Though Midna and the Happy Mask Salesman took their time vacating the building, Zant practically rushed from it. He barged through the main door, stopping on the damp horsehair mat outside the door, and furtively glanced around lest any snippet of paper be fluttering about. Instead of fragments of the destroyed story, however, he beheld movement across the street. A split second later, the shadowy figure was gone and Zant was left with suspicions. "My princess," he said in a low tone as Midna stepped out into the elements. "I have reason to believe that someone has been watching us. I am going to detain them. Please excuse me." With that, he was off, moving quickly and surely over the soaked cobblestones.

Midna fluttered a hand in a gesture of exasperation. The very Hylian expression seemed out of place on her, but at least she was trying. "It is always something. Do not worry about my friend finding this perpetrator, by the way. He has... 'friends' that he calls upon when he needs help." Clearly tiring of so much standing around and walking, she shifted her weight onto her other hip. "Meanwhile, I expect that the time is drawing near that we must part ways until my speech this evening. No doubt you have duties to attend to. It has, however, been a very Happy hour," she punned, sporting a slightly mischievous grin. "See you later?"

When Zant turned on to the next street, he noted with satisfaction its vacancy. A green glow began to emanate from his body until it split away from him, forming into two transparent, holographic copies. Zant reached around to the back of his robe using his telekinesis and pulled up a series of metal plates, all of which slid upward, one after another, until they were stacked like a totem pole. Finally, a tall, pointed metal cap appeared, and from beneath this extension fell a mask and tonguelike mouthguard, completely hiding his face. Immediately, Zant's phantoms followed suit, donning their masks, before they ran in opposite directions. One darted down a nearby side street, too small for horses but fine for pedestrians, while its double floated up onto a nearby roof. Smiling invisibly to see his magic at work, Zant began to run once again.

A few minutes later, his search had failed to turn up a result. Fortunately, a familiar, spectral noise along the lines of '[i]Bwaaaaaaaaaa[/i]' heralded the success of one of his phantoms. "There is nowhere you can hide," Zant smirked as he looked skyward. After about ten seconds of scanning, he spotted the beacon: a continuous upward draft of black particles, much like a signal fire. The next moment, Zant melted away into dark specks himself, which shot up into the air.

He materialized atop a house that overlooked the scene. One of his phantoms had cornered a young man in strange clothes. This man, whose face was hidden by a green bandanna and whose hair was an ash-gray ponytail, seemed to be taunting the projection. Zant cocked his head in curiosity. As he watched, the phantom grew closer, menacing the man with scimitars, but as the projection grew close enough to strike the Hylian reared back with his muscular arm and delivered a powerful left hook to the phantom's body, instantly dispelling it. "Not bad," mused Zant, and he stepped off the roof.

Upon hearing him land, the man turned to face him. "Another one!" he growled through the bandanna. "Looks like you might be the real deal. Zant, was it? Hope you're not planning on attacking me. I've got powerful friends." 
Zant approached, paying him no heed. "Who are you working for?"
'I'm not...!"

Whiffs of a malignant dark fog eked from Zant's sleeves. "I am not renowned for my patience!" His voice when shouting contained an unnatural anger. "Lie to me again and I shall sting you. Who?"

A matching wrath had entered the man's eyes. Launching himself forward, he forcibly grabbed Zant's robe and twisted it. "Look, pal, I don't think you know who you're dealing with. You lay a finger on me, and you'll get butchered by Impa herself. Your whore princess might be able to fool some of the sheep around here with her magic tricks, but trust me, you mess with us and you're goin' down. Get it?"

For a moment, Zant was silent. Then he reached up and firmly clasped his right hand around Byrne's left. For a moment Byrne only snickered, but he soon became aware of a pain in his arm that was quickly growing. In the space of a few seconds, it reached a crescendo. Bellowing in agony, he released Zant, grabbing at his hand. It was covered in blackness and dark crystals that gave off a foul, dark smoke. Zant watched impassively as the curse spread up to Byrne's elbow but went no farther before it contorted the hand into a larger, more brutal, mechanical form. With tears leaking from his eyes, Byrne gaped at Zant with newfound, terrified wonder and stumbled back. Zant's voice reached out to him. "That hand is a powerful weapon and one of two gifts I give to you. The other is your life. You will not do or say anything that will incriminate my lady; indeed, if you do not cast us in a favorable light, the shadow will consume you. If anyone else comes snooping I will not be so lenient. [i]Get it?[/i]"

Wordless but for gasps and groans, Byrne wormed his way around Zant and ran for the street, vanishing into the rain. Zant dispelled his other phantom and started his walk back to Midna. "Oh, the things I do for a friend."