We sit out the cold squall inside the partly hollow trunk of a giant kapok tree. I stick my head out when the wind is howling its hardest and the rain is coming down in icy sheets, and see a bolt of lightning flash down and strike a direct hit on the giant idol.

The massive stone face glows red, as if drinking energy and heat from the blast. Its lifeless features seem to move and twitch as the red glow animates its deeply set eyes and flows over its angular nose to the base of the torso, where it covers Kidah like a fiery blanket.

As quickly as it came, the freak storm passes. The sky lightens, and rays of sunshine filter down. Birds circle down from the heights, and a cheerful rainbow appears in a sky that had just been as dark as death.

We leave the shelter of the kapok tree and walk back toward the stone idol. A thin coating of frost from the cold snap clings to the ferns and the wildflowers.

Kidah is no longer writhing and moaning. He is lying still, and from a short distance away I am positive that he’s dead. “He froze to death in that storm,” I tell Eko.

“No,” she says, “he’s breathing. He’s just asleep.”

We gather around the slumbering wizard, and for a few seconds the six of us just watch him. There’s a faint smile on his dry old lips, and he looks very much at peace. “We didn’t come here to watch him snore,” I finally tell Eko. “He’s your friend. Wake him up.”

“He’s not my friend,” she says nervously. “I’ve never met him before. He’s … reclusive and legendary, the most famous man of my time. You are the beacon of hope. You should wake him up.”

I start to reach down and then hesitate. “He looks like he’s enjoying this sleep. What if he doesn’t take kindly to being woken up, and turns me into a frog? No, I think you should do it, Eko.”

“Don’t be silly,” she says. “He won’t turn you into a frog. He’s not that kind of wizard. His magic is the gentle sorcery of wisdom and truth.”

“Maybe so, but I still don’t want to wake him up,” I tell her. “This is your mission and your wizard. Now stop being such a chicken and start behaving like a Priestess of Dann.”

The shaman suddenly pushes forward and bends to Kidah. He gives the wizard a good hard shake, as if from one old medicine man to another.

Kidah’s eyes snap open. For a moment he has no pupils or irises. Just empty holes. And inside those holes we see clouds swirling.

The shaman pulls back with a frightened gasp. He leads the warriors and the old woman several steps away, and they peer out from behind the stone idol.