The Last Song

good-bye.”
    Mama pointed to the animals. “What is the meaning of this? Where are you going?”
    Luis’s face turned crimson. “I received word from my father that he needs me at my home.” He mounted one of the horses and with a curt nod galloped off.His servant set off after him, pulling the mule behind him.
    “Good riddance!” Mama said.
    I agreed wholeheartedly.

C HAPTER 13
 
T UESDAY , J ULY 3, 1492 –
W EDNESDAY , J ULY 4, 1492
    M ama and I were panting as we followed Yussuf up the steep hill leading to the alcazar. The palace served both as the headquarters of the Inquisition and as Fray Torquemada’s residence when he visited Toledo. Candlelight flickered through the windows on the second floor and we could hear the lilting music of harps and tinkling laughter.
    “The Grand Inquisitor must be entertaining tonight,” I whispered to Yussuf.
    “Lucky for us. The noise made by the friar’s guests will cover any noise we might make. It will distract the guards.”
    We followed the Moor along a lane running next to the stone wall of the palace. It was as dark as pitch. Black clouds obscured the moon’s cold light. Theground was uneven, and Mama stumbled. I caught her arm.
    “Hold on! We’re almost there,” Yussuf whispered.
    We finally arrived at a wooden gate half-hidden by tall cypress bushes. The Moor knocked on the door three times. It swung open. A disembodied face appeared and floated toward me in the darkness. I clamped my hand over my mouth to stifle a scream.
    “Come in,” the head said. It floated even closer.
    Only then did I see the rest of him – the body of a familiar dressed in black clothes. I saw the exchange of coins Yussuf had asked for before we left.
    “Follow me,” the man said.
    I held on tight to Mama’s arm as the familiar led us across the courtyard to a door leading into the alcazar. We followed right behind him as he descended a slippery, worn stone staircase dimly lit by torches on the wall. He stopped in front of a rusty, studded iron door and unlocked it with one of the keys hanging on his belt.
    “Five minutes,” he said. “That’s all you have.”
    He pushed us through the doorway and then he was gone. The three of us found ourselves in a dark, dank cave full of shadows. A barred window high up on the wall afforded the tiniest bit of light to go by. I almost gagged at the overwhelming stench of bloodand excrement. I lifted the hem of my skirt to keep it out of the disgusting, thick sludge that covered the floor. Lying on filthy straw, spectral creatures were chained to the wall. One wild-eyed man dressed in rags, his face streaked with blood, moaned piteously. A pregnant woman, her hands clasped over her swollen belly, lay beside him. I looked away from her nakedness. Many of the prisoners had no clothes. Some were unmoving, silent as ghosts. Others were crying in desperation. A woman held out her arms toward me but did not utter a single word. The clanging of the prisoners’ chains echoed off the stone walls.
    “Dear God,” Mama said, “where is your father?”
    Suddenly, a cry. “Catarina! Isabel! Is it you?”
    The voice came from a man chained to the wall beneath the window. I examined his grimy features, snowy hair, and scraggly beard. Rags covered his gaunt body. I was sure that I had never seen him before. Mama ran up to him and embraced him.
    “Stop, Mama! Have you lost your mind?” I tried to pull her away from him.
    “Daughter, don’t you know your own father?” he asked.
    The voice was Papa’s voice. Could it be? I stepped closer. A feeble ray of moonlight lit the man’s face. Papa’s thick black hair had turned completely white. Hehad become an old man in just a few weeks, but he was my father. I fell to my knees and kissed his hand. Yussuf kneeled and kissed his feet.
    “What have they done to you, my Enrique?” Mama asked.
    “Master! May Allah be blessed. We found you alive!” Yussuf said.
    “Have you lost your minds to come here?” Papa’s voice still held his old authority. “Don’t you know what could happen to you?”
    “I don’t care,” Mama said, smoothing his face.
    “We want to talk to you,” I whispered. “I can’t convince Mama that I must speak to the Grand Inquisitor to free you.”
    “I will not have her put herself in such terrible danger.” Mama said.
    I crouched as close to Papa as I could because I didn’t want the other prisoners to overhear us. “There is nothing else we can do.” I