The walls of the buildings that surrounded the agora had been white all my life. But in my dream the walls rioted with color. I was too far away to see the patterns, though the slight geometry to the lines and shapes suggested that the images were made by tiny mosaic tiles.

No gaping holes marked the pavement such as the hole where children had ice-skated during the ice wind. Instead, statues of marble and colored glass towered high: a girl with flowers cascading from her mouth; a man whose eyes changed from blue to lavender with the shift of light. He held aloft a twisting snake carved from green travertine. A leaping fawn bore the face of a human child.

There were too many statues for me to count. Some gleamed with jets of water: half statue, half fountain.

A cry rose from the crowd. Curious, I turned toward the seething knot of people.

Not yet, said a small voice behind me.

I turned.

A little girl stood there, rich black hair flowing past her shoulders, her oval-shaped face somber and quiet, her mouth finely shaped, as though painted by a delicate brush, yet firmly pressed in worry. Her eyes were grass green in the sunlight.

Oh, I thought, My eyes are green.

Which was when I realized who stood before me.

You’re me, I told her. But I don’t understand. This is a dream of what is new. You are old.

She shook her head. You are old, she said. I am a child.

No, I mean … you have already happened.

She shrugged.

Am I in the past? I asked.

Yes, she said, but something new is about to happen.

I took a step toward the crowd, whose shouts grew louder. I glimpsed a glowing knife.

The black-haired girl caught my hand. You can’t, she said. You can’t let him see you.

Who?

The god.

I nearly told her that there were no gods, but this was a dream, and she was my younger self, so it seemed pointless and even rude to insist on reality.

Her hand tightened around mine. He cannot see you, she said. If he sees you, he will know you. He will take you.

Before I could ask her what she meant, she pulled me behind a statue. Wait, she said, until it is over.

What is? What is happening over there?

Murder.

A scream split the air. I wrenched free of the girl and out of our hiding place.

Many people in the crowd had glowing knives now. Their hands lifted and plunged. Little fires danced off the blades. I could see now, through the roiling mob of people, a creature at the center.

It had a vaguely human shape, but hands all over its naked body. They stretched open in pain. It was the same creature I had dreamed about when I was in the prison with Sid.