Once, they made it back to the castle on the lone island floating off the coast, Roende returned the bracelet to his amigo and went straight to the expansive kitchen. The maralujo put logs into a stone oven protruding from the wall before directing Angélio to a circular table with spiral-carved legs.

After taking the lids off a few glowing clay pots, Roende said, "Here's a snack," and set down a plate with sliced avocados, refried beans, a steaming flour tortilla, and a piece of cotija cheese plus an ice-cold glass of horchata in front of Angélio.

"¡Gracias!" Angélio blurted out. His rumbling stomach was exceedingly grateful.

"De nada (you're welcome)," the Roende said and continued with his baking.

After much mixing, stirring, scraping of delicious-smelling vanilla beans, and picking fresh fresas (strawberries) from one of the gardens, the cake went into the hot oven. Sometime later, the whole kitchen was filled with the mouthwatering smell of a baking cake.

Roende brought in six ears of scrumptious yellow corn, which he loaded onto a large wooden tray with whipped butter, fresh cilantro, and some seasonings in a bowl. Then, the maralujo whistled, which sounded like the lovely song of the clarín jilguero (brown-backed solitaire) bird.

Footsteps approached from the corridor to Angélio's right. He slid to the edge of his stool, straining to see who or what was coming from toward the kitchen.

A striking statue of a teenage maralujo walked in. It was made of beautiful dark brown wood with black streaks. No rough spots were anywhere on the glassy, varnished surface. The figure looked like a real maralujo, wings and all, with wooden skin.

The statue nodded at Angélio, who managed a slow nod in return. In slack-jawed silence, Angélio watched as it gave a slight bow to Roende, picked up the wooden tray, and left.

"Take this to the beach, Rojol," Roende said.

Rojol nodded and did as he was told.

"Can he talk?" the question dribbled out of Angélio's mouth.

"When he chooses to," Roende said, checking the device on his wrist that appeared with a tap once again. "Your cake is ready for the final touches now," he added before taking the confection out of the oven.

That has to be a watch, Angélio thought. He checked his own watch to see how much time had passed and frowned but the lousy thing had stopped working. Again. He sighed. Papi just got the battery changed like two days ago.

The frosted, misting jar Roende took out of the cupboard distracted Angélio from his busted watch. The maralujo opened the lid and poured a foggy, blue drop onto the cake.

"That should cool it down," the maralujo said.

Roende poked holes into the cake with a wooden skewer and poured the milk mixture over it. Next, he frosted it with the meringue he'd made, and sprinkled some cinnamon on top before garnishing the cake with sliced strawberries. Lastly, he tapped out two more foggy blue drops from the frosted jar over the delicious-looking dessert.

"Listo (ready)," Roende flashed a satisfied smile. "Now all we need is a piñata."

"Where will you get one from?" Angélio asked, assuming a castle didn't just have such objects growing on trees. Or did it? He wondered.

"Follow me," Roende said.

Maybe it does have a piñata tree, he thought, following after his host.

They walked down one of the column-lined, archway corridors until they came to a large circular room. The ceiling was much like the kaleidoscope one he'd seen earlier, however, it featured an eigh-pointed star pattern.

On the higher part of the wall were beautiful depictions of maralujes doing various tasks from harvesting corn to sewing clothing. The hexagonal-tiled floor was covered in wood shavings and sawdust. Off to the side, a long workbench with an array of obsidian tools hanging on the wall above it. Several unfinished human-looking sculptures were scattered around the room.

Roende walked up to one of the bookcases, tracing his finger along each spine until it stopped on a burgundy volume.

"Here it is," he said before opening the book and showing it to Angélio. There was a colourful, nine-pointed piñata drawn on the page. "Will that one suffice?"

"Yes," Angélio nodded. It wasn't a pirate piñata he'd wanted his papá to buy for him. But any piñata is better than no piñata at all, he concluded.

"Perfecto," Roende said before ripping the page out, rolling it up and shoving it in the little pouch on his hip. "Can you find your way back to the kitchen?"

"I think so," Angélio said.

"Good. Rojol should be back by now; he will take you to the beach," Roende added.

"Aren't you going coming too?" Angélio wrinkled his forehead.

"I am, but I just need to get a few things ready for your special day first," was the reply.

Angélio shrugged. That seemed reasonable. "Okay, see you soon."

"See you soon, amigo," Roended said.

Upon returning to the kitchen, Angélio found Rojol waiting there. The walking sculpture gestured for the boy to follow him out into the garden. There, Angélio climbed on Rojol's back and they flew down to the beach.

Gentle waves washed against the shore as Angélio's feet touched the soft, damp sand. A bright smile lit up his face when he saw what awaited him. Rojol had set up a table that had the tres leches cake on it as well as the tray with the corn, and two painted clay cups. And not too far away from the table, a crackling fire, encircled by smooth rocks, danced to an unheard beat.

"Muchas gracias (thank you very much)!" Angélio said to Rojol, beaming.

The sculpture gave a slight nod and what a small smile.

As Angélio was inspecting the set-up more closely, Roende landed holding a brown acoustic guitar with black knotted patterns on the body in one hand and a round bottle, containing a reddish amber-coloured liquid, in the other.

"A proper birthday party requires music and something to toast with," Roende smiled and gestured for Angélio to follow him to the table.

There, the maralujo filled the two cups with the contents of the round bottle. Angélio was about to reach for one of them when Roende stopped him.

"Not yet," he said. "You must hit the piñata first. And for that, you should have some guests to cheer you on, no?"

Angélio knit his eyebrows together. "Guests?"

Roende nodded and strummed his guitar. Angélio's eyes grew wide. Soon, a dozen children poured out of the forest behind them and approached the beach. Or they looked like children from afar. Up close, Angélio could tell that they were also wooden sculptures, even though they were painted exceptionally well and looked very real. Maybe they would have fooled him if they didn't all have that small dark red patch on various parts of their bodies.

Angélio shrugged, deciding that they looked real enough to pass as party guests. "Welcome," he said to the statues. "Thanks for coming. It was very kind of all of you to come on such short notice. My name's Angélio--what are your names?"

"Time for your piñata," Roende said before they could respond to Angélio.

He took the page out of the pouch, opened his hand, and it began to float. Suddenly, it burst into flames, and burned down, leaving a tiny piñata hovering over the maralujo's open palm. Roende flicked it with his finger, sending the miniature paper mache object flying. The piñata spun round like a top, growing larger and larger with each rotation until it was full-size.

Angélio could only look on in awe at the colourful object floating in midair. "Genial," he said breathlessly with his mouth hanging open, barely noticing that Rojol had slipped a wooden bat into his hand.

Roende approached with a blindfold. "Are you ready?"

Angélio nodded slowly and the cloth was wrapped around his eyes, turning his world to darkness. The wooden children formed a circle around the boy and the floating piñata and started rhythmically clapping. Aside from that they didn't make any other sound.

Roende yelled, "Go!" and began playing his guitar, providing lovely music to the scene.

Angélio swung at the piñata, which moved up and down--as if pulled by an invisible rope. He missed. But undeterred, he swung again and hit it will full force, making a satisfying thump sound. It sounded like it was full to the brim with sweet treats, inspiring Angélio to take another big swing.

He missed again. But that's when Angélio started listening more intently to the clapping echoing in his ears. Angélio swung and made contact again. They're clapping in time with the piñata's movement, he realized. Every time their hands came together, that's when the candy-filled object was right in his strike zone.

And that was it: the piñata never stood a chance. Angélio laid into it with reckless abandon. Swing after swing found its mark without fail, leaving Angélio smiling so much that his face started hurting.

However, had the boy been able to see, he would have noticed that the guitar was playing all by itself, hovering in the air like a balloon.

Roende was over at the table, standing in front of the two cups. When the piñata cracked open, the maralujo flew back to the guitar in the blink of an eye.

Chocolates shaped like suns, moons, and stars started pouring out of their battered container. But they stopped short of hitting the sand, floating just above the ground. The children rushed in and grabbed the treats as Angélio lifted his blindfold off.

"Well done," Roende said proudly.

Angélio was beaming as one of the wooden children handed him a chocolate star. He thanked her, took a bite and savoured the most delicious candy he'd ever tasted. Then they other put the rest of the chocolates into a woven basket on the table.

"You should have some too," Angélio said to the children. "There's no way I can eat all that chocolate by myself."

"It would be wasted on them," Roende said. "They can't taste anything."

"Oh." Angélio's voice fell. "I'm so sorry."

He was about to thank them for coming and helping him when Roende spoke.

"That will be all children," he said. "You can go now."

"Where do they live?" Angélio asked.

"Looks like it's time for cake," Roende turned to the boy and smiled. "We should have some before it gets dark."

Angélio watched the children melt into the shadows of the forest. There was a deep sadness in their eyes--a sadness Angélio could feel in a way that he couldn't quite explain. Roende laid a hand on his shoulder, urging him towards the cake.

The maralujo cut him a huge slice and handed him a smooth, wooden fork. Angélio's tastebuds danced at the first bite. No other cake could compare. Not even a little bit. And the fresh strawberries sent the flavours soaring to higher heights.

"How is it?" Roende asked.

"Delicious--I've never had a cake like this before. Gracias, Roende, gracias," Angélio said.

"De nada (you're welcome)," was the reply. "Anything for a friend."

Angélio had another piece and glanced at the forest. Even though they couldn't taste it, he wished he could have shared the with the children. That heavy thought left a bitter-sweet taste in his mouth. But he didn't want to disappoint Roende, so he kept his grey mood to himself.

Absentmindedly, Angélio reached for one of the cups and was about to take a sip when Roende snatched it out of the boy's hand.

"Perdón (sorry)," the maralujo said. "That one's mine." He then handed the other cup to Angélio.

Roende explained that it was juice from Golden Root Sugar Cane that grew on the island. And like everything else, it was delicious and refreshing. After finishing his slice of cake, the maralujo roasted the corn and made elote for him and Angélio. And when Angélio assured Roende that he was too full to eat another bite, Rojol flew the food back to the castle.

Just before putting out the fire, Roende threw the cloaks and the masks they'd worn earlier into it. 

Angélio scratched his head as the flames consumed the items. "Why did you do that?" he asked. "Won't we need those again?"

"The guards will be looking for the villager they spoke to," he replied. "It's best if they never find him. There's also a chance that they saw your cloak, so it's best to not risk them putting two and two together. I don't know who they were looking for but we don't need them looking for us as well. Besides, there's more where they came from."

Angélio looked at the fire and did his best to suppress his own burning questions and simply nodded.

Once the objects had turned to ash, Roende blew the fire out like a candle and they flew back to the castle.

The maralujo showed the Angélio to his room, which left the boy's head spinning from trying to take everything in. The fine chamber contained elegant furniture such as padded wooden chairs and a table in a sitting area to a large. In the centre of the room, a colourful hammock was suspended from two hooks on either wall. But the ceiling was more impressive still; it featured a small setting sun and a rising moon with a star-speckled night sky appearing as the backdrop.

"Thank you--for everything," Angélio. It was the best cumpleaños (birthday) I've ever had."

"You're very welcome," Roende smiled. "It was the least I could do. But," he added. "No birthday would be complete without a regalo (present)."

Angélio tilted his head to one side as if he wasn't sure he'd heard that right. "Regalo?"

"Yes, it's--" Roende said.

"But I don't really need a present," Angélio replied before Roende could finish. "You've done so much already," he said sincerely.

"Be that as it may," Roende continued. "I would like to give you a present." The maralujo held out something wrapped in a white cloth.

Angélio took it and removed the covering. Underneath was a woven conical cylinder in which there were five rods.

"Take one out," Roende said.

When he did, Angélio soon found himself holding a mid-sized spear. The wooden part was composed entirely of little cube-shaped carvings and was tipped with a sharp, obsidian spearhead; a pale yellow feather was tied just beneath the glinting point.

"These will be of great use to you," Roende said. "I'll show you how they work tomorrow."

"What will I use them for?" Angélio asked.

"They'll be plenty of time to go over that in the morning. For now, all you need to know is that they will help us get you the yutsil (magic) you need to become a great fútbol player," was the reply. "You still want to achieve that, right?"

"I don't understand how spears will make me better at fútbol," Angélio shook his head in genuine confusion.

"It will make sense in the end," Roende said. "Now rest up. We have a long day ahead of us tomorrow. If you need anything, pull the red rope hanging next to your bed, and Rojol will come. Buenas noches (good night)."

Roede left before Angélio could return the greeting, disappearing around the corner. Strange, he thought, closing the door.

Angélio set the spears down next to the table and climbed into the hammock. Much to his surprise, he didn't have to shuffle around to get comfortable. The soft strands hugged his body like a cloud that was as cool as the other side of the pillow.

He stared at the ceiling, alive with its miniature moon and stars. It was difficult to fall asleep with all the events of the day running through his mind. But eventually, his eyelids grew heavy and his racing thoughts rested from their roaming labours.

Angélio drifted off to sleep in the bliss of knowing that he was one step closer to checking off the last item on his list--the gift he wanted most of all: spending time with his dad.

♧♧♧

If you're enjoying this ONC novella, be sure to check out "Runaway Fiancés" by authorelizasolares.

In historical Spain, two strangers manage to escape engagements they don't want. Pretending to be married gives him purpose and her protection. But it won't be enough to evade their powerful fathers for long.