Talon had targeted her weak spot. She still mourned the family she could never have. But family meant Ma and Minnow, and her memories of Da. It meant Elders like Teanu. Storm remembered the ragged girl who had been caught thieving. Family meant something different here.

“You do not speak.” Talon’s voice was still confident.

Sweat gathered in her armpits, turning them prickly. She saw Mer gazing at her across the table. The other girl’s eyes were fierce with anxiety. Storm felt a surge of gratitude: Mer was worried for her!

“I await your reply.” Patience was ebbing from Talon’s voice.

“My apology. Your generosity stunned me into silence.”

“And does our offer interest you?”

“How could it not interest me? But I cannot make such an important decision without knowing what you want in return. I do not think it is merely the pleasure of my company at dinner.”

Talon’s smile widened. Chuckles of approval circled the room. This was the language they understood. Verbal fencing, bargaining!

“Your presence is a charming addition to our gatherings, of course, but yes. We would expect you to be our Weather-witch and use your magic as we direct.”

“But you don’t have a trading fleet.” Storm stated the obvious. “And your harbour is impervious to attack. Why does Bellum need a Weather-witch?”

“Defence is never to be taken lightly. Even with the lava wall, we can use a powerful witch. Call it insurance.”

Storm just stopped herself rubbing her nose in frustration. “Pretty expensive insurance. What else?”

“There might be other jobs. But those can be discussed as they arise. No need to bother you with details now. Basically, we would expect you to fight for us against enemies of the Pact.”

“Can you be a bit more specific?” Storm asked. “‘Enemies of the Pact’ is a pretty flexible description. Who would I have to fight?”

He shrugged, too casually. “Anyone who threatens us. Like the Drowned Ones, for instance. Their rafts have been spotted in the Inner Sea for the first time in living memory. Or … others.”

Storm’s heart lurched. If the old Earth-witch was right – if the Drowned Ones were already here – then civil war must be imminent. But how would the pirates know that? She thought of Nim, and hatred flared afresh. The Drowned Ones were no strangers to using spies.

“What ‘others’? I won’t agree to anything until I know what I’m up against.”

Grudging respect flared in Talon’s eyes. “You’re right, of course. But you needn’t worry. We simply want a hand dealing with a bit of domestic unrest.”

“And why do you need me? I am a Weather-witch, not a town guard!”

“We have been gathering up troublemakers and n’er-do-wells. Thieves, of course. But also malcontents who stir up unrest. Scum from the lowest dregs of society. In our mercy, we have no wish to execute them. Exile is not … practical. That leaves imprisonment.”