"Coronel Montoya? Are you in here?" she called, pushing the door open slightly.

"Get...out." She did not recognise the voice at first. It was not until she stepped inside that she saw that it was Colonel Montoya.

"Coronel!" She gasped, as he lifted his head from his desk. His ponytail had come loose and his face was gilded with sweat. Dios, he had the same illness as the rest of them! He aimed a gun at her. She backed out hastily, slamming the door at the sound of a shot. For a moment, she thought that he had shot himself. Then, she heard more shots, and cursing from inside the room after they had ceased. She hurried back down the hallway and out into the courtyard. She saw some soldiers near the barracks, but they seemed uninterested in her. Ducking her head, she went back to Helm's office.

She was alarmed to see a rider approach as she crossed the marketplace. It was Captain Grisham. Oh, this was all she needed. He looked as surprised to see her as she to see him.

"Capitan Grisham," she exclaimed, to cover up her confusion. "What are you doing here?" He looked dishevelled and disgusted.

"I've been looking for Dr. Helm all morning," he admitted, dismounting with a groan. "You haven't seen him, have you?"

"Why, yes. He's in his office." Grisham looked angry and started towards the office door. Tessa stepped in his way. "Capitan, the doctor is very ill, and so is Coronel Montoya. I certainly hope that you don't intend to do anything foolish."

"Montoya's sick? How sick?" Grisham did manage a little concern, but mostly, he looked eager. Tessa decided to be honest.

"I am not sure. I found him in his office. He shot at me and I ran back here." Tessa simpered. Grisham, of course, bought it, or seemed to.

"Huh. And Helmie's sick, too. Too bad." Yes, he was definitely cheering up. "Look, I hate to talk and run, Señorita, but I have to get back out to the mine."

"I thought you were out there looking for Dr. Helm." This was getting stranger and stranger.

"I was," Grisham said matter-of-factly. "Now that I've found him, I'm going to go back to find everybody else."

"What do you mean...everybody else?" Had the whole world gone crazy? How could so many people get sick in so many different places?

"The mine workers have all disappeared--probably because somebody went and strangled the foreman. Not that I'll miss good old Garcia that much." Grisham remounted his horse. "Now, if you'll excuse me, Señorita, I have to round up some of my men so that I can go back out there and do a search. Don't worry. I'm sure that Dr. Helm will be fine. He always is, in the end." With that, he rode off across the square.

Tessa went back into the office. Helm still lay with his face against the wall. He was breathing, but he looked terrible. When she tried to speak to him, he would not, or could not, answer. Tessa found Vera in his office, trying to clean it up. She looked up as Tessa came in.

"Oh, Tessa," she wailed. "I think that poor Dr. Helm is getting worse!"

Tessa took her friend by the arm. "Vera, I need you to do something for me. It's very important."

"What?" Vera's eyes were wide. For a moment, Tessa faltered. What if Vera wasn't up to the task? No. She had to be. This was all starting to get out of hand. "What is wrong?"

"I have to go back to the hacienda and find out something, find a connection to what is going on. Can you look after Dr. Helm until then? It will only be for an hour or two, I promise."

Vera paled. "Oh, Tessa, I do not know...."

"I promise I'll come right back. It will only be for an hour or two."

"Well...all right. I suppose."

"Thank you." Tessa hugged Vera and hurried out the door before her friend could change her mind. She had to get to the mine ahead of Grisham and find out what was going on, and she could only do that as the Queen.

Tessa was startled to find the hacienda completely deserted. She could find neither Marta, nor anyone else, anywhere in the house or the nearby buildings. Apprehensive, she pulled on her disguise, tied on her mask and rode out to the mine. When she got there, it was utterly deserted, as well. Whatever was going on? She dismounted, shooing Chico off to a hiding place, and crept up the hill towards the mine entrance. She heard a horse whinny. As she approached, she saw that it was the gelding that Grisham had ridden out of town, but where was Grisham?

The click of a pistol answered her question. She ducked behind a rock, just as the gun went off. The ricochet echoed off the cliffside.

"Give it up, Queenie!" Grisham shouted from up the hill. "This mine is off limits to looters!"

"I'm not here to steal anything! I'm just trying to find out what is going on!" Well, he didn't sound crazy. Should she take the risk? Cautiously, she lifted her head and peered over the rock. "Mas ven cuatro ojos que dos--two heads are better than one, Grisham." When no bullet answered, she stepped out from behind the boulder, ready to jump back.

"What are you suggesting?" Grisham said, standing up slowly from his crouch behind his own rock.

"That we work together until we find out what is going on, and stop it." She grinned. "And then we each ride away in the opposite direction at the end of the day without shooting each other. What do you say?"

He stared off down the arroyo, considering her offer, no doubt. "All right," he said. "Come on up. I won't shoot you." He smiled. "Yet."

"You're a prince, Marcus," Tessa muttered to herself, and started climbing up the hill.

Vera peered out into the square. It was very quiet. Just a few minutes ago, though, she had heard gunshots, and people screaming. She did not feel safe here at all. Perhaps she should go over to the barracks. At least there were other people there. But how was she to get Dr. Helm over there? He was so sick.

She went into the doctor's back room, where he still lay, facing the wall. The only way that she could tell he was still breathing was when he groaned, every few minutes. She shook him and he whimpered, turning over onto his face.

"Doctor," she said. "Doctor, get up!" He did not respond. "Please, Doctor, we must go now." Slowly, he rolled over on his back and opened his eyes. He looked terrible, his face flushed and his hair all tangled. Poor man. Perhaps they would have some medicine for him there.

"Come with me," she said briskly. She knelt down on the floor, cursing the dirt that was getting on her third-best dress, got his arm around her shoulders and helped him sit up. After some coaxing, she got him to his feet and headed out the door.

"When I was in town, Vera Hidalgo told me that Dr. Helm said he spoke with a man when he was here," Tessa said, peering into the mine entrance. With the sun at her back, it was hard to make anything out in the gloom, beyond the first few feet. "The man gave him a drink and it poisoned him."

"Well, we have had a few poisonings here in the past week," Grisham admitted. "And I did see somebody sneaking around when I first got here. He didn't stick around for a chat, though. Did the Doc say if this guy had a name? 'Cause the ladies taking care of him didn't tell me anything." Tessa smiled at that.

"Jésus. Jésus Herrerez." She glanced at Grisham. "Sound familiar?"

Grisham looked puzzled. "Well...yeah, but I doubt it's him."

Tessa gave him a sharp look. "What do you mean?"

"Jésus Herrerez has been dead for almost six years. He was the foreman here, before Inigo Garcia. I wasn't here at the time, so I don't know all the details, but I heard tell that Garcia might have bumped him off in a fight over some loot they both found." Hadn't Grisham said, back in town, that Garcia was dead?

Tessa sighed. "I suppose it can't be him, then. Maybe it's somebody pretending to be him, to scare all the workers away so that he can get into the mine. This man you saw, did you see where he went?"

"Back into the mine. Think he's looking for something in there." Grisham gestured toward the entrance. "Ladies first," he said amiably.

"Why doesn't that surprise me?" Edging sideways, so that she could keep an eye on Grisham, Tessa approached the mine entrance. As soon as she entered the darkness, she shivered. There was something evil lurking in here. And the sound of Grisham's breathing, right behind her, reminded her of the time they had been trapped together in a cave-in. She did not want to have that happen again.

"Where is the little bastard?" Grisham said. She smiled at the tension in his voice. So, he wasn't the only one. Good. If he was worrying about his own skin, he wouldn't be paying as much attention to taking her own as a trophy. She stepped further into the mine. As she did, her boot struck against something soft. She looked down.

"I think I found one of our mine workers," she said.

"Yeah, I know," Grisham replied. "That's Garcia. Don't mind him. He's dead."

"Coronel Montoya?" Vera pushed open the door cautiously. "Coronel? Are you in here?" As the door opened further, she saw the Colonel at his desk, slumped across it. "Oh dear," she said, fluttering her hands over her bosom, at a loss. She turned back to Helm, who was sitting with his back to the wall in the corridor, holding his head in his hands. "Dr. Helm, please help."

He lifted his head and stared up at her blearily. "What? What is it?"

"Coronel Montoya is very ill. I know you are sick, too, but please, can you help him?"

Helm shivered, then nodded. Vera helped him stand, but he was able to go into the room on his own power. Gracias a Dios, he seemed to be getting better, now, not worse. Tessa would be so relieved. When Helm saw Montoya, he went over to him and shook him. Montoya groaned.

Vera stood in the doorway, her hand to her mouth, wondering what to do. "What is wrong with him?"

"I'm not sure. I think he's been poisoned, too." Helm painfully dragged a chair over to the desk and slumped down onto it, next to Montoya. He carefully pulled a pistol out of the Colonel's limp hand. Before he could proceed any further, however, an explosion made both him and Vera jump. Montoya moaned and rubbed his head.

"Oh, God!" Vera cried. "What was that?"

"Sounds like someone wants to have their festive fun early this year," Helm said grimly.

"Wait here. I'll go see," Vera exclaimed. "Take care of him, please."

She rushed out into the corridor, just as one of Montoya's guards ran up the stairs. "Señora!" he cried. "Where is Coronel Montoya?"

"Corporal Mancera, isn't it? The Coronel is indisposed. I am in charge. Give me that." She grabbed the rifle from him.

Mancera gaped at her. "But--Señora!"

"Oh, be quiet and come with me." Three more men hurried down the corridor towards them, from the other direction. "You three--come, too." They looked shocked, but followed her down the stairs and outside, anyway.

Out in the square, a crowd of about twenty men and women had set fire to a cart full of market goods, and were pushing it towards the cantina. Señor Paredes, the cantina owner, was nowhere to be seen. Vera was not surprised; she felt like disappearing, herself. There was a festive air to the scene. Men were shouting encouragement to each other as they pushed the cart, or took brands from it, and the women shrieked encouragement, delighted by the flames. If Vera didn't stop them, right now, they would burn down the entire town.

"Are you sure that Jésus, or whatever he calls himself, came in here?" Tessa squeaked, unnerved by the darkness. She had her sword out, and her eyes were adjusting, now, but it was still difficult to see.

"Yep. I'm sure." Grisham sounded calm, but he was sticking very close to her, pistol in hand. "I'm just not sure why."

"Because I want it back!" The man leaped at them from the darkness. Grisham raised his pistol, but before he could take aim, the man grabbed his wrist and threw him into the wall. Grisham grunted in pain and slumped to the ground. Tessa swung at the man, but he dodged the blow and came her headlong, knocking her down. For a moment, she was stunned. Before she knew what was happening, he was kneeling on her chest. Grinning, he put his hands around her throat and began to strangle her.

Voices babbled in Montoya's head--pleading, raging, arguing. He begged them to stop. Gradually, one of them became clearer and he could respond to it.

"Luis? Luis, can you hear me?" It was Helm. Montoya opened his eyes. Helm's face hung before him, huge and distorted.

"Help me," Luis whispered. "Make them stop. Make them stop talking."

Helm smiled at him in sympathy, in the middle of Hell. "Of course," he replied. "But there's something you must do first."

"Will it help?" The agony almost made him whimper--almost.

Helm nodded. "Oh, yes. Do it and I promise you, all the bad spirits will go away." But, despite the promise of relief, Montoya was afraid of him.

Tessa gagged, her nose filled with the stench of mummified skin. Jésus (she assumed it was him) was throttling the life out of her. She squirmed, trying to reach her dagger in her boot. Jésus only pressed harder. Kicking out, she managed to unbalance him, and in the respite, snagged her dagger. She slashed at his wrists. Shrieking, he let go.

She rolled over, coughing. Jésus crouched nearby, clutching his wrist. "It's mine! You can't have it anymore! Mine!" A shot boomed in the tunnel. Jésus squealed and fell. He staggered back to his feet, stumbled back out of the tunnel, into the sunlight, stepped off the edge of the hill and tumbled out of sight.

Tessa glanced over at Grisham, who lay against the opposite wall, still pointing the pistol after Jésus. "Christ," he panted. "Why can't some people just stay dead?"

Painfully, Tessa got to her feet and stumbled after Jésus, into the sunlight. She didn't worry about Grisham shooting her in the back. He looked as though he had other things to worry about. She went to the edge of the hill and peered over. Noone, and nobody, was there. The only thing she could see besides rocks and sand was a gleam of light, near where Jésus should have been lying.

Continue to Part Four

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