tightening. Link leaned in closer. Excellent closed her eyes.

"And now," said Link, his voice quiet, "I'm terribly sorry, I really do apologise, but I'm afraid I'm going to have to depart."

With a swipe of his arm, he snatched the candle from the holder then waved it in Excellent's face. The Salvage Hunter shrank back, her hands gripping the sides of her chair, bewilderment in her eyes.

General Tedious rumbled into action, swivelling around, his massive hands reaching up for the Shadow Lord – and then he began to cough. And cough again. And cough some more. Soon he was nothing more than a quivering hunk of coughing and spluttering, his eyes blazing with anger as he tumbled to the ground in a helpless heap. He snarled at the Shadow Lord, then tried to stand – and fell to the ground as the coughing overtook him once more. Wheezing, tears streaming from his eyes, General Tedious slapped the ground in despair.

Excellent looked up angrily, a smouldering look of deep hurt in her eyes. "You're threatening me with a candle? Are you mad?"

"No, love," Link replied, grinning. "I'm threatening this with a candle." He spun around and brought the candle to bear just inches away from the Melancholic Lady in Red.

Excellent gasped, her fingernails digging ever deeper into the sides of her chair. "You wouldn't!

"My sword," Link growled, his face half-shrouded in shadow, " if you'd be so kind."

Her chest heaving, her face turning scarlet, Excellent slowly stood, then walked over to a nearby chest, her eyes – now blazing with pure hate - not leaving Link's face.

"Move!" The Shadow Lord jabbed at the portrait, prompting the Salvage Hunter to dart over to the chest, snap it open and pull out Link's sword. "Throw it, then move away."

Raised voices floated in from the deck, some sort of commotion from outside turning tempers sour. Link ignored it. His sword chopped the air as Excellent threw it, tip over hilt, the blade catching the molten light of candle flame. He caught the blade with his free hand, plucking it out of the air with liquid ease. He moved to leave, then paused. "A word of advice to you, love," the Shadow Lord said. "I wouldn't be so attached to the more material things in life, if I were you." He moved to leave again, and stopped yet again. "Unless, of course, it's a rather dashing and incredibly useful green hat. Don't leave home without one."

Excellent's mouth dropped open as the Shadow Lord lifted the portrait off of the wall. "You can't take it!" she said, her fists clenching and unclenching. "I'll stop you!"

"It's just a little insurance, darling," the Shadow Lord replied as he backed away. "I'll give it back as soon my friends and I are off your insane little pleasure boat. Oh, and by the way," he winked, "we really could have been friends, you know that?"

Link ran over to the door, kicked it open –

and found himself facing the glares of the rest of the Hunter crew, their weapons already drawn. At the stern the Shadow Lord spotted his friends, all huddled around Simon DeLance who was, at that very moment, lurching from side to side, his arms outstretched, his eyes completely white. Momentarily forgetting about the immediate danger, Link stared at the young man. "What's happened to him? Did he just happen to spy Tingle undressing or some other similarly horrific experience and, as a probably fortunate result, gone completely and utterly blind?"

Drool hung from Simon's lips. His eyes rolled. He groaned in pain.

"Link!" cried Hawthorne. "He just went totally crazy all of sudden – we don't know why!"

"Sucka disturbed our dinner," explained Mr C, "and then had all these fools spooked so that they think we're all demons or something."

Simon lurched some more, his lips smacking open and shut wordlessly. The Shadow Lord watched in complete bewilderment. "Are you...are you...?" He shook his head. "You don't need something ghastly like a hug now, do you, mate?"

"Treasure..." Simon moaned. "I can sense it near."

"Oh, jolly good," Link replied, grinning. "I do like it when things all fall into place like that."

"I can feel it," Simon went on. "I hear its whisper, tremble under its caress, taste its-"

"Yes. Well. Very nice." The Shadow Lord's eyes fell to the agitated crew of the Colour Ship. "Now if you mates would just let me through."

They stood their ground, the tips of the blades glinting. Link smiled, and then raised the portrait. They all looked at him in befuddlement. "If you don't move, my misguided and yet commendably efficient friends," the Shadow Lord said. "I'll kill the hostage."

"Let him through!" Excellent screamed from the cabin. "Don't let anything happen to the picture!"

Reluctantly they parted to open a path up for the Shadow Lord. He bounded over to his friends, then peered over the side of the ship. Wispy fingers of cloud flew past them at dizzying speed as Link gazed around, spying the most incredible things below – a waterfall of gold coins, giants with hammer like arms smashing mountains to powder, giggling children with wings for feet. The Shadow Lord dragged himself away as the wind howled in his ears. "Mr DeLance," he said. "Now would be a good time to tell us exactly where the Treasure is."

Simon stopped short, spun on his heels, then pointed to the opening of a tunnel that the ship was slowly floating past just at that precise moment. "There!"

"How terribly convenient!" Link cried. Under his breath, he added, "You know, I always wonder at all the little coincidences that happen to occur in Hyrule just as I'm on one of my big quests. It's really quite baffling." He looked up. "Mr... uh...Dead. A passageway, please!"

Undead flesh stretched, a makeshift rope forming from the ReDead's arm to the tunnel. With a quick nod of his head, the Shadow Lord gestured at the others to climb across. Excellent Radcliffe, her face aflame with fury, burst from the cabin just as Link began his climb.

"Wait!" the Salvage Hunter gasped, her hair and tunic rippling in the breeze. "My portrait!"

A grin on his face and a sparkle in his eye, the Shadow Lord glanced at the Melancholic Lady in Red. "You know what, love?" The Hunters froze as Link held the portrait over thin air. Excellent's face became a pale, icy sculpture of pure fear. "This is one very ugly picture." He let go.

The ReDead and Link snapped across to join their friends, the wind now carrying nothing more than Excellent' Radcliffe's piercing cry of despair drowned out by the Shadow Lord of Castleton's maniacal cackle of joy.