DISCLAIMER: If you recognize it, I don't own it.

When the next day finally dawned, hardly anyone in town noticed. The sky was covered in dark gray clouds that covered the sun, and the light which managed to seep through was pale and weak. Thunderclouds were gathering in the distance, accompanied by faint rumbling and flashes of light. A cold wind swept over the roofs and through the streets.

Maria shivered and pulled her coat tighter around herself as she stepped into the street. The walk home seemed agonizingly long: she had spent the rest of the night with the Mondragons after her husband's departure, making sure Ixa was unharmed. There were no burns on her skin or clothing, but she wouldn't stop trembling and murmuring about "wickedness afoot, terrible wickedness." A cup of tea calmed her nerves somewhat, and eventually she managed to drift off into a light sleep.

"You need any help with the kids?" Maria asked Joaquin as they sat and watched her.

He shook his head. "I'll take over from here. You should get home."

"But - "

"I can look after my family, Maria," he said. "You need to look after yours."

When she opened the front door, she found herself in a dark and empty parlor. "Manolo?" she called out. No answer from the kitchen or dining room, nor from upstairs. "Mi amor?"

He'd been angry and stubborn when they spoke last, and so had she. But he had also been afraid - deathly so, in fact. Maria hadn't seen the panic in his eyes at the time, but now the sight was beginning to churn in her mind. I need to find him.

She slowly approached the staircase, looking upwards for a glimpse of his form. "Can we talk?"

"Papa isn't here…"

She turned around. Ofelia was still on the sofa, her hair and glasses disheveled as she lay curled beneath a blanket. Chuy was at her feet, frowning and growling in his sleep.

"Where's your father, mija?"

The girl shrugged. "He left with you."

"You mean he hasn't come back?"

Ofelia shook her head. "I waited. Is he okay?"

"I think so," she lied. This isn't right. Manolo wouldn't dare leave their girl alone if he believed she was in danger, not as long as he was breathing.

"Is Aunt Ixa okay?"

"Yes, Aunt Ixa's okay. But now I need to go find your papa. Go upstairs and get some sleep, Ofelia."

The girl nodded and slowly pulled herself off the sofa, still wrapped in the blanket. "Are you going to come back?"

Maria hesitated before putting on a smile. "We'll be home before you know it." She touched the knife beneath her coat as she left, quietly closing the door behind her.

Ofelia thought she heard a window creak as she climbed the stairs, but nothing happened when she stopped to listen. Shaking her head, she finished ascending the steps, trudged down the hall and slipped into her bedroom.

"Are you sure he didn't come in for a while? I know sometimes he…"

"I haven't seen him anywhere, Señora Sanchez," the bartender answered. "Lo siento."

The more Maria asked around, the more likely it seemed that Manolo had somehow vanished from the island altogether. None of his friends had seen him in his usual hiding places, nor was there any word of him from the shopkeepers. She even went to her father and the soldiers, only to be told that they'd been on patrol all night and not seen a sign of him. Not even leaving town.

"It's about time!" a drunken voice shouted from the corner of the cantina - one of the farmers. "Good riddance, that's what I say. You've no reason to…"

He yelped as he suddenly found himself being lifted off his feet by his shirt collar, staring into Maria's eyes as they gleamed with rage. She was ready to fling him across the room when a hand grabbed her shoulder.

"And what," Valeria asked as her eyes darted between the two figures, "is going on here?"

Glaring at the man one more time, Maria dropped him on the ground. "I should be on my way." Before anyone could speak up, she was pushing a path through the gathered crowd and back out into the street.

"Wait." Valeria was behind her, standing with her arms folded. "Something is troubling you."

She paused. "I…" Manolo's words from the previous night suddenly ran through her mind, even as she tried to force them out. "It probably isn't something you could help me with."

"Tell me," the older woman said. "I insist."

Maria sighed and rubbed her temples. "I don't really know how to explain it."

"I was just going back to the church," Valeria said. "Come with me."

"I really need to keep looking for…"

"Your husband? Perhaps I can help."

The carriage had been brought around to the side door of the church when the women arrived. Valeria's assistants were marching back and forth, carrying chests which they packed inside their traveling quarters.

"You're leaving?" Maria asked.

Valeria nodded. "In a day or so. My work here is nearly done."

They wound up the narrow staircase, Valeria walking briskly and Maria following with new hesitation. "You said you could help me find Manolo?" the younger woman asked.

"We may certainly discuss it." There was a faraway lilt in her voice. "I have a pot of tea brewing. A foreign blend of some sort. I believe you will find it well-suited to your tastes."

The rooms upstairs were emptier than they had been the day before, yet somehow seemed more cluttered. Papers and books which had been in stacks were not strewn across the floor, as though knocked over in a scuffle. For some reason, it made Maria shudder.

"You mustn't mind the clutter," Valeria said. "Do sit down."

The tea was a very dark green, nearly black, and it smelled more like smoke than anything drinkable. Maria had to force herself not to wrinkle her nose at the smell. Valeria was watching, however, so she brought the cup to her lips and took a few gulps. Just as strong and bitter as it looked.

"Father Domingo will need to be looked after a while yet," said Valeria, who poured herself a cup but did not touch it. "He is not yet well enough to move."

"I'm sure the nuns will take good care of him…"

Setting her elbows on the table, the older woman stared into her eyes. "Now, tell me of what is troubling you."

For a reason she couldn't quite place, Maria wasn't sure how much she ought to tell. She spoke of Manolo's strange behavior that afternoon, how he had pushed them away. How they had heard Ixa's screams and the state she was found in, but not about what had apparently caused it. "And then Manolo…he kind of freaked out."

"How so?" It was the first remark Valeria had made since the younger woman began the tale.

"I think he was scared. He started saying that we had to leave, and then he was talking about all this weird stuff…"

"What did he say?"

"…Nothing important."

"But you could tell me if you wanted."

"The point is, then he ran off because I got mad and now I can't find him anywhere." She gulped down the last of her tea, shuddering at the taste.

Valeria's face remained a placid mask. "Hmmm."

"I need you to help me, Valeria! I think he might be in danger!"

"And what makes you say that?"

"Because he'd never leave us. Especially not like this."

"You seem very certain of that."

"Because I know him. And if you aren't going to help me find him, then…" Maria stood up, only to wobble and grab the edge of the table as a wave of drowsiness and nausea swept over her. "Then…"

"Is something wrong?"

She rubbed her forehead as she tried to take a step towards the door. "I-I'm fine…"

"No need to lie," Valeria said, standing and walking towards her. "The brew does that to people."

"What do you…?" Then her eyes flew to the empty cup. "What the hell did you put in that tea?"

"Hush now."

Her legs were going numb, and then they suddenly gave out from under her. The same thing happened to her arms as she tried to pull herself towards the door. Her throat wouldn't let her cry out for help, no matter how hard she tried. The last thing she saw before blacking out was Valeria kneeling over her, concern and sorrow written on her face.

"I'm sorry it had to come to this, my dear," the older woman whispered. "But you will see clearly when you wake."