There is another legend hiding in the dungeons in the Castillo de la Yedra, a spine-chilling being. Faced with the advance of the Castilian troops, the Moorish king feared for his life and fled, leaving his daughter in a secret room, free of danger and well supplied. But the Emir and his troops perished, so he could not free her again and she was locked up for eternity. In time, she was transformed into a nymph, half woman, half snake, whose voice, every San Juan's night, emerges from the depths singing an eerie song for the children.

Children find the fable rather harrowing at bedtime, especially on the night of the summer solstice. It is said that, during the conquest, the Moorish king barricaded himself in the Castillo de la Yedra. But when he learned of the tremendous defeat suffered by his the army and the bloodshed in the neighbouring town of Quesada, he decided to abandon Cazorla and the castle together with his people.

He imagined that he would return soon and to prevent his beloved daughter from being harmed in any assault along the way, he left her behind, hidden in a secret lair in the castle, close to the Cerezuelo River, and he was the only one who knew about it. There was plenty of food and oil lamps. But while he was away, the Emir and his escort were killed by the enemy, who stormed the Castillo de La Yedra and took the city.

The king's daughter remained in her hideout for years, waiting for her father to return. An eternal wait that ended in madness when the cell became unbearably damp and her provisions ran out. Every day was like a decade and every week a century, until she stopped feeling her legs, which turned into a serpent's tail, and she became as beautiful as a reptile. She takes her revenge every San Juan's night, when the echo of her voice resounds in the cloistered bed of the Cerezuelo River, whose waters flow under the ruins of the Church of Santa María and the Plaza Vieja, and from deep down in the dungeons she sings to the children:

I am La Tragantía

daughter of the Moorish king,

whoever hears me sing

will not see the light of day

or the night of San Juan