Storm stood, just managing to keep her balance as the boat was dragged high on to the shingled beach of the tree-shrouded cove. The Earth-witch had not betrayed her; she would not believe it. Someone had, but not Linnet. There would be time, perhaps, to find out, before…

Save them. Was it even possible? Perhaps she might be strong enough, lucky enough. She could only try. But one thing she would accomplish, no matter what the cost! She would deal with him: the boy who had condemned her mother to death. Dain would be avenged!

Storm stepped out on to the shingled beach, the crying of seagulls in her ears, and walked forward to meet her enemy: Nim, the Drowned One.

30

When Nim was two paces away, Storm stopped walking. She gathered her magic as quietly and invisibly as hatred and shock allowed. Out of the corner of her eyes she saw the other Drowned Ones – more than a dozen of them, bows strung and at the ready, arrows notched and pointed. The Fire-witch was a column of red silk on the periphery. The strength of the woman’s magic – and the force of her hatred – stank like ozone before a lightning storm. Scoundrel’s arms tightened around Storm’s neck, threatened to choke her. Cloud tried to shout something but only spluttered into his gag, his words strangled. Overhead, gulls screamed.

“Hello, Storm.” Nim’s eyes never left her face. He looks older, she thought.

“You’ve had your Choosing. That was the reward your Elders gave you for betraying me.”

He nodded.

“A Child of Fire?”

Nim shook his head. But he did not say which Elemental had Chosen him. Instead, he pointed to the witch guarding Cloud. “We found her in the sea where your whirlwind left her. She was half drowned. We saved her life.”

“I never wanted her death.”

“I believe you. But I doubt you’re glad to see either of us alive. Especially me.”

Storm drew breath, struggling to contain her emotions.

“The Fire-witch told us you would be here.”

Something he had just said was important, but the idea slipped away, like a fish off a hook. She was shaking slightly with the strain of holding in her emotions, her magic. This was it. The moment she had planned, had dreamed of, since she held her dead mother in her arms. Retribution.

He didn’t kill Dain! said her mind-voice. Remember what the young Fire-witch said. The Salamander grows fat on hatred!

“My mother is dead because of you.” Her voice grated like stone. She stared at Nim, heart heavy with hate.

He nodded. His eyes brightened, as though with emotion.

Don’t believe it! Such a liar. He had tricked her too many times. She couldn’t trust him. Never again.