Free The Lightning Catcher: The Secrets of the Storm Vortex by Anne Cameron Page B

usually make any noise except when you’re trying to—”
    Ping!
    Dougal’s face blanched as the scare-me-not suddenly began to shake and vibrate.
    â€œWhat’s happening?” Indigo asked, scooting her chair away from it.
    â€œI think it’s about to self-destruct! They only start to shake when your time is—”
    P-ting! P-ting! P-ting!
    â€œLook out!” Dougal dropped the scare-me-not and dived under the table for cover. Angus leaped out of his chair, dragging Indigo away from the puzzle, which was now shaking so violently that it rocked the whole table back and forth.
    BANG!
    The puzzle finally ruptured, bursting apart in a spectacular shower of frazzled fragments, which then drifted tothe floor, smoldering. Several lightning cubs sitting close by yelped with surprise and stood up for a better look.
    â€œWhoa!” Dougal scrambled out from under the table as soon as it was safe. “When they say these puzzles self-destruct, they really mean it.”
    â€œThere’s nothing left except a scorch mark,” Angus said, poking at the blackened table with his finger.
    He quickly decided to lock his own scare-me-not puzzle in an empty drawer, where it couldn’t destroy his other possessions.

   5   
NIGHT OWLS WITH BEASTLY WIZ
    A ngus was woken the following morning by the sound of a clanging bell.
    â€œWhashappning?” He sat bolt upright in bed, wondering if Perilous was on fire. A few seconds later, however, the noise stopped abruptly.
    Angus yawned and stumbled out of bed, remembering that this was the first day of a brand-new term. He found some clean socks and pulled on his gray uniform, still feeling extremely sleepy. Then he grabbed his yellow weatherproof coat, just in case he was about to be thrust into a rain-filled weather tunnel, and stuck his head out into the curved hallway.
    The door to the girls’ half of the lightning cubs’ living quarters was already open. Georgina Fox, Violet Quinn, and Millicent Nichols were giggling over the pages of a magazine. Juliana Jessop, a bossy older lightning cub, was talking loudly with a group of friends. Theodore Twill was encouraging his pet lightning moth to circle over the heads of some worried-looking third years. There also seemed to be a small number of other lightning cubs whom Angus didn’t recognize, huddled together in a tight knot. Their weatherproof coats were far too long for their short legs.
    â€œFirst years,” Nicholas Grubb said loudly, nodding toward the frightened group, his sandy hair falling over his eyes. “Catcher Mint’s about to take them through the weather tunnel to see if any of them come out the other end alive. Personally, I don’t fancy their chances if they come up against a fognado.”
    Several of the first years squealed, looking utterly petrified. But Angus was staring at Nicholas Grubb with a dull thought now throbbing at the back of his brain.
    â€œHang on a minute. If they’re first years, that must mean me, Dougal, and Indigo—”
    â€œâ€”are all second years now. Congratulations!” Nicholas thumped him hard on the shoulder. “It’s all downhill from here, until you reach your fifth year, of course, and then you get special study lessons where you can lark about with your mates in the seniors’ sitting room. I can’t wait! See you later.” And he wandered off to talk to Kelvin Strumble and Joshua Follifoot, two of his best friends.
    Angus had spent the previous evening with Dougal and Indigo in the Pigsty, a tiny private sitting room squashed between his room and Dougal’s, discussing the weather vortex. The fact that they had now made it through a whole year at Perilous and were about to embark upon their second had never entered the conversation.
    He made his way through the growing crowd in the hallway to share this startling piece of information with Dougal, who was balancing on one