The boitatá moved away and disappeared into the forest's darkness, leaving behind a heavy silence. Tassi and Carlos breathed a sigh of relief—until they saw Quixotina's body collapse to the ground. Tassi ran to her, carefully adjusting her position as she felt for a pulse.

  "There's no..." she said, her voice trembling. "The pulse is gone. She probably exhausted all the mana in her body. I've lost many comrades this way..."

  Carlos didn't waste time. He knelt beside Quixotina, confirmed the absence of a heartbeat, and with firm hands, removed the necklace with the red gem from her neck and began chest compressions.

  "What are you doing?" Tassi asked, frightened.

  "Trying to save her life. Please, step back and let me work."

  He compressed Quixotina's chest firmly, making it sink about five centimeters with each press. He knew he might break ribs, but he preferred that to losing her forever.

  "It's useless," Tassi insisted, her voice laden with despair. "When magic abandons someone's body, there's no coming back."

  Carlos ignored her words and continued. Every thirty compressions, he tilted her head back and gave her mouth-to-mouth resuscitation. Tassi fell silent upon seeing the absolute determination in his eyes.

  After an endless minute, Quixotina's fingers twitched slightly. Carlos stopped immediately and checked her pulse and breathing again—both had returned, weak but present. He fell back, sitting on the ground, panting, as Tassi also moved closer to confirm.

  "I don't believe it..." Tassi whispered, tears in her eyes. "It worked..."

  Carlos smiled, relieved, but the expression soon faded.

  "If I had known this when I was in the army..." Tassi said, her voice choked. "I could have saved so many comrades... Can you explain what you did?"

  "Of course," he replied, still catching his breath. "But first, let's get out of here. I don't want to meet another Brazilian folklore creature. Can you imagine running into a chupacabra, a werewolf, or a headless mule?"

  They looked around. The forest was completely dark, with only the faint glow of the moon filtering through the trees.

  "We must be close to the mocambo," Tassi pondered, "but only Quixotina knows the way. We might have to spend the night here."

  Carlos had an idea. He rummaged through Quixotina's things until he found the stones she had used to light the torch. Quickly, he gathered dry branches and leaves and made a campfire.

  "This way, the guards can see us," he explained. "They must know we left this afternoon."

  "That's a good plan," Tassi agreed. "Now, explain to me: where did you learn that? Is it also knowledge from your world?"

  "Yes. Back in my college days, I worked as a lifeguard at a hotel. I watched the pool to prevent drownings and, if necessary, performed first aid. What you saw was part of that training. I didn't know if it would work, but I had to try. She was here because of us, carrying our things. I don't understand much about magic, but I imagine lifting so much weight must consume a lot of mana."

  The two fell silent for a while. Carlos, with some difficulty, had managed to get the fire going, and they both just watched the flames dancing.

  After a while, Tassi swallowed dryly, remembering the unnecessary duel that had forced Quixotina to expend precious energy.

  "The fault might be more mine," she admitted. "Because of that useless duel..."

  At that moment, a weak voice interrupted the conversation:

  "The fault lies with neither of you. I was the one who overdid it today. The Light Gem consumes much more mana than the Strength Gem... that's why I only use it in critical moments."

  Carlos and Tassi turned, surprised.

  "You're alive!" they said almost in unison.

  Quixotina remained lying down, her eyes closed.

  "I am... but this migraine makes me wish I were dead."

  "Don't even think that!" Tassi exclaimed. "You should be thankful you only have a headache! Because you died, and Carlos saved you."

  "What?" Quixotina opened her eyes, confused. "I died? I only remember everything going dark... How did you save me?"

  Before Carlos could answer, a man emerged from the trees, shouting:

  "They're over here!"

  ***

  Not far away, a little white girl, with brown eyes and hair, short and chubby, watched the forest with eyes full of worry. The night was now pitch black, and the lights from the houses of Mocambo do Tatu twinkled behind her, but ahead, in the woods, there was only darkness.

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  The girl was so focused she didn't notice the arrival of a friend—a boy who had recently moved to the quilombo and had already become her playmate.

  "Don't worry," the boy said. "My dad said Tassi is very strong, and Carlos is smart. They'll be here soon. Come eat with us in the meantime! Aunt Vera made cake."

  The little girl was about to answer when she saw figures emerging from the woods. She recognized her mother among them and ran off. However, upon seeing Quixotina being carried by two people, her heart tightened.

  "Mom!" she shouted, hugging Quixotina's legs. "Are you okay?"

  The girl was on the verge of tears.

  "I'm fine, sweetheart," Quixotina replied in a weak voice. "I'm just tired. Don't worry. These guards will take me home so I can rest."

  Relieved, the girl couldn't hold back her tears and cried as she accompanied her mother and the guards.

  Carlos watched the scene, confused. What do you mean sweetheart? This girl looks about ten years old, and Quixotina doesn't look older than twenty-five...

  A boy ran towards Carlos and Tassi.

  "Uncle Carlos! Aunt Tassi! What happened to Dulcinéia's mom?"

  Carlos almost laughed. Don't tell me she named her daughter after Don Quixote's character... At least it's prettier than Quixotina. And it explains why she always asks who the cutest girl in the world is.

  Pedro appeared behind the boy.

  "Zézinho, they are tired. They'll answer your questions later. It's dark now, go back home and ask them to make more food," he instructed. Then, he looked at Carlos and Tassi. "You must be exhausted. Come to my house; there's still some dinner left, and Aunt Vera made cake."

  "Of course," Carlos accepted. "We just need to store what we gathered."

  Before storing the saltpeter, however, they had to report the incident to the guards who rescued them. When they mentioned the boitatá, the guards seemed frightened and ran off to tell Aqua.

  Carlos was exhausted and hungry, but he first stored the saltpeter in his house, along with Tassi. They still didn't have a proper storage shed—another project for the future.

  At Pedro's house, the comforting smell of food filled the air.

  "Good evening, Aunt Vera," Carlos greeted.

  "You can sit down," she replied, smiling. "I bet you're tired and hungry. While I heat up the food, tell me what happened."

  The two recounted the events in detail. Zézinho, normally restless, stayed quiet, listening attentively. At the end, Carlos added:

  "I wasn't very useful today. I didn't expect to find mythological creatures in this world... I wonder what other monsters are out there."

  A shiver ran down his spine. Tassi also seemed disturbed. I can't believe I fell like that and even dropped the weapon at the worst moment...

  It was then that Carlos noticed Tassi's hands, marked by burns.

  "What happened to your hands? Was it the boitatá?"

  She hid her hands, embarrassed.

  "Ah, it's nothing... It's just that the revolver was very hot during the fight."

  Aunt Vera, who had finished heating the food and was serving the plates, intervened:

  "None of that, young lady. You need to see the mocambo's benzedeira to treat these wounds."

  Carlos smiled inwardly. We haven't been here a month, and she already knows everything. She must be one of those aunts who stay on the corner minding everyone else's business...

  After the meal, Aunt Vera brought out a small chocolate cake.

  "I see you liked the nega maluca," Carlos commented.

  Pedro and Tassi looked confused, while Zézinho stared intently at the cake.

  "Ha ha ha, I loved it!" laughed Aunt Vera. "It's a pity the cocoa will run out soon, and we have no way to buy more."

  Tassi looked at Carlos, intrigued.

  "Don't tell me this cake is also from your world?"

  "But of course!" he replied proudly. "It's delicious!"

  In no time, the cake was gone—everyone loved it, except Carlos, who thought: Pity there's no condensed milk for the frosting...

  Pedro was impressed. He freed us, saved that woman, and even gave my mom an amazing recipe. What else does he know?

  After dinner, everyone said their goodbyes. On the way home, Carlos reflected: I just want a bath and sleep, but how to bathe in the dark? And we have to go to the stream... Better not risk meeting another freak of nature. I'll have to sleep stinking of guano. At least I won't dirty anything—I have no blankets, just a straw bed that keeps itching me.

  Arriving home, he lay down and fell asleep instantly, overcome by fatigue.

  The next day, he woke up early and went straight to the stream to bathe. The spot was used mainly by the people who had arrived with Carlos, as it was closer to their houses. The water flowed down the mountain, forming a shallow stream—until the former slaves dug a hole in the bed, creating an artificial pond deep enough for bathing. The water fell in a small cascade, and the place, surrounded by trees, offered a peaceful view of nature. A path to it was under construction.

  The pond's water flowed into another, muddy pool not used for bathing. Some residents still collected water from the stream further up, avoiding the bathing spot.

  As it was early and there was no one around, Carlos took off his clothes and dove in—and immediately regretted it.

  "My God, this water is freezing! I should have gotten in slowly..."

  Normally, he bathed later to avoid crowds—first the women, then the men—but now he feared encountering the boitatá in the dark.

  "I feel like a child afraid of the boitatá," he grumbled. "Next thing you know, they'll tell me Saci Pererê, headless mules, and Curupira exist... Some might even be cool, like a dragon. I can picture myself as a knight fighting one with a sword... Nah, I'd be devoured on the spot."

  Thinking it over, he concluded: Better try to blow up the dragon with gunpowder while it's sleeping. Speaking of which, maybe that would work on the boitatá. I need to finish the gunpowder. I hope it works—after all, I now know it's not just the Portuguese threatening the quilombo; monsters are too... Each passing day convinces me more that gunpowder and weapons are essential.