The Girl in the Water

Chapter 6

Roan was even more confused, and Apollo didn't miss the look on his face.

"It's extremely rare. No one knows who finds these poor children, and who teaches them. But they're versed in magic and killing - they're raised to be killers, which is what makes them so dangerous."

"Well why can't they go in the water then?" Roan was frowning, visualizing little faerie children with no wings. The wings made the faerie; as horrible as it was, he understood why their parents abandoned them.

"Faeries aren't born with magic like elves are, but there's magic in the wings." Apollo explained. "Without them, they might as well be humans. No one knows quite why, but exposure to large amounts of water can kill Stone Assassins. It eats at their skin, corrodes their bones. It's rather strange, really." Apollo mused, his eyes faraway as he visualized it. "Normal faeries are fine, but assassins... well, it's their mysterious fatal flaw I suppose."

Roan digested this. "If only we had a portable water cannon." He sighed wryly.

"Oh, but you do." Apollo looked up again, tearing off another floorboard with a snap. His face was serious.

"What do you mean?"

"You didn't recognize Emery's ring?" Apollo asked, his voice faintly incredulous.

Roan raised an eyebrow. "Should I have?"

Apollo regarded him quietly. Behind them, Jannosh and Myrnah were talking in low voices, their rapid Russian too quick to catch.

"No, I guess you wouldn't." Apollo mused. "You never knew your parents."

Roan strode over to Apollo in two long strides. He crouched down so that his eyes were level with the vampire's. "What does Emery's ring have to do with my parents?"

"Quite a lot, actually." He looked back at him squarely. "Every waif had a ring like that, except your parents' rings would have been red."

Roan flinched in shock.

Apollo reached out and clasped Roan's shoulder. "Emery's a waif, Roan." He told him firmly. "Just like you."

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"That man has to be the slowest damn elf in all the magical world." Hargrem snarled, leaning angrily against the balcony. It was the same one Felix Fleur had stood on the previous night; the crowd moving below it was extremely similar, if not the exact same.

From inside the dilapidated room, a pretty elf lounged against a stained wall. She threw a look over to wear a hulking mongool sat primly and quietly on an ancient couch; it was missing an arm, and a stain that looked suspiciously like blood spoiled most of the ratty fabric. His yellow eyes met hers, and he fought to hold back a laugh.

"Regardless of how slow he is." She called out to the werewolf. "He's our boss, so you should shut your mouth."

"I'm sure Master Hiegrin will be here shortly." The mongool added on quietly, his thickly accented voice whispering out the balcony doors.

Hargrem turned to glare at his team members. They looked back at him baldly. The werewolf was the newest member of their team, and he had proven difficult to deal with from the start. In his human form, the man sported a bristly red beard and a heavily tattooed scalp. One wild blue eye snapped between the elf and the mongool; the other eye had been lost in the Faerie War, along with a couple fingers. His huge form could barely contain the rage that had grown like a disease in him since the war ended, and it had made him irritating to discipline and even harder to spend time with.

"What are the lot of you, his fans?" The werewolf sneered.

Eisla, the beautiful elf, was the leader. She was thin but wiry, her pale blonde hair shorn close to her skull and making her heavily pierced, pointed ears seem even more prominent. She was twirling a thin silver sword lazily as she waited, the tip twinkling as it whistled past her face. Dismissing the traditional goblin made armour of her people, she favoured the leather armour of the mongools - the elves supposed sworn enemies. Her light blue eyes shot a look at Guo now, wondering just when the mongool's patience would snap.