He grinned. “My honor doesn’t mean much, does it? I like you, lass.”
“I can’t say the same.”
Carlos narrowed his eyes. “You go first.”
Poppy raised her lantern to illuminate the passage for Spargo.
Just then, the light flashed over Spargo’s hand, setting the rings and jewels he wore to glimmering. And Carlos saw something he hadn’t noticed before. On Spargo’s pinky finger, he wore a heavy gold ring set with a rectangular garnet, with a gold cross set over the stone.
Carlos knew that ring. Mateo had worn it every day of his life. On the band, Carlos knew that he’d find three stars on each side, a symbol used by Mateo’s family as a play on their name.
“I’ll be taking that ring,” he told Spargo, in a very quiet voice.
Spargo glanced down at it, then back up to Carlos. “It’s not for sale.”
“I’m not here to buy it, hijo de la semilla. I’m going to return it to the family of the man you killed for it. Mateo Vega.”
All at once, Spargo put the pieces together. Finally.
But by then Carlos was already rushing toward him.
Bodies collided. Dimly, he heard a scream, and the light went out.
Carlos and Spargo each fought as if their lives depended on the outcome—which was exactly the case. Spargo first went for Carlos’s gun, and nearly grabbed it. Carlos hurled it away into the darkness rather than let his opponent get it, or risk Poppy getting shot.
But he wasn’t totally unarmed. He had a knife, and used it. Spargo let out a roar of pain when Carlos slashed the blade across him—was it his face? The darkness was total.
A fist slammed into his gut, and he winced. He barely dodged the next blow, but he swung an uppercut and felt the deeply satisfying crunch as his knuckles connected with Spargo’s jaw.
The other man was momentarily stunned, and that gave Carlos just enough time to do what he needed to do, which resulted in Spargo howling in pain as Carlos cut off the last two fingers of Spargo’s hand, seizing the ring that had come to signify all that he was fighting for.
“Carlos!” Poppy called out then, sounding terrified but also angry. “¿Necesitas que te alumbre?”
“Sí!” he called back, moving away from Spargo to avoid getting hit again.
She relit the lantern. Blinking in the sudden light, he saw that he’d got turned around in the darkness, or Poppy had moved during the fight. Yes, Poppy was now standing by the beach tunnel. She held a lantern, and what looked like a wadded-up handkerchief. A barrel had been knocked over in the scuffle—though he didn’t remember doing it—and some powdery substance was spilling out.
Spargo was on his knees, clutching one hand in the other, bright red dripping from his fingers. He glared at them both.
“Carlos, get over here now,” Poppy ordered, sounding like a general. “Mr. Spargo, you can follow us if you like. But I should mention that the guns are both over there.” She pointed to the other side of the large cavern, where the gleam of metal proved her words true.
“You’re both going to regret this,” he snapped. “The moment you set foot outside, my men will end you. Except you, girl. They’ll keep you around for a bit.”
“I see,” said Poppy. She took another deep breath as Carlos joined her. “Well, then I don’t feel so bad about this.”
Before he knew what she was doing, Poppy lit the corner of the handkerchief on fire.
Spargo had jumped up and rushed to where the guns were lying, but he looked back over his shoulder when Poppy yelped in surprise as the cloth burned.
“This is gunpowder,” Poppy announced. “Carlos, run.” She tossed the flaming bundle on the ground at Spargo’s feet, then bolted outside, Carlos right next to her. Spargo was yelling curses, about to rush into their tunnel…just as the fire touched the packed gunpowder.
The explosion pushed Carlos and Poppy down the tunnel like pebbles rattling down a pipe. Carlos grabbed her and covered her with his own body as they tumbled outside onto the beach. Above them a gout of flame roared out of the cave mouth, to the shock of the crowd of smugglers who half-surrounded them.
Then another explosion sounded—but not from the caves. Blinking in confusion, his ears ringing, Carlos looked up and across the water.
At first, he wasn’t sure what she was seeing. The Agustina was in the bay, of course. Carlos had planned it that way. But the cannon fire hadn’t come from her deck.
Another ship was sweeping into the bay as if a hurricane were propelling it. It was clear that the crew of the Seadragon hadn’t noticed it until it was too late to flee.
