Esteban's eyes fluttered open. He looked up. It was twilight. Tao was at the controls of the golden condor. Esteban turned his head slightly to the right. Zia was asleep, resting her head upon his shoulder. She moved her head slightly closer to his neck, and then she was still once more.
"Tao," Esteban whispered.
Tao turned around. "Hmm?" he asked.
"Where are we?"
"Good question. We've been going north-by-northwest for a long time. Plus, the sun's about to go down, so I've been looking for a place to land."
"Can I help?"
"Sure! An extra pair of eyes can't hurt."
Esteban touched Zia gently. "Zia," he said, "wake up."
Zia the Inca girl opened her eyes, stretched, and sat up. She looked around. "Oh," she began, "I must have fallen asleep."
"That's ok, Zia," said Esteban, "We're all tired. Tao, why don't you take a break? You've been at the controls for a long time."
"I know," Tao answered, "but something's really troubling me. There are about half a dozen buttons all over the front panel of this machine, but I can't figure out what any of them do."
The machine Tao was referring to was their magnificent, sun-powered flying machine, the golden condor. Constructed by engineers of the ancient Heva Empire, the condor was their transport of choice throughout most of their early adventures. The trio of friends had flown northwest from the Mayan lands and was now coasting above the lower edges of the North American Rocky Mountains. It was a slow, beautiful journey.
Esteban and Zia stood up. Zia looked out of the front of the condor. "Oh, the sun's going down over the Pacific... how beautiful," she remarked.
"Yes, it is," replied Esteban. He walked over to Tao and sat in the adjacent seat.
Tao said, "We need to land soon. The condor will run out of power if the sun isn't shining on it, and it's setting fast."
Esteban observed the landscape from outside of the window. "Oh... it's mountains as far as the eye can see... is there anywhere that we can land the condor?"
"Look!" exclaimed Zia. She pointed down to an elongated plateau. "Do you think we can land it there?"
Tao replied, "I can't think of anywhere else. Esteban, take the controls. You're a better pilot than I am."
Tao moved over and Esteban took control. Esteban pushed the control lever slightly forward. The condor had an unpredictable nature, essentially having a mind of its own. It had a habit of landing when it felt like landing. It was, after all, built and programmed by the Heva people to locate the cities of gold, six of which remained in hiding throughout the world. It was these cities of gold that Esteban and his friends hoped to find.
Suddenly, the condor angled forward sharply and increased its speed.
"Esteban!" Tao yelled, "What are you doing?"
"It's not me!" a frantic Esteban called back, "The condor's out of control!"
Zia gripped the back of Esteban's seat. Esteban struggled to regain control. Tao hugged his seat tightly. Still, the condor jetted downward toward the sharp peaks of the mountains.
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"Sancho my friend, I've finished counting my share!"
Pedro began dancing about wildly. "You know," he said, "I'll bet that I have enough gold here for eight lifetimes!"
Sancho looked at his friend skeptically. "W-w-w-well," he stuttered, "y-y-you don't have as much as I do! I have more gold than I c-c-c-can ever c-c-c-count!"
The two bickered. A cloaked man sat just beyond them. Next to him lay a modest pile of gold. He looked on at the two arguing sailors, bemused and silent. Suddenly, Pedro approached the cloaked man.
"Mendoza!" Pedro said, "I think that you gave Sancho more than you gave me! I thought that this was supposed to be a fair deal!"
Mendoza shook his head slightly, shaking away some amusement in the process. He growled a low growl.
"How many lifetimes are you planning on leading, Pedro?" Mendoza asked.
Pedro thought for a moment. "Well, what do you mean, Mendoza?"
"I asked you how many lifetimes you planned on living. One? Two? Three?"
"Well, just this one I suppose. I mean, what kind of question is that?"
"So if you have enough gold for eight lifetimes, and my sword can easily deprive you of the one you're currently living, would you say that you have enough?"
Pedro turned whiter. "W-well, since you put it that way�"
Mendoza interrupted, "I'm tired of hearing you both complain about gold. You have what you came for. If only you'd put as much effort into helping me make camp for the night."
"B-b-b-but Mendoza, we're tired!" Sancho complained.
"Yeah!" agreed Pedro, "We've carried thousands of pounds of supplies from the forest back to the Maya village today. Can't we ever get some rest?"
Mendoza replied, "You can rest once we're back in Spain. We have to make it back there, first. The Mayas are good enough to help us build a boat, but we must assist them in turn. I think that within the week, we'll be able to start our journey home. It won't be too much longer now."
A voice from the jungle answered, "And with an extra pair of hands to help you, it will all go much faster."
Mendoza stood up and brandished his sword. Sancho and Pedro picked up sticks. The jungle was dark, hideously dark, around them.
"Who are you?" asked Mendoza, "Show yourself!"
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He sat quietly in his throne of dark green aventurine stone. His long, bony fingers hung loosely off of the armrests. He was waiting. Alone, in the dark room.
"Master!" a voice cried out. The spectral figure in the throne offered no response. He sat staring at nothing. Again, "Master!" was called.
"Enter," said the man on the throne. His voice was heavy and dripping with pain.
A young soldier entered the throne room. He wore a tunic and robes of royal purple. He knelt, approached the throne, and kissed the ring of the man who sat upon it. The squire rose up.
"What news do you bring?" the man asked.
"Sire, the fleet reported a sighting north of the Haunted Mountains. Near our northern borders."
"And what action was taken?"
"None was needed. It fell to Earth of its own accord. I took the liberty of sending out a recovery team. They will not escape us this time."
"You ordered the recovery yourself? Of your own accord?"
"Yes, sire. I hope I wasn't overstepping my bounds."
"On the contrary, you exceeded my expectations. Soon, you will no longer need to consult me on such matters."
"Yes sire. I will keep you updated of our progress."
"Excellent. You may take your leave."
"Thank you, sire." The soldier bowed and turned to the entrance. Suddenly, the old man called from behind,
"Solkah!"
The soldier turned around at once. "Yes sire?"
"Do not fail me the way Menator did. Understood?"
"Yes, sire." Solkah turned once more and left the room.