The Colorless Land

Chapter 9: A Journey Under the Mountains

The hidden gate slammed shut behind them, but the people of Rivertown were not left in the dark.

The Colorless had led them into a secret tunnel, barely distinguishable from the surface of the mountain unless its gate was opened. In they had gone, struggling and pushing and resisting as they could; but they were few and weakened, and in the end the Colorless had overpowered them. And now they were here, cut off from home, with no way to go except ahead into the unknown.

At least the way was clearly visible, or they might have despaired. The tunnel was spacious and well-paved like an underground road, wide enough to send an army through at need. Every few steps on each side and above them lanterns shone, their light sickly white, never flickering, unlike that of fire. It was cold in that tunnel. But still colder was the absolute lack of natural colors and shapes.

Nellary gritted her teeth as she walked, her eyes darting around the tunnel, searching in vain for an escape from their trap. "Bastards," she hissed, punching her fist against the smooth white rock. "We're caught! No one will ever find us here!"

Her voice echoed through the passage, distorted and eerily magnified. Maithea flinched and reached for her hand. "Keep it down," she whispered, even though she felt exactly the same as her wife. "They can hear every word in this place."

"Good!" Nellary said, a little louder than before. "Let them know! You pale bastards!" she shouted at the Colorless guards closest to her. "Do you know that I hate you?"

The soldiers ignored her, not even sparing a single glance. Nellary kicked her foot as if wishing to hit a pebble, but there were none here. The ground was perfectly smooth.

Maithea pulled her along, away from the guards. "Don't bother, Nell," she said. "I'm furious too, but this does nothing. Let's keep an eye out for the way," she added in a hushed whisper. "In case we need to remember it on our way home."

Nellary looked like she wanted to say something else, but she set her jaw, swallowed and nodded. "Home," she replied. "Let's hope we get there soon."

On and on the tunnel ran, perfectly straight, never sloping, never turning. There were no side-passages, no chambers, nothing that might lead them away from the Colorless. Behind them their captors drove on. Ahead of them they led the way. On all sides there were guards. There was no escape, nowhere to go except ever ahead.

Time was dead here. None of the villagers knew how long they kept walking, walking, walking through the ever-unchanging tunnel. It was freezing cold. The light of the lamps was too white and too bright, hurting their eyes, casting no shadows but putting every detail into painful relief. Every so often a wisp of fog passed by. Whether through a trick of the lamps or some sorcery of its own, it seemed to glow white.

An eternity seemed to have passed when the Colorless called for a stop at last, and yet the villagers did not seem to have moved at all. The only sign that they hadn't been walking on the spot was that the gate behind them was gone.

That, and the sudden doors that opened up on both side of the passage.

"Give everyone their rations," the commander said. "Then let them recharge for the night. At dawn we move on."

They all collapsed to their knees, too exhausted to think of anything other than food and sleep. Maithea, however, eyed the doors closely, and she knew Nellary was doing the same.

The doors opened, immediately lit by the same lamps as the main passage. Maithea slumped in frustration. They contained not side-passages but pantries and sleeping-halls, once again enough to provide for an army.