The noise of commerce died at their approach. People turned and stared as Talon’s procession marched through the square towards the gatehouse. The huge iron gate was quartered with images of the four Elementals.

The gatehouse guards snapped to attention and hurried to push the gate inward. It swung open with oiled ease.

As Storm passed the coiled image of the Salamander, her left hand crept to cover the scar on her right wrist – the brand that marked the Fire spirit’s last attempt to kill her.

The guardhouse echoed like a cave with the thud of boots. Storm shivered with excitement and awe. Yanlin had never seemed so far away, so small and insignificant. When she saw what lay beyond the gate, Storm’s mouth fell open.

“It is beautiful, is it not?” Talon had anticipated her reaction and paused to give her time to take in this extraordinary place.

Like a precious emerald, a garden lay at the heart of the stone and brick town. Gravel paths wove among flowering trees and shrubs to a central pond. The garden oasis was surrounded on three sides by fifteen tall houses built of plaster-covered brick. Each had tall windows opening on to wrought-iron verandas. Balconies overflowed with wisteria, jasmine and roses. The steep roofs were covered in tiles glazed a shimmering blue that echoed the sky.

“That is my house,” Talon said, pointing to a large building facing them at the back of the square. “My daughter will be waiting to meet you. Come!”

“How old are these houses?” Storm hurried after him.

“Very old.” Talon’s moustaches waggled when he smiled. “My ancestors have lived here for many generations.”

Storm blinked in surprise. Talon’s words meant that membership in the Fifteen – the trading Pact that ran Bellum Island – was hereditary. On Yanlin seven Elders were elected by popular vote from among all those who had lived long enough to have had a chance of gaining the necessary wisdom.

It seemed dangerous to trust that your descendants would perpetually be both virtuous and wise, but, she thought, there was no arguing with the success of Bellum.

The door of Talon’s house was made of teak, its carvings ancient and worn by wind and sun. It creaked open at their approach to reveal a girl of fourteen or fifteen, dressed in a primrose-yellow tunic and white trousers. Her eyes sparkled with intelligence, her nostrils were elegantly flared, and her lips looked ready to smile.

Storm followed the Pact leader into a hall covered with thick mats of rice straw. A tall window opposite the door flooded the space with light. Storm’s eyes widened in astonishment. The window was filled with pieces of glass set in lead frames. She had only ever seen glass in the form of beads: tiny smudged blue and greenish pebbles far too expensive to own. Precious glass was so cheap to the Pact that they used it to shut out the wind!