Zorro and the Little Devil

by Peter David

  He turned and faced Hades, brought up the sword defiantly, and said, “En garde.”

  Hades smiled and swung his sword. Because it was purple flame, I fully expected that it was going to cleave my sword right at the hilt and send the blade flying into the Styx. I could not have been more wrong; my sword held. It appeared that although the flame was an impressive show, indeed that was all it was. It held no more formidable characteristics than an ordinary blade would have possessed.

  I did not know if Diego had known that or not. His face was utterly impassive, as capable of displaying emotion as a rock would have been. Having intercepted Hades’ first thrust, he deflected several subsequent ones. It was as if he was studying Hades, getting a feel for the dark god’s technique, his mind a mathematical marvel of discerning moves that Hades both made and did not make.

  For about thirty seconds he parried all of Hades’ thrusts, and then suddenly he moved to the attack. Hades, to my complete astonishment, seemed confused. Diego had apparently taken him totally off guard. Hades blocked the thrust, tried to counter it, but Diego wasn’t there. Hades’ sword jabbed at where Diego had been, but the lad had already stepped aside, the thrust lancing just past his chest. With Hades off balance and out of position, Diego swept his sword around and cut through the cloth covering Hades’ chest.

  Hades stepped back, staring in shock at the slice. It had done more than just sever the cloth; a thin line of some sort of odd, black liquid was seeping through. Diego had wounded Hades in the torso.

  Roaring with fury, Hades renwed his attack. Diego never flinched. He blocked Hades’ attack as if the god were a young mortal novice, and this time when Diego struck, it was a direct jab through Hades’ shoulder.

  Cerberus, seeing all this, did not come running to its master’s aid. Instead it backed up and whimpered slightly, as if witnessing all this was simply too much for the creature to withstand.

  I was faced with a hard truth that Hades was likewise having to come to terms with: he was no match for a ten-year-old boy, or at least this ten-year-old boy. He never even came close to marking Diego. It might have been that Diego’s size was a factor; an adult would have provided Hades with far more of a target area. Whatever the difference was, it was factoring in heavily and Hades was proving helpless to counter it.

  Another thrust, another parry, and then Diego’s sword moved so quickly that I could scarcely even see it. Just like that, Hades’ sword was knocked from his hand and Diego snatched it from the air. Throwing my own blade back to me, he advanced on Hades, pointing the sword at the base of Hades’ throat.

  “Release Bernardo, or I swear to God, I will kill you,” said Diego.

  Was it possible? Could a mere mortal actually slay a god? I would have thought they were not subject to such human frailties as being capable of dying. But then I remembered that the Egyptian god Ra had died. And Indians told tales of deceased gods. Heavens, the Norse Vikings had an entire epic death of the gods tale involving the end of the world through Ragnarok. Greco Roman gods didn’t have any instances of being killed, but considering that all other mythic gods could be slain, it was entirely possible that Hades could be as well. Especially considering that it was Hades’ own sword.

  For a long moment, Hades stared at the boy, and then he snapped his fingers. The massive doors nearby us swung open. Standing right there in the opening was a lad with remarkably dark skin and a look of benign confidence. It was as if he had been totally positive that Diego would come to rescue him and it was simply a matter of time.

  “Bernardo!” Diego cried out. He dropped the sword of Hades as if it was a weapon of no consequence at all and ran toward his friend. Bernardo sprinted toward him as well and the two boys embraced as if they were a pair of soldiers who had been separated in a massive battle and were now just discovering each other was alive.

  I strode over to the lads and placed an approving hand on Diego’s shoulder. “You are a most formidable swordsman, Diego.

  “Thank you, Senor Baron. I confess I have studied the blade for a time.”

  “You should study it more aggressively. There is an excellent university in Spain you can attend which will certainly enable you to broaden your excellence.”

  “I will go there when I’m old enough.”

  Hades did not seem the least bit disposed toward just standing there and listening to us discuss Diego’s future. “Get out of here,” he growled. “All of you.”

  “Where should we go?” I asked.

  Hades pointed toward a doorway that I could swear had not been there moments earlier. There was an outline of an arrow emblazoned on it, pointing straight upward. “There. Go through there. And never return here again. You should never have come here in the first place. You’re Christians and so have no place here.”

  “Where do we go when we die?” said Diego.

  Hades smiled grimly. “You’ll find out.”

  Diego seemed inclined to continue discussing matters with Hades, but I had no desire to prolong our stay there overlong. I bowed slightly, placed one hand on either boy’s back, and hastened them toward the exit. We stepped through the door, and to my shock, bright sunlight flooded over us.

  I turned around and saw that the door had vanished behind us. There was instead a sheer rock wall with no hint of any manner of egress on it.

  “We are back!” said a surprised Diego. “He kept his word!”

  “A god of honor,” I said in genuine astonishment. “I would not have thought of Hades in that manner.”

  I then let out a sharp whistle and was rewarded moments later by my trusty horse charging up to me. I stroked its muzzle affectionately and then clambered up onto the horse.

  “You should come with us to our hacienda,” Diego said. “We can tell my father all about this adventure!”

  “Ah, but then he would know how you disobeyed him and entered the caves in the first place. You were, as I recall, reluctant for him to find that out.

  To my surprise, Diego simply shrugged in much the same manner that Charon had. “I defeated Hades in a sword battle. I’m not really afraid of my father at this point.”

  I chuckled at that. “That is truly the proper attitude to have. But I caution you, young Diego: You may want to keep this story to yourself. Otherwise people will think you are an inveterate liar.”

  “Really?” He seemed slightly disappointed. “I wouldn’t want that.”

  “Very wise.”

  I snapped the reins. The horse pivoted and started off.

  Little did I suspect that merely three days later, I would be involved in saving Thomas Jefferson from a massive, mythical big footed creature in the untamed forest.

  But that is another tale.

  About the Author

  Peter David is a prolific author whose career, and continued popularity, spans nearly two decades. He has worked in every conceivable media: TV, film, books (fiction, non-fiction and audio), short stories, and comic books, and acquired followings in all of them.

  In the literary field, Peter has had over fifty novels published, including numerous appearances on the New York Times Bestsellers List. His novels include Sir Apropos of Nothing (A “fast, fun, heroic fantasy satire” — Publishers Weekly) and the sequel The Woad to Wuin, Knight Life, Howling Mad, and the Psi-Man adventure series. He is the co-creator and author of the bestselling Star Trek: New Frontier series for Pocket Books.

  Peter’s comic book resume includes an award-winning twelve-year run on The Incredible Hulk. He has worked on such varied and popular titles as Supergirl, Young Justice, Soulsearchers and Company, Aquaman, Spider-Man, Spider-Man 2099, X-Factor, Star Trek, Wolverine, The Phantom, Sachs & Violens, and many others.

  Peter is the co-creator, with popular science fiction icon Bill Mumy (of Lost in Space and Babylon 5 fame) of the Cable Ace Award-nominated science fiction series Space Cases, which ran for two seasons on Nickelodeon. He has written several scripts for Babylon 5, Crusade, and written several films for Full M
oon Entertainment.

  He lives in New York with his wife, Kathleen, and his children, Shana, Gwen, Ariel, and Caroline.

  About the creator of Zorro

  The creator of Zorro, Johnston McCulley (1883-1958) was born in Ottowa, Illinois, and raised in the neighboring town of Chillicothe. His writing career began as a police reporter. He became a prolific fiction author, filling thousands of pulp magazine pages.

  Southern California became a frequent backdrop for his f iction. His most notable use of the locale was in the adventures of Zorro, the masked highwayman who defended a pueblo’s citizens from an oppressive government.

  He contributed to popular magazines of the day like Argosy, Western Story Magazine, Detective Story Magazine, Blue Book and Rodeo Romances. Many of his novels were published in hardcover and paperback. Eventually he branched out to writing screenplays.

  McCulley’s stable of series characters included The Crimson Clown, Thubway Tham, The Green Ghost, and The Thunderbolt. Zorro became his most popular and enduring character, featured in motion pictures, comic books, television and cartoon programs.

  After assigning all Zorro rights to agent Mitchell Gertz, Johnston McCulley retired to Los Angeles and died in 1958.

  Zorro: The Complete Pulp Adventures (available from Bold Venture Press in softcover and hardcover) is the only authorized and complete collection of the original Zorro stories.

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