As he woke, Diego struggled against the ropes binding his hands roughly to the wall. He felt his heart beat wildly as he surveyed the room slowly. Victoria was already there, tied and gagged and glaring into the far corner. The sergeant and a rather frantic looking alcalde were also tied securely. What concerned him the most was the unconscious form of his father.

His own head pounded slightly, and rousing had been difficult in the stifling tavern. His eyes hadn't adjusted to the gloom of the darkened room, but he could sense the other man. He struggled again, a little more determinedly, but the man knew his ropes, and there was no loosening his handiwork.

The gag made his mouth dry, and prevented him from murmuring comfort to Victoria. As usual when faced with danger, she was frightened but defiant. Sweat beaded on the forehead of the alcalde, and the sergeant was paralysed with fear. Diego closed his eyes and concentrated on the darkness and his breathing. Everyone else was afraid.

The man stepped into the dimly lit circle of light and Diego recognised him with a start. Ricardo Quintana. His wife, a rather miserable looking medium, had been discredited, but only after causing trouble and raking up old memories and old pains.

"She died last month. You see, she had no notion what prison can do to the human spirit," Ricardo said bitterly, pacing the floor of the dimly lit room.

"She was a fraud and a thief, just like you, Quintana. She helped you cheat the people of this pueblo out of thousands of pesos," Alejandro retorted, before taking a deep breath to calm himself. "I'm sorry she's dead, but your sentences were just. . ."

Ricardo knelt down, and Diego held his breath. Would the madman hurt his father for speaking out? No, Quintana was just making sure that Alejandro was gagged securely. Diego struggled again with his ropes, but as before it was no use.

Ricardo stood up, stretching to his full height. He made sure they were all focusing on him, obviously delighting in the idea of being able to speak without interruption.

"Every night after she died, every night, I lay in my cell, planning my escape, dreaming of my revenge. And now that precious moment has arrived."

Diego watched the man walk across the room, and stoop to pick up a keg. Whatever the keg was full of, it wasn't going to end well, Diego realised.

"You five upright citizens were all, in some way, responsible for our capture."

Something about revenge, and of course that was something to do with the woman. He was going to punish them all, especially Zorro himself. He talked like a man crazed, and Diego struggled to follow the gist of what he was saying, as he struggled again with the ropes – this time more carefully. The crazy glint in the man's eyes drifted to Diego in turn, as he explained their certain death.

How long did they have? Diego waited with the others to be told, trying to appear like he was shaking in his boots along with the others. His father was still recovering consciousness, and was glancing around carefully.

Diego's eyes travelled the room again. Ricardo traced out a line of black powder, setting the rest of the keg against the far wall. A rather long line…. The tavern would go up and they would perish in the explosion. At least it would be quick, he reasoned with himself.

No, their captor was describing somewhat gleefully how he had arranged matters so that they would have many moments of realising that their dreams now would never come true. He saw Victoria glance away, and his father frown. The sergeant mumbled something into his gag, and the alcalde's eyes took on a look of intense panic.

The man lit the line of powder, and then strode confidently out of the room, declaring that Zorro would surely be next. They were left in silence.

Diego watched as Louis Ramon struggled to stretch his legs towards a nearby cupboard. He wasn't going to reach it, or if he did it would take a miracle. All of them held their breath, almost choking on the rough cloth gags in their mouths. The cupboard fell, but missed the flame by inches. Everyone shook their head in unison at such a disappointment.

Diego watched as Ramon started to stare into space. He was wondering what was crossing the man's mind, and after a while, the expression on the alcalde's face made Diego think he was finally losing his mind. The sergeant started daydreaming as well, dazed by the heat and airlessness of the room.

Victoria's eyes watched the flame as it travelled towards the keg. How much time did they have? Oh yes, he remembered now. He wanted to tell her not to lose hope, not to lose faith. The stupid gag…if only the man was as incompetent as the lancers. Then they would have a hope of escape.

She dozed off, and Diego reasoned that it was a blessing in disguise. The look of despair on her features was terrifying. He closed his eyes, and focused on the darkness in his head. What could he do? What hope did they have, anyway?

What had been his dreams? The dreams that had come to nothing, that had crumbled to dust? He tried to remember to concentrate on the solution to their predicament, but he slowly found himself drifting. It was too hot, too airless, and far too hard to stay awake.

He dreamed as soon as he drifted into a light sleep.

He was in church. Standing by the altar. Dressed in his black silk Zorro outfit, complete with mask and cape. His hat sat on a pew nearby. Music played, and Diego was almost startled awake by the realisation that Victoria was dressed in white and approaching him from the opposite side of the church, arm in arm with his beaming father. Was he getting married?

She smiled at him. Such a smile! It dazzled him. The padre smiled at him, and nodded. He gazed at the guests in the church. Not a soldier to be seen. No alcalde. Just friends, just family. And Victoria looking like an angel.

The padre's words were unheard, but Diego had seen enough weddings to know what he said. Diego answered automatically, with no thought required. Victoria did the same.

As he raised the veil, her hand went to his mask.

"There's no danger here, Zorro. No secrets between husband and wife. Start as you mean to finish," Padre Benitez said softly.

The mask came off, and they embraced. The mask drifted to the church floor, and he woke startled.

He saw the table with the bottle of open wine. He saw the flickering flame travelling closer to the keg. Diego kicked out with all his strength, once, twice, three times.

The table jerked, and the wine fell on its side, splashing the flame. The light flickered and died with a cloud of steam. Diego sighed with relief, avoiding the surprised glances of his fellow prisoners.

He was the hero of the hour, and without wielding a sword for once.