The Girl in the Water

Chapter 1

My mind wandered as I meandered through the shimmering streets. Angry looking grey storm clouds churned high above the towering spires of Feloix Felaii, but none of the icy rain drops they were undoubtedly releasing in a furious torrent touched the ground; spells cast ages ago kept the city serene from outside forces. I looked up at the clouds vaguely, munching on an apple as I walked. Rain would have been nice; the city was still rank and humid from the effects of The Great Plague, and despite its absence the air still felt sickly.

I paused at the entrance of a narrow alleyway, causing a witch hurrying behind me to curse as he hastily side-stepped me and kept on his way. I didn't pay him any mind; I was retracing routes in my head, wondering if the alley would take me more quickly to the Commerce Building. It was mother's birthday, and I was already late.

Satisfied with the route my mind had constructed, I ambled leisurely into the dark depths. My parents were rarely angry with me, and they treated my punctuality - or lack thereof - with more amusement than annoyance. Especially in times like these, with the greatest magical city in the world struggling to recover after the Plague, Commerce was hurrying to right itself. Since both Felicia and Thomas Stoneway worked in the Commerce Building, they probably wouldn't even notice my tardiness.

The narrow and winding side streets of Feloix Felaii were emptier than the more routinely traveled veins. Despite the colourful lights that lit up every corner of the city, the alleys I'd adopted as shortcuts always seemed slightly darker. They were the kind of streets where individuals with turned up collars and suspicious eyes hurried by, keeping to the few shadows, and where unseen gazes watched from dark windows. My mother used to be afraid of me walking through these places, but after years of my disobedience, she'd relaxed; she'd learned, as I had, that the people who frequented the empty alleyways did so for privacy, not to look for trouble.

Now, as I made my way, the only person walking with me was several metres ahead, ambling at a unharried pace and whistling absent-mindedly as he paid me no mind. I took another bite of my apple, taking in the person's white blonde hair and rather shabby looking brown suede jacket. I squinted at the back of his head, wondering what magical entity he was. Elf, maybe? That would explain the hair. But no elf would be caught dead wearing clothes like. Shifter, like me?

As I walked behind him, I stumbled in surprise as some kind of furry animal popped up from the depths of the person's collar, squeaking in a high pitch that grated at my ears. The person stopped walking and whistling immediately, tilting his white blonde head to the side as if he was listening to the animal.

"What's up, Bono?" His voice was melodic and good-natured as it traveled back to me.

Suddenly, a dark shape flew out from the adjoining alley right next to him, and I watched, dumbfounded, as he was thrown against the wall. There was a slight scuffle as I watched, the pair a tangle of flailing arms and muttered grunts, and all the while, the small animal squeaked with all its might.

"Dumb rat!" The attacker growled, and I flinched as a large hand grabbed the animal and flung it away. It hit the wall of the alley and crumpled onto the street, where it lay unmoving and silent.

"Hey!" The white blonde man yelled angrily, but his protests were cut off as a fist connected with his jaw.

Moving of their own accord, my legs hurried over to the felled animal. Up close, I saw it was some kind of squirrel. It was a light brown in colour with a striped, fluffy tail, and though its eyes were closed I could tell they were huge. Its little chest rose up and down fitfully, and I was suddenly angry.

Scooping up the little body gingerly in my arms, I turned indignantly to where the pair of men were still wrestling against the wall.

"Hey!" I shouted. Immediately, both men stopped to look at me. I saw that the squirrel's owner was amazingly good-looking, with large, luminous golden eyes and delicate, smooth skin; his attacker on the hand, was large and rough, with a pair of bull's horns on his forehead announcing that he was a witch. They both stared at me quizzically.