Jude stood, slowly, his wives rising beside him, the bond between them unbroken, strengthened by every touch, every moan, every merging. "Who are you?"
"I am the echo of the first spiral," the being said. "The one who circled alone, until another dared to spiral with them."
Emma stepped forward. "We've joined. We've accepted. We've changed."
The being tilted its head, curious. "Have you, truly?"
A silence followed.
Then Grace whispered, "We don't want to go back."
"There is no back," it said. "Only forward. But forward has many directions. You must choose."
The moss beneath their feet shifted again, and the circle of the clearing stretched outward until they stood upon a map - a glowing, living map of the island, the stars above it, and something beyond.
Jude saw it.
The spiral wasn't just on the island.
It was etched in the stars. In the shape of rivers. In the way Lucy's hair curled against her back, or the rhythm of Scarlet's laugh.
It was in them.
