Page 26 - UnderEarth

harbour of Bellum Island. One by one, the Yanlin ships passed through the tunnel, making rapid progress. The Wayfarer joined the end of the queue. At last her uncle’s ship burst out of the confining walls of lava and her two sights became one.
“Cracking!” breathed Lake. “No one will have ever seen anything like that before. And look – the grandees have come themselves to see us arrive. It’s the head of the Pact himself! Old Talon, with a welcoming committee.” He gripped her arm, pulled her closer and said in a low voice, “Remember my warning – the old spider is spinning his web. Don’t get caught!”
Storm looked where her uncle was pointing and saw three bright figures waiting at the end of a great pier, surrounded by a sturdy thicket of drab-coloured soldiers, like a herd of dung beetles guarding rainbow moths. The leaders of Bellum Town, the richest and most powerful people in the world, had come to witness the arrival of Yanlin’s new Weather-witch.
She sat at the back of the long rowing boat, behind her uncle, watching Bellum Town grow closer with each heave of the oarsmen. The sun’s heat was already scorching, and she welcomed the spray that splashed over the bow. The Pact leaders, waiting on the pier,
looked like brightly painted dolls.
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