Chapter 1: The Frantic Chase

No map, no plan, no problem, right? Well, okay, maybe that was wrong . . . maybe a lack of the first two did end up being a problem, but nothing we couldn't handle. The jungle was so beautiful, like more beautiful than you could ever imagine—just imagine it, and I guarantee you won't have pictured the half of it. There were animals I'd never seen, plants too, and to gaze up into the canopies of trees so tall—it took my breath away. Somewhere along the way, we'd lost the armadillo—I think he got bored. You kind of can't blame him, really.

It was when we were resting, Altivo drinking the stream's water along with the three of us, that we heard a group of men approaching. Tulio shot me a panicked look. Miguel stared in the direction of the sound blankly. "Tulio," I hissed. "Get Miguel and hide in the bushes."

"Chel, take Altivo," Miguel whispered. Tulio and I just looked at him. "Please," he begged. "You can't let Cortés take him back. He's not meant to be a war horse. He's a poodle," he muttered to Tulio, wearing a sad smile. "Come on, Chel. Just in case, you know?"

"I can't let you boys get caught," I said softly, feeling a little panicky myself now. Tulio was contagious that way. I didn't want us all to split up. Something caught in the back of my throat.

"Shut up and take Altivo," said Tulio, his face grave. "We'll find each other again." He didn't look like he believed it. "You'll need him to make any progress anyway. Someone needs to stay with him on the ground." He pressed a kiss to my lips and then stepped back, sliding a shaky hand into one of Miguel's. They carefully helped each other climb a tree, hardly breathing.

"Pig-headed," I muttered to myself as I neared the horse. I didn't know what exactly Cortés and company would do to us, but I knew it wasn't going to be an offer of a hot bath and some tequila—which we all could have used by then, no doubt. I moved quickly and quietly, and led Altivo back through some bushes. My heart was racing, pounding blood through my body so loudly I was sure I would spook Altivo—and as far as I was aware, that's never been easy to do.

Cortés led them. He stopped, sniffed. To tell the truth, I almost peed myself. I curled a hand in Altivo's mane to steady myself as I watched. The horror of the moment was only growing, as a few men followed Cortés onto the scene. The metal of their armor glinted like the eyes of the jaguar Tzekel -Kan had brought to life, lifeless but somehow still malicious. Tools used to aid in tracking down and killing. This armor wasn't worthy of the sunlight reflecting off of it. To shine on them was a waste of the sun's time and energy.

Cortés ordered my boys—my boys!—to come down out of the tree. I leaned against Altivo and suppressed a moan. This was horrible. They had been spotted! The indignity of it all nearly overwhelmed me. Who did this hotshot think he was anyway? No matter what, he was definitely pretty terrifying. I leaned my head against Altivo's side, and I watched. There was no way they could have avoided coming down, that would only create license for the men to use those loud weapons—I'd heard they were very dangerous and very effective, using the power of fire.

"The stowaways," Cortés said in his low voice. Even his voice made me sick to my stomach.

Tulio and Miguel said absolutely nothing, but they sort of had this quiet understanding to act lowly and not even stand up all the way straight. They did make a sort of properly weak picture. It seemed to help their case, if only slightly.

"Where is my horse?"

"It bit me," said Tulio quietly, and Miguel nodded, somber. "And then it ran off and we never saw it again."

"You expect me to believe that?"

"I can show you the mark, if you want," offered Tulio, with a shrug.

"It's a war horse, isn't it? I don't think it liked us," Miguel said absently.

Cortés's lip curled in disgust. "Grab them," he called to some of the men around him. Two awful, metal-clad men took each of them in metal-clad arms. "Search for the horse."

I chewed at a fingernail and waited until a man came close enough. I parted the bushes and batted my eyes, trying to look my most flirtatiously innocent. I waved, and then I coaxed him farther away from the rest of the men. I was almost afraid of the rough scars disfiguring his face, but there was something in his eyes that I couldn't fear. He glanced at the horse, but I put a finger to my lips. When we got far enough away, he asked me if I spoke his language. Obviously, I did, and I nodded.

"Do you like what you see?" I almost surprised myself by asking this. Apparently my mind had kicked in just in time. "You want it?" I finished, feeling a little lame . . . .

He stared at me, but nodded a little.

"It's gonna cost you." Female sexuality, I knew, could be used as a weapon and as a means of trade. I held my breath.

He thought for a moment. He could always just turn me over to Cortés to do who-knows-what to, so why should he listen to me? He looked me over. "The price?" he asked after a long pause.

"I want passage to wherever it is you're going. Just hide me on the ship and make sure no one finds me," I said.

He nodded.

I let out a breath I hadn't known I'd been holding. "I'll stay in this area, climb a tree or something, you know. You show Cortés the horse. Come see me tonight," I added.

He took one last look at my body. He reached out and touched my cheek, at which I flinched. He wasn't really paying that much attention. He moved the hand to his own, rough cheek. He then pointed to a tree, turning back toward Cortés's spot suddenly. "I found the horse!"

I climbed up the tree quickly, and clearly felt the sorrow Miguel displayed as he frowned, turning to Tulio and sighing. Something clicked, and Tulio was frightened that I might be hurt, I think, so I waved, trying to get his attention. Miguel saw me, eyes wide. He nudged Tulio to look up at me in the tree. I smiled sadly, then pulled back quietly toward the trunk so I was out of their sight.

"What are you looking at?" demanded Cortés.

"Tree squirrel!" said Miguel happily. I almost laughed out loud. Miguel was so crazy like that.

"We camp out here for the night, and we set sail in the morning!" Cortés declared.

The man with the scars came back, just as I expected him to. I slid down the tree.