She didn’t understand. “Why would I do that?”
“Just do as I say! Put your foot in my hands and then climb onto my shoulders. That way you’ll be able to climb back up.”
“Okay, but what about you?” she asked.
“Just do as I tell you!” ordered Ravi in a voice that meant he wasn’t going to argue.
Taken by surprise by this new Ravi, Thomasina obeyed without question. He was quite tall, so, after climbing up onto his shoulders, Minerva was able to drag her back up. Minerva gave her such a hug that they ended up falling onto the grass, belly up. It was Thomasina’s turn to be sweaty and out of breath. “Now what?” she asked.
They went back to look over the edge. But at that precise moment, the narrow ledge, which had been supporting the combined weight of Ravi and Thomasina, broke off the cliff face. Minerva and Thomasina closed their eyes as hard as they could.
“Hey, look. I’m still here!” came a faint voice. The two girls opened their eyes again and breathed a sigh of relief. Ravi was now clinging to a tuft of grass that stuck out from among the moss and rocks.
Minerva’s voice was now shaking. “How long can you hold on? Can you stay there until we get someone to help you?”
“Um . . . that depends. How long will you be?”
“To get to the village and back will take at least forty minutes.”
“I can’t hang on here for forty minutes!” Ravi already felt his grip giving way. “Maybe I can hold on for five minutes. There isn’t a stick or something up there you can drag me up with?”
Minerva and Thomasina looked around. All there was on the cliff top was grass and tiny yellow flowers.
“There’s nothing here,” Minerva shouted, poking her head back over the edge.
Ravi tried to stay calm so he wouldn’t frighten her. “Well, maybe I’m done for,” he said with a small but brave smile.
Minerva’s face disappeared again. A minute went by with no sign of either girl. Ravi couldn’t hear anything except the wind whistling in his ears.
Maybe they’ve gone to get help? he thought. Maybe they saw someone. Someone with a stick. Please hurry.
For all that time, Ravi had avoided looking down. He knew that if he did, he’d be finished. But his hand was aching so much that it wouldn’t be long until he’d have to let go. And then . . .
“Can you hang on for another minute or so?” Minerva suddenly cried, her freckled little face framed by a tangle of red hair peeking back over the edge. She smiled encouragingly. “We’ve got an idea.”
Ravi felt a little better. “Okay, but hurry!” He prayed the clump of grass wouldn’t give way. What was this idea they’d come up with? And why was it taking them so long?
At last, he saw something snaking its way down the cliff toward him. It looked like a rope. Where could they have gotten a rope from?! Without thinking, Ravi grabbed it with one hand and then the other, and pulled himself up.
When he got to the top he was very surprised to find the girls shivering in their underwear!
Minerva was a genius! She’d suddenly started tearing off her clothes and told Thomasina to do the same. Then, using the scissors that Thomasina kept in her purse, they’d cut their clothes into strips and tied them together.
Thomasina, who was the tallest and strongest, had then tied one end around her waist. She’d then laid down on the ground with Minerva on top of her, hoping their combined weight would be enough to support Ravi.
After getting over his embarrassment of seeing them like that, Ravi smiled the biggest smile that Minerva had ever seen. He slowly reached into his pocket, pulled something out, and held it toward them. His palm was badly grazed, but sitting in the middle of it were five shiny red berries!
“No way!” Minerva and Thomasina cried at once.
Ravi’s smile grew even wider. “While I was climbing up, I saw them right in front of me, so I grabbed them!” he said. “They must be ripe since I can’t feel anything. No burning.” He looked at his friends with the proud expression of a returning hero.
Thomasina couldn’t resist. “Ravi, you’re fantastic!” she screamed, throwing her arms around him and making him blush as red as a tomato.
That night, two shadows could be seen moving quietly toward Lizard Manor. The moon was a tiny crescent. The wind caressed the grass, and on the chimneys, three owls stood lookout. Their yellow eyes glowed in the darkness.
The biggest of the two shadows made a signal: two long whistles and a short one. Just like they’d agreed. The front door immediately opened a few inches, and a curly head popped out.
“Come in!” Minerva whispered. “Everything’s ready.”
She led the way with a candle. The house was quiet, and there was a strong smell of strawberry jelly in the air. “Mrs. Flopps has just gone to bed,” Minerva whispered. “Did you have any trouble getting out?”
“None at all. I’m an expert at nighttime escapes,” Thomasina said proudly. She was wearing a cape as dark as the night with a hood that hid her blond curls.
“I told my mom that I was having a sleepover at your place,” said Ravi. “She’s happy we’re friends.” Ravi still didn’t think that the recipe would help Minerva find her parents. But after everything that had happened that afternoon, he was starting to think that even the impossible might happen. Anyway, they had to get to the bottom of this once and for all.
They slipped quietly along the hallway. Minerva whispered, “I got some molasses, milk, and eggs.”
“And I brought a snail,” Thomasina said, pulling a small box out from her purse. “I saved it from Angus McAllister, who wants to kill them. He says they ruin his roses!”
Everything was ready in kitchen number three. There was a large bowl on the table. Thomasina read the recipe. “There’s a crescent moon shining through the kitchen window. Perfect.”
“And here are the five lightning-berries,” said Ravi, dropping them into the bowl.
“Three eggs,” Minerva said. She tapped them three times against the edge of the bowl, trying to follow the recipe to the letter. She dropped the egg yolks and whites over the red berries. She then added two pints of molasses while turning the jar to the right. Then, very carefully, she added some milk.
She then started stirring it all with a wooden spoon. After a little while, her nose started itching ever so slightly, just like the recipe said. But maybe that was just the smell of jelly that still hung in the air.
At any rate, Thomasina then very gently placed the snail on the wooden table. It started moving straightaway, leaving a lovely trail of slime behind it. “Instant snail slime!” she cried.
They added it to the mixture and then just stared at it, not knowing what to expect. Maybe Minerva’s parents really would appear in a puff of smoke, just like Ravi had said.
But nothing happened.
They stared and stared at the bowl, willing something to happen, but nothing did. “Let’s wait a bit longer,” suggested Ravi. “Just to be sure.” But he was as disappointed as the others.
They had to face facts: Nothing was going to suddenly appear out of that sticky mess. It didn’t even look good to eat — with or without the snail slime.
Minerva tried to stay optimistic. “Well, we tried. Maybe we didn’t follow the recipe properly or . . .”
“Maybe.” Ravi picked up the recipe and read it through a few more times, frowning. “Do you have a pencil?” he asked Thomasina. She took one out of her purse and handed it to him. He drew a series of arrows on the paper to link the information in parentheses. When he’d finished, he exclaimed, “Wow! They form a message!” He showed it to his friends. “Look!”
They all read it together, “In the kitchen, turn to the right, count to five, tap three times, until your nose itches. Handle with care, and lots of it!”
Ravi looked around. “We’re already in the
kitchen. . . .” Just then he noticed a row of large red tiles that went right around the room about three feet above the floor. He walked out the door then came back in again, stopping in the doorway. He counted five tiles to the right and tapped three times on the fifth one. But nothing happened. His nose certainly wasn’t itchy. “I was wrong,” he muttered.
Then Minerva had an idea. “Maybe this isn’t the right kitchen! Let’s try number two!” They rushed down the hallway, not caring how much noise they made.
Kitchen number two was still filled with smoke from the stove. Ravi followed the instructions again. But again nothing happened. “Let’s try number one!” Minerva whispered.
Kitchen number one was flooded because of a broken pipe. There was a terrible stink of mold in there, and the floor was under two inches of water. Ravi tapped three times on the fifth tile to the right. This sent a small cloud of dust into the air, which made his nose itch. He sneezed. “Hey! It sounds hollow!” he cried. He tried moving the tile and eventually pulled it clean off the wall. Behind it was a small hole. Without hesitation, he stuck his hand inside. “There’s something in here!” He pulled out a small wooden box.
His friends immediately rushed over to him. Minerva held up the candle to see better. It was small and made of dark wood. And it was very old. On the top was a picture of a round tower with some words:
“Ordo Noctuae,” Minerva read. She looked at the others. In the flickering candle light, they looked as confused as she did. “What does that mean?”
“No idea,” said Thomasina. “Come on, Ravi, open it!” she urged. “I’m dying to see what’s inside!”
“You open it, Minerva,” Ravi said, handing her the box. “This is your mystery,” he whispered with an encouraging smile.
Minerva took the box in her shaking hands. She slowly lifted the lid. Inside was what looked like a tiny flute. She picked it up and held it in the palm of her hand. All three just stared at it. There didn’t seem to be anything special about it at all. Minerva turned it over in her hands, then, driven by some irresistible impulse, lifted it to her lips and blew.
She was no musician. She had played on the grand piano in Lizard Manor and soon discovered that she had no ear for music at all. But playing this little flute came naturally to her. She started playing a beautiful melody that surprised them all. Immediately, there was a flutter of wings outside the window. Minerva stopped playing, and everyone just listened as the flapping became louder and louder.
They ran out into the garden to see what was going on. All three were stunned: the sky was full of owls. White and majestic, they were flying this way and that on their huge wings. They seemed magical.
“There must be at least a hundred of them!” cried Ravi in amazement. “What’s going on?”
Minerva looked at the little flute she still held in her hand and smiled. She’d just come up with a brilliant plan to get rid of Daphne and Arthur.
The next day, the sun came out big and bright. Even Ravi, as he was riding to school on his bike, had to admit that it was just as beautiful as the sun in India. It made the grass shine emerald green and lit up the thousands of yellow and pink flowers. The sea glittered turquoise and crystal clear. As Ravi rode, he whistled a tune. A gentle breeze that smelled of salt and spring blew over his face. He sped up and shot like an arrow down the path through the meadows. After everything that had happened, he felt full of energy. He felt . . . well, he felt like a hero in one of Thomasina’s adventure stories! He smiled when a grazing sheep took fright at him darting by. Ravi decided that Cornwall wasn’t so bad after all.
The people in the village were happy to finally see the sun again. They all went out into the streets of Pembrose to chat with neighbors and just enjoy the lovely weather.
Daphne and Arthur were almost back to their normal color after fasting and refusing all the food that Timothy offered them. And, like everyone else, they felt so happy to see the beautiful sun that they decided to take a stroll. “Come along, my dear,” said Arthur lovingly as he helped his wife along. “The lawyer will be here soon. We’ll take possession of the house, tear it down, and build dozens of vacation villas to rent to tourists at ridiculous prices!”
“And we’ll get rid of all those foxes!” Daphne mumbled. Her stomach still did not feel quite right. “And we’ll ship that Minerva off to boarding school!”
But she was forced to stop her daydreams when Minerva herself suddenly appeared in front of them. “Oh . . . hello, my dear!” exclaimed the woman, trying to smile.
Minerva seemed very concerned about the health of her, er, parents. “You look terrible!” she said with pretend concern.
“We’ve certainly felt better,” Daphne muttered.
“Maybe you’re seasick,” Minerva suggested.
“But we haven’t been on a boat, my dear,” Arthur pointed out.
“The food here is disgusting,” Daphne snorted, forgetting to smile for a moment.
“I’m sorry,” Minerva mumbled. “Everyone here just loves Timothy’s cooking.”
“Maybe it was just a little heavy for us city folks,” Arthur said, trying to make Minerva happy. “Too much garlic, possibly. We’re not used to garlic.”
“But we’re much better now, darling,” Daphne piped up.
“That’s good!” exclaimed Minerva. “So, we could have a party to celebrate you coming back! We could have it at Lizard Manor. With all the foxes and Hugo — he’s my badger. And we can have music. I just learned to play the flute. Listen to this.” She pulled the little box out from her pocket, took out the flute, and began to play.
Immediately, dozens upon dozens of owls swooped down from every direction and began circling over their heads, getting closer and closer. And closer and closer. And even closer and closer.
Daphne immediately screamed in terror and, without waiting for her husband, ran to their red car, started the engine, and drove off.
Arthur, after recovering from his astonishment, hotfooted it after her. “Stop, darling! Please wait for me! I want to go, too! Please don’t leave me here!”
But she didn’t stop. She just went faster and faster down the narrow street, which became more and more narrow, until she scraped all the paint off one side of the car. Arthur just kept running after her, screaming, “Daaaarling! Don’t leave me here!”
Minerva stopped playing and put her little flute back in its box. A smile spread across her face. She was very happy. Her plan had worked to perfection. The owls had broken down Arthur’s and Daphne’s last defenses.
One by one, the majestic birds flew away until there wasn’t a single owl left in the sky.
“Extraordinary!” commented Dr. Gerald, who’d watched the whole amazing spectacle unfold along with a group of stunned villagers. “I’ve never seen so many owls in my life. I wonder what brought them here.”
“Maybe they’re migrating,” suggested an old lady loaded down with shopping bags.
“It’s probably to do with climate change,” said an old fisherman thoughtfully.
“Hmm,” said the doctor. “I don’t believe that owls are migratory.” But then he noticed the little box in Minerva’s hand and read the writing on the top,“Ordo Noctuae. That’s Latin.” Dr. Gerald knew a lot of things and was very smart. In fact, everyone in the village came to him if they had a problem to be solved.
“What does it mean?” asked Minerva.
“Well, a rough translation would be, ‘Order of the Owls.’ Noctua is the Latin word for owl. It’s a way of describing the magic of the night,” he said with a wink.
The doctor then walked off to his office. Outside the door, there was already a line of perfectly healthy, elderly patients who, more than anything else, wanted a sympathetic ear to listen to their complaints and gossip. And maybe Orazia, his nurse, would make them all a nice cup of tea.
* * *
The sunse
t that evening was spectacular, filling the sea and sky with broad brushstrokes of red and orange. A few boats bobbed gently in the distance. The coastline with its high granite cliffs was wrapped in a golden glow, while the seagulls floating in the air currents cried for sheer joy.
Thomasina, Ravi, and Minerva were enjoying the spectacle from the catwalk of the lighthouse. Minerva had told her friends everything about the way the owls had swooped down, sending Daphne running for her life. Three times, actually. Ravi and Thomasina never tired of hearing it. Minerva’s plan had worked perfectly!
“I wish I’d been there!” Ravi chuckled.
“I had to do something. Timothy’s food had weakened their defenses, and they were ready for the final blow,” explained Minerva. “But I didn’t want you there, too, since it would only have made them suspicious.”
Thomasina ran her finger over the box. “So, the writing means ‘Order of the Owls’.” Her eyes suddenly lit up. Ravi, who’d seen that light several times over the last few days, was worried. They lit up like that when she was planning some adventure. “Hey, guys!” she said, “Why don’t we form a secret society, a club of our own, and call it the Order of the Owls?”
“The Order of the Owls,” repeated Minerva. “I love it!”
But Thomasina still had that light shining in her eyes, “You do realize that we’ve already completed two missions!”
“Two?” asked Ravi, puzzled.
“Well, we got rid of Arthur and Daphne, and Miss Lavender has decided to take Napoleon on a vacation to Brazil. My mom told me today.”
Minerva couldn’t have been happier. “Yesss! An overseas trip will do her a world of good, too. She always seems so sad and lonely.”
“And Napoleon will learn new words. They might even be polite ones!” said Ravi. All three burst out laughing.
Ravi had to admit that he really liked Thomasina’s idea. After all, he’d done pretty well up on the cliff. He’d even managed to get over his fear of heights. Well, almost.
The Order of the Owls Page 6