He just looked at her, then licked his lips. Sighed. “Teanu said you’d be loyal, but … she’s never met Talon. He runs the place, and he’s sly, even for a Bellumer. So I’m warning you: don’t trust him. Don’t trust a one of them. Remember who you are, Storm. Remember Minnow and Dain.”

It felt like he had slapped her. After a while she said, “I’m not likely to forget them.”

One five-day later, they arrived at the centre of the Inner Sea: Bellum Island. Every crew member not actively sailing the ship had gathered on deck. The winds were against them so, at her uncle’s request, Storm had magicked a northerly to blow the fleet swiftly over this last leg of their journey. To her relief, her Air-magic, always more reliable than Water, had worked predictably. Now she stood beside Lake and watched the most famous island of them all turn from a faint smudge on the horizon into solid land.

Land, but unlike any island Storm had ever seen. Instead of cliffs, beaches and shoaling rocks, Storm saw a wall of solid lava rising sheer out of the sea. The cliff was the reddish-black colour of burnt grain, and it loomed higher the closer they got until it was taller than two ships stacked one atop the other.

“Ease the northerly!” ordered Lake. “Then a gentle easterly, to help us circumnavigate to starboard.”

Storm was full of questions, but she pushed them from her mind for the moment and concentrated on shifting the direction of her wind. What if her magic failed again?

Worrying won’t help! snapped her mind-voice.

One by one, the Wayfarer in the lead, Yanlin’s fleet veered right and began to sail around the enormous cliff encircling Bellum Island.

Storm darted a glance at her uncle. Lake was frowning in concentration as he adjusted the tiller with small, precise movements, keeping the ship in a channel of deep water between the wall and a string of dangerous-looking rocks to their right. She bit her lip, her forehead beading with sweat as she struggled to keep her wind soft and steady. Gentle magic was always the hardest! Behind them, the rest of the fleet followed in their wake, tracing a slow and treacherous path around the island.

Is this place nothing but a lump of lava? Storm wondered. Is the town perched on the top of the cliff like a gull in its nest? Where is the harbour? But she didn’t dare interrupt her uncle’s concentration to ask. Without warning, a trio of three sleek harrier ships appeared in front of them, apparently popping out of solid rock. A dark line appeared in the lava wall, gradually widening to form an opening. The ships had emerged from a tunnel in the lava cliff!