It was nice standing there with Barbary in front of the stone head speaking like old friends. In fact, I’d begun to imagine that I’d known Barbary for a long time—or had known him in a different life or would know him—but as soon as I started pondering how or when we might know each other, my headache returned and I wanted more than anything to rest, to stop moving, to go home to where my loved ones awaited and dinner was almost ready, to enter that world as completely as I could, to dig my feet down into some cool soil and guzzle water from a cool stream. As I felt these things, a strange tingling began in my arms and legs, as if I had rested too long in one place and my limbs and fallen asleep, the pins and needles of awakening. I held up my palms and wiggled my fingers. A new light seemed to come from my skin and tiny particles of dust orbited my wrists. I looked up again at the great stone face and saw its jaw loosening and an empty tunnel forming behind its great stone lips. I held up my hands once again and saw the dawn light mingle with my light, with the prism now unleashed from within me, perhaps near my heart, were it was warm.
Oh, Barbary said, look at you.