Cover

Title Page

Dedication

For my father, Kenneth.

1

The enormous shadow of a seabird slid across the waves and fell upon the Wayfinder. Storm, sitting in the stern of the ship, felt the hairs on the back of her neck stir.

She slipped her tablet and drawing stick into the leather pouch at her waist and waited for the threat to make itself known. Lake, captain of the Wayfinder, stood a few paces from her, bare feet gripping the deck, hand light on the tiller. He was humming under his breath, his thickset body swaying to the sea’s dance. It was obvious that her uncle hadn’t seen the Air spirit’s warning. She was used to that – the Albatross seldom appeared to others.

Storm was a witch: last year, when she had turned thirteen, the Elemental spirits had given her power over both Air and Water. Now she stood up and began to look for any threat lurking in the watery hills of the Second Sea. Storm counted eleven ships riding the waves in diamond formation behind them – all that was left of Yanlin’s once mighty fleet.

The enormous white and grey wingspan of the Albatross suddenly appeared, tracking its shadow, circling over the following ships like the bird of prey it was. Storm’s stomach began to squirm the way it did whenever she saw any of the Elemental spirits. There was no sign of the Dolphin, but the Water spirit was seldom to be counted upon.

“Hey, Storm! You spotted something?”

It was Cloud, a childhood friend who had sailed with the fleet the previous year, the year of the Drowned Ones’ attack on Yanlin Island. Cloud had been lucky: he had survived. Many had not.

“Back to work, boy!” Uncle Lake’s larger-than-average nose turned at once in their direction; his nickname with the crew, she knew, was “Trouble-sniffer”. “You’re supposed to be in the galley, gutting fish.”

“I’ve finished, Master. Can I climb up to the crow’s nest and spell the lookout?”

“How many times do I have to tell you that junior
apprentices don’t do lookout duty? If there aren’t any fish to gut then go and mend nets!”

Cloud’s eyes flashed rebelliously, but he retreated below deck.

Storm’s uncle sighed and turned to her. “Do enemies threaten?”

“I don’t know. Maybe.” She swayed to the roll of the boat that was part of her now, like breathing. The fleet had left Yanlin harbour only three five-days ago, yet it felt like she had always lived aboard this ship. She had become two people – the new seafaring Storm and the barely remembered girl who had died along with her mother.