Carlos left the shed with a knot of conflicting feelings in his chest. The irritation of being overruled by Ganga Zala mixed with a deep, unexpected relief. The idea of carrying the weight of a death sentence on his conscience troubled him more than he admitted. Now, the responsibility for keeping Nyran alive and under control was no longer his, but Zala's. He was, in a way, free from that guilt.

  Tassi walked beside him, her silence more eloquent than any words. He could feel the tension emanating from her.

  "I can't believe they let her live!" Tassi's voice erupted, laden with a contained anger that seemed to have built up for years. "The King of Dahomey, where I served before, would never have hesitated! Nyran knew full well the consequences of attacking the heart of the Quilombo. I've lost many sisters in battle... losing a traitor wouldn't be a great loss."

  Carlos observed her profile in the torchlight. Despite the fury in her words, there was a slight softness around her eyes, an almost imperceptible relaxation in her shoulders. She was relieved too, even if she refused to admit it. He decided not to confront her about it.

  Tassi noticed his analytical gaze and coughed slightly, turning her face away.

  "Changing the subject..." she began, her voice a bit more controlled. "You are far more capable, Carlos. You should be the new Ganga. I'm sure you would lead the Quilombo better than Zala. Half the chiefs already think so."

  Carlos shook his head, a bitter smile on his lips.

  "Perhaps. But if they knew the radical changes I would implement, they might reconsider their support."

  Tassi leaned forward, intrigued, her eyes reflecting the flame of a nearby torch.

  "And what kind of changes would those be?"

  "To start," Carlos explained, gesturing with his hands as he walked, "there would be no more 'mocambo chiefs' with their own mini-kingdoms. The government would be centralized, with the same laws and rules for everyone. Everyone would be paid for their work; no one would work for free for status anymore." He made a dramatic pause. "If the current chiefs wanted to maintain their influence, they would have to work for the 'city hall,' proving their worth through actions, not just inherited titles or those won by force."

  At that moment, Shadow materialized from the elongated darkness cast by a hut, as if emerging from the air itself. Carlos jumped, but Tassi didn't even blink.

  "I can assure you," said Shadow, his voice a low whisper that seemed to come from all directions, "that no chief would oppose changes that ultimately benefit the Quilombo. None of them got to where they are without merit. Leadership is not a whim here; it's a necessity for survival."

  Tassi agreed with a nod.

  "I figured. With so many attacks, only the most astute and strong leaders survive to command. And, to be fair, Ganga Zala is not incompetent." She then turned back to Carlos. "But I stand by what I said. Your vision, Carlos, would benefit us more. These firearms and the gunpowder you're bringing, for example... they revolutionized how we fight. Not to mention the spyglasses and magical weapons."

  "I have to agree with that," said Shadow.

  Carlos visibly flustered, blushing slightly. He didn't expect someone like Shadow, a man of few words and shadowy actions, to express such support.

  "All of this... was only possible because of the Popess," he replied modestly. "Her cooperation was crucial. We are here because she decided to help us."

  Shadow inclined his head in agreement.

  "You are right. But that doesn't diminish your merit, Chief. The vision was yours."

  Carlos, still embarrassed, decided to change the subject.

  "Well, the only practical problem now is that Nyran will be under my custody, in my mocambo. Because of her... history... with Tassi and the yellow gem adepts."

  Shadow let out a low sound that might have been a sigh.

  "The problem is greater for me, who will have to personally watch her," he retorted. "Instead of being with the other prisoners of war doing forced labor, I'll be watching a traitor in your mocambo."

  Carlos stopped abruptly and looked at Shadow.

  "Wait... you're the one who watches my mocambo? Have you watched me before?"

  Shadow shook his head negatively, his expression impenetrable.

  "I prefer to think that I ensured your safety and, consequently, the safety of the entire Quilombo." He made a significant pause. "However, under new orders from Specter, I will now be your constant shadow. And you too, Tassi. My sister, Whisper, will be responsible for you."

  Carlos didn't like the feeling of being watched all the time, a chill running down his spine. But, considering the recent attack, he swallowed his discomfort. Then, his face lit up with sudden curiosity.

  "Shadow, how exactly does your power work? Is it teleportation?"

  "I don't know that word... 'teleportation'," Shadow replied, pondering. "Basically, I... jump from one shadow to another. As long as I can see them."

  "And what's the maximum range? How much load can you carry?" asked Carlos, his mind already working at full speed.

  "I can jump to any shadow in my field of vision. But the farther away, the more draining it is. And carrying weight, or people, multiplies that difficulty."

  Carlos put his hand to his chin, his eyes lost in mental calculations.

  If he weren't a bodyguard... what a logistical asset he would be! But no, it's better for the carts. I need to buy more horses... But for other applications, he would certainly be useful...

  "Are there other adepts of the darkness gem?" he asked, full of hope. "They could revolutionize our transportation system!"

  Shadow shook his head negatively.

  "All adepts of the darkness, vision, and assassin gems work directly for Specter. They are rare and their function is the defense of the Quilombo, not the transport of goods."

  I see, thought Carlos, a little disappointed. But well... who knows what other gems could aid in industry? I need to study machines, chemistry... and now magical gems? Just thinking about the amount of work makes me feel overwhelmed.

  The conversation flowed for a while longer until they reached the city hall. Tassi went home to rest and Shadow took his leave to fetch the siblings, who were to be brought to Carlos's office.

  Shortly after, the door to his office opened. The boy, Silvestre, entered first. His thin body was tense, fists clenched, and his wide eyes scanned the room for dangers. He positioned himself protectively in front of his sister, Silvana, who hid behind him, only her little black wolf ears and her bright, frightened golden eyes visible.

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  Carlos had already been informed of their fear. On the table, he had prepared a small trap of kindness: a plate with colorful native fruit candies, their sweet aroma contrasting with the smell of ink and paper in the room. Plus, of course, ice cream and chocolates.

  "Good afternoon," Carlos greeted, keeping his voice low and calming. He crouched down to the boy's eye level. "I know you are very scared. And I understand. You were put in an impossible situation, with few choices."

  Silvestre just fixed him with a suspicious, resentful glare, his lips firmly sealed.

  Carlos then looked at Silvana, her furry ears trembling slightly.

  But what an adorable thing! he thought, an irresistible urge to pet those ears surfacing in his mind. Focus, Carlos, focus. This is an important conversation.

  "I just want you to know," he continued, addressing both of them, "that here, you no longer need to be afraid. You will be free. Since you are children, you will live in the orphanage. You will have food, a safe place to sleep, and schooling." He paused, letting the information sink in. "But, if you want to work, I have a proposal. Something that doesn't involve hurting anyone."

  It will be a part-time job... I hope it's not dangerous for children. Well, at least not intentionally dangerous...

  Silvana, hearing this, took a small step to the side, coming out a bit from her brother's protection. Her curiosity seemed greater than her fear. She looked at Carlos, then at the candies on the table, and then back at him, her tail with the white tip wagging slowly, almost imperceptibly, behind her.

  The boy, Silvestre, felt a knot of distrust begin to unravel in his chest. The cruel logic of the world he knew said that nothing was free. Hearing that they would have to work, instead of receiving empty promises, paradoxically calmed him. It was an exchange, something he could understand.

  "So..." he began, his voice still a bit rough, but without the initial hostility. "What do you need us to do? Kill someone? Spy?"

  Carlos, seeing the opening, picked up a square of dark chocolate from a tray on the table and took a deliberate bite. The sweet and bitter aroma filled the air between them. Silvana, still behind her brother, followed the movement with fixed eyes, her little nose sniffing slightly. An intense gleam of interest lit up her face, and her little wolf ears perked up a bit.

  "As I said, it won't be anything dangerous," Carlos repeated, swallowing the chocolate. "Here in my mocambo, we have rules. And one of them is that children don't do heavy or dangerous work." He leaned forward, as if sharing a secret. "What I need is simple. I want you to use your gifts. Fly over the entire Quilombo and describe everything you see that's important. After mapping the mocambo, we need to do the same with the On?a Forest. We need to know our territory like the back of our hand."

  Silvestre visibly relaxed upon hearing the proposal. Fly and observe? That he could do. But then an old fear, familiar and sharp, tightened his heart.

  "My sister..." he said, his voice becoming defensive again. "She can't turn into a bird. When they performed the ritual on her, to become a werewolf... she consumed too much of the beast's blood. Because of that, she only turns into werewolves and wolves. And... and she became half-human, half-monster forever." He spat out the next words with anger: "Everyone says she's a freak. But they're all wrong! My sister is still the same on the inside!"

  Carlos didn't hesitate. His gaze went straight to Silvana, who lowered her head, as if expecting another reprimand.

  "I totally agree with you, Silvestre," Carlos said, his voice firm and sincere. "Your sister is in no way a freak. In fact, I think she's super cute just the way she is!"

  Silvana took a quick, surprised glance at Carlos before shrinking back again, but this time a slight blush colored her cheeks. Silvestre simply froze, his mind trying to process the words. Praise? For his sister? This was... unprecedented.

  Ahem! Ahem!

  Carlos patted his chest lightly, pretending to choke on the chocolate to break the tension.

  "Well, why don't you sit here?" he suggested, pulling two heavy wooden chairs to the table. "Let's have something to eat while we talk more calmly."

  Reluctantly, Silvestre sat on the edge of the chair, keeping his posture erect. Silvana imitated him, slipping into the chair beside him. Her eyes, however, were glued to the temptations on the table: not just the chocolate, but also small bowls of creamy ice cream that were beginning to sweat in the warm office air. Despite the attraction, both maintained a vigilant focus.

  "If... if she won't be able to help me with this..." Silvestre spoke, hesitantly, "you won't want to keep her, will you? Well, know that you won't separate us! Where I go, she goes!"

  Carlos shook his head with a patient smile.

  "Even if you two had no magical gifts, you would stay together in the orphanage I'm building. And both of you would attend school. The work, which would only be in the afternoon shift, is optional. Since Silvana won't be able to help with this specific aerial mapping task, she will be free. That means, for now, only you, Silvestre, will receive a salary."

  Silvestre's face became serious again. The world had taught him that "salary" was synonymous with "precarious survival."

  "And how much is this salary?" he asked, his tone challenging. "I bet it's not enough to buy food for both of us and pay rent."

  My God, thought Carlos, his heart tightening. What must this child have gone through for his first concerns to be rent and food?

  "No, listen," he explained gently. "You won't pay anything for the orphanage. The food, the shelter, the clothes, the school supplies... all of that will be provided until you are adults." He pointed to the table. "But things like this, like extra ice creams and chocolates... that, you will have to buy with your salary. That's why I suggest you enjoy what's already in front of you. It's on me."

  The relief that washed over the two siblings was almost palpable. A tension left their thin shoulders. Silvana, finally, stretched out her hand curiously and picked up a square of chocolate, smelling it before taking a cautious bite. Her eyes widened, and an almost inaudible sigh of pleasure escaped her lips. Silvestre, watching her, took a spoonful of ice cream. The sweet, cold flavor on his tongue was a long-forgotten sensation.

  I almost feel bad, using sweets to 'buy' the cooperation of children, Carlos reflected internally. But having an accurate aerial map of this region is a huge strategic advantage. I need to know every inch of this territory, every river, every clearing... Speaking of which, I also need to buy maps from merchants, check the neighboring towns, and plan routes...

  As the two children delighted in the sweets, losing some of their rigidity, Carlos saw an opportunity.

  "Here in the mocambo," he began, trying to sound casual, "we have some adepts who use gems, and we even got some golden gems like yours from other invaders. But we don't know how to use them properly. Can you tell me how they work?"

  Silvestre finished swallowing a spoonful of ice cream and pointed to the golden gem embedded in his own chest, which glowed softly.

  "For us to transform," he explained, "the gem has to be stuck to the body, right here. They use the magic of the healing gem when putting it on, otherwise the person dies." He made a face. "I heard that the ancient Indians didn't even use healing... they said if you died, it was because you weren't worthy of the gem." He shrugged. "Now, about the drawings they make on the gems... the correct order of the runes... that I don't know. Only Caetano's alchemist knew."

  "Okay, no problem!" Carlos cheered up, mentally noting the information. "Just what you told me helps a lot!"

  The conversation continued, with Carlos trying to extract more information, but it became clear that the children's practical knowledge of the gems was limited to their own traumatic experience. After a while, a woman in a white apron appeared at the door.

  "Are you ready to see your new home?" she asked with a warm smile.

  Carlos nodded to the siblings.

  "Dona Iara will take you to the orphanage. Remember, you can visit me whenever you want. And you can visit Nyran too, with supervision."

  Silvana looked at Carlos quickly and gave a small, almost imperceptible nod.

  Dona Iara led the two through the mocambo to a new, simple but well-built building with cement walls and a clay tile roof. It was the Sunrise Orphanage. Inside, it smelled of clean wood and soap. The place was spacious. A large central hall with colorful mats and cushions for playing led to several smaller rooms. Each room housed four to six rustic wooden beds, covered with clean blankets. There was a peaceful silence in the place, broken only by the song of birds outside. They were taken to a room with two beds side by side, near a window that let in the cool afternoon air.

  As soon as the door closed and they were alone, Silvana ran to one of the beds, grabbed the soft pillow, and hugged it, burying her face in it.

  "I liked that man..." she whispered, her voice muffled by the fabric. "And he said we can visit Aunt Nyran..." She lifted her face, a shadow of worry crossing her almond-shaped eyes. "But I'm scared of school."

  Silvestre sat on the bed next to hers, swinging his legs that didn't reach the floor.

  "Don't worry," he said, with a seriousness that was too great for his age. "I'll protect you. Always." He then gave a light laugh. "...even though, if needed, you can just turn into a werewolf and scare everyone. Then no one will mess with us."

  He looked around the empty room, then at the silent corridor. There were other empty beds, waiting for other children who, he hoped, didn't have stories as dark as theirs. The sound of pots clattering from a distant kitchen brought the promise of a hot meal. For the first time in a very, very long time, the future didn't seem like an imminent threat, but a slightly less frightening possibility. But that didn't mean the small hearts of the two weren't full of anxiety.