Read Online The Lightning Catcher by Anne Cameron - Free Book Online Page A

her own coat off the ground, and a short round boy with spectacles had been given a pair of extra-large earmuffs—which looked like they’d been made for an Indian elephant.
    â€œGather round quickly, everyone, we haven’t got all morning!” came a loud voice, and Angus saw a tall man waiting for them at the foot of the spiral staircase. Dressed in his own yellow coat and rubber boots, he had a bushy mustache and a single eyebrow. Where the other eyebrow should have been, there was nothing but a shiny pink scar.
    â€œFirst things first,” he announced, smiling genially at them all. “I will collect your signed declaration forms, please.”
    There was a sudden scuffle of feet as everyone tried to hand him a form at once. Angus, at the back of the throng, noticed five impressive lightning bolts pinned to the front of the man’s coat.
    â€œLightning Catcher Oliver Mint’s the name,” the man announced, stuffing the declarations into his pocket, “and I’m here to get you started on your first day at Perilous. So, if you’ll follow me . . .”
    He led them away from the Octagon without any further explanation, then down into a series of long stone tunnels and passageways that crisscrossed Perilous like the rippling veins of a massive stone heart. Some of these tunnels were peppered with locked, rusting doors and dark, mysterious alcoves, while others were completely bare except for a few flickering light fissures, which crackled overhead. None had any windows, and Angus couldn’t help shivering as they plunged deeper and deeper into the dark, twisting labyrinth.
    They finally came to an abrupt halt outside a huge, round, steel-framed door set in the middle of a wall, with what looked like a steering wheel attached to the front of it.
    â€œFirst thing tomorrow morning,” Catcher Mint said as they gathered in front of him, “you will each be assigned to a lightning catcher and begin your training in one of the departments that you visited yesterday.”
    Angus crossed his fingers, hoping he didn’t get assigned to the Lightnarium. Beside him, the boy in the extra-large earmuffs looked faintly sick.
    â€œBefore you begin your training, however, it is crucial that we test your weatherproof clothing for any faults, leaks, or hidden punctures. In a moment, I will be guiding you through the weather tunnel to do just that.” He pointed to the round door behind him. “The tunnel is more commonly used to simulate the difficult and often dangerous weather conditions a lightning catcher may face, while coming to grips with wet sandstorms in the Sahara, for instance, or tackling ice fogs in the frozen north. Normally, you wouldn’t be allowed inside it until you’re a sixth-year lightning cub, but as we have been given special permission to use it by Principal Dark-Angel herself. . . .”
    Angus gulped. Edmund Croxley had said something very similar on his guided tour of the Octagon—just seconds before a storm vacuum had tried to suck the hair off his head.
    â€œNow if you’ll all wait here, I will just make sure the weather tunnelers are ready for us.”
    Catcher Mint opened the round door with a twist and a tug, and before any of the lightning cubs could see what was lurking behind it, he’d pulled himself through and closed the door again with a loud clunk .
    For a few moments, nobody spoke. Then, slowly, trainees all around began tightening their woolly scarves, pulling up their socks inside their boots, and speaking to one another with quiet apprehension. Angus tried to calm the butterflies in his own stomach by glancing around at his fellow lightning cubs for the first time. There were nine others in all. And Angus couldn’t help wondering if any of them had been brought to the Isle of Imbur by a bad-tempered lightning catcher in the middle of the night.
    â€œHello,” a voice suddenly said beside