“It is permitted.” The colors died from Ambalasi’s crest as she accepted what was only her due. “Look closely and learn. The strength, the width, the temperature of these currents, these rivers in the sea, are noted on the charts for those with the capacity to understand them. Whose number of course includes me. I will not go into details, you would not understand them, but will give you my conclusions instead. Here is no small island or string of islands, but a great land mass whose size we will discover when we reach it. It lies to the south of Alpèasak which means that it will be gloriously warmer. Do you know the name of this new land, Enge?”

“I do,” she answered firmly.

“Then tell us all,” Ambalasi said with uncontrollable movements of pleasure.

“It is named Ambalasokei so that in tomorrow’s tomorrow, as long as Yilanè speak one to another, they will speak the name of she who brought life to this distant and unknown place.”

“Well composed,” Ambalasi acknowledged and Elem signalled agreement with modifiers of enlargement. “Now I will rest and conserve my energy. You will of course need my guidance so do not hesitate to waken me then even though it troubles you to do so.”

Word of what was happening spread quickly and there was great excitement. The Daughters of Life pressed Enge to reveal the significance of Ambalasi’s disclosures and she did, standing in the shaft of light that fell from the open fin so all could hear.

“Ugunenapsa, our teacher, told us that the weakest is the strongest, the strongest the weakest. By this parable she meant to instruct us in the oneness of life, to make the point that the life of a still-ocean-wet fargi was as important to that fargi as the life of an eistaa would be to the eistaa. Ugunenapsa spoke this long ago, but the eternal truth of it has been driven home to us again today. Ambalasi, even though she is not yet a Daughter of Life, has profited from Ugunenapsa’s teaching so much so that she has led us from captivity and is leading us now to a new world where we will grow a city—that will be our city. Be humble before the wonder of that thought. A city without persecution for beliefs. A city without death. A city where we can grow together and learn together—and welcome fargi to grow and learn with us. I have said, with gratitude and without a moment’s hesitation, that this new land where we will grow this city will be called Ambalasokei.”

A wave of emotion swept her listeners, a wave of agreement that rippled their bodies in unison as a field of grass is moved by the wind. They were of a single mind.