Talon smiled, painted eyebrows forming perfect hoops. He rang the silver bell that sat on the table in front of him. At once, servants appeared to whisk away platters of uneaten food and refill cups with tamarind brandy.

“Let us drink to our most honoured guest, friends!” called Talon. “Join us, Storm. We drink to you!” He lifted his cup.

Mer drank, then smiled warmly at her. The Pact leader drained his cup and deposited it on the table, fingers stroking the thin porcelain. Storm thought of the bowl her mother had made for her Choosing gift. It was simpler, less showy, but she preferred it to anything here.

Talon leaned towards her. “I have an offer to make you, Mistress, one which will be of great benefit to both of us. Ladies and gentlemen! Attend me!”

Every eye in the room fastened upon them.

“Mistress Storm,” Talon said in the same official voice. “You are a powerful Weather-witch. The Pact is always on the lookout for opportunity, and we see ways to harness your magic to our mutual benefit. Therefore, we have gathered tonight to offer you a rare – nay, a singular – opportunity.” He paused, glancing around the room.

Talon was making his bid to win her from Yanlin. How could she turn this situation into a means of preventing civil war on the island and stop the Salamander breaking the Balance? The task felt impossible!

Her host waited, but when she said nothing he raised one eyebrow and continued. “As you may know, the Fifteen – the original families – have controlled world trade for countless generations. Never before, in the illustrious history of the Pact, has the opportunity I am about to offer you been granted to an outsider!”

He paused again to watch the effect of his words, but Storm kept her face carefully blank.

“We offer you the chance to become one of us! Full membership in the Pact, for you and your descendants, forever! You will also,” Talon added in a smugly confident voice, “be allowed to have descendants! You would live with us as a girl and woman, not a non-sex. In time, we will find you a suitable life partner.” His eyes flicked to someone in the watching group. Involuntarily, Storm glanced in the same direction.

Almond stood between Mer and Betaan, his arms crossed, an amused expression on his face. But beneath the practised sophistication, Storm saw a need for more power, more wealth – more of everything. So that was it. She repressed a shiver of revulsion. Of course, there were other men and boys on Bellum. Perhaps someone who was kind and funny, like Thorn, although, glancing around the room, she saw little evidence of kindness in the painted faces.