“The what?”
“Didn’t think I’d recognize you, eh? I’ve been around long enough to remember when your mother was still in charge. I know who you are, son,andwho’s looking for you right now.”
Bloody hell.
“I demand you release me!”
“Not a chance. Your daddy will put up a fair amount of dough for your return. What he plans on doing with you, one can only imagine. I doubt even the son of the great comandante can be pardoned for abandoning his duty as a soldier.”
If this man knew half of the things Ignacio knew about “thegreat comandante,” he wouldn’t be so worried over Ignacio’s desertion. Or perhaps the jailer wouldn’t care at all. There were so many people in this world who would happily turn the other way, so long as their lives were left unaffected, or they could benefit.
Ignacio eyed the bars. They were old but well made. He obviously couldn’t break himself out by prying them loose. He turned to the small door at the rear. The lock sealing him inside was the size of his head. But the hinges…now those looked as if they hadn’t seen maintenance in ages. The welds were even cracked in some spots. If he was going to chance an escape, he’d have to do it fast. He wasn’t sure how long he’d been knocked out. Who knew how far he was from the carnival now or how close they were to the barracks.
Ignacio had to get away. He had to figure out who knew his father’s secrets. He needed to bring the comandante and King Amadeo to justice for what they’d done.
Was it Esmeralda who wrote to his father? She had used this ink before.
No. She would never. She hated Father. But who knew if that was still true? There was no telling what Esmeralda was capable of anymore.
But, dammit, she looked good. Distractingly so. When she had worked as his father’s runner, she’d been the prettiest girl Ignacio had ever seen. Now she was beyond beautiful. Her cheeks had filled in a bit. Other places too. She had never donned makeup when they were growing up, but the deep purple lipstick she wore when he caught her behind the Big Topbrought out the plumpness of her mouth. A mouth he’d once tasted.
He shook his head to break his thoughts apart.
She had you arrested. She knocked you out with a blastedegg.
It was his turn to return the favor. Not the knocking out part, of course. But he could be cold. He could be callous.
Perhaps it was petty to want to hurt her. Perhaps it was wrong. But Esmeralda Montero had cut him to his very core, and he’d been living in a state of brokenness ever since. Getting back at her might be the thing to finally mend the damage caused to his heart.
But first, he had to escape this jailer.
Carnival Fantástico did not stay in one location for long, and the train pulling the attractions from city to city moved at an incredible speed. Knowing how skittish she was, he doubted Esmeralda would even be there by the time he caught up to the traveling circus again.
The jailer began to hum the same irritating tune that played on a loop at Carnival Fantástico. Silently, Ignacio slithered to the other end of the barred cart. He lay on his back and placed his boots on the iron slates of the small door. He heaved.
Saints, the door is heavy.
The lock made a great clatter. The jailer peered over his shoulder.
“Stop that right now!” he yelled.
“I’d rather not.” Ignacio gritted his teeth and grunted as he shoved his legs upward yet again.
“Stop that!” the jailer pulled back on the reins.
Tiny dots danced in Ignacio’s vision, but he didn’t rest. Not until the hinges gave out and the door broke, held up by only the giant lock. He scrambled to his hands and knees and squeezed through the opening, tumbling onto the dirt.
“I said stop!” the jailer screamed.
But Ignacio was already running away, bolting as hard and as fast as he could in the direction they had just come from. Praying to the gods once written about in fairy tales that he wasn’t toolate.
Chapter 9
Esmeralda
Esmeralda grunted as she tried to lift one of Camila’s dumbbells. Camila grinned and took it, jesting about Esmeralda’s weak arms before chucking the heavy metal into an already heavy trunk.
Sometimes they stayed in a town for multiple days. Sometimes only one night. When the ringmaster decided he’d had his fill or the laughter in the Big Top dulled, the carnival was immediately packed up into wagons, which would be wheeled onto the train or stuffed into boxcars and secured for departure once the carnival closed. In the ten months since she, Gabriel, and the Sánchezes joined the carnival, they had almost always convened at the sisters’ wagon to help the girls pack…and to gossip.
