the enemy of my enemy could very possibly be another enemy.
There wasn’t anything suspicious about his bare feet walking the path, or the flash of his pink heels, though that was the most color about him. He seemed sapped of color, his skin almost gray. The roots of his hair were a deeper brown than the pale tips.
As we walked through the forest the trees seemed to dim. The colors shifting paler, leaves turning almost gray. Dwellings strung between branches, like treehouses high above the ground connected by rope bridges.
As we climbed closer to the spring, clerics began to emerge from their treehouses, and every one of them was unnaturally colorless, their clothing and skin shades of gray like a black-and-white photo.
I stared at a cleric praying from the top of a tree. “When did we step into Kansas?”
It wasn’t just the clerics, even the trees had barely a trace of color. I clicked my heels. There’s no place like home, there’s no place like home.
The cleric gestured. “The Seer Spring steals our color.”
I stepped lightly. I was pale enough already.
At a certain point along the trail, the houses stopped. A river babbled in the distance. A stark white insect crawled across the pale ground.
I didn’t like this. The cleric stopped me at a line of pebbles across the path. The line of rocks continued into the forest, black and white on one side, soft brown and green on the other. Beyond the line of rocks, the slender trees were in grayscale, each leaf glistening and white.
“You must remove your shoes,” he instructed. “This place is hallowed.”
I nodded. The path to the Devout took many a hallowed detour.
I pried off my shoes and stepped over the rock line into the black-and-white woods. The ground on the other side of the marking was several degrees hotter. It burned my bare feet. I yelped and startled a bright red bird perched on a pale branch.
“Sorry. I didn’t expect the ground…” They didn’t need an explanation. “Never mind.”
By the time we reached the spring, or at least the cliff across from it, my calves burned from the climb. Only the cleric’s breaths were even. The ground broke free around us, sharp drops that hid their edges behind stark bushes and thin trees.
We clumped tight along the path, mindful of a misstep.
Beyond the canyon, a massive stone statue cried waterfalls from each carved eye. I stopped as my jaw dropped. The spring was a she. And she was breathtaking, a massive statue etched into the cliff face. Like Mount Rushmore, but female.
Bluebird would have loved this.
I moved toward the edge. Rickety wood and rope bridges crossed from cliff side to cliff side, the ropes bleached pale and frayed by time. Eight different bridges stretched higher and closer to her eyes, and if I had the time I could have climbed them. Clerics crossed the bridges, holding cups that drained of color as they filled.
At the end of the path I followed, a massive stone hand jutted off from the edge of the cliff. Seer water filled the base of the palm, maybe three meters across. A hawk circled directly above it.
Goose bumps shot up my skin. “Incredible.”
Seer water seeped between my toes as I walked onto the upturned hand, leaned over the edge, and peered down. The carved hand was like a perfect diving board. Across from me the waterfall cascaded dozens of meters down to a clear sparkling pool where bone-white fish swam in perfect circles.
“Careful,” the cleric warned. I stepped back.
He pointed to a cleric on the lowest bridge. “That cleric needs a key to unlock the gate that protects the only beach. One of the clerics on the bridges will have it, though I do not know which one. Perhaps if you assist them with their duties, they will give you a prize for your efforts. But beware, the farther down we collect the seer water, the clearer the sight. The clerics may speak prophecies, or they may speak riddles that will aid you on your journey.”
The air smelled of fog, deep and murky.
There wasn’t time for riddles. I glanced up to the damaged sky. Squares of light blurred, like they’d dissolved. One disappeared as I watched.
A Savak Wingship took off from the tallest spire of their castle. The soundtrack drummed heavy and menacing.
Word must have spread to the Savak queen that a player was here. They were coming for me.
The cleric lost his smile. They were coming for him too,