I wasn't going to publish this yet, but my Chemistry class was cancelled due to the weather, so I just had to celebrate. Enjoy!
Part Six: Broken Connections
Magdalena wore the red dress. As Renata pinned her mantilla on, she stepped over to the mirror, smoothing her hands over her skirt. I look nice, she thought. My dress is not as fancy as Senorita Verdugo's, but I think it flatters more than hers did.
She walked over to the desk and took her fan. She fastened it to the loop on the end of her sleeve and went down the stairs. Her father waited, and his face glowed with pride at the sight of her. "Your mother had a dress in that same color." He said softly. "You look just like her right now."
Magdalena felt warmth spread through her. "Diego will not be able to tear his eyes from you!" Inez exclaimed as she came down behind Magdalena. She had stayed with them that day, as her hacienda was not ready yet. Inez wore a luscious purple gown. Magdalena was surprised to see her aunt in such finery.
"Inez, you also look beautiful!" Magdalena told her, and Francisco agreed.
"Will I really have to honor of escorting two beautiful women?"
Inez giggled. "No, for Commandante Garcia is escorting me! He should be here soon. I told him to fetch me here, but take me to my own home at the end of the evening."
A carriage sounded outside. "And there he is!" Inez giggled. "Buenos noches!"
There was a full moon, just starting to rise as Magdalena and her father reached the de la Vega hacienda. There were already many guests there when they arrived. Diego and Alejandro stood greeting the guests individually as they arrived.
Diego's eyes seemed to blaze at the sight of her. Heat gathered inside her at his intense gaze. Alejandro and her father spoke briefly before they walked off so the two could welcome the rest of their guests. Soon the gate was closed and everyone went into dinner. It was a loud, jovial affair. As they ate, the guests mingled, switching tables frequently to speak with each other. Everyone was friendly, and eager to meet her.
Margarita was very friendly, speaking with great length on the subject of Los Angeles.
"It may be a small pueblo, but we have many accomplishments. And besides, what other pueblo can boast of Zorro?"
Isabella was kind, but rather preoccupied with her escort, a Don Isidoro. "You must come to visit me, Magdalena. I would be delighted to speak with you longer."
There was chicken, and rice, and gravy for the main course. Magdalena greatly enjoyed the meal; everything was perfectly done. She ate lightly, though, remembering the dancing yet to come and not wanting to be too full to dance comfortably.
Soon everyone was back out on the patio, and the musicians that had played a slow tune during the meal now prepared to strike up a livelier one. Magdalena spied many caballeros making their way towards her. She was glad to see Diego striding across the room to her side, reaching her side only moments before the others, placing his hand on her waist, lightly, guiding her onto the floor. Her attention was only on him and the other men seemed to realize it.
The musicians started to play. Diego placed his hands on her upper arms and she placed her on his and they danced a quick, spinning dance. It was over quickly and another man stepped forward to claim the next dance. She danced seven more dances, all with different partners whose dancing skills varied greatly. One would have been fit for Madrid; another made her wish she had worn riding boots instead of the delicate slippers that encased her feet. The others had mediocre skill, enough to not trample her feet, but none with particular grace. They were all rather nondescript, and the names she only remembered until Diego stepped forward to claim her for one of the last dances of the evening.
At the sight of him parting the crowded dance floor to get to her, all intelligence seemed to flee from her, and all she could think of was what moves the next dance required, and how Diego seemed to be shooting fire through her with just one look.
The dance started slower than the first: all the couples danced slowly in a circle, then separating into partners and the men clapped their hands, turning in a slow circle, clapping their hands in time to the music, before facing the women again. Diego's eyes flared each time they met hers, sending odd feelings through her, and making her short of breath. After that, the woman spun around the men, skirts flaring. The couples then weaved back and forth, twisting their torsos so that their gazes stayed locked on each other. Then Diego offered his arm and they danced a few steps like that, then Magdalena again spun around him, feeling her skirts flare. They then repeated the weaving step, gazes locked firmly on each other.
The music ended. Magdalena curtsied deeply, and Diego took hold of her hand to raise her up, bringing it to his lips. He kissed her knuckles slowly, his lips parted, and his breath warm on her hand, his eyes never leaving hers. Her breath caught in her throat for a moment at the look in his eyes. She felt a deep ache spring up in her, one that longed for Diego. His lips left her hands but their gaze held. She felt as though she were in a trance, but that feeling was quickly broken at the sound of her father's voice.
"Magdalena!"
She startled and broke Diego's gaze, turning to face her father, keeping her hand in Diego's as long as possible before he let it slip from his grasp. Francisco and Alejanrdo strode up to them.
"His Excellency the King's Magistrate wishes to meet you." Her father said, gesturing to where he stood waiting. A chill swept over her. She had honestly forgotten him. She slipped her fan into her hand as Francisco spoke. She turned to look at Galindo. He was an older, silver haired man in a plain brown suit.
Her chest hurt. "Excuse me," she tried to make her voice sound natural but it was strained, and came out stiffly. Diego nodded in farewell, bowing slightly to her. She turned to walk to Galindo's side, trailed by her father.
"Your Excellency, my daughter Magdalena Adelita. Magdalena, this is Don Carlos Galindo, the King's Magistrate."
She curtsied and he bowed slightly to her. "It is an honor to meet you," Galindo said, his voice smooth as he laid a perfunctory kiss on her hand.
"The honor is definitely mine, your Excellency," she said. One of her father's friends called to him and he drifted away. Magdalena's thoughts shouted after him, don't leave me with him!
"You have something for me?" Galindo muttered.
Don Diego's manservant—she believed his name to be Bernardo—was serving drinks nearby. She tipped her head to indicate his presence.
"He is only a deaf-mute; he can hear nothing."
Before she could stop herself, as she knew the answer, she blurted out, "Why did you kill Senor Mendoza?"
"He was sent by the Viceroy to spy on you." Galindo snapped.
"They know!" She exclaimed. She was playing the part of the ignorant, and was glad to see he didn't see through her act.
He shook his head. "Not yet; they only suspect."
"Oh, but then to kill him without—" Bernardo approached. Galindo waved him away. "Careful. We are not playing with children. Now do what you were sent to do."
Heart aching, she yanked the feather from her fan and handed it to him. He tucked it into his jacket quickly. "Buenos noches, Senorita." He muttered and slipped away.
Her father rejoined her but Magdalena's attention had turned to Diego as he spoke with Inez and Garcia. He walked right past her without saying a word. She turned to watch Galindo's path. Bernardo had blocked his path; he was trying to get him to take one of the wine glasses he offered. Diego came then, bumping into Galindo, and in one smooth motion, he had taken the feather from his pocket. Magdalena's heart jumped in her throat, thumping crazily. She felt as though it would jump clear out of her chest. Diego had taken the feather. He then strode to the sala as Garcia approached Galindo.
"Magdalena!" Came her father's voice.
She turned her attention back to him. A tall caballero stood by him. "This is Juan Fernando de la Cruz."
He bowed deeply. Magdalena curtsied to him, feeling a flush rise on her cheeks when his attention turned to her bosom. What an ill mannered man!
"It is an honor to meet you, Senorita Montes. You are more beautiful than rumors say." He said, his voice thick.
She felt a chill rise up. "Gracias," she said, as graciously as possible under the circumstances, as his gaze remained firmly on her chest.
"Dance the final dance with me, Magdalena." He said.
"Oh, I am tired—"
"Go on, Magdalena. Make fun when you can." Francisco said. Her gaze jerked to his. He lowered his voice and spoke near her ear.
"Alejandro is now planning to ask Diego whether we should announce the engagement tonight."
She looked desperately around and saw Diego bump once more into Galindo, returning the feather. It distracted her enough so that she only realized Juan had dragged her to the floor once they were there. It was a light, bobbing dance. You stepped quickly, turning in a circle, your hands meeting when occasionally. Juan's gaze still remained on her chest, occasionally darting to her hips. She felt disgust spread through her at his manners, and let her attention turn to the feather.
What did it mean? What had Diego done to the feather? Had he taken Mendoza's job and altered it somehow? Was he a spy, then, told only to act on Mendoza's death? Hope rose in her heart. If he was a spy, maybe he could assist her.
Her attention was jerked back to the dance at the touch of Juan's hand on her waist. This was not part of the steps. She jerked away from his touch but he moved closer again. At this part in the steps, the man was supposed to stand behind the woman, she'd spread her arms wide and he'd take her hands. She had spread her arms but his hands were going to her waist, and higher. She jerked sharply away from him, into someone else, whose hands on her waist did not bother her. Diego was standing behind her, pulling her tightly against him, and Juan scowled to see him there.
"I'll just cut in," Diego said smoothly. His voice sounded dangerous and cold. Juan nodded and hurried away.
Diego spun her away from him. She expected him to flirt, but his voice and gaze were as cold as when he had spoken with Juan. The dance ended soon, and Diego didn't take her hand this time.
"The evening is ending, senorita. Let me take you to your carriage." Senorita. Not Magdalena any more. Senorita. Magdalena registered the loss and wondered at it.
Indeed, the musicians were gathering up their instruments, guests were streaming to the gate, Adios ringing in the air. He took her arm in his but she pulled away, feeling his anger and not liking it.
Did he blame her for Juan's behavior? Or did he know where Galindo had received the feather? At any rate, she no longer felt the desire to speak with him of it.
They were separated suddenly: Diego had stopped to speak with someone and she had gone on. Galindo appeared out of nowhere.
"Senorita Montes, you should take this back." He snapped, shoving the feather into her hand. She took it with surprise, automatically placing it back into her fan. "Buenos noches." He said smoothly and dashed away.
She looked down at the feather again residing in her fan and realized it had definitely been cut. Diego must have done it. Galindo wouldn't have changed the order. But she didn't recognize the cut. A chill spread through her. Galindo hadn't even given her more instructions with the feather. What did that mean?
Diego was at her side again, and his gaze remained cold. It barely registered; her thoughts remained on Galindo. "Your father waits in the carriage," he said, offering his arm. She had another urge to mention the feather but he remained sullen, and they reached the gate too soon.
She felt tired. Her father leaned a hand down and she took it as she stepped up. Bernardo cupped her elbow, adding to her balance.
"Good night, Diego," she said. Her voice showed the strain the evening had taken on her. It sounded stiff again. She settled into her seat, just wanting to go home and cry herself to sleep.
"Diego, you must come and visit us as often as you like!" Her father was saying.
"You'll be surprised, senor, how soon you'll be seeing me." Diego's tone was jovial, but there seemed to be a mocking undertone.
Magdalena just couldn't summon feeling to match that knowledge.
They drove away. Her father tried, at first, to speak of the evening but when she told him she felt too tired to talk then silence came over the carriage.
She leaned against the seat and wished the carriage didn't jounce so. Her father suddenly turned in his seat.
"We are being followed!" He said and immediately quickened the horses pace. She reenergized quickly, panic quickening her heartbeat.
This had something to do with the feather, of that she was certain. Maybe the Viceroy's distrust of her had extended to telling the spies to alter the feather to kill her. Had Diego done this? Had he knowingly signed her death warrant?
The rider behind them had almost reached the carriage when he raised a gun and took aim. Magdalena heard the crack and expected death. But no. Her father was crumpling to the floor of the carriage. She tried to reach for him but his hands stayed clutching the reins. "Oh, give me the reins!" She said, and he finally relinquished hold.
She took them, and grabbed the whip, snapping it to urge the horses ever faster. The horses were going faster and faster and she was afraid she'd lose control of them. The road curved and she felt sick. They cleared the corner and her heartbeat returned to normal.
Then she felt the carriage jolt as someone jumped on the back. She chanced a glance and saw a glint of silver. He had a knife! She wasn't sure but she thought she heard a second horse join the first. The bandito was getting hold on the carriage and trying to stab her. With a desperate sob she leaned forward in her seat, almost standing, whipping the horses faster. Suddenly, there was a second jolt.
Someone had joined the bandito. She chanced another look. "Dios!" Came her gasp. The second one was dressed all in black. Alejandro's words came back to her. His horse, as black as his clothes, is the fastest in the country. It had to be Zorro. He was fighting the bandito for control of the knife, pushing him away from Magdalena. They were struggling back there, for hold on the carriage and for control of the knife. She turned in her seat, and saw that the bandito was on top. She tightened her grip on the whip handle, turning it in her hands, and lowered it fiercely onto his head, putting all her strength into the blow. He fell. She turned back to the horses, feeling as Zorro climbed into the carriage beside her. He was trying to stop the horses, climbing between them to calm them. They finally slowed, then stopped. Zorro jumped down from his perch, dashing to fetch her father.
He carefully pulled him from the carriage, carrying him towards the nearby forest area, and seating him on a stump. On shaking legs, Magdalena struggled down from the carriage and ran to them. "Will he be all right?" She begged Zorro, but he ignored her as he pulled her father's jacket off, to inspect his arm. He was squeezing it tight to staunch the blood flow. They both were leaning over her father. Zorro's hat was shading her father, restricting her view of his arm. He finally pulled away.
His voice was harsh as he spoke. "It's not serious, but he should see a doctor."
She also straightened, letting out the breath she hadn't realized she was holding in a gasp of relief. "I don't know how to thank you." She told him, gazing up in wonder at his face.
"And after he's seen a doctor, take the first boat back." He continued. Magdalena lowered her gaze from his face as he spoke. He also knew! Francisco's head also jerked up at these words.
"Your plot has already caused the death of one man, but at least you've shown me that it extends all the way to Mexico City." He turned to leave. Magdalena was looking away from Zorro's face, unable to bear his searing, angry gaze. With a jolt, she remembered a different gaze of the evening—the only other that had been this intense—Diego's. No, it cannot be!
"Senor Zorro, what does this mean?" Her father asked. Zorro halted, turning back to him, his tone derisive.
"Perhaps your daughter found life in the capital dull." He turned his searing gaze back to Magdalena and she met it in angry shock.
Madre di Dios! She had seen those eyes before!
"Did you get excitement?" Was his harsh query.
"Believe me; I did not know anyone would be hurt!" She cried passionately. It was true. She had only thought that the agents would be hurt, by discovery.
"Well, someone was hurt!" He snapped back, fast as a whip crack and just as painful. "And that feather you carry," he said, noticing it in her fan which she had unknowingly spread in her distress. "It nearly caused your own death!"
She turned again in shame, trying to bring herself to her own defense and failing. His words cut too deep; rang too true. "Oh, why didn't you let him kill me?" She begged, her voice bordering on a sob.
"I will be a long time explaining that to myself." He started to his horse. She got minor control over her emotions. I need to say something! She thought desperately, turning to Zorro.
"Magdalena!" Her father said, placing his hand on her arm to still her.
"Oh, later, father!" She pleaded, and he withdrew his arm, hearing desperation in her voice.
She watched Zorro mount. What could she say?
"Adios, Magdalena!" He snapped, mock saluting her.
The way he said her name confirmed it. It was Diego. She felt sure of that. He was riding away, getting farther and farther. Magdalena could only shake her head, and tears started to pour down her face.
"Magdalena?" Her father asked cautiously.
She only shook her head. "We need to get you to a doctor," she said, making no move to slow the tears as she gathered up her father's jacket. "I will drive, but you must direct me." They made their way back to the carriage. Magdalena got in first, turning to help her father.
"What did Zorro mean?" He asked softly.
She inhaled deeply. Where to begin? "There is currently a large group of conspirators who mean to take over California. Their leader is called the Eagle, and they communicate with eagle feathers, cut specially in code. I am a member of this, but I have not wished to be for a long time, father," she said as she drove, "I wanted to leave it the day after I joined but even then I knew too much and was at the same time too excited by it. I was torn—stay or leave. The choice was too easy—death was promised to all deserters. I stayed." She said simply. "I carried—I still do, for it was returned to me—a feather with me tonight that signaled my own death. I gave it to the Magistrado—"
"Carlos Galindo is involved in this?" Came her father's outraged gasp.
She nodded grimly. "Many of the Eagle's best officers hold positions in the government. I gave the feather to him tonight. He was the one who sent that bandito after us."
"But how did Senor Zorro know to come?"
Magdalena fell silent. Finally, she said simply, "I don't know. I will tell more tomorrow. Now I need to concentrate." The moon had gone behind a cloud and it was harder to see the road. She now slowed the horses pace; they hadn't been going that fast anyway. They finally reached the pueblo, and Magdalena directed the carriage to the doctor's house. Once there, Magdalena jumped from the carriage and ran to his door. She pounded hard, so as to be heard.
"Wait, wait, I'm coming!" A voice said, and the door soon creaked open.
"My father has been injured; a bandito waylaid us and shot him in the arm!" She said in a torrent of words. It seemed Doctor Avila hadn't been sleeping anyway, for he was still dressed.
He and Magdalena hurried to the carriage and brought her father inside. He was a while tending him, then the doctor returned to the small room where Magdalena waited.
"He'll be fine. It was only a flesh wound; the bullet was not in the arm. It went clean through. He is resting now, but soon you can go one home. There is no need for him to stay the night."
"Gracias." Magdalena said, sinking into a chair.
"You were waylaid by banditos, you say?" He inquired, also sitting.
"Si, no, just one. He had a gun and he shot my father. Then he jumped onto the back of the carriage and tried to stab me. Zorro came then—"
"Zorro?" He said, sounding surprised. "You must be important, Senorita Montes. He usually only rides to correct the most grievous wrongs."
Those words made her think—what if he was correcting a wrong? The feather again. Diego had to have cut it. Could it have been a mistake? Was he just a foolish as her? Or are you simply an idioto, to carry things that have no meaning for you...
Was he simply rash, cutting messages that didn't hold an absolute meaning for him? Guessing at the results? Hoping for one, achieving another?
All these events since she'd left the de la Vega hacienda had been instigated by him. And all the events since you met with Senor Alenez were instigated by you. Don't think you can pin this on him.
"I…maybe it was just by chance Zorro was there."
"Or maybe he too found himself entranced by you. I heard the de la Vega boy is head over heels for you. Will Zorro be competition?" Doctor Avila asked amiably, but there was a sharp glint in his eyes.
She blushed. "I—I don't know about that."
He laughed. "Ah, don't mind me. Here is Francisco now. You should take him over to the tavern and spend the night there. But wait, what happened to the bandito?" He asked.
"He fell from the carriage and impaled himself on his own knife." Francisco told him. His right arm was in a sling.
"Ah. Those who live by the sword shall die by the sword. Adios," he said, guiding them to the door.
"Buenos noches. And gracias." Magdalena said quickly.
"Senorita, you are obviously of some great worth if Zorro himself came to your aid." Doctor Avila said.
'Who knows Zorro's mind!" She said lightly. "Buenos noches."
"We should be getting on." Francisco said. "Again, gracias."
They left his house. "Well, let us go on to the tavern. Doctor Avila is right. It would take too long now to get back to the hacienda. You will drive, please."
Magdalena climbed on, and her father grasped her hand tightly as he got up.
The drove quietly to the tavern. Sergeant Garcia was there, and he looked very surprised to see them. "What has happened, Don Francisco?"
"A bandito shot me," Francisco said tersely. "Zorro saved us."
"Zorro? I did not realize you had so much importance, Senor and Senorita. Zorro does not ride lightly. What about the other bandito?"
"He fell and impaled himself on his own knife," Francisco said. "We just finished at Doctor Avila's. Please, we must get to bed. Wait, Sergeant, could you ride to our hacienda in the morning and ask the servants to bring some clothes for us. And bring Magdalena's maid. You could take my carriage."
"Si, of course, Don Francisco. Buenos noches," Sergeant Garcia said solemnly. He stepped aside to let them pass.
"May we have two rooms, just for the night?"
Senor Gonzales, who had been listening, took two keys. "Follow me." The innkeeper led them to two rooms adjacent to each other.
"I'm sorry to hear banditos attacked you. They get worse everyday. Good thing Zorro was there, eh?"
"Si. Buenos noches."
"Buenos noches…" Tio said, and went back down the stairs.
Magdalena said goodnight and went into the room, locking the door and sagging against it. This night had been too long.
The room was acceptable. A small table, with a bowl of water for washing placed on it, a bed and a chair. She pulled her mantilla from her head, and started to further undress, not lighting a candle for the moon was bright. She pulled pins from her hair and it tumbled down her back. She removed the jewelry, placing the pieces on the small table. She started on the dress; it was hard to undo alone and took her a bit to get the hang of it. Her arms were tired by the time she finished and was able to slip it off, laying it over the chair. Her laces proved to be impossible, though, and she resigned herself to sleeping in them, bending to remove her shoes and stockings.
Now she got into the bed, pulling the covers tight around her, and falling asleep almost instantly.
A/N: This was a rather bittersweet chapter to write, because it marks the end of the actual episode, and it was also difficult, because it took awhile to decide just how much Magdalena should figure out. So she did figure out some, but mostly I just had her asking questions. But isn't there something that says that knowledge is sometimes just asking the right questions? Or if you ask the right questions, you are already halfway to the answer? Whatever. (I can't remember if this was actually a saying, so don't mind me.)
Also, on something completely unrelated to Far Longer Than Forever(a title that I am slightly regretting) does anyone know what color eyes Ricardo has? (And if you don't watch the colorized version, never mind.) I'd say gray. Would that be correct, in your minds?