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... ve 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 tonig ...
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