The pleasant smell of beans filled the small house. Carlinha ate slowly, listening to her parents' animated conversation. The sound of the wooden spoon hitting the pot still echoed in the kitchen.

  "Jorginho, it's the perfect chance!" said Fernanda, her eyes shining. "The ice cream parlor is in a good spot, near the square. With your gift for the ice and iron gems, you can invent fvors no one has ever seen!"

  Jorginho shook his head, a wide smile on his face. "It's true, my love. I'll do it. Having a business again, our own business... it will change everything for us."

  Fernanda shook her head."Your business. As for me, I'll work at the town hall. We'll never again put all our eggs in one basket."

  Carlinha ate her rice and beans, watching some ants carrying a grain of rice near the table. She didn't really understand what a "business" was or why the ice cream parlor was so important. She only knew it had been a long time since she'd seen her father and mother so excited, ughing and making pns. Before, the conversations were whispered and sad, full of words like "hunger" and "bills." She preferred it this way.

  It's so nice when they're ughing, she thought, sucking her sticky finger. Mommy's voice sounds like a little bird's.

  She had barely finished eating when the fatigue from a whole day pying tag with the other children in the quilombo hit her. Her eyelids grew heavy.

  Fernanda saw her daughter swaying in the chair, almost falling asleep. "My, seems someone pyed until the very st drop of energy was gone," she said in a soft voice.

  She stood up, picked up Carlinha—who was already limp and warm—and carried her to the straw mattress. The smell of dry straw was cozy.

  "Good night, my little angel," Fernanda whispered, covering her with a patched bnket.

  As soon as Carlinha closed her eyes, Fernanda took Jorginho's hand with a clever smile. "Now it's our turn to py."

  She pulled him into the other room, not even minding the dirty dishes on the table. They had more important things to do.

  The morning sun came through the crack in the door, and Carlinha was awakened by her mother's gentle kisses on her face.

  "Good morning, princess! Today is a special day, huh? Time to wake up for school!"

  She rubbed her eyes with her fists, sitting up in bed. "Okay, Mom..." she mumbled, her voice full of sleep.

  Breakfast was quick: bread with sweet mosses and an herbal tea that warmed her belly. Afterwards, they set off. Carlinha had no idea what a "school" was. But Dulcinéia, her best friend, had said she would be there. And that was enough.

  I wonder if we'll get to py tag? Or draw on the ground with sticks? she imagined, holding her mother's hand. But a little pang of longing tightened her heart. I wish Pedro and Ana, from White Sand, could come too... I wonder if they remember me?

  The school was a building unlike all the others, made of red bricks with a strong smell of lime. It looked new and important.

  "Alright, sweetie?" asked Fernanda, kneeling before her. "It's going to be great. Learn well, listen to the teacher, and py a lot during recess. Mommy will come get you ter."

  A little chill danced in Carlinha's stomach, but it vanished the instant she heard a familiar shout.

  "Car!"

  It was Dulcinéia, running with her colorful dress swinging and her blonde hair flying. She grabbed Carlinha's hand. "Come on! I'll show you our cssroom! There's a huge drawing on the wall!"

  Now, everything seemed right.

  Except the first day was... boring. Very boring. She had to sit at a hard desk, listening to adults talk about numbers and letters that made no sense. Why do I need to know this if I can already count to ten? she thought, yawning and drawing little animals in the margin of her notebook.

  The only good part was when Dulcinéia's mother taught. She taught reading with stories about forest animals and healing pnts. That was cool!

  The great relief came at recess. The sound of the bell echoed through the yard and all the children ran out into the sun. The snack was a slice of corn cake, sweet and fluffy. Carlinha and Dulcinéia pyed tag until they were out of breath, their ughter filling the air.

  ***

  A few days ter, in the Popess's boratory, inside the Holy City of Santa Maria.

  Before beginning the delicate procedure, Pau prepared the subject. She pced the rat in a gss container and, with tweezers, introduced an ember onto a small portion of resinous opium. A sweet, heavy smell began to fill the space. Within seconds, the animal's anxious movements gave way to deep drowsiness, and it y motionless, ready for its baptism of regeneration. It was a much more effective method than concussion or alcohol, allowing the body to remain rexed and intact for her studies.

  A sharp smell of alcohol and medicinal herbs impregnated the air. Pau, with steady hands, dissected the leg of the anesthetized white rat. Then, a soft glow emanated from her hands, and the alteration gem on her chest shimmered. The animal's leg began to regenerate, the bones, muscles, and vessels weaving together in a spectacle of light.

  Using the leg she had cut off, she meticulously tried to shape a second rat, an embryonic twin.

  When the light ceased, two identical rats y on the table. One breathed, its heart beating. The other, perfectly formed, remained motionless, an empty body.

  "Another failure," she murmured, frustration tinging her voice. "I can recreate living matter, the flesh, the bones... but I cannot ignite the spark. The body is alive, the vital functions are there... but it's like a beautiful, empty house. Is the missing piece the soul?"

  She noted the results with a quill pen, the sound of scratching the only noise in the heavy silence.

  If I had a human body to study... the complexity would be greater, but the answers might be there, she thought, looking at the sacred tomes open on her desk. But recreating a human body would require an absurd amount of mana... and a mistake would be catastrophic. I wonder if Carlos, with his peculiar mind, would have any idea what's missing? It's worth the risk. I just hope he doesn't ask for another impossible feat in return.

  As she organized her notes, a cardinal knocked on the door.

  "Your Holiness! Letters from the church headquarters!"

  Pau quickly opened the door and almost snatched the envelopes from the man's hands.

  The only real benefit of being a church authority, she reflected, breaking the wax seal. Having access to the wind gem-powered ships. Communication with the other side of the world, which would take months for others, takes me weeks. Knowledge is power, and power needs to be fast.

  She read the first letter and a victorious smile spread across her face. "Ha! I knew they would accept the proposal!" she said to the silent boratory walls. "Carlos will be thrilled with this news. The ores will take another month to arrive, but I can already cim my reward. Antibiotics! If I master their manufacture, it will be seen as yet another miracle directly from my hands. No matter how complex they are, I will figure out how to make them!"

  The euphoria, however, was short-lived. The second letter left her face tense. It spoke of sending "assistants" from the headquarters to administer the growing Holy City.

  That damned Pope Henry, she thought, her fingers tightening on the paper until it crumpled. Even miles away, he insists on making my life hell. Of course the suggestion to send spies to watch me came from him. Now I'll have to waste energy hiding the boratory and the more... controversial tomes. They'll find out eventually, but until then, I need to consolidate my power.

  She left the boratory and went to her office, tossing the letters disdainfully onto the solid oak desk. Better to focus on what I can control, she decided, picking up a new sheet of parchment. I'll cim my advance payment from Carlos.

  She had barely dipped the quill in the inkwell when the cardinal knocked again.

  "Your Holiness! Another letter, this time from the quilombo!"

  Finally, she thought, taking the envelope with expectation. My monthly knowledge summary.

  The letters from the quilombo contained the knowledge Carlos passed to her, and not only that, but also Ant?nio's reports, which interested her greatly at the moment.

  Reading the letter, it was the same as always.Carlos pnned to build a road to the meeting point, built another factory, more shops, schools, increased saries.

  Constructions, constructions, constructions... Does he pn to build a new capital in this new world? But more importantly, he has already started producing steel! The taxes from that alone will make me rich.

  After reading the report, she moved on to Carlos's letters, which delved even deeper into biology and the human body. But it was the question at the end that made her stop. Slowly, she sat down, pcing the letter on the desk.

  So it's not a unique gift? Any peasant with a handful of dirt can achieve the same enlightenment as I, if they have the right knowledge? No, it's impossible. I was the first! I am the pioneer! Carlos just wants my confirmation because he recognizes my authority on the subject. And no one, no one, has the speed of learning that divine grace has granted me. This gift is still mine, and mine alone.

  With renewed determination, she pulled out a scroll and began writing her response to Carlos. But she stopped halfway.

  The Popess let the metal pen rest on the inkwell, its metallic sound echoing softly in the stillness. Her fingers, stained with ink, traced the rough texture of the embossed paper she had just filled out – the letter to the Jabuticaba Quilombo.

  She leaned back in the leather chair, which creaked under her weight, and picked up the porcein teacup. The warm, bitter liquid, made with herbs from the sert?o, trickled down her throat as her tired eyes fixed on the wall where an ebony crucifix hung.

  With the people from the church headquarters coming... Carlos's theory about the gem... and I still need to cim my reward for everything I've done so far, she whispered to herself, her voice a little hoarse.

  The silence that followed was broken by the distant song of a thrush outside. She pced the cup back on the saucer with a soft clink, the sound precisely matching the rhythm of her accelerating thoughts.

  "Perhaps... perhaps it's time to act more boldly," she murmured, rising and walking to the half-open window.

  She turned her back to the window, staring at the door of her study as if she could see right through it.

  "Hiding behind letters and half-words has run its course," she said, her voice gaining a new firmness. "It's time to make our ties public. To face the consequences head-on."

  A slow, calcuting smile spread across her lips.

  "And I know exactly how to do it. If I can convert the entire quilombo..." her voice dropped to a near-conspiratorial tone, her eyes fixed on a distant point on the horizon, beyond the walls. "...who will be able to criticize me? Quite the opposite. I can procim, before the Church and the authorities, that I was the divine instrument that calmed the fearsome quilombo 'barbarians'. That I tamed them for the faith. It would be... an unquestionable victory."

  She walked back to the desk. Her hand, now steady, picked up a small silver bell.

  "Yes," she said, alone in the room but with the conviction of one addressing a crowd. "It's time for a face-to-face conversation with Carlos. We need to talk about the future. Their future... and mine."

  The clear ring of the bell echoed down the hallway, summoning her acolyte. The pn was in motion.