The Colorless Land

Chapter 29: Trails in the Snow

Jolette was shivering.

The Colorless. The Colorless were heading down the river. Her companions were also following the river. If the boat went faster, they would overtake them. They might spot them. And then...Edmian—

Something needed to be done. Something to slow them, just long enough until Jolette could warn the others to hide.

What would Saryana do? She might do what she had done before and tie up everyone in the boat and threaten them with a sword. But Jolette had neither rope nor sword, nor the strength to take on several full-grown Colorless at once. What would Lisha do? Cast a spell, maybe, but Jolette was no sorceress. Evariel might take his bow and arrows and shoot them before they knew what was happening. Aithal—

She had no idea what Aithal would do. And if she did, she knew she wouldn't be able to do the same.

She only had herself here. And she, Jolette, an ordinary girl from a village, needed to find a way to deal with this. Her own way.

But...they were in the middle of the river. So what could she do?

Throw something, perhaps. But what? No rocks, that was for sure. Everything around here was buried under the—

Snow. The snow.

An image appeared in front of her eyes, almost forgotten during her journey. An image of her childhood, freezing cold winters...and snowball fights.

Snowball fights that, most of the time, she had won, so many times that the boys had refused to play against her anymore. Her snowballs were hard and well-aimed. The boat was still within throwing distance, moving slowly around the rocks and ice floes.

Crouching down, she hid deeper in the snow, formed a ball in her hands, took aim, and threw.

The ball hit hard against a cloaked figure's head. The others turned around. Jolette ducked low and held her breath, hoping they couldn't spot her from where they stood.

Time stood still. There was a long silence.

"It seems," said one of the Colorless voices, "someone is in the snow. Shall we find them?"

"No," said the woman's voice. "Waste no time. It seems to be no serious threat. Ferryman," she added, "go faster."

"I'm tellin' yer," the man replied, "I'm tryin'!"

Jolette swallowed. This was the opposite of what she had wanted. Hastily she formed another snowball, ignoring the freezing pain in her fingers. Once more she threw. Another cloaked figure went down.

"Faster, ferryman," said the woman's voice. "We must outrun this person."

With frantic hands Jolette formed a third snowball, apologized mentally to the poor ferryman, and threw.

The snowball hit its aim. The ferryman lost balance and fell over sideways, dangerously tipping the boat. The ferry drifted on unchecked and drove against a rock with a crunch.

Before anyone could react, Jolette jumped to her feet and ran down the river.

A shout followed her, then more voices. She ran faster. They must have seen her now, she knew. She needed to hurry. She had to reach the others before the Colorless spotted them, or all of this would have been for nothing. She needed to be faster than her followers, a thousand times faster.

There was splashing behind her, but she didn't turn around. She already knew what it meant. The Colorless were crossing the river to come after her. No need to panic. The water was freezing, and they were fully clothed. They would need to put all their strength in trying not to drown.