Chapter 14: The Devil in the Dark
Isabela didn’t stay for the battle in the courtyard. She knew the layout. She had studied the blueprints in the city archives that morning.
She ran down the spiraling stone stairs, shooting a guard who tried to block her path. She grabbed his keys.
The water in the lower dungeon was knee-deep now. She waded through the filth, shouting his name.
“Nahuel! Nahuel!”
“Isabela!” The voice was weak, coming from the end of the hall.
She fumbled with the keys. The third one clicked. She threw the door open.
Nahuel was sagging in his chains. She rushed to him, unlocking the manacles. He fell into her arms, heavy and cold.
“You came,” he whispered, coughing up water. “You crazy woman, you came.”
“I told you,” she cried, supporting his weight. “We carry it together.”
“How… how many did you bring?”
“Enough,” she said. “We have to go. The boat is waiting on the north side.”
They stumbled out of the cell. Nahuel leaned on her, his strength slowly returning as the adrenaline hit his system. He picked up a sword from a fallen guard.
They reached the top of the stairs, emerging onto the ramparts. The battle was raging below. Smoke filled the air.
“Going somewhere?”
They froze.
Captain Valeriano stood on the walkway blocking their path to the sea wall. He held a pistol in one hand and his saber in the other. His uniform was singed, his face twisted in a mask of pure hate.
“I should have killed you the moment I saw you at the market,” Valeriano spat.
He raised the pistol at Isabela.
Nahuel didn’t think. He didn’t have his full strength, but he had his instinct. He shoved Isabela down and lunged forward.
The pistol fired. Bang.
The bullet grazed Nahuel’s shoulder, spinning him around.
Valeriano laughed and charged with the saber. “Die, dog!”
Nahuel parried the strike with his stolen sword, the metal clashing with a shower of sparks. But Nahuel was weak. Valeriano drove him back, step by step, toward the edge of the rampart. A fifty-foot drop to the jagged rocks below.
“You are nothing!” Valeriano screamed, slashing Nahuel’s chest. “You are dirt!”
Nahuel fell to one knee. Valeriano raised his sword for the killing blow.
“Goodbye, Ghost.”
Click.
Valeriano froze.
He looked behind him. Isabela was standing there, holding the sentry’s musket she had picked up. The barrel was pressing against the back of Valeriano’s head.
“He is not dirt,” Isabela said, her voice trembling with rage. “He is a King.”
Valeriano spun around to slash at her—
BOOM.
Isabela pulled the trigger.
The shot caught Valeriano in the chest. The force lifted him off his feet. He staggered back, teetering on the edge of the wall. He looked at Isabela with wide, shocked eyes.
Nahuel stood up. He walked over and kicked Valeriano in the chest.
“Go to hell,” Nahuel said.
Valeriano fell backward, disappearing into the dark water below.
