“To give you some refreshment. You have had a shock.” He beamed at her. “And because you are the Weather-witch of Yanlin. More, you are the Child of Three Elementals, for the Tortoise claims you also.”

Storm felt the hairs on her arms lift and shivered. No one knew that. No one but the Elders of Yanlin and her cousin Minnow.

“The Tortoise told me.”

Of course: he was an Earth-witch. She watched him shuffle off towards a wooden hut just visible through the tree branches and wished the monkey would return. Slowly, she followed the old man.

“Seat yourself!” He pointed to the mats scattered on the porch and Storm sank down on one, carefully placing her parcel beside her. She felt the toy boat through the wrapping, amazed to find that the old woman’s creation had survived intact.

The Earth-witch bustled about the tiny yard in front of the hut. He plucked up a simple unglazed teapot from where it sat on top of a sunbaked stone and poured something into two cups. He put the cups on a tray and carried it into the back of the hut. Storm listened to him opening cupboards, clattering about, and realised that, for the first time since arriving on Bellum Island, she felt safe. If she listened long enough, perhaps the Fire-witch trying to kill her would become just a story she had made up to scare herself.

Her rescuer brought the tray back to the porch and placed it on a mat. Then he lowered himself to sit beside her, with a creaking of joints that reminded her, wistfully, of Teanu.

“Eat! Drink!” he ordered. “You will feel better afterwards.”

The tray held a plate of tiny flat cakes along with the cups of amber liquid. She lifted the nearest cup. The contents looked and smelled like tea, but she had not seen him boil water. The old man took up a cup and slurped loudly.

Storm took a tentative sip. “Delicious, thank you! But how did you brew tea without hot water?”

“With the heat of the sun and enough time. I do not suffer Fire to enter my garden, which is why you are safe here.”

“You have no cook fire?”

“I eat fruit, nuts, vegetables and seeds. These biscuits, for example, are sun-dried.”

“No rice?” Storm stared at the old man in horror.

“Friends bring me steamed rice from time to time.” The old man grinned at her. “When I get the craving. Now, eat! We have not much time.”

“Time for what?”

“We have not met by accident, Storm. The Tortoise asked me to watch over you while you are on Bellum Island. You are in great danger. The Salamander grows impatient for your death.”