The inner rows took two days.
Not because the method didn't work—it did—but because it had to be done carefully. The plants in the center were packed more tightly together, and too much of the fruit juice could harm the crops themselves. Samuel worked slowly. Jorcx worked beside him, showing him where he could be more generous and where he had to be careful.
Morra organized some of the others into watches. They stood at the edges of the fields, observing, calling out if fresh swarms approached from outside. Keth continued hunting rabbits. Barak and Brox reinforced the makeshift fences.
Dravan helped in the fields.
Actually helped this time—not just watched.
He carried the juice, held the bellows whenever Samuel needed both hands free, pointed out patches Samuel had overlooked. He worked quietly and without complaint, which for Dravan was a remarkable achievement.
By the end of the second day, Samuel and Jorcx stood at the edge of the field and looked across it.
The damage was still there. Some plants had suffered and would show it. But the insects no longer moved—not in the outer rows, not in the inner ones. The crystals still stood in the soil, casting their silent resonance across the fields.
Jorcx crouched and scooped up a handful of earth.
He let it run through his fingers, looked at the nearest plant, touched one of its leaves.
Then he stood.
"Most of them will survive."
Samuel looked over the rows.
"The harvest?"
"Less than we expected. But enough."
There was no relief in his voice.
Only fact.
But Samuel knew Jorcx well enough by now to understand what it meant when he said enough.
It meant it was good.
The crystals were returned that evening.
Durrak placed them in the bowl at the center of the settlement, and everyone reclaimed their own. Setha fastened her dark-blue crystal back around her wrist. Harra slipped hers into a pocket. Barak took his without looking at it.
Kessa stepped forward, lifted her crystal from the bowl, and turned it slowly between her fingers.
Then she looked toward Samuel.
"It helped."
Samuel wasn't sure whether she meant the crystal or him.
Maybe both.
Three days after the infestation ended, Urag returned.
Samuel was working in the fields when he saw him—a rider on the horizon, distant but unmistakable. The silhouette. The posture in the saddle.
He said nothing.
He kept working.
Dravan saw him too.
"Urag."
He said it quietly, not excitedly. More like someone seeing a prediction confirmed.
Then he didn't run to meet him.
He simply stood and watched.
The settlement greeted Urag's return with the same calm it had shown at his departure.
He rode in, dismounted, and handed the horse to Bercx, who was already waiting. Durrak stepped forward, and the two embraced briefly—not long, not dramatically. The sort of embrace shared between people who knew each other well enough that words could come afterward.
Urag looked around.
His gaze moved across the settlement—the shelters, the wagons, the firepit.
Then to the fields.
He stopped.
From where he stood, Samuel could see him studying the outer rows. The signs of damage were still visible if you knew where to look. The crystals were gone, but the small marks where they had stood remained.
Urag turned to Durrak.
Durrak explained.
Samuel couldn't hear the conversation, but he could watch it. Durrak spoke. Urag listened. His eyes shifted several times toward the fields and then toward Samuel. Durrak continued. Urag nodded once. Then again.
After that, Urag walked out into the fields.
He moved slowly along the outer rows, crouched beside a plant whose leaves still bore scars from the infestation, stood again, studied the places where the crystals had stood.
Jorcx joined him, and the two exchanged a few quiet words.
Then Urag approached Samuel.
Samuel stopped working and looked at him.
Urag examined the field.
Then Samuel.
Then the field again.
"Durrak explained what happened."
"Yes."
"The solution was yours."
It wasn't a question.
"Sarva and Vorzak had the knowledge. I just put it together."
Urag looked at him briefly.
"That's the same thing."
He fell silent for a moment. His gaze swept over the fields again.
"Well done."
Then he turned and walked back toward the settlement.
Samuel stood watching him go.
Twice now.
Morra and Urag.
Both said the same thing.
He let the thought settle where it was and picked up his spade again.
The evening of Urag's return felt fuller than usual.
More conversation.
More movement.
A lighter mood that came not only from the defeated infestation, but from the things Urag had brought back with him.
Not much.
A few things the settlement needed and that he had managed to acquire along the way.
New tools.
Seed stock that was difficult to obtain in the region.
A small supply of salt.
He distributed everything without ceremony.
Later that evening, Urag sat by the fire.
That was unusual.
He rarely sat simply to sit.
Samuel settled into his usual place and waited.
Gustov joined them a short while later.
For a time, the three sat in silence.
Then Urag spoke—not directly to Samuel, more to the circle itself.
"The registration went through."
Gustov nodded.
"Taxes?"
"Yes. More than fair."
He said it matter-of-factly.
No bitterness.
No anger.
Just the statement of someone who had expected exactly that and gone anyway because it needed to be done.
Samuel looked at him.
"Did they ask questions? About the settlement?"
Urag glanced toward him.
"About its composition. How many people. What we grow."
"And?"
"I answered."
He drank from his cup.
Samuel waited to see whether there was more.
"They asked about outsiders."
The silence that followed was brief, but noticeable.
"What did you tell them?"
"That we employ a human field worker."
Urag's tone never changed.
"That isn't a lie."
Samuel stared into the fire.
Field worker.
Officially, that's what I am here.
He thought about how different it sounded from what it felt like.
Then he thought about the wording Urag had chosen—something that protected him without hiding anything that didn't need hiding.
That had not been accidental.
"Thank you."
Urag took another drink.
He didn't answer.
Across from them, Gustov smiled faintly into his herbal brew.
The fire crackled softly.
Dravan wandered past once more, noticed Urag sitting there, and gave him a nod—not like greeting a stranger, not with any particular ceremony. Just the acknowledgment given to someone who had come home.
Then he disappeared again.
Urag watched him go for a moment.
Then returned his gaze to the flames.
"The fields recovering?"
"Yes," Samuel said.
"By harvest they should be fine."
Urag nodded.
No further questions.
No judgment.
Just the nod of someone who had been given information he needed and found it satisfactory.
Samuel leaned back and looked up at the sky.
Far above, a lone cloud drifted slowly across the stars.
The settlement was quiet.
And whole.