“But you’re one of ‘them’.” Except it was obvious that Mer wasn’t. She was seeing the real Mer for the first time – and this stranger was full of anger, even hatred. Hatred of the Pact and anyone who might help them. But why?

Mer frowned. Storm could see her mind whirring. At last the older girl said, in a low voice, “We cannot talk in this house. There are eager ears everywhere. That brat could burst in here at any moment. She despises you, you know. Calls you ‘The Bumpkin’. She’s jealous, of course. She wants Almond for her consort when Talon is dead and she’s running things!”

Storm already knew Betaan’s true feelings, and right now they didn’t matter. This was her chance! “I have no intention of helping the Pact. I had to stall for time. You’re right – we can’t talk here. Help me get out of this house unseen, and you can tell me why you hate them so much.”

Mer watched her through narrowed eyes. At last she nodded. “I must go. Talon’s servants count people in and out of this house. Expect me after moonrise.”

“Expect you where?”

“Just be ready!” With a last, calculating glance, Mer stalked from the room. Storm listened to the soft thud of her bedroom door closing and wondered what had just happened, and whether she was wise to trust the enigmatic Mer to lead her into the night and the unknown danger that was almost certainly waiting there.

18

Storm sat cross-legged on her bed in the dark time between sunset and moonrise, listening to Scoundrel pad back and forth across the floor. The cling-monkey was muttering under his breath. After Mer had left, he had leapt on to her shoulder and began to scold, with much moaning and chittering of teeth. Scoundrel had even pulled her hair for emphasis until she gently set him on the ground.

“No point in being cross with me! I have to escape tonight and Mer is my best chance.”

The cling-monkey snorted derisively. Storm decided to ignore him: she was nervous enough already. And what did a monkey know, after all?

The wait in darkness seemed endless, but at last a cool light silvered the window, waxing stronger until Scoundrel’s shadow followed him as he paced back and forth across the room.

Storm clapped her hand over her mouth, stifling a cry. Mer loomed over her, her face merely two glinting eyes in the dimness. She had let herself into the room without making any noise.

“Follow me.” The whispered words were a command. Mouth dry, Storm rose to her feet, gesturing for Scoundrel to follow. The monkey showed his teeth in a ferocious grimace, but obeyed.

Mer led her through long, confusing corridors, up winding stairs and out a narrow attic window on to a rickety wooden parapet at the top of the house.