Page 41 of Of Might and Mettle

Costumed dancers milled about the courtyard, most of them being questioned by guards. He spotted a few spots of blue, dancers dressed as Elevski soldiers for the ballet, but his eyes settled on a flash of red.

Sir Thomas. He’d shed his blue coat, now wearing a red one probably stolen from a fleeing theatergoer. Antonio gestured for Gabriel to follow and they pushed through the crowds to the courtyard. Beyond the theater, hedges stretched, an elaborate maze of twists and turns that led to an interior gazebo. Sir Thomas disappeared into one darkened entrance of the maze.

Antonio stopped Gabriel. “Get more men. Block the entrances. I’m going inside.”

To his credit, Gabriel obeyed, and Antonio let himself take a breath. Help was on its way. He just needed to hold Sir Thomas long enough.

He stepped into the maze. A guard caught up to him, and before Antonio could question his loyalty, the man swiped his sword at Antonio’s leg. The metal sliced through the fabric but sparked when it hit the brass. Unbalanced now, the guard was easy for Antonio to disarm, and with a hard blow, he lay sprawled out on the stones.

Antonio sped through the maze, hearing footsteps just ahead of him. At last, the maze opened into a small clearing, where a red-leafed flamboyán looked over a gazebo. Sir Thomas stood underneath the shadows of the gazebo, breathing heavily.

“Ah, Captain Fuentes,” he said, “I thought my men would have done a better job getting rid of you.”

“They did,” he said, “but God had other plans. Just like how the Empire won’t be taking control of Monte Rico. We’re free.” He trained his revolver on Sir Thomas, just a few yards away.

He would stand between Sir Thomas and the king, the Empire and his home. He wouldn’t fail again.

“Drop the sword, Tomás,” he said, eliciting a frustrated look from Sir Thomas. “It’s over. You’re done.”

“The Emperor is far from finished,” Thomas said. But he dropped the sword, the metal clanging against the stones.

Antonio ascended the gazebo steps, now just within arm’s reach of Thomas. He kicked Thomas’s sword further away. Now, all he had to do was bind him, but he would wait for backup. It wouldn’t do to have Sir Thomas escape because Antonio was too proud to trust.

From somewhere behind him, the hedges rustled and Antonio whirled to face the interloper. But before he could see the second man, a blow to the back of his head made stars spin across his vision, and he stumbled forward. Metal screeched as a sword was unsheathed, and then all he knew was the cold flush of a blade against his neck. Sir Thomas held Antonio’s own sword against him.

Antonio leveled the gun to Thomas’s shoulder. “I’ll do it if I have to.” His mind screamed to turn and face the second, unknown intruder and know if they were friend or foe, but the cool kiss of a blade was far more pressing.

Thomas smirked. “You have too much honor to shoot an unarmed man, don’t you?”

Antonio gritted his teeth.

A shot went off. Thomas’s eyes widened and he glanced down, but no crimson marred his white shirt. Antonio pushed him back, and with a solid blow to the temple from Antonio’s revolver, Thomas crumbled unconscious.

Antonio stared at the gun in his hand in wonder.

“Thought you might need some help,” came a voice. He glanced at the hedges. To his absolute astonishment, Lorelle stepped forward, sporting a musket over her shoulder.

He was still speechless when she reached him in the gazebo. Laughing, she handed him some ribbons. “Will these do in lieu of chains?”

He took them and bound Sir Thomas’s wrists tightly behind his back, then sat him up against the flamboyán tree. He turned back to Lorelle, but she hadn’t disappeared. She really was here. Still wearing her costume as if she were just taking a break between acts, the rain bouncing off her skirt as she neared. “Thank you,” he said.

She grinned. “You didn’t tell me a musket had to be held with both hands. I blew a hole in the roof.” She looked up, to where rain trickled through a section of the roof riddled with buckshot.

Now he really laughed. “You’re amazing, you know that?”

She blushed. She removed a squirming bundle of fluff from her satchel. “I had some help from Peluche. Or do you prefer Maximiliano? I can grow to like that name, if that’s what you want.”

He didn’t know what he wanted, but it definitely wasn’t a wolf pup. He pulled her into a hug, and she leaned against him. The pup squirmed in the space between them, nipping at one of Antonio’s buttons, but he didn’t care.

“Peluche,” he said, pulling back. “His name’s Peluche. But if anyone asks, I hate it.”

She laughed, and he could have sworn he’d never heard a more beautiful sound.

Chapter twenty-four

The Inventor

“¿Quieres más?” Tía Clarisa passed the tembleque across the table. And even though she was stuffed beyond what she could imagine, Lorelle took it with a smile.