The second his ash-filled, intense eyes enter my mind, the corridor whooshes under my feet. When it stops, my mouth falls open. The statue it has deposited before me is one of the original three that were here the very first time I discovered the gallery inside my head. It's the wolf statue, and usually it's just a solid, lifeless, icy blue, but today it's glowing—with a color not dissimilar to that of a flame.
