The days and weeks passed like the water running through the river. All alike, gone in an instant, yet never to return in exactly the same fashion.

Sofia felt restless. It had only been one day, one single day, in which the world had suddenly opened up and had revealed itself for the large and old place that it was, full of people, stories and history. It had scared her, but it had also filled her with a tingling sensation, like blood running wild through a foot that had been asleep. Now, she felt as if her limbs were slowly going numb again.

She had hoped that Aunt Sybil would continue to teach her about Nihon, about the bridge, about the Assessors, but she had not said another word about any of this, and she seemed even more reluctant to have her niece around than she had before. The few times Sofia had ventured into her room, Aunt Sybil had treated her as if she wasn't there. Sofia had sat in a corner, silently, turning the words and questions around in her head until they were fragmented beyond recognition. Then she had gone out, throwing stones into the river without even trying to make them jump.

She spent more time at the riverside. She would strain her eyes towards the other side of the shore, but the harder she tried, the further it seemed to move away as if it was deliberately escaping her view.

She started to think that she had dreamed up Orì like an imaginary friend that only appears in the moments of greatest boredom. Sometimes, she would whisper her name as if she could be summoned like an apparition. But nothing happened.

When she went to the store, Mr Borrealis treated her with cautious detachment, and he always seemed relieved when she left. He probably felt like he had said too much, Sofia thought, or maybe he dreaded her questions. It was the same with Pip and Tin. The peculiar boys wouldn't even meet her eyes, and moved away from her as if to shield themselves.

"I don't want to play with you, anyway," she said with disdain, but she felt increasingly lonely.

One evening, Sofia, Uncle Tomas and Aunt Sybil were sitting in the kitchen after dinner. Aunt Sybil looked up from the book she had been reading and said without forewarning,

"The Assessors are coming next week."

Sofia looked up. Her mouth went dry. The mere mention of the Assessors filled her with dread, but with a kind of impatient anticipation too.

"Those guys again?" Uncle Tomas said. "Weren't they here a month ago?"

"Six and a half weeks ago. Your sense of time is somewhat flawed, Tomas. I wonder why that is."

Uncle Tomas shot her a conciliatory look, but she didn't return it. He sighed.

"The Assessors give me the creeps."

"You don't have to talk to them."

"They make everything around them feel cold."

"I don't feel that way."

Uncle Tomas snorted. He had obviously given up on his short-lived plan to keep the peace. "That's because you might as well be one of them."

Sofia thought that Aunt Sybil would be pleased with the comment, but she saw an expression of hurt playing around her aunt's thin lips. She opened her mouth to say something, maybe to explain herself or defend herself, but then left it unsaid, and returned to her book. She was reading about the development of insects from eggs or larvae to full-grown creatures. From the look of it, this matter demanded her full attention.

Uncle Tomas looked conflicted, but soon his gaze wandered towards the window. A few minutes later, he got up and left the house. The door fell in its hinges, and Aunt Sybil made a point of not moving a muscle as if she hadn't noticed his departure. Soon afterwards, she went to bed, and Sofia was left to herself, thinking about the Assessors. She had a vague picture of them in her mind. Tall and skinny men with earnest grey faces, wearing blue suits with red-banded collars and red button plackets running down the front of their lapel. She had once caught their sight a few years ago without knowing who they were. Usually, they came and went like ghosts, leaving no traces, never crossing paths with those they didn't have an appointment with. Sofia had not noticed them six and a half weeks ago, and she couldn't recall any difference in her aunt and uncle's behavior.

She resolved not to be scared of them, but that night, she dreamed that she was sitting cross-legged in the middle of a large round table, candles burning all around her. Ghostly men with concealed faces were addressing her in a language she didn't know. She tried to tell them that she couldn't understand them and therefore not defend herself, but the words were stuck inside her throat. She became more and more desperate, and tried to scream at them, to let them know that she wanted to cooperate, that she wanted to come clean. To no avail. When she woke up, she was drenched in sweat.

She got out of bed and got dressed. She would never be able to fall back asleep, and the sky was already slowly starting to grow lighter, so she went outside, hugging her winter coat close to her body. The village was silent and empty. The solitude made her feel even colder.

She looked at the river, wondering if she had not better to go back to bed after all when she heard a voice coming from the exact spot where she had been looking. But there was nothing except the water. It gurgled along slowly and peacefully, as if it was not fully awake yet either.

"Hoo-hoo, Sofia! Long time no see."

For a moment, Sofia worried that the wind, or maybe her mind, were playing tricks on her.

"Look closer, silly," Orì's voice came again, delighted with her own mischief.

Then, even though Sofia hadn't even blinked, there she was, stretching herself like a cat on a large flat rock in the middle of the river.

The rock had not been there before.

Not visibly, Sofia thought.

"How long have you been here?" she asked, careful to hide the joy that had swept over her at Orì's sight.

"Who, me? I just arrived," Orì smiled. "And that's no way to greet a friend. As if you're not even happy to see me."

"We're not friends."

"No?" Orì feigned a pout. "How would you know? You don't have any friends."

Sofia stared at her in shock. She turned away.

"Wait, don't go," Orì called after her. "I'm sorry, that wasn't nice."

Sofia stopped, but she kept her back turned until the tears rising to her eyes had dried up. She pulled up her nose.

"I don't suppose you have many friends yourself," she said in a haughty voice. "If you're always mean like that."

"I was only joking."

Sofia looked at Orì. Her face was fluid, and all the colors of all the deep and shallow waters in the world were mirrored on it, but she couldn't say if it was a reflection or coming from within.

"I don't think you were," she said.

"Don't be a bad sport," Orì said, flicking her hand at her in an annoyed gesture. She was half sitting, half lying on the rock, stretching her limbs in every direction as if doing some strange kind of morning gymnastics. She lifted her back a little bit, almost imperceptible. And then, though sitting perfectly still, her shape jumped out of herself, flipping around in a flawless somersault. Then, it vanished back into Orì as if her spirit had only emerged to do a trick that the mere body was not able or willing to do.

Orì grinned at Sofia and didn't say a word.

"What -?" Sofia said. "What?" she repeated, completely forgetting that she had planned to impress Orì with her wit if she ever saw her again.

"What?" Orì repeated innocently.

"Did you do that?"

"Do you mean this?"

Orì closed her eyes, and once again her shadow darted out, colorful and light, yet with an explicit weight. It spiralled not once, but twice, around her bodily form.

Orì stretched herself with obvious relish.

"Ah, it feels good to jump. It awakens the body and the mind."

"But you didn't jump or do anything!" Sofia said. "I looked at you, and you just sat there. You barely moved."

"Well, not my body. But you saw me do it, no?"

"I -, I don't know. You did a trick. A magic trick."

Sofia moved a step away from Orì, but just one. She glanced over her shoulder to make sure Aunt Sybil was nowhere to be seen. She remembered what she had said about magic, about how it ruined the character. She wanted to tell Orì off, but she was too curious about what she had just witnessed.

"How did you do that? Was that your shadow?"

"No, silly. Shadows can't do somersaults. It's just a simple trick. Look."

Orì lifted her head, and with a little tilt, her shape sprang out, bolting like an arrow into the stratosphere. When it came back down, it was gliding through the air like a leaf.

Orì giggled and shook her head.

"That always makes me dizzy, but it's worth it."

She held up her hands, and the tips of her fingers lit up, turning the blue color of her skin green. She held them into the water, and green and yellow streaks ran out of them like ink flowing from a pen.

"I can do other colors, too," she said. "But this is the easiest. I'm a bit tired from the jumps." She looked at Sofia, and for the first time, her impish expression turned thoughtful. "You really can see all of this, can't you?"

"Of course," Sofia said, gesturing towards her as if it was plain and obvious.

"Do you think that everybody from your village would be able to see it?"

Sofia opened her mouth to say Yes but stopped herself.

"I don't know. Many people here seem to be quite bad at seeing things. It's almost as if they don't want to."

"Some don't want to, but many really can't."

"Only here, or in Nihon, too?" Sofia asked timidly.

As she had feared, Orì burst into laughter.

"In Nihon?!" she exclaimed. "You ask the funniest questions, really, you do."

"How am I supposed to know? I've never been to Nihon, and nobody talks about it here."

"You don't talk about a good many things here."

"So? There are other things to do. And do your people talk about us?"

Orì shrugged. "Not much," she said. "But you are so drab and boring. Nothing ever happens."

"Many things happen here," Sofia protested, though she hoped that Orì wouldn't ask for an example.

She looked back up towards the window.

"Your aunt is waking up," Orì said. "Soon she'll be at her post."

"Can't you make yourself invisible again?"

"Not to people who can see me," Orì said. "Or not for a long time, anyway. And won't she be suspicious why you're down here?"

"She doesn't care where I am as long as I don't make any trouble."

"My mother is the same," Orì said. "But I always make trouble."

"I never make trouble."

Orì looked at Sofia. Then she smiled a little, mischievously.

"Don't you want to start? How about adding a little color to your life?"

Her fingertips started to glow red and purple. She held them into the water, and spidery streaks colored the water pink like a sunset.

Sofia felt overwhelmed with jealousy. "I can't do that."

"Sure you can. If you can see it, that means that you can do it."

Orì's eyes shot upwards again. The shutters were opened from the inside by Aunt Sybil's long pale hands and clattered against the stonewall of the house.

"Try it tonight," Orì whispered quickly. "And come back tomorrow morning, then we can paint the river together."

She giggled again, and then she was gone as if she had never been there.