The Girl in the Water

Chapter 11

When I woke up in the blue room, everything was silent and still. Large squares of moonlight spilled across my bed and onto the smooth floor, dust motes dancing elegantly in the pale light. I watched them for a second as my mind slowly grew more alert. My whole body felt numb, as if some kind of impossible weight had just been lifted off of me. I lifted a hand and examined it closely; in the moonlight, I was as pale as snow, and my skin was smooth and unblemished. There was no reason for my flesh to feel as if it had been pummelled.

Looking around, I jerked in surprise to see a figure sprawled in a chair beside my bed. Roan was fast asleep, his limbs relaxed as they hung awkwardly, and his eyes moving gently beneath the delicate skin of his eyelids. Soft snores rose from the back of his throat, making his chest rise and fall rhythmically. In the muted light, he was even more beautiful - he looked like something carved out of marble, a figure destined to be admired by multitudes. As I looked at him, a pair of luminous, glowing eyes opened in the darkness of his collar.

"Hello." I whispered, surprised at how raspy my voice was. Why on earth was I in this state?

Like a shadow, Bono scampered across Roan's sleeping form before leaping onto the bed. His tiny paws tapped lightly across the mattress as he made his way over to me; he curled up in my waiting arms, looking up at me expectantly.

"What?" I asked him lightly, frowning back at him as my palm smoothed over the soft fur of his back. He simply looked at me, the moonlight glimmering off his giant eyes.

I stared back at him broodingly. The events of the afternoon were coming back to me, slowly but surely. I thought of the emotional conversation I'd had with Roan up in the trees, of how soft his hand was my cheek. I thought of the fiery figure, floating in the air and laughing like a madman as the flames swallowed my uncle whole.

I remembered the great ribbons of water whipping him to the ground.

How had I done that? My hand paused on Bono's back, his body warm against my hand. Unless another water waif had been skulking in the trees, I'd somehow managed to suck the water from around me and strike the madman down. There was no way I could have known how to do that; the knowledge of what I am was only days fresh, and there weren't any waifs around who could teach me how to ply the water to my will. But somehow I had done it. My rage had pulled the moisture from the trees and the grass, had broken the water mains and pulled the water through the air. I was mystified as to how it had happened, but in addition to my confusion, I was terrified.

Just what exactly was I capable of doing?

I had been so ready to kill the strange man. I had never set eyes on him in my life, but I was ready to fill his body up with water, to squeeze all the air out of him till his heart stopped beating. The power that had ripped water through the air had throbbed in my veins and made my brain heady and delirious - the feeling was overwhelming and addicting. When the man had powered away, flames roaring from his feet, I was both relieved and disappointed. Relieved that I hadn't killed him, and at the same time, disappointed that I hadn't.

My mind drifted back to the story of the brothers Aeon and Theon. Was it the same power that I'd felt that had made them harvest lands for themselves? Was it that greed for that raw, vibrant feeling that made them feel invincible?

The moon glinted off the ring that still sat curled around my finger. It had dulled back to its normal composition above the water, but I could still remember how it shimmered down in the ocean. It was created as a stark reminder - do not let power rule you. Humility had ruled the waifs the last several centuries they had lived, and it was now, as one of the few - or two - left alive, that I doubted that humility could reign in what I had felt out on the lawn.