The path wound upward to a gentle saddle above crater ridge but hidden beneath green canopy. There they paused. The next map node waited, a stone carved over centuries with crab-carapace lines and spiral shapes. It sat atop a mossy root like a fallen guardian.
Jude gave a long whistle. The wives gathered in a ring.
"We reclaim the guardian," he said. "Offer unity. Offer names again. Invite protection."
He knelt and touched the stone, tracing its lines. Grace set carved bone. Lucy dropped rice grains. Emma laid vine around its base. Natalie tied ribbons on branches overhead.
They spoke in low tones: "Grant us passage. Grant our memory. Grant recognition." Then each wife named another, pledging their memory: "I remember Emma's laugh." "I remember Grace's strength." They linked statements until the ropes bound them as names woven together.
He traced a spiral through the dirt, then another, making their name patterns mirror the carving. A soft hum rose from stone.
