Inches before Angélio's back made contact with a pointy, thorn-covered tree, Roende grabbed him by the shoulder. Angélio exhaled a trembling breath. The near bone-crushing grip of the maralujo sent a wild bolt of pain shooting through the boy's body. But he didn't have much time to dwell on that. Roende picked the boy up like he was cradling a baby and flew straight down toward the leaf-covered ground.

"The cloak," Angélio said breathlessly, gesturing to the garment hanging from one of the thorny limbs scratching at the sky.

Roende uttered something in a tone that reminded Angélio of when his papá watches fútbol and the guy he's cheering for misses a goal he should've scored.

They landed on the jungle floor under the shade of massive, trees with mossy trunks.

"Ow," Angélio rubbed his sore shoulder.

"Give me the bracelet--now!" Roende demanded.

"But won't that make me invisible?" Angélio asked.

"That is entirely the point--give it here--hurry." The maralujo seemed like he was seconds away from ripping it off the boy's wrist.

"Here." Angélio took it off and faded from sight; the red bracelet appeared to be floating in midair.

Roende snatched it and stuffed up his shirt sleeve. "Hide behind that tree--now," he pointed to a bronze bark plant about two feet away. "And do not speak until they leave."

"Until who leaves?" Angélio asked, looking around but seeing no one else but Roende.

"Do as you are told--if you want to live," was the reply.

Angélio tried to swallow as he rushed over to the strange tree with the broad, peeling bark. He tripped over a root as he ducked behind the trunk.

Seconds later, two strapping maralujos dressed in deep purple clothing with feather-like texture, trimmed with black and gold landed near Roende. The ground shook when they touched down. Dried leaves blew everywhere, filling the air with their rustling songs.

The formidable pair wore golden helmets shaped like the head and beak of a large guacamayo escarlata (scarlet macaw). They carried colourful hexagonal shields with elaborate, knotted patterns painted on them in one hand. And in the other, they held swords with obsidian blades, etched with glowing symbols and wooden hilts, which resembled the macuahuitl of the Maya and Aztecs. Angélio remembered seeing those weapons during a school trip to the National Museum.

As the warriors stepped closer to Roende, their clothing clinked like jingling keys.

Roende bent his right arm in an L-shape and bowed his head. "Good afternoon, yumsitlos (sirs)," he said.

"Why are you here instead of preparing for the Procession of the Veiled Sun?" one of them said in a tone that was more command than question.

"Forgive me, yumsitlo (sir), but I am not from the city," Roende replied, keeping his head bowed. "I'm a villager on his way to get some milk for my elderly mother. We plan to attend the next Veiled Sun Procession to do honour to our Radiant Lady, may she ever rise."

"May she ever rise," the warriors said in unison.

"I have made note of your wings. See to it that you do attend next time," the other one said.

"We will, yumsitlo," Roende replied.

"Very well. Have you seen anyone else around these parts?" he asked, scanning the area.

Angélio covered his mouth, holding his breath when the warrior's piercing gaze fell on him like a battle axe.

"No, yumsitlo," Roende replied, stammering.

"You are aware of the penalty for attempting to deceive us, yes?"

"I am, yumsitlo," Roende didn't raise his head.

"Then, let me ask you again," he said. "Have you seen anyone else around here today?"

"No, yumsitlo--I swear by the sun," Roende replied.

The warriors whispered something to each other before addressing Roende again.

"Very well, villager," one of them said. "We must be off now. But know this: if I discover that you're involved, no matter how minute your role, you will not live long enough to taste the bitterness of regret. I will see to that personally."

The two maralujos shot into the air with a flap of their black wings.

Roende stared at the sky in silence for a while time. Angélio looked on, frozen by fear. Part of him wanted to run away as fast as his feet would take him. The other half shivered at the thought of running into one of the warriors and seeing his life flash before his eyes in their blades.

"Come. We need to go," Roende finally said, calling the boy over.

Angélio walked over at a crawling pace--as if the ground were a thin sheet of ice. When he reached Roende, he was instructed to climb onto the maralujo's back and to hold on tightly.

As they flew up, Roende grabbed the cloak hanging from the tree and put it in a little bag tied to his waist. Angélio's eyes widened as the piece of clothing shrunk until it disappeared into the small pouch!

When Carcoel disappeared behind a cloud of smoke pouring out of a nearby volcano's peak, Angélio decided to ask a few burning questions.

"Who were they?" said.

"Royal Guards from Carcoel," Roende replied.

"Royal? So they must take care of Radiant Lady you were talking about, right?" Angélio asked.

"Yes," Roende said coldly.

That's pretty cool, Angélio thought. "But if they're supposed to be looking after her, why would they want to... hurt me?" he asked, dreading the answer.

"Because you're human," Roende said.

"Oh." Angélio's throat tightened. "Did humans do something bad to them? Is that why they don't--"

Roende cut him off before he could finish and said, "they fear that which they refuse to understand. That is all you need to know."

Angélio was silent for a while as he pondered Roende's answer. But the more he thought, the less it made sense. However, he decided to not ask Roende anything else about Carcoel and their hatred of humans--at least for the time being. It was clear that the maralujo didn't like the place--nor anyone from or in it, which made him all the more curious about why.

People don't dislike things for no reason, he thought. And maralujos can't be that different. I didn't like visiting Tía Magdalena because her house smelled like old repollos (cabbages)--and so did she, unfortunately. So, the question is: what are the old cabbages making Roende dislike Carcoel? Now might not be the best time to bring that up, though.

"Can I have my bracelet back?" Angélio asked.

"No," was the reply. "You are going to keep quiet while I buy the things I need--we need."

"¿Cómo? (What?)" Angélio said, scarcely believing his ears. "Am I going to have to hang onto you the whole time?"

"Yes." Roende's tone was as unmoving as a stone wall.

"But my arms are getting tired," Angélio complained.

"If the seller sees you and the guards come to question her, they'll know I lied and will come searching for us. Is that what you want?"

Angélio thought of their sharp swords and shook his head. "No."

"A sensible answer," Roende said.

Soon they landed in a verdant valley surrounded by snow-capped mountains. A brisk breeze blew against Angélio's skin and goosebumps popped up all over his arms.

Roende wasted no time charming the pretty maraluja with blonde hair. Her wings resembled those of a Swallowtail Cattleheart butterfly--just like Roende's and those of the guards. With one exception: hers had patches of white while theirs had patches of green.

The maraluja giggled at all the jokes Roende made. She looked at him the way that one waitress who worked in the restaurant by the river looked at Angélio's dad, the boy observed. But Papi never lets her think he's in love with her--if he said half the things Roende's saying, she might start to think that, he thought. Because he still loves Mami.

Angélio glanced over at the cows behind the wooden fence to his right. The animals had light brown fur that had a golden sheen to it. But most interesting of all were their horns, which looked like tree branches, blooming with roses of blue, orange, and black.

Angélio almost said "Wow." But he remembered the guard's icy glare and sucked the word back in.

Roende paid for the various dairy products with gold and silver coins of different sizes; each was shaped like a different type of orchid. After the maralujo slipped the items into the pouch on his hip, they took to the sky again.

"Do you love her?" Angélio asked.

"Who?" Roende said.

"The maraluja you bought the milk from," he said.

"No," was the reply.

Angélio wrinkled his forehead. "Then why'd you say those things to her?"

"I needed to get what I wanted," Roende said. "And that was the quickest way to achieve that."

"So, you won't be coming back to see her even though you promised you would?" Angélio said.

"There's no need," Roende said.

"Won't that make her sad?" he asked.

"She'll survive, I'm certain," Roende replied.

"Oh," Angélio knit his eyebrows together. "My Papá says te amo (I love you) are some of the most powerful words in the world. So, they should only be used when you truly mean them."

"That's a very romantic sentiment," Roende said. "But love and practicality aren't compatible. And given the choice between the two, I'll choose practicality each time. You'd be wise to do the same."

Angélio pondered the idea of love versus practicality, but he struggled to see how they needed to conflict with one another.

♧♧♧

If you're enjoying this ONC novella, be sure to check out "Ctrl Alt Del" by BrianMullin0

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