When the last seed touched water, watchers rose several at once, gliding above shimmering surface like constellations in motion. Chaucer of them formed a circle, rotating, pulsing. Then they streamed upward, as if carried by unseen wind, and dispersed into the sky along the north winds.
No one spoke at first. The water rippled. Ribbons on the bank quivered longer than any breeze.
Then Jude whispered, "They carry it."
Grace held him close. "Our story."
They returned to camp and extinguished lanterns. Watchers returned to orchard, but tonight even they spoke in silence.
The next dawn broke clear with promise. Jude, Grace, Scarlet, and Serena left for Ostia again, to trace the ribbons downstream and learn where the seed story had gone. They walked gently, carrying small lanterns and map stones. The others went about routine with careful direction, making sure all returned, tasks done.