‘Greetings from the stormsingers,’ said a girl in silver robes. She reached up towards the sky, then dragged her hand down in a fist causing a tiny storm of raindrops to lash Liska’s head, soaking her to the skin.

‘And the barkmages,’ said another. He touched the vines and they hardened like iron. All Liska’s strength couldn’t make them budge.

‘Don’t forget the mossherders,’ added a girl in green robes and streaks of lichen in her hair. She hummed under her breath and Liska felt a wet, furry moustache form over her top lip. Compared to what the others had done, it seemed a bit pathetic.

‘H-hey! You fellows! Y-you really should leave her alone, you know. Master Ambrose might give you all extra homework. Or tell your parents, maybe.’

As Liska spat the fresh-grown moss away, she saw the brown-robed boy who had sat across from her edge up to her attackers. He was trembling like a new-formed leaf on the Undrentree. The mages immediately burst out laughing.

‘What are you going to do, worm-face? Throw maggots at us?’ The big arbomancer clapped his hands and guffawed. All his cronies laughed even harder. The boy seemed to shrink into his robes, as if he was about to shrivel up and disappear.

‘What’s going on here?’ From the classroom doorway came Master Ambrose’s voice, no longer weak and brittle. His old eyes flashed with anger as he glared towards them. He began to stomp over and the bullies instantly scattered, leaving Liska – still wrapped in hardened vines – and her would-be rescuer.

‘Who did this to you?’ Ambrose asked, stepping up to Liska and putting a hand on the wooden cocoon that bound her. She felt the strips of vine begin to vibrate as if something inside them was twitching, then one by one they snapped and fell to the floor.

‘Oh, nobody really,’ she said. Even though she had begun to hate that arbomancer and his friends, she knew better than to tell tales. She would much rather settle the matter on her own. ‘Some kids were just showing me their amazing powers.’

Ambrose looked at her long and hard before nodding his head. ‘If that’s the way you wish it,’ he said. ‘But I would like to apologise on behalf of all of us that live in the city. I know the way shapewalkers are treated – why they don’t often come down here. The young ones – and some of their parents – don’t really understand what your people do for us. The danger you face so that we may be safe. The bravery and sacrifices you make on our behalf, and the way you do it without any thought of reward or praise.’

Liska gaped. She had no idea anybody in Arborven felt that way. She had grown used to the idea of being despised and ignored. ‘It’s nothing—’ she started to say.