Atha stood at the edge of the water. Her feet were bare, and a bit cold, but she didn't mind. She basked in the silent stillness of the water line. No one really came out here. They were too afraid.

Tomorrow, she would have to pretend to be like them. 

The Waleshi Wash had claimed many lives over the last ten years. This final crossing of the Pilgrim's Way was the last obstacle on the journey to dry land. To a new life. 

Atha had been waiting nearly three months for her turn to make this crossing. She had survived by doing odd jobs and chores for others, in exchange for morsels of food. Most of the time she watched the other Pilgrims' young children. She would have been watching them now, but, as luck would have it, all of the families she did this service for had also been selected for the crossing tomorrow. She looked down and rubbed the red ink stain that spread across the back of her right hand. Her ticket across the Waleshi Wash.

Atha wondered what was in store for her on the other side. Only the guides knew what awaited the Pilgrims, and they only told those who had a coin or two to spare. Any person who had managed to hold onto their money had already paid the guides to take them across the Waleshi Wash. Only the poorest were left here at the Pilgrim's camp. Like Atha. She was an orphan, and therefore did not have a coin in the world with which to pay anybody. Not for food, clothing, or information about this place that she would be journeying to. So Atha remained ignorant. But in her mind she imagined, and hoped beyond all hope, that it was better than here.

The people she knew in the Pilgrim's camp were mostly kind, and they always gave her fair payment for whatever labor she had performed. But she never felt that she belonged. Especially with her secret.

Atha looked down from the panoramic view of the still water, and watched her bare toes as she wiggled them, inching closer to the edge of the water. How she yearned to close the gap, unafraid and unashamed. She didn't know why the water didn't harm her. She had seen countless times before the affects the burning water had on others. People with an entire leg or arm bound up in the tell-tale bandages and other wrappings used to hide the evidence of contact. The constant winces of pain on their faces. After contact with the burning water, the flesh blisters immediately, then it takes about a week to scab over. But the wounds never heal completely. Great care must be taken ever after to make sure that they do not become infected. Many died just from the initial pain, if enough skin had been exposed. If they did survive initial contact, they would still have to live with that pain for the rest of their lives.

Atha wondered what it was that made her so special, that she alone was immune to the effects of it. She wished she knew. If she did, she could tell everyone else, and maybe they could figure out a way to ease all of the suffering that had come with the burning water. But she had no idea what it was, and knew that if she were discovered she would not be able to explain. So Atha kept it hidden. Kept her urges under control. Barely.

As she watched the water that was now less than an inch away from her longest toes, a miniscule ripple caused the water to move, just tickling the edge of her skin. She sighed quietly from the relief it brought to that tiny part of her body. For others it brought pain. But for her it brought a relaxing, soothing sensation. More ripples, and more of the water came, now covering all of her toes. But why were there ripples? The water had been still as stone just a moment before. Atha looked up, brushing her long brown hair out of her face so she could see up the water line. There was nothing to her right, but to her left she did see something. 

It was one of the wagon-boats, the vehicles used to transport the Pilgrims for the crossing. It was tall, nearly twenty feet high, and its giant wheels were but half that. It was made mostly of wood, with multiple layers of animal skins covering the bottom and sides up to two feet above the wheels. The skins had been treated to be waterproof, and ensured safety from the burning water. The wheels had four inch long metal spikes set in rows, for better traction in the water logged ground.