The Lightning Catcher: The Secrets of the Storm Vortex by Anne Cameron Read Free Book Online

of people waiting for entry forms. “Just don’t tell anyone else at Perilous, okay? Everyone already thinks I’m a nerd.”
    They emerged into the sunshine ten minutes later.
    â€œThis is turning out to be a truly excellent morning!” Dougal stuffed the competition entry form into his pocket. “What shall we do next? We could visit the statue of Starling and Perilous, if you want.”
    Angus stood and admired the statue properly for the first time. It towered over everything else in the square, the heads of the early lightning catchers reaching above the roofline of the tallest shops as if studying the weather on the horizon.
    â€œWhy’s there a statue of Starling and Perilous in the middle of Little Frog’s Bottom, anyway?” he asked.
    â€œWell, they’re both pretty important in Imbur Island history, I suppose,” Dougal said with a shrug. “I think the statue’s been here for at least a hundred years. You can climb all the way up to the top and look out through windows over the whole town. Oh, wait, I forgot. It’s usually closed on Tuesdays for cleaning.”
    They meandered instead past the shops closest to Cradget’s, all of which were on Mr. Dewsnap’s forbidden list. At Ballantine’s Bazaar of Fortune-telling there was a window display of half-price crystal balls. Dougal gazed longingly through the open door of the Horrible EndingsBookshop, which smelled like compost. In each of the windows, the same poster stared back at Angus. It was brightly colored with just two tantalizing words in large red letters, “Coming Soon!”
    â€œI wonder what that’s all about,” he said, stopping to inspect one of the posters properly.
    Dougal shrugged. “It’s probably just a sale of meat-eating plants at Brabazon Botanicals or something.”
    â€œBrabazon Botanicals?”
    Dougal turned and pointed to a large imposing building on the far boundary of the square that dwarfed the shops on either side of it. A peaked glass roof had been opened at the top, allowing an interesting assortment of tall trees and palms to burst out into the sunshine, their leaves and fronds rustling gently in the breeze.
    â€œThat’s Brabazon Botanicals,” Dougal said, “and it’s only one of the most hazardous shops in town, but Dad didn’t say anything about steering clear of it!”
    It was like entering an exotic indoor garden. They slipped past a shiny wooden sales counter, crowded with shop assistants, just inside the door and then:
    â€œWhoa!” Angus gasped.
    A raging waterfall cascaded down a fake cliff wall. There were banana trees, long trails of purple ivy, and a steaming pond full of giant, carnivorous water lilies, which snapped at their ankles as they hurried past. It was clear that the plant life on Imbur was far more hazardous, and ravenous, than anything Angus had encountered in Devon. They followed the signs to something called the arboretum and stood among the tall trees and tropical palms that they’d spotted from the other side of the square. The breeze coming through the open glass roof above was cool and refreshing.
    â€œThis place is amazing,” Angus said, catching a brief glimpse of blue sky through the tangled branches overhead.
    â€œDad’s brought me in here loads of times over the summer for manure and plant cuttings,” Dougal said. “I really wanted to take a trip over to the mainland instead, to see Stonehenge. But he’s been too busy writing a new book on the history of Little Frog’s Bottom.”
    â€œYou could come and stay with me in the next holidays, if you want,” Angus said, with a shrug, “as long as you don’t mind being chased around the Windmill by pods or blizzard catchers.”
    â€œSeriously?” Dougal looked thrilled by the idea.
    â€œYeah, you can sleep in my room. There’s loads of space.” Angus grinned, wondering why