|[ DEATH'S APPRENTICE ]|

[Chapter Six]

Night fell quickly in WrellHaven. And with the darkness came more rain, and wind, and I found myself wishing we were back by the fire again. We stood in the overhang of a doorway, watching as the puddles around us grew larger and larger. A few feet away a street lamp glowed dimly, its glass casing cracked. Rain spattered against my booted ankles, and I was thankful that my feet, at least, were dry.

"How much longer do we need to wait?" I finally asked. I wasn't sure if Malik was still angry with me. It was hard to tell what he was thinking at times, and he hadn't spoken much since that morning.

"Until someone shows up." He said after a pause, looking directly in front of him. I stared at the same flat space of wall, and wondered what he found so fascinating about it. Or perhaps, I thought, it was so he didn't have to look at me.

"Anyone in particular?" I tested. Malik sighed, closing his eyes.

"No, I thought we would just run off with the next stranger to pop by." He crossed his arms, opening his eyes to finally look at me. "Do you purposefully try to ask the stupidest questions, or are you really that stupid?"

"I'm solely here to test your patience." I said with a sweet smile, though my chest suddenly tightened.

"Well by god, you're doing a mighty fine job." Malik said, a hint of humour in his voice. His eyes searched mine for a brief moment before he went back to staring at the wall.

"I'm sorry about earlier." He said after a while, "About yelling at you. I just..." his voice grew so soft it was hard to hear, "I just don't want to watch you die."

"It's okay." I said, reaching out to tough his hand, "I understand."

"I know that you're new to this, and that this isn't easy work to do," he still wouldn't look at me. "It's just... I would rather have you hate me than have you die in my care."

"Malik, I don't hate you." I laughed quietly, "I just really, really, really don't like you." he laughed with me, those grey eyes finally meeting mine, and I felt his fingers close around mine for a brief second.

"Ah-hem." A voice commanded out attention and I jerked my hand out of Malik's. Before us stood an older man in a long, dark coat, a heavy blue scarf wrapped around his neck. Dark hair was plastered to his forehead with rain, streaked with grey, and bright blue eyes sat in a clean-shaven face. I glanced at Malik, but he showed no sign of surprise at the man's appearance. I gave him a suspicious look.

"How long has he been there?" I hissed. He grinned.

"About two minutes."

"And you didn't think to tell me?" I narrowed my eyes.

"And ruin our lovely bonding session?" he cast me a wink before smoothing his face once more, "No, I don't think so."

"I can come back." the man said impatiently, his arms over his chest. I looked down at him as he gave us a disapproving glare.

"That won't be necessary." Malik swept away from me and the doorway, stepping out into the rain. He pulled his hood up over his head, shielding it from the rain. His joking air had disappeared, leaving a colder version of Malik in its place.

"One stands tall, above six others." The man said softly, staring intently at Malik, ignoring me completely.

"Seven targets, seven weeping mothers." Malik replied coolly, no humour in his face. The rhyme meant nothing to me, but when Malik finished the man's face seemed to relax somewhat, and he held out a small bag. It clinked slightly as it moved.