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  I’m used to unpleasant awakenings, but that doesn’t mean I’ve come to like them. I woke up to a foot prodding between my shoulder blades and a voice saying loudly, “Rise and shine, mortal!”

  My instinctive reaction was to grab the foot and shove its owner off-balance. It wasn’t until his face slapped into the dirt next to me that I realized I had just attacked the god of Red, who only a few hours ago had burned down an entire town for fun. I bolted upright and covered my mouth. “Oh karā, I’m so sorry! Are you okay?”

  He pushed himself up and spat out dirt. I braced myself to be fried right then and there on a divine skillet, but instead, he hopped up and gave me a cockeyed grin. “Not bad.” He offered me a hand and pulled me to my feet. “What's your name again?”

  “Uh... Manda. Manda Colstryker.”

  “Manda. Okay. Don’t do that again.” He turned and hiked out of the hole, passing Cobalt on the way. “Amazing, you did something right, Blue!”

  Cobalt sighed. “Let's just get to Vanberg.”

  Stiff from sleeping on the ground, I followed them out of the hollow and was shocked to step into a world of color. I froze. The sky was bright and blue with white clouds drifting across, the sun was warm and shining, and everywhere I looked was green. The grass had come back, the trees had fresh, new leaves again, and along the riverbed were sprigs of white, yellow, and pink wildflowers. A stream was gurgling through the riverbed, making wavy silver reflections against the overhang of the bank. The air was fresh and new, and it smelled like spring. No more dust, no more dry wind, no more drab gray horizon.

  I dove to my knees next to the stream and scrubbed off my arms and face. Muddy wisps ran away through the water. In the life of a homeless nomad, there are many moments when you finally have access to something fresh and clean and are startled by your own self-inflicted deprivation. I hadn’t really bathed for weeks, and the water felt wonderful. I finally just stuck my whole head underwater, digging my fingers through my hair and letting the water rush through it. When I came up and found my way out of my dripping hair, I was soaked from the shoulders up.

  Rhed stood several feet away, watching me impatiently. “You done?”

  “Give her a minute,” Cobalt said.

  “It’s fine, I’m good.” I stood and flipped my hair back over my shoulders, and Rhed flinched as some of the droplets flung into the grass near him.

  Rhed and Cobalt hopped up and out of the riverbed with inhuman ease, and I clambered out after. The countryside stretched out in glorious rise and fall of green fields, wildflowers and weeds mingled with freshly sprouted cornstalks, and everything glittering with dew. I’d never been one to get emotional about scenery, but after months of nothing but dirt and dead brown brush, I could have been persuaded to write poetry about the virtues of sunshine and grass.

  Rhed picked his way across the fields like he was afraid of being stung by the damp grass, but compensated for that by tromping ahead when we reached the road. Fortunately, he was walking in the right direction. The sun was warm and the air was just the right kind of breezy, so I shrugged off my coat and bundled it under my arm, working my fingers through my hair as we went. Even when I had access to regular hygienic supplies, brushing it only made the top layers fuzzy, so the best I could do was finger-comb through the worst snarls. Today there were a couple dozen tumbleweed tangles to untangle. Maybe if I kept hunting I’d find some spare change in there.

  “Your hair is beautiful,” Cobalt said.

  I raised an eyebrow at him over my shoulder, and he waved a dismissive hand. “I don’t mean to imply anything,” he said. “It’s a statement of fact. I dabbled with painting in my last life, and your hair would be an excellent study.”

  “Thanks, I guess.” I was kind of fond of my hair, even if it was unwieldy. It was a lot like my mother’s hair, though hers had been blonder and evenly wavy, like a damsel in old fairytale stories. I remembered running my fingers through it when I was little, thinking how it looked like spun gold when the sunlight shone through it.

  Thinking about my mother made me sad, though. Enough of that. There were plenty of other things to think about right now.

  In the distance, we could see farmers and their families crossing the fields in small groups, returning to their charred village. I noticed Rhed following them with his eyes, and his pace slowed so much that Cobalt and I passed him. He happened to make eye contact with Cobalt, who gave him a pointed look, and Rhed made a sour face at him. But, when he looked away, I think he seemed at least a little sorry. Maybe there was hope for the boy after all, if someone could kick some impulse control into him.

  In the daylight, I realized I hadn't gotten a good look at Rhed’s features before. His hair was a deep coppery red, too thick to ever be completely combed down, and without firelight demonizing his face, he was moderately handsome in a thuggish, rascally sort of way. The sleeves were torn off of his red shirt —maybe a self-modification?— and his heavy-duty trousers and steel-toed boots were tinted shades of russet. High on his arm was a leather band with an animal’s fang stitched to it, and a small garnet glittered from its setting in the fang. My treasure hunter instincts itched to snag it and take a closer look at it, but I had a healthy enough respect for his fire to dismiss the idea.

  We had been walking for about an hour when Rhed stopped suddenly and put a hand on his stomach. Cobalt paused. “What is it?”

  Rhed looked up at him in shock. “There's something rolling around inside me!”

  “You're hungry.”

  Rhed's face twisted up in confusion, but then released. “Oh, yeah, I forgot about that.” He smacked himself on the head. “How could I forget about that? I need food. We need food!” he amended. “Manda, right? Give us food.”

  “What am I, your mom?” I said.

  “Well, where else are we supposed to get it?” Rhed groused.

  I rolled my eyes. “We're a couple hours from a trading post. Keep walking. We'll get there eventually.”

  Rhed plopped down in the dirt and groaned. “Isn't there any way to get there faster?”

  “Unless you can travel on hot winds anymore, there isn't,” Cobalt said, folding his arms.

  Rhed glared at him. “I already tried that. I'm not stupid.”

  “Then get up off the ground and keep walking.”

  He pursed his lips at Cobalt, but stood up. “Running would be faster.”

  “We aren't all gods,” I said, “I can't run for an hour. I can run for maybe ten minutes, max.”

  Cobalt raised a finger. “One of us could carry her.”

  Rhed snorted. “That's your genius plan? Carry her all the way there?”

  “What’s so dumb about that?” Cobalt retorted. “Do you have a better idea?”

  “We could leave her here.”

  “Hey!” I put my hands on my hips.

  “We can't do that,” Cobalt said.

  “Why not? We can figure out how to get to Vanberg!”

  I waved. “Hello? Standing here listening?”

  “It’ll be faster if she shows us the way.”

  “Fine, you carry her.”

  “You're stronger.”

  “Ha!” Rhed jabbed a finger at Cobalt. “So you admit that I’m better than you!”

  “No, I mean you're stronger physically!”

  “You can’t even summon water anymore! How could you be stronger than me?”

  “This is getting us nowhere, Rhed.”

  “Well, what do you think—”

  “HEY!”

  They turned and looked at me.

  “We could rent a cart,” I said. “There should be a trading post up the road a ways. I passed it yesterday.”

  “Good idea,” Cobalt said. “Do you have any money?”

  “What? You can't just conjure some out of nowhere?” I said.

  They stared at me with blank faces.

  “I have a little. I don't know if it'll be enough, and we still need to get some food.”

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  Rhed cracked his knuckles. “No problem. We're gods. They'll just give us some.”

  I laughed. “Hate to break it to you, but I don't think that'll work. Not too many people actually worship the gods anymore. You'd just be a monochromatic kid asking for handouts.”

  “A mono-who?”

  Cobalt silenced us. “Let's just keep walking. We'll figure something out.”

  The rest of the walk was uneventful, but plentifully filled with random grunts and grumblings from Rhed. When Veza, the trading post, came into view, Rhed took off sprinting for it. Cobalt shook his head and kept walking with me until we came into town.

  Really all there was to Veza was a large open-air shelter where the local farmers swapped goods and consolidated shipments to Vanberg. I would have expected it to be practically deserted, given the recent famine, but that morning it was packed with herds of surprisingly fat livestock. The clamor of haggling men, lowing cows, screeching geese, and sheep bleating incessantly was enough to deafen anyone. I guess that's why the first man we asked about a 'cart we could use' thought we wanted to tell him about the 'hearts he refused'. Rhed seemed to think that yelling our request for transportation louder and louder would solve the issue. Instead he received a scolding for disrespecting his elders. Cobalt and I hastily steered him to another merchant, hopefully one with better hearing.

  It quickly became apparent that no one had a cart they were willing to sell us, much less an animal to pull it. I conveyed this to the godlings, but Rhed simply refused to go at a walking pace the whole way, so he plunged back into the crowd. Cobalt chased after him, and I was left by myself next to some cages of poultry.

  I crouched down and peered into the cages at rows of glossy-feathered hens and fat geese. The magic that had greened the landscape must have transformed the animals back to a healthy state, too. How long would it last, though? Were they really full of good meat, or did abracadabra chicken taste gamey? That might be a worthwhile course of study.

  One of the farmers nearby scribbled an order of cattle into a little notebook, then slapped it and a pencil stub down on a crate to holler at someone across the way. Leaning my elbow against a neighboring crate, I reached over and snagged the notebook and pencil from behind his back, tucking them into my pocket. I strolled back over to the chickens before taking them out and flipping to a fresh page.

  Let’s see. What had I observed about the gods so far? The ground had shattered around the village, but I hadn’t seen any magic-rainbow-fire cracks on the road, or here around Veza. ‘Multihued fire broke thru ground, centered on rebirth site,’ I jotted down. ‘Color gods released too early? Made them young & left rebirth site too soon. Could be scattered everywhere. Next day(?) all plants were back, water was back, animals look healthy. Chickens are now magic?’

  Preoccupied with my mystic poultry ruminations, I didn’t notice at first when someone spoke to me. I did catch sight of him walking sadly away in the corner of my eye, and then my brain's gears notched back into place. I looked up and said, “Wait, sorry, what did you say?”

  The boy turned up sad gray eyes toward me. Come to think of it, everything about him was dull and gray. Smoky gray hair hung over his forehead, his gray clothes were baggy and limp on his twiggy frame, and his eyes were made huge by enormous circular glasses. “I said, why are you with my kind?” he murmured.

  “Your... kind?” I glanced back at the turkeys.

  “No. Them.” He pointed into the crowd, where Cobalt had stolen a tarp, swaddled Rhed like a dough wrap, and tossed him over his shoulder to haul him away from the farmers. Rhed was busy yelling at someone behind Cobalt's head.

  Cobalt's eyes widened when he saw us and hastened over. “Gray!”

  Rhed craned his neck. “Who? Gray?”

  “Yes.” Cobalt flipped him back over onto the ground, then took a second to flick his hair out of his eye. Rhed kicked his way out of the tarp and jumped to his feet.

  The boy I had just met, Gray, raised his gaze to them both with all the energy of a moss-covered rock. “It's Glume, now,” he said.

  “We're Cobalt and Rhed.” Cobalt extended a hand toward him as if to make an introductory shake. Glume gazed at his hand for a long pause, and just as Cobalt was about to retract it, he slowly reached forward and gave Cobalt the most dangle-wristed, limp-fish handshake I’ve ever seen.

  “Who is this?” Glume asked, swiveling his magnifying glass spectacles to me.

  “Our guide. We're going to Vanberg to find the others.” Cobalt withdrew his hand, holding it stiffly at his side like he was planning to wash it.

  “You should come with us, so we don't have to track you down again,” Rhed said.

  Glume drifted back a step. “It's fine. I can come whenever.”

  “You can still jump through water?” Cobalt asked, his face brightening.

  Glume mournfully nodded.

  “Can you transport us to Vanberg?”

  “I suppose,” Glume sighed. Rhed pumped his fist, and Glume peered around at the ground, spotted a puddle, and moved to stand over it. “Take hands.”

  Rhed and Cobalt edged away from each other. I shook my head and stood between them, taking one hand of both. Rhed's hand was warmer and bigger, but he squeezed a little too tight. Cobalt's hand was steadier, cooler, and didn't dwarf my own.

  Glume took Rhed and Cobalt's free hands and let his head sink down to his chest. The puddle rippled near our toes, as though a raindrop had fallen in it, and the reflection of a bright blue sky spread across it. I blinked, and suddenly we were no longer standing in Veza.

  The geese honking and the stink of cows had been replaced with fresh, salty air and seagulls crying overhead. A light breeze ruffled my hair, carrying the odor of fish and the grease of unbathed men. Ships' masts rose like a forest behind us, and the island-city of Vanberg climbed up a great hill before us. Bright sunshine made all the dockside shops look crisp and lively, and all across the boardwalk, seafarers and errand-runners were rolling barrels, driving carts, coming in and out of smithies and tackle shops, shouting greetings and telling off clumsy pedestrians, sidestepping stray dogs, and leaning against posts to take a quick swig from a flask.

  I looked around, but Glume was gone. Transported elsewhere, I assume. Rhed and Cobalt let go of my hands and rotated on the spot, taking in their surroundings.

  Across the street and to the right was a tavern made of water-stained wood, whose sign labeled it as the Sweaty Pig. Beyond that was the Melted Candle inn, a lamp oil shop, a dried meats shop, and an endless variety of businesses stretching outward on the winding road. I knew this place. Glume had landed us in the Southwestern Port, where most freelance merchant ships landed and did business. Sometimes you’d even run into a pirate or three. It wasn’t the safest part of town at night, but during the day, the bustle never failed to raise my spirits. Though if I recalled the word-of-mouth news correctly, this whole port should be underwater due to a freak earthquake. This Color god world-fixing magic was potent.

  “This is busier than I remember,” Cobalt commented, blinking around him.

  Rhed squared himself toward the dried meat shop. “There we go.”

  “I am not buying horse jerky today,” I said. “You want food, follow me.”

  I set off along the boardwalk, and Cobalt fell into step beside me. “Is there a decent restaurant nearby? I imagine we’ll have to go further into the city.”

  “Nope, just three blocks.”

  “Really?” He seemed impressed, then doubtful. “Are you sure we have the same definition of ‘decent restaurant’?”

  “Well, it won’t be expensive.”

  “I still say we shouldn’t have to pay!” Rhed tromped along behind us.

  “Okay, Rhed, maybe I’m wrong,” I said. “Why don’t you try asking nicely for free food when we get there?”

  “Oh, I won’t be asking.”

  I hid a smile and glanced over to Cobalt. This should be interesting.

  Smack-dab in the middle of the gritty, manly shops of Vanberg’s Southwestern Port was a little spot called Marion's Bakery, a quaint little shop with flowerboxes in the windows and patio chairs with curly-cued armrests. Marion herself was an apple-cheeked old woman with a clean white apron, a bubbly disposition, and the knowledge in her head to concoct the most delectable pastries known to mankind. She treated each customer like a grandchild (some as naughty grandchildren) and somehow managed to remember every person's name who came through.

  Passing under the twirly-script sign, I pushed open the door, and the bell tinkled to announce our arrival. A handful of scruff-bearded men sitting at the tables looked up. I definitely spotted a pirate-looking fellow with only two fingers still managing to eat a sugar-topped muffin, though he was dropping a lot of crumbs onto the flower-edged tablecloth.

  When I walked up to the counter between Rhed and Cobalt, Marion DeWhite set aside the bread she was kneading and gave me a cheery smile, making her cheeks plump up under her crisp blue eyes. “Manda! Dear, how’ve you been? Oh, it’s been ages!” She squeezed my hand in her own, her skin old-lady soft and coated in flour, and then drew a line from my head to hers. “Look how tall you’ve grown! You’re almost all grown up! How’s the treasure hunting going?”

  I shrugged. “Eh, not bad. Could be better, could be worse.”

  “Well, that’s fine. I do like to see a girl making her way in the world. And who are these two young gentlemen?”

  “Friends of mine. I'm showing them around,” I said.

  She smiled at them. “And what might be the names of these handsome young men?”

  Cobalt turned a shade red, which I found ironic. Rhed was unfazed and seemed to take the compliment as his due. “I am Rhed, the god of Red,” he stated, thumping his hand onto the counter. “I demand your homage to me, and that pie!”

  Marion gave him a doting smile. “Of course, honey cakes. Do you want that with whipped cream or strawberries?”

  Rhed’s mouth fell open, but nothing came out. I coughed to disguise a laugh.

  Cobalt saved us. “We don't have much money... perhaps just a loaf of bread would do.”

  Rhed turned to stare at him, prepared to explode if he didn't get his way. Probably literally.

  “Oh, excuse me, honey,” Marion said, moving down the counter to greet another customer who was giving one of her girls some trouble. The guy was hungrily eyeing a cake on display, leaning against the counter with one elbow and slurring his words. He was obviously drunk, or on some special herb.

  One of Marion's girls came to take her place. “I'm sorry, what can we get for you?”

  “We'd like two loaves of bread,” Cobalt said, “And maybe a...”

  Another baker girl screamed. We looked over, and saw that the man who wanted a cake had drawn a knife and was clambering over the counter, poking the blade at Marion.

  Half of the grizzled customers sprang to their feet, but Rhed was faster, vaulting over the counter and drawing his saber in the same motion. The other girls squealed and scattered out of his way. “Whatcha think you’re doing, little man?” Rhed snarled. I half expected to see sharp teeth in his grin.

  The man glanced around with wide, bloodshot eyes, evidently finding himself in a pickle. He raised his free hand. “Look,” he said in a slurred voice, “I was jus’ wann’ing to get a—”

  CLONK!

  Marion swung a rolling pin into the man’s temple. His eyes rolled up in his head, and he tipped over and slid down the wall. Rhed's shoulders dropped with disappointment.

  Marion fluttered her hand on her chest and puffed delicately. “Goodness me, my heart's beating fit to burst! They really should close down that awful bar! Are you alright, girls?”

  Most of them nodded. The one serving us began to slide to the floor in a faint, and Cobalt dove halfway across the countertop to catch her.

  As a token of her appreciation for Rhed’s semi-heroic demonstration, Marion gave us each a loaf of bread, plus four cookies for Cobalt and me and a slice of the pie for Rhed. Once the girl who fainted was successfully revived, she expressed her gratitude to Cobalt through a passionate-to-the-point-of-melodramatic kiss right on the lips. Cobalt flushed bright red, and Marion good-naturedly scolded her while the other girls giggled wildly. I'm guessing they didn't get out much. Rhed shoved us out the door shortly afterward , as their gratitude was keeping him from his pie.

  We left the shop and wandered further into the city until we found a fountain, where we sat down and ate lunch in relative quiet. Rhed sat a few feet away from the water and made fun of Cobalt for being so embarrassed about being kissed. Cobalt was still in a bit of a daze and didn’t bother to respond. I blocked them out and just enjoyed the sensation of having a full stomach.