By Carolynn Bjorkman
PROLOGUE
Spanish California, 1820
“After him! Do not let him get away!” Capitan Enrique Sanchez Monastario led his garrison of soldiers in hot pursuit of the outlaw-and their worst constant headache-Zorro. Once again, as so many times before, Zorro had played one of his maddening pranks on him and Monastario felt a notch closer to losing his commission as comandante of Los Angeles. Each time Zorro struck made Monastario look like the fool and incompetent idiot he accused his subordinates of being. And he felt vulnerable. Knowing he had acted underhandedly and illegally for his own personal gain, he realized Zorro saw through him like glass. Glass broke very easily. Monastario grew more furious with each exposure by Zorro because he knew he was guilty. His arrogance spurred him on, however.
Up ahead, Zorro led Monastario and his battalion on a merry chase. Tornado was unbeaten in speed, except by the wind. But this chase was taking longer than usual. The black horse would tire soon. Zorro knew he had to divert the soldiers, and quickly. He watched for the rocks, which led to Tornado’s cave, but they never seemed to appear. Suddenly nothing seemed familiar. But hills loomed ahead and he steered the horse in their directions. There had to be some caves somewhere, he thought. Zorro urged his horse on, picking up speed. A light fog settled on the hilltops, which should be helpful in his escape. Winding his way through the narrow pathways, Zorro watched carefully for openings to hide in. He was far enough ahead of the soldiers he could dismount and have Tornado guide them away.
Finding an inlet, Zorro jumped off his horse and immediately began hacking away at shrubbery. He’d used this diversion tactic before when Monastario had shot his father and was out looking for him. Zorro yanked off his cape and flung it over the leafy shrubbery now perched on his saddle. “Tornado, lead them away from here! Quickly” he commanded his steed. With a final pat on the rear end, Zorro sent his faithful companion off and scrambled back into the dark protection of the cave he’d found. This had been a little too close for comfort and Zorro found he was more fatigued than he imagined. Looking around, he found the makings for a torch. The further away from the entrance, the better. He busily began putting together the handle and dried materials. Then, finding the rocks needed, he struck them several times before enough sparks had finally ignited the tip. Satisfied, Zorro began to explore his surroundings.
