Darien bowed to them all, courteously, one by one, and they stood there above the trees, waiting again. Darien stood alone in the center of the grove, for Apple and I were away toward the edge of the trees. He lowered his head for a moment. Then he touched one hand to his pebble. He reached out his hands, palm down, then palm up. There was a hushed expectancy, although the music neither stopped nor slowed, and then there was the light, limning everything with clarity that was neither sunlight nor moonlight, making everything seem larger, more distinct and more clearly itself. Everything glowed with benevolent light, and the music which had been all the parts of the island became one song, praising the light, the God made Man whose sacrifice had enabled all beings to become more truly themselves. Everything was love and warmth and safety, everything was in its place and growing there. The song was an affirmation rising from the heart and filling the soul. For a moment I felt it, as Darien raised his arms.
