The Island With No Parallel

Strangers

Manuel walked the streets of Malaga with no destination in mind. All he knew was a beer sounded good. Lucia had instructed him to stay in her masia stuck in his room, but he was tired of just following along with what everyone told him. Fernando, Yunara, now Lucia. He wasn't anyone's servant to just blindly follow what he was told. Besides, all that really mattered was that he stayed away from the party.

A bar with people laughing loudly inside caught his attention. This could be a good spot to get what he wanted. He walked inside and paid for the cup he was waiting for. As he raised the mug to his lips, he noticed an older man walk inside. He thought nothing of it and took in the bitter taste of his drink, feeling the warmness rising in his chest and his throat as he did. The older man sat himself next to Manuel, asking for a drink like he did.

"Do you happen to know where to find the masia of a Lady Lucia Fuentes?" the man asked.

"Lady Fuentes? You know her?" asked the bartender.

"Of course. We're old friends."

"And you don't know where she lives?" the bartender asked suspiciously.

"Yes, but I seem to have gotten lost. I don't know Malaga that well, you see."

The bartender nodded, still looking unconvinced, but said, "You want to go that way," he said pointing. "If you keep going down the road to the outskirts of the city, you won't be able to miss it."

"Thank you, sir." the mysterious old man thanked the bartender, tipping his hat and paying for his drink.

"What did you say your name was?"

"I didn't. My name is Carlos Ruiz."

Manuel almost spit out his drink The old man that had introduced himself as Carlos Ruiz said goodbye to the bartender and thanked him for his help before finishing his cup and walking out the door.

What the heck was that? How could that have been Carlos Ruiz? Wasn't Lucia investigating his death? Why would that man lie and pretend to be him? Manuel paid for his drink and hurried out the bar. He had to warn Lucia.

He got to where he left his horse and flicked the reigns. He had to arrive before "Carlos" did.

He charged down the roads of Malaga on his horse and arrived at the masia. After putting away his horse, he stopped before coming through the door. Lucia was right that he shouldn't be seen at the party. There would be too many faces that would recognize him.

An idea came to him, though he hated it. But desperate times called for desperate measures. He couldn't enter through the foyer. There was too much risk of being seen. He went around the house to the window of the kitchen.

Inside, things had calmed down from the bustle that was probably going on during dinner. There was only one servant left, and he was mopping the floor. Manuel waited for him to leave, then climbed through the window. He made his way down a few halls and up some stairs that lead to the bedrooms.

He went to his room and found some simpler clothes than the ones he had on. Then he went back into the kitchen and found a silver tray, the ones that the servants always carried. To finish, he grabbed a rag to pretend to clean with, and started for the ballroom. As long as he kept his head down, perhaps no one would notice him. But he didn't worry much. His color made him mistaken for a servant all the time. It made him mad, but this time he would be pretending to be a servant on purpose.

He entered the ballroom, hoping that he had arrived here before whoever that old man was. He scanned the room and looked for Lucia. Then he spotted her, talking with a tall gentleman and a few other people. He neared them, keeping his head down. As he did, he noticed Lucia seemed perturbed, like something was bothering her.