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

"Everyone stop!"

The roar of the crowd in the town square softened to scatters of frightened babble as the arriving figure made his presence known. The sound of hoofbeats on cobblestone quickly cleared a path, and everyone watched as the familiar sight of Joaquin and Plata came galloping into their midst.

The soldier halted in front of his father's statue, but did not dismount. He had donned all his regalia: jacket, even his sombrero. Both his swords were strapped to his back, his bandoliers were full, a pistol hung from his belt and he wore an eyepatch with a silver circle stitched into the leather. He still made for an impressive picture, even as his remaining eye glinted and darted with fear.

"Everyone." He cleared his throat as he tried to think of what Maria would say, even though the chance that her words would be heeded in this particular case were rapidly dwindling. "I know you're all frightened, but that's exactly what whoever did this wants. I've seen this sort of thing before - it's just oil poured on water and lit up. Nothing more than an old bandit trick."

"Is it?"

Joaquin stiffened as the crowd slowly parted to admit another newcomer. Valeria looked as though she had aged twenty years in less than an hour: her hair had turned completely white, and she was balancing on a cane clutched in one shaking hand. Her assistants walked behind her, carrying a long wooden box still streaked with dirt.

"I have seen this before as well," she said, observing the crowd. "It is the work of a demon."

Another wave of feverish whispers swept through the townsfolk. "Prove it!" someone shouted.

"You have one among you at this very moment," she said. "The one which calls itself Manolo Sanchez."

"That's nonsense!" a woman yelled, and a number of people murmured in agreement. "Since when has that man ever hurt one of us? You have no proof!"

"Mondragon would know!" one of the shopkeepers declared. "He's been seen with them!"

Valeria fixed her sharp eyes on Joaquin. "Well?"

Joaquin's gaze flew around the sea of faces. "They…"

No. He couldn't follow his friends' instructions, not yet. "…They pose no threat to us."

"Alright, that's quite enough!" General Posada shouted, motioning for his soldiers to start herding people towards the fringes of the square. "All civilians must return to their homes at once. My men and I shall take care of the obstruction."

Valeria turned and nodded to her assistants, who dragged the box into the center of the square. "So you wish for proof of what Manolo Sanchez truly is," she said. "Then look upon him for yourselves!"

Opening the coffin, her assistants dumped its contents onto the cobblestones for all to see.

The people of San Angel screamed and recoiled at what appeared: the graying and rotting skin, the exposed bones, the frayed blue suit, the stony face which was still undeniably that of Manolo. A number of people fainted. Joaquin turned pale and looked away as he fought to keep his own cries of horror inside his throat.

Valeria was unmoved. "You have all been deceived by this creature residing amongst you," she declared, "and now you shall pay a dreadful price unless you follow my commands."

"Yes!" many shouted. "Let's get that thing before it gets us!"

"This is a trick!" others shouted back. "Manolo's alive!"

The crowd in the square was beginning to split in two: half gathered around Valeria, while the other half drifted towards Joaquin.

"I can capture it once and for all," Valeria continued. "You need only help me track it down."

"Search every house!" one of her assistants commanded. "Tear it to pieces if you must!"

"You'll do no such thing!" General Posada shouted at him.

"Then are we to let this unholy creature destroy us?"

Half the crowd scream out their agreement and surged forward, threatening to spill out into the streets. The other half bolstered itself, prepared to push against them.

I gotta stop this. Flicking Plata's reins, Joaquin galloped into the center of the confusion. "I know where they are!"

The people fell silent, tensing up as they stared at him.

"I've been speaking with them," he continued before anyone could speak up, "and they have a message for Señora Santillian." He glared at the old woman. "Come to my house at sunrise. Wait outside. If you give them what they want…" He paused, hating the sound of his own words. "They'll return the favor."

His work done, he galloped away without another word.

When he returned home, he found himself unable to look his wife in the eye. "I said what they told me to."

Ixa nodded. "They're still talking."

He crept upstairs and down the hall, towards one of the spare bedrooms. The door stood ajar, and he peered inside before knocking. Ofelia lay tucked beneath the sheets, squirming as she pretended to sleep. At the foot of the bed sat her parents, their hands clasped as they whispered to one another.

Maria was hanging her head. "I know, but you tried to tell me and - "

Manolo gently placed a hand under her chin and lifted it up. "Did you mean well? Did you do the best you could?"

"I-I tried…"

"Then you haven't failed us."

"If this doesn't work - "

"It will." He kissed her, then rested his forehead on hers. "I trust you."

Joaquin cleared his throat, causing them to look up. "Did you talk to her?" Maria asked.

"Yeah. They…they'll be here, I guess."

Maria took a few shuddering breaths. "Good. Good…"

The next few hours seemed to fly by. The four adults sat together in the parlor, saying little as they watched the world outside through the slightly parted curtains. The grandfather clock struck midnight, then one, and so on. The chimes sounded harsher each time. When six came around, the sky was beginning to grow lighter and murmuring voices could be heard from outside.

Manolo slowly stood up, helping Maria to her feet as well. "Can we ask something of you?" he said, looking at Joaquin.

"Of course."

"If we don't come back…" He paused, trying to keep himself under control.

Maria wrapped her arms around one of his. "Will you take care of Ofelia for us? Make sure she's safe?"

Joaquin and Ixa nodded.

"Where are you going?"

They turned. Ofelia stood in the parlor doorway, a blanket still wrapped around her shoulders as she looked up at her parents.

"Ay, mija…" Approaching his daughter, Manolo knelt before her and took her hands in his. "Your mama and I love you more than anything else. That's why we have to go out there and see Miss Valeria. We need to keep you safe. Do you understand?"

To his surprise, the girl's face remained calm as she nodded. "Si, Papa."

"Promise us you'll be good for Aunt Ixa and Uncle Joaquin," Maria said, kneeling at her husband's side.

"And say hola to everyone in the graveyard when you see them again," Manolo added. "Tell them we're sorry we can't be there."

"I will."

Manolo hugged her, burying his face in her shoulder so she couldn't see his tears. "If there was another way - "

"It's alright, Papa," she said, putting her arms around him and patting the back of his head. "I know."

He had to force himself to let her go. When Maria had finished with her as well, they both walked towards the door. As he reached for the handle, he paused and looked back at her. "This wouldn't be happening if it wasn't for me."

Maria took his hand and squeezed it. "If I'd known," she said quietly, "I still would have chosen you."

She adjusted the bottle hidden inside her coat, and they stepped out into the growing daylight.