“I hate naiads,” Zoë grumbled. A stream of water squirted up from the back of the boat and hit Zoë in the face. “She-devils!” Zoë went for her bow. “Whoa,” I said. “They’re just playing.” “Cursed water spirits. They’ve never forgiven me.” “Forgiven you for what?” She slung her bow back over her shoulder. “It was a long time ago. Never mind.”
