Joia nodded reluctantly. “You’re right,” she said. “A project this big, this important, can’t begin with a clash between us and the elders. We must have them on our side from the start.”
 
 “That’s what I think.”
 
 “All right. I’ll talk to my mother.”
 
 Walking back to Riverbend, Seft had a fateful sense that this might be the day his life changed. The more he thought about it, the more he longed to rebuild the Monument in stone.
 
 There were many stone circles. One of the biggest was on the far side of the North River, in a village called Pits, where there were many flint mines. But the circle at Pits, like most stone circles, consisted of untrimmed boulders in a rough ring. It was nothing like what the Monument would be if Joia got her way.
 
 She had said firmly that the rebuilding must follow the pattern of the existing timbers. The stones would stand in a perfect circle, equidistant from one another, with an exactly fitting crossbar joining each pair. In the middle would be an oval of detached pairs, each with a crossbar. It would be astonishing and unique.
 
 Building it would probably take the rest of his life, Seft realized with a doomy feeling. But then his stone Monument would last forever.
 
 He nodded to himself as he reached his home, thinking: That would really be something.
 
 Keff opened the meeting. “The grass is green, the streams are running again, and the cows are calving. Let’s pray to the Earth God to continue this weather, and never again afflict us with drought.”
 
 Everyone agreed with that.
 
 “But the demise of our Midsummer Rite is very bad for us. I was hoping to trade for some young bulls from the north, to bring new blood into the herd. But no bulls were brought. And we’re hearing that the farmer feast was well attended.”
 
 Ani said: “That’s what I hear. And I agree with Keff that this is a disaster for us. Our four Rites every year have always been of great benefit to us. We’ve been able to trade things we have plenty of, like beef and leather, for what we lack, such as flints and pottery. We’ve constantly improved our herd by mating our cows with bulls from elsewhere. And in the same way, at the revel, we’ve strengthened the blood of our own folk.” She looked around. “It would be very bad for us if we let these events diminish.”
 
 Jara said: “Let’s be realistic. We may simply have to endure a period of hardship. Eventually people will realize that the woodlander attack is not going to be repeated, and they will forget it and come back to us.”
 
 Ani said: “Or they may continue to go to the farmer feast because by then they will be used to it. People like whatever is familiar.”
 
 Scagga said: “Perhaps we could get some woodlanders to attack the farmer feast.”
 
 It was a stupid idea and no one responded.
 
 Keff said: “Well, Jara’s idea, to simply wait and hope, seems to be the only option.”
 
 Ani said: “I have a better solution.”
 
 “Good!” said Kae.
 
 Scagga rolled up his eyes.
 
 Keff said: “Let’s hear it.”
 
 Here goes, Ani thought. “We need to make a spectacular gesture to attract people back and show them that we are still the leaders of the Great Plain.”
 
 “A gesture,” Scagga said scornfully.
 
 Keff said: “What gesture do you have in mind, Ani?”
 
 “We must rebuild the Monument—in stone.”
 
 They were all silent, surprised. Then Keff said: “That would take years.”
 
 “I suppose so. But right from the start it will be something new and surprising that people will want to look at.”
 
 Scagga said: “There aren’t enough stones on the Great Plain!”
 
 “Have you counted them?” Ani said sarcastically.
 
 Jara said: “Wherever the stones may be found, they will have to be dragged to the Monument. That will take people away from their normal work.”