It was a peculiar song with a melody rhythmical and plaintive at the same time, like nothing Anna had ever heard before. They sang:
Where no color’s to be seen
In pitch black the paths begin.
Red ignites the game of life
For a hunter to arrive.
Merry with an orange hue
A Hunter’s heart is feeling new.
The mind is shining yellow-bright,
It gains the power of insight,
Understanding ever clear
The Hunter, green inside the mirror.
Upside down above the blue
Only a pure mind is true.
Shows the deepest indigo
Where a ready soul will go.
The Game’s played out without regret,
The Hunter wraps in violet,
Just to see in clear light
That, like snow, the truth is white.
For a moment Anna fell under a spell, her gaze moving from face to face, which seemed more and more beautiful as the boys kept singing. All of them looked like they could have come from different parts of the world, yet all were handsome in a similar, otherworldly way: graceful, with precise small features, high cheekbones and radiant eyes. Also, all had very long, wellgroomed hair, braided in a variety of styles.
‘Now, this is where all the gorgeous guys are,’ passed through Anna’s mind. ‘They all join cult gangs.’