Uncle and Foam were seated in a corner of the dark, low-ceilinged main room. Lake glanced at her as she entered but looked away. Was Uncle being cautious? Or was there danger? Storm studied the room, but there was no sign of Talon’s people. So she bowed politely to the proprietress and made her way to their corner. Storm eased herself on to the mat beside her uncle and he glanced up, surprise on his face.

“Greetings, Uncle. And to you, Foam.” She bowed politely to both men and tried to quell her nerves. Her back was to the door, which made her shoulder blades twitch. If Tolbar had managed to follow her trail she might burst in at any moment!

Uncle Lake was still staring at her in amazement. “Is that you, Niece?”

Storm had forgotten; now she felt herself blush. “It’s the face paint. Talon’s daughter wanted me to wear it this morning and it seemed rude to refuse.”

“You grow used to the ways of the Pact then?” Lake’s voice was quiet, and that was strange. Her uncle was loud and definite. “You like fancy clothes and painted faces?”

Storm blinked. What was wrong?

“That wrist cuff and those earrings. Solid gold from the looks of them. Who paid for those, Storm?”

“They were gifts.” Why was Uncle trying to make her feel bad? It wasn’t her fault Betaan insisted on giving her presents.

“You wear girl’s clothes again.” Foam joined in, his voice also accusing. “Your hair is loose. Have you forgotten your pledge to the Elders? To Yanlin?”

“I forget nothing! When am I allowed to? I’m not here to talk about what I’m wearing or whether there is paint on my face. I am here to hear your news and tell you mine, unless you wish me to return to the Pact now?”

She was a Weather-witch now, not a child to be rebuked. Lake and Foam were being unfair. Or were they? I have nothing to feel guilty about! she raged at her mind-voice, which wisely kept silent.

Anxiety flickered to life in her uncle’s eyes. “No, Niece. I do not wish you to return to the Pact. I am sorry if I misspoke. It is because I am afraid that we will lose you. You must realise that.”

“Do you question my loyalty?” Her anger would not be quelled so easily.

“Do we have reason to?” Foam was not frightened. He looked at her and it was as though her former mistress, Elder Teanu, was rebuking her.

Storm’s anger stuttered. “Of course not!”

“You are not a fool,” said Foam. “You must recognise the enticements they throw at you. Not just fine clothes and jewels, rich food and luxurious houses. But power of a sort we do not use on Yanlin. Have you not noticed, Storm, how poor the ordinary people are? That here there are masters and those mastered?”