The Storm Tower Thief
Page 10
“For the next few months I will be teaching you the basics of cold-weather survival,” Jeremius continued. “That means that you will be learning how to keep your wits about you in a blizzard, how to build a fire in subzero temperatures, how to put up a tent in the quickest time possible, and what to do if you suddenly find yourself adrift on an iceberg.”
Angus swallowed a lump in his throat, wondering if there were any icebergs in the Rotundra.
“You will use every single one of these skills as fully qualified lightning catchers, when you could be dropped at a moment’s notice into the middle of a blinding blizzard, stranded for days in an Icelandic ice cave, or sent to tackle an infestation of Arctic shimmer sharks.”
Angus shot a sideways glance at Dougal.
“There are avalanches, ice whirls, and sudden spontaneous snow swamps to deal with, as well as bouts of snow sickness and frost fright. It is thrilling, dangerous, demanding work. And none of it can be undertaken without the proper training. That training begins here, with me, in this Rotundra.”
Dougal blanched and wobbled on his feet, looking faint. Indigo’s eyes were gleaming with excitement.
“The glass walls of the Rotundra have been infused with tiny particles of a special coolant that keeps the temperature below freezing at all times, even in the height of summer. This creates a sealed weather system, which follows a predictable pattern on a seven-day cycle, making it perfect for the training you are about to begin.”
Angus noticed a tight knot of angry-looking clouds lurking at the far end of the Rotundra, just beneath the glass roof. They definitely hadn’t been there five minutes before.
“Before we go any further, I need to make sure everyone knows where the emergency exit is.” Jeremius pointed to the back wall in the distance, where a green neon sign shone over a door. Every lightning cub turned to look anxiously. “Although the weather inside the Rotundra is controlled, it can still be a dangerous environment to work in. So if an emergency should occur, a passageway on the other side of that exit will take you safely back to the changing rooms. Now, each of you should take one of these storm timetables and keep it with you at all times during your survival lessons.” Jeremius took a handful of slim, folded storm schedules from his pocket and passed them around.
Angus opened his carefully and studied it. His eye was instantly drawn to something called an abominable snowstorm, which took place every Friday at three o’clock in the afternoon. There was also a daily blizzard that occurred at 6 P.M. and lasted for precisely one hour and seventeen minutes. And . . . he checked his watch. It was now 10:35 A.M. According to his new timetable, in ten minutes’ time, they would all be engulfed by something called a snow parade.
“You will also need to study this excellent book,” Jeremius said, handing out pocket-size volumes of something called The Subzero Survival Guide, by Isadora Sleet. It had a sleek waterproof cover that rustled like a shower curtain when Angus opened it. Inside, there were snow identification charts and ice thickness guides, as well as whole sections on essential survival tips that made his stomach flip over with sudden nerves.
“Take extremely good care of this book,” Jeremius said, holding his own battered copy high above his head, where they all could see it. “Do not drop it, lose it in a snowdrift, or use it to light campfires. The information inside this survival guide has saved my life on three separate occasions.”
Angus glanced at Indigo and Dougal, who were both staring back at him with wide-eyed astonishment.
“I want all of you to read the first three chapters before our next lesson. Now, if you’ll follow me, we’ll get started straightaway.”
He slipped his survival guide safely back into his pocket and marched them off deeper into the Rotundra.
“All right, Agnes?” Pixie Vellum said as she and Percival barged past. “Found any more snowstorms in your bedroom lately?”
Percival sniggered.
“Get lost, Pixie!” Dougal said. “Your ugly face is making my eyeballs ache.”
Angus grinned. Indigo’s eyes crinkled at the corners. Pixie scowled and stomped off in a huff, with Percival trailing behind her.
Jeremius took them through the snow until they reached a set of stone steps, concealed beneath a large fake snowman, that led down into a small, round, cavelike room underground. On the far side, Angus spotted another emergency exit tunnel. And a clear glass dome was set into the stone ceiling, directly above their heads, poking back up into the Rotundra like a bubble. It reminded Angus of an aquarium he’d once visited with Uncle Max. Several lightning catchers, armed with ice scrapers and shovels, were attempting to clear a thick covering of hard snow from the outside surface.
“Every Monday, at ten forty-five A.M., a snow parade falls inside the Rotundra,” Jeremius explained, gathering them all beneath the dome. “It contains some of the most treacherous and deadly types of snow found on this planet. We shall be observing it today from the safety of the snow dome.”
“D-deadly?” Dougal gulped, looking faintly sick.
Angus stared at his weather watch, counting down the last few remaining seconds until . . . five, four, three, two, one.
He gazed up at the snow dome, holding his breath. And suddenly, small flecks of jagged ice were being driven so violently against the glass that he was sure it was about to shatter.
“This is a glacial blizzard, or glizzard,” Jeremius explained as the wind began to howl. “Strong winds loosen hardened specks of snow and ice from the surface of a glacier, which in blizzard conditions can then tear exposed skin to shreds in a matter of seconds.”
The glizzard stopped just as suddenly as it had started. Then the sky above darkened, and black snow began to fall, covering the dome in a patchwork of ebony-colored flakes. Angus stared in wonder. It was as if little specks of the night sky had suddenly come adrift.
“Dark snow showers are extremely rare and only occur in the most isolated mountain ranges of the world,” Jeremius told them as they gazed at the incredible sight. “They can cause instant disorientation and, in exceptional cases, temporary snow blindness.”
The sinister snow only stopped falling when the entire glass dome had been completely blacked out. It was followed by a shower of snowflakes the size of handkerchiefs and a spectacular display of snowbows—tiny frosted rainbows that sparkled and dazzled above them.
“Right, who can tell me what is coming next?” Jeremius said, looking around at the class hopefully.
Dougal was already flicking through the survival guide, searching for clues. Angus quickly checked his weather watch, the surface of which had now gone strangely blurry. The numbers on the clockface were jumping and dancing around in a very odd fashion. He was just about to ask Indigo if hers was behaving in the same way when he felt it.
The ground shuddered powerfully beneath their feet, causing both the Vellum twins to lose their balance and stumble.
“What’s going on?” Violet Quinn whimpered, clinging tightly to Millicent Nichols.
The air quivered; the snow dome shook.
CRACK!
“Oh, no!” Dougal gasped, looking petrified. “It’s a frost quake!”
“Correct, Mr. Dewsnap.” Jeremius smiled as the ground continued to tremble. “Frost quakes are caused by a sudden freezing of the ground, right down to the bedrock. Moisture already contained within the rock freezes and expands, eventually causing it to crack in an explosive way. It is this rocky blowout that causes the ground to shake. And frost quakes frequently happen during the long winter months on Imbur.”
The frost quake slowly subsided, and there was a momentary pause in the weather.
“How long does this stupid storm go on for?” Dougal asked, his voice shaking with nervousness.
Angus was just about to check his timetable for details, when—
BOOM!
Something large and white came hurtling out of the sky and smashed into the glass above their heads with the force of a small cannonball.
But Angus was no longer listening to his uncle. The hairs had suddenly risen on the back of his neck. There was a strong metallic taste in his mouth, as if he’d just been chewing on a packet of rusty nails and—
BANG!
He staggered backward as his own personal weather warning burst before his eyes. The fire dragon shimmered, a brilliant, blazing sign of danger that burned itself into his retinas like a fireball. And he knew suddenly that danger was hurtling toward them, that the next snow bomb would be bigger and harder than all the rest, that it would come crashing straight through the dome, that it would bury him, Indigo, and Dougal—the only lightning cubs standing in its path—in lethal shards of glass and hardened snow. There was no time to think.
With one hand he grabbed Dougal’s hood and dragged him clear of the dome, shoving Indigo roughly away from it with his other hand as the bubble above their heads shattered.
CRACK!
A huge snow bomb hurtled through the gaping hole, smashing into the floor of the cave with the force of a frozen meteor. Jagged glass and ice exploded in every direction, muffling every scream, stopping every scramble for safety in its tracks. Thick clumps of heavy snow began to fall on top of Angus, smothering his face, arms, and legs in a terrifying blanket of white, making it impossible to breathe, impossible to move even the smallest joint of his finger. And then a suffocating silence descended.
“Angus!” There were distant sounds of digging, a cold blast of icy air on his face, and Jeremius broke through the snow.
“Are you all right?” he asked anxiously, dragging Angus back onto his feet, brushing the snow off his coat.
Angus took a deep gulp of air and nodded. “I—I think so.”
His neck felt stiff and sore; his legs had jellified, making it exceedingly difficult not to sway on the spot. Dougal was standing beside him, whiter than the remains of the snow bomb. Indigo was holding up her chin bravely, apparently determined not to show how frightened she’d been. The rest of the lightning cubs were still huddled together by the emergency exit tunnel, shaking.
“All three of you have had a very lucky escape,” Jeremius said, checking Angus over for signs of injury. “I’ve seen snow bombs half that size break bones and smother ice bears. We need to get everyone out of here as quickly as possible. Gudgeon will take you back up to the Exploratorium.” Jeremius nodded at the gruff lightning catcher, who was already organizing the other cubs. “And I need to find out how that snow bomb broke through the glass dome.”
“Come on, quickly now!” Gudgeon opened the steel safety door with a twist and a tug. He hurried everyone into the winding escape tunnel beyond and straight back to the changing rooms before Angus could even scrape the snow out of his ears.
News of the shattered snow dome spread like a swarm of book fleas. All survival lessons were temporarily suspended while the damage was repaired and a small team of cold-weather experts was sent to investigate the remains of the giant snow bomb. Millicent Nichols, Violet Quinn, and Nigel Ridgely gave long, animated accounts of the hair-raising incident to anyone who asked, leaving Angus, Dougal, and Indigo free to discuss it in private.
“Just for once it would be nice to learn something that didn’t involve a high risk of death,” Dougal said, demolishing a large plate of ham sandwiches in the kitchens two days after the frightening incident. “I thought that snow bomb was going to bury us alive.”
“Oh, don’t!” Indigo shivered beside him. “If it hadn’t been for Angus and his fire dragon, I mean, if he hadn’t pushed us out of the way . . .” She turned to him with a watery smile.
Angus stared down at his own lunch, embarrassed. He’d found the reappearance of the fire dragon extremely unsettling. It was the first time he’d seen it in months. He’d forgotten the powerful effect it had on his body, setting every nerve and fiber tingling with fire. But at the same time, he was highly relieved that they’d all escaped without broken bones, or worse. And he now had very mixed feelings about the whole episode.
His uncle had come to find them two hours after the terrifying event, to check that none of them was suffering from snow shock. But they’d seen very little of him since. Luckily, none of the other lightning catchers had shown the slightest interest in grilling Angus about the details. And it seemed that in the chaos and confusion, nobody had noticed him dragging Indigo and Dougal to safety seconds before the snow bomb actually struck.
Over the next week life at the Exploratorium slowly returned to normal, and all talk turned to the news that Catcher Trollworthy had been accidentally sucked into a colossal storm funnel, where she’d then been wedged for several hours. Angus finally turned his full attention back to the Farew’s qube. They were still no closer to cracking it. For several days he’d even considered asking Jeremius for help. But the doubts he had about his newfound uncle refused to disappear, and after several long discussions with Indigo and Dougal on the subject, he’d decided against it.
“We’ve been going about this all wrong,” Dougal announced one evening as they sat in the Pigsty with the frustrating qube. He scrunched up the large sheet of paper he’d been scribbling ideas on and lobbed it over his head into the fire. “We’ve been trying out all sorts of random symbols and combinations, but your mum and dad must have picked a password that means something to them, something important. So . . .” He turned to Angus, looking expectant, pencil poised above a fresh sheet of paper. “Tell me everything you know about your mum and dad!”
“But I don’t know anything about them,” Angus said automatically. “I thought they worked in a boring office for years, remember?”
“Yes, but they don’t spend their whole lives at work, do they?” Indigo pointed out. “You must know other things about them, like your mum’s favorite color?”
“Oh, um . . .” Angus stared around the room, racking his brains. But the truth was, it had been so long since he’d seen them that little details had started to leak out of his head. “Yellow!” he said, suddenly remembering the color of his mum’s favorite sundress. “She also loves banoffee pie,” he added.
“Excellent!” Dougal said, scribbling frantically. “We need loads more stuff like that. With any luck, they might have used something soppy for the password, like the year they got married or the name of your dad’s first pet rock. And if they have”—he looked up, grinning at them—“we’ll have this qube cracked by the end of the week!”
Meanwhile, in the research department, Catcher Grimble continued to find more booby-trapped books for them to tackle. And a sudden buildup of ice on the inside of the ornate glass-and-steel weather bubbles meant that all lightning cubs were being sent to help scrape the worst of it off the windows almost every other day.
“If this weather carries on for much longer, the whole of Perilous will be frozen solid,” Dougal said at the end of a particularly strenuous ice-scraping session. They were now heading down to the lightning cubs’ living quarters. There was just enough time to change their wet socks before lunch.
“Yeah, I know,” Angus said. “It’s almost as if— Oh no, not again!”
“What?”
“It’s my door; it won’t open.” He gave it a hard shove with his shoulder. “It’s stuck, exactly like the last time.”
For several minutes they pushed, kicked, and rattled the d
oor, until it finally burst open and an eerie coldness swept over them.
Angus peered inside. For the second time in two weeks, his bedroom was covered in glittering frost and snow. This time, thankfully, at least some parts of his room had escaped the force of the storm globe and remained unfrozen. The floor, however, was covered with the same gritty ice particles that they’d discovered the last time.
“I can’t believe Vellum’s done it again!” Dougal said, seething. He took a tentative step into the room.
“Watch out!” Angus warned, dragging him back by his sweater as a shower of lethal icicles fell from the ledge above the door. They shattered inches from where Dougal had just been standing, scattering sharp splinters across the floor.
Dougal gulped, checking himself for injuries. “What’s Vellum playing at? I could have been killed!”
“There’s no way he’s getting away with this twice!” Angus fumed. “I’m going straight up to Dark-Angel before the evidence melts!”
But as soon as he’d said the words out loud, he knew that this time, neither of the twins could have done it. His room had been perfectly normal when he’d left it that morning. He’d been one of the last trainees to enter the weather bubble. And both the Vellums had been present the entire morning. He stared at the frozen clothes on his floor, confused. If Percival Vellum hadn’t frozen his room, who had?
“Angus is right,” Indigo said. “Percival couldn’t have had anything to do with it this time, could he?”
It took Angus five minutes to force his window open, and the three of them were now scooping the worst of the sticky snow and ice out into the open air, before Catcher Sparks got wind of a second catastrophe.
“You don’t think it could have anything to do with Dankhart, do you?” Indigo continued. “I mean, we already know he’s trying to cause problems with the icicle storms.”
Dougal snorted. “Listen, if your dear old uncle Scabby really had been in Angus’s room—”