For weeks they wandered inland, surviving on wild berries and debates. Every creek was examined for “pale-skinned locals.” Every bird was accused of hiding treasure.
Finally, they stumbled upon a broad, misty river. Its water was oddly milky, filled with white clay that glimmered in the sun. On its banks stood people — tall, graceful, and pale as ghosts, their skin coated in the river’s chalky sediment.
