Rimwick

The Color Hunt

I actually sleep well on the straw mattress, and though slightly itchy, I'm warm beneath the wool blanket and snug cocoon of the underground school. It's dark when I wake up, of course- there aren't any windows- and the lamps swinging by the door are lit.

There's a low rustling sound and I lift my head up. Anvil is stretched out on Fallon's bed, gently tickling his sister's face with a string.

"Fal! Fallon! Get up!" His voice is a low hiss in the dim room, his red hair a bright flame. "Meat and hunting and dead bodies, Fal, come on!"

Fallon moans and pushes him off the bed. "Five more minutes."

Anvil notices me. "Hi, Riley. Fallon, come on, it's dark."

"It is NOT."

I swing my legs over the side of my bunk. The room is chilly, but not freezing. I'm not really sure what to do- I slept in my clothes, and even if I hadn't Anvil's still here, poking Fallon's cheek as she swats at him.

"Faaaaaallon. It's night."

Anvil grins on the word night, and the orange lanterns highlight his face in eerie shadows. With a chill, I remember where I am, and who's with me.

Fallon yawns, sits up, and stretches. Her skin is bathed in a blue, halo-like glow. She looks smooth and fluid, like she was fashioned from a glowing liquid metal, and her movements are performed with the graceful ease of a cat. From the hammock, Echo stirs. Her eyes are bright with the same blue that shines across Fallon's skin, and her dark hair seems longer than it did earlier. She glances at Anvil and smiles at him, them points to the door. Wordlessly, he exits.

I sit on the edge of my bed, still unsure of what to do. Fallon is gathering items- a quiver, a hunting horn, a knife. She straps them around herself with leather cords. Echo slips out of her flannel nightgown and puts on jeans and a long-sleeved navy blue and white striped t-shirt. The contrast between the two of them- Fallon's warrior style versus Echo's simple outfit- is striking.

"Master Atlas is waiting!" someone calls from outside the room. With a grunt, Fallon hefts her quiver onto her shoulder. Echo beckons to me and we tiptoe down the hall.

The smokily ethereal figure of Brooke hovers in a corner of the main room. Anvil is there too, slicing bread, and Bradley- who is actually called Felix- is sitting on a low stool as he polishes a knife.

"You want any bread, Riley?" Anvil asks.

"Oh, um, yes please." No one says anything about the words I speak, how they tip out of my mouth and illuminate the air. The atmosphere here is so different from the easy chatter of yesterday morning.

"Let's move," Felix says. I stuff my bread into my mouth and pull on my boots and jacket, even though no one else wears shoes or a coat, and follow the Dusk Children out into the snowy night. Felix comes last, locking the door behind him.

"Where are we going?" I ask. Everyone else has disappeared into the trees. They move as swiftly and silently as the night itself.

"A clearing south of here, closer to Rimwick. Come on."

The night is cold, but as we walk, I feel energized. I love being outside at night, with the moon filtering through the treetops, and I love the sting of frigid air across my face. The woods smell like cedar and pine and the cold. I hadn't realized it before, that coldness has it's own distinct aroma.

"One thing I pity the people of Rimwick for," Felix says, "is that they never get to go outside at night."

"It's amazing," I agree. I stare up at the purple sky and all the stars scattered above us, then promptly trip on a rock and face plant into the snow.