Chapter One

He sat in the corner of the cell in the basement of the ship, his black-haired head bent against the wall, his eyes listless. He could not remember the last time he had felt actual sunlight against his skin. It was so bloody cold down there in the cell. He could feel his bare skin shiver in the darkness. He was wearing nothing but a wrap around his hips, gold earrings, and gold bracelets. He didn't know how long he had been there. It could have been days, or weeks, or even years maybe.

A fairly thin man to begin with, he was now thinner than ever. It was not that didn't have food; there was some on the small table on the far left of the cell, where some had been ungraciously thrown. He was just refusing to eat. He figured if he was going to die anyway, he might as well shorten the sentence.

He had been told by the man who had captured him, that he was being taken back to Spain, to be enslaved. He didn't like the sound of that at all, so he was now just killing himself slowly. Every minute that he spent feeling hungry, he regretted ever leaving El Dorado. He regretted ever making his people despise him. He wished that he had somehow managed to bring some of his spell books with him, so that he could somehow just teleport back to the island, but he knew that was out of the question now. He sighed in annoyance, hating himself.

"I am such a fool," he rasped in the darkness, "An ignorant fool!" He pounded his fist against the wall, causing the table to collapse in on itself. Cursing, he got up and strode over to it, and fixed it hurriedly, for he heard footsteps over head, and was worried that it was Cortés again. He didn't feel like getting beaten again, so once he had finished, he sat back down, and curled up again.

The footsteps and grown louder, and more hurried, which made him think that it wasn't Cortés up there. It was most certainly someone else, much lighter in fact. He raised his head slightly, curious. The footsteps had grown immensely loud now, and very fast. Then, there was a shout from on deck, and a female cry, and then silence. He heard a gun fire, and for a moment, supposed that whoever had been on deck was now dead. Bored again, he returned to glaring at the wall. It wasn't until he heard voices, that he paid attention.

"You were a fool to hide away here sister," said the voice of Cortés.

"I am the fool? I beg to differ! I wasn't the one who killed mother, and jailed Juan! That was you! Or have you purposely forgotten?" There was the sound of someone being hit, and then quiet sobs could be heard from the deck.

Cortés's laughter could be heard now. "You are weak, just like mother. You know she begged for death."

"Bastard!" screamed the voice of the young woman, "You will pay for what you have done to our family! You will!" Cortés laughed again, and then he said something to one of his soldiers.

"Take our little guest to the cell below deck. She can join the native liar down there, and they can rot together." There was the sound of cruel laughter again, and then the cell door opened, and someone came falling in. They lay there for a moment, before sitting up and waving a fist at the sky.

"You will pay for this Cortés! When Papa returns, you will die!" She then began to cry softly into her hands. It wasn't until she looked up that she noticed him sitting in the corner, quietly observing her.

"So you are the native liar he spoke of, yes?" She had a think, Spanish accent, long dark brown, almost black hair, tanned skin, black eyes, and was wearing a dull brown dress.

She sighed, "Go ahead and laugh. It must be amusing to see a woman being beaten by her so-called brother," she laughed mirthlessly, "But you probably don't even understand me, huh?"

"On the contrary, I don't find it amusing in any way," he answered perfectly, "It is kind of sad really."

She stared at him in disbelief. "You speak out language well. What is your name, if I may ask?"

He struggled to stand up, and when he succeeded, he bowed low before her. "I am Tzekel-Kan of El Dorado."

She then burst out laughing. "El Dorado Such a place does not exist!" She then turned away from him, her eyes cold and hard.

He smiled slightly, revealing his slightly pointed teeth. "Oh, but it does my dear. I am from the city of Gold. Do I need to prove it to you?"

She turned back, her face stony. "Fine, enlighten me."

He smiled and came and knelt before her. "My earring, and my bracelets, they are solid gold." He removed them and held them out to her.

She stared at him like he was a mental case. "You expect me to believe you are from El Dorado by simply showing me these? You probably stole them!"

"I did no such thing! Look at me! I am half dead already! When do you think I'd have had the time to steal these? I've been here for ages!"

Her scowl lessened slightly. "Whatever. I don't believe anything you say anyway."

"And why not may I ask? I am native to you? Or is it something else?"

"I have nothing against natives, or anyone else for that matter. However, you are a prisoner of my brother, and therefore you must be a troublemaker. What did you do?"

Tzekel-Kan sighed, "I disappointed him."

Her eyes widened, "Oh, you meant to show him El Dorado, and it wasn't what he wanted?"

His eyes met hers. "Why, yes! How did you know?"

She laughed, "Typical Cortés. He is never happy to be let down. That's how our mother died… She failed to give him, eh, something."

"Do I need to ask what?"

"It's none of your business!" she snapped. She then composed herself, and stood up.

"I am Isabel Cortés, sister to the man who has been torturing you." She smiled slightly at the look on his face. "What? You never thought he had a family or something?"

He snapped out of his reverie. "Huh? Oh! No! That isn't it! Uh, yeah, just, um…"

She giggled, "Don't hurt yourself! So you're really from El Dorado then?"

Tzekel-Kan smiled. He may have just met this strikingly beautiful young woman, but he was glad for the company. Perhaps he didn't want to die after all. He gestured absently to the food on the table.

"Are you hungry?"