On the second sunny day, Sera counted nails instead of bells.
Tio had sorted usable nails from bent ones. His sore finger remained wrapped while she moved straight nails with pincers. They needed them for the chair support to go aboard the day after tomorrow.
The stones rested in sunlight. Yesterday’s clear edges had spread inward, but three days were not complete. Varen turned the supports and recorded cloud interruptions. Sera requested no test lighting.
The chair was not for strapping Hern to someone’s back and running. Outside the narrow side door, it would provide a rest; on site, they must test whether two people could carry it steadily, front and rear. Hern could refuse.
Tio tested Roan’s threshold first. The empty chair passed. With dry sacks added, one leg lifted off the support’s edge. About to announce it was fine, he shut his mouth.
“Needs doing again. A little.”
A little meant one board and half a day. Sera did not erase that time from the departure chart. While wood was repaired, the stones filled their own hours.
Maru’s morning and evening signals still counted five: able to wait. She did not present the statement about six water containers as freshly checked stock each day. She subtracted expected consumption and prepared with Edin to request support if the next boat could not arrive.
On the third sunny day, wind turned north. The storm had passed; thin clouds lingered far away. Only after enough light accumulated through sunset did Varen lift the stones.
Small ripples overlapped in their clear depths. Both had recovered. Sera recorded completion time and drew their condition before use. Joy did not remove earlier failures from the charging chart.
Nume would sail next morning: a short return voyage using the first stone. The other would remain for moving the final residents later. They would not rush out before sunset to recover three days of waiting.
That night, Sera left a large space beside Hern’s name. Difficulty walking could not tell her how someone should sit aboard. Tomorrow she must actually ask.
At the morning pier, the long plank went aboard again with the new chair support, a small water container, and grain. Nume first pointed out that drinking water reduced passenger capacity by one. Unloading supplies would not automatically authorize another passenger.
Sera bent her knee boarding. Days of rest had helped, but high thresholds still required a handhold. The captain secured the final cargo after she sat.
Varen in the lantern room and Edin in the boathouse observed the same black marker. Tio handled boards and timing. The first stone’s light opened; their boat headed for the outer curve.
They could not simply follow the previous voyage. The current’s dark face had widened toward the changed wind. Nume chose a new centre; Sera recorded present width on fresh paper. The captain did not tilt the hull through a narrow gap.
Someone appeared at the high room’s window. On the stone path, Or raised the reflector. She felt glad at his arm’s movement, then checked the count. All five alive. None had waited automatically inside a number.
After checking the landing, she went ashore. The high room’s door stood open; grain porridge scented the air. Two water containers were empty, another nearly so. Consumption was below plan, but that was no reason to make them wait longer.
Miran and Ren received fresh containers from Nume. Asked about remaining water, Or said no lids leaked and seawater had stayed out. The room’s inner floor remained dry; beneath the low door, a wet line had climbed.
Hern shook their head at the chair support.
“If you carry me in that, I’ll look like cargo.”
Sera did not instantly promise comfort. She knew nothing of how it felt to look up at others from that chair. First she asked what troubled Hern.
Where would they sit aboard? And before even crossing the room’s door, would their own stool and walking stick disappear separately? Sera swallowed an argument based on her own injured knee.
Nume showed a low stool aboard. Hern inspected it from the window; Daho went down to check height and backrest. The condition was clear: without a securely fixed seat, Hern would not move.
The support fitted the side doorway. With Hern seated, however, toes caught before the threshold. Both carriers could not pass outside together. Tio’s drawing had omitted that person’s foot length.
Sera corrected the space. They tested Miran lifting at the front to an outside support while Daho waited inside until Hern adjusted their feet. This was no practice descent straight to the boat. Failure still left a short return into the room.
Behind the yard wall, Hern rested a long time, palm on warm stone, looking at the sea. Nume’s boat was close; the last bend of the high path remained hidden.
“You mean all the way down today?”
“No. We must fit the final step and the chair aboard. Then the captain checks remaining time.”
Only then did Hern lean against the chair’s back. Beginning to move did not commit someone to finishing.
Or watched the bell tower. When Sera unfolded the attribution map, his finger found the curve before his name. He did not ask her to fill the fog-hidden section’s blank.
After hearing its scope, he consented. He also checked the separation of headcounts and light intervals from his bell record. The confirmation for Edin gained today’s place and time. One empty square filled beside Or’s name.
“Can you find this way without me now?”
Sera rested her hand on the folded map.
“Not from this record alone. People must observe again at the next time.”
His head lowered slightly. Belatedly she realized how that might sound like an order to remain.
“They needn’t stand here. Two places elsewhere can watch the same boat. Roan’s high lantern room and low boathouse are doing that now.”
Saying so created no new position. They must verify an unobstructed view of the same marker. Still, no reason existed to record Or as an everlasting observation point.
Nume announced time remaining for home. They could not rush Hern’s final step and secured seat today. Miran and Ren reaffirmed their decision to leave first. At Roan, they would prepare a place to receive the next arrivals.
Or, Hern, and Daho would remain. Fresh water and grain were set apart for at least two days for three people. The high room allowed waiting tonight; changed conditions next morning meant changing the plan.
Then Or said he would not take the next boat.
“When those two leave, I must ring. They mustn’t write that this island has nobody again.”
Sera could not answer. Even while recording fifteen returned names, she had needed someone across the water. Trying not to erase him might nail him in place.
Hern spoke first.
“If nobody’s here, nobody’s here. Doesn’t mean the houses vanish.”
Or looked at the tower wall. Hern asked Miran for a small cloth beneath the stool. Inside lay a low room’s key and dry seed packets: things already divided between taking and leaving.
“A house to return to is enough. I don’t want the people who return disappearing.”
Sera did not transcribe it. She needed to look at Or’s face, not paper. Wind alone spoke until he opened his mouth.
“If I’d left in time, nine wouldn’t have been left here.”
She did not declare him blameless. She had not heard every warning and decision. Remaining alone as punishment would not make the old judgment right either.
“You can speak about then after returning. Ring alone here, and the others can’t hear your answer.”
He opened his palm, its edge red from holding the reflector. He gave Daho the next status chart, then took it back. The habit of doing everything until the final night loosened slowly.
Daho held the chart with him. This time he did not resist. Sera did not substitute that little movement for consent. His own words were needed.
“The three of us take the next boat together,” he said at last.
“We leave the bell tower empty. Keep that sentence on the map too.”
She nodded. An empty island observation point could enter the plan beforehand. They would not connect a way by imagining an observer where nobody stood.
Only afterward did Miran and Ren board. They promised Hern no guaranteed rescue next time. They checked the chair, receiving helpers, and equipment to prepare at Roan. Nume placed the plank and let each cross alone.
Or returned with the reflector to the high stone path, finishing today’s work on an island of three. Hern and Daho went back inside the high room. The yard was no place for their night.
Two residents rode home. Sera transferred two of five stones into a small pouch. Seventeen at Roan; three on Maru. She did not board Or in her mind as a fourth passenger.
At the pier, Miran inspected the stool aboard. Could Tio add low support so Hern would not lean sideways? Instead of extending his sore hand, he accepted her drawing. An account from someone who had seen the actual body reached the wood.
Edin read Or’s confirmation and formally accepted the attributed map as validation evidence. General recognition for residents’ observations remained unresolved. Today, this passage retained its contributor’s name.
After use, the first stone clouded again. The second stayed clear in its box. Varen planned to check its fresh condition tomorrow before entrusting it with a short return.
Sera studied Or’s last square on tomorrow’s role chart.
When the boat left Maru, that square must be empty.
Tonight they must confirm two points that could bring three people home while leaving that blank intact.