The City of Lizards Read online

  Table of Contents

  Cover

  Title Page

  PEMBROSE AND ITS SURROUNDINGS

  WHAT’S HAPPENED SO FAR

  Chapter 1: TERROR OF THE SEAS

  Chapter 2: A MYSTERY TOO MANY

  Chapter 3: CORNWALL’S TERROR

  Chapter 4: VEGETABLE SOUP AND SLIMY MAGGOTS

  Chapter 5: NEVER GO ON AN ADVENTURE ALONE!

  Chapter 6: OUT OF THE FRYING PAN, INTO THE FIRE

  Chapter 7: A FEARLESS KNIGHT

  Chapter 8: CITY OF THE RAVAGERS

  Chapter 9: TWO EXTRA LARGE FRIENDS!

  Chapter 10: THE DRAGON DARE

  About the Author

  About the Illustrator

  Find out more about Minerva Mint

  Copyright

  Back Cover

  WHAT’S HAPPENED SO FAR …

  Minerva Mint is a nine-year-old girl living in Lizard Manor, atop Admiral Rock, in Cornwall, England. She lives with fourteen snowy owls, six foxes, and a badger named Hugo. She also shares her home with old Mrs. Flopps, the kind woman who found her in a bag at Victoria station in London when she was just a few months old.

  Minerva is determined to find out what happened to her parents, but she only has a few clues to go on. The following items were left alongside her in the bag: a volume from the Universal Encyclopedia with a puzzle written on the first page (“Count the letters of Blue Tiger”); an envelope addressed to someone named Septimus Hodge, who actually does not exist; and the deed to the manor in Cornwall. For nine years, Minerva tried to unravel the mystery by herself, but now she finally has help: her friends Ravi and Thomasina.

  The three friends have found a mysterious box containing a small flute. When the flute is played, dozens of snowy owls gather together. The words Ordo Noctuae are engraved on the box’s lid. This translates to The Order of the Owl, which has become the name of their secret club. They even have a secret headquarters, Owl Tower, and an important mission: to solve the mystery of Minerva’s origins.

  The Order of the Owls have already discovered something very important: Minerva’s ancestor was a member of the Ravagers of the Sea, a gang of ruthless pirates that used to wreak havoc on the coasts of Cornwall centuries ago. That means that she is entitled to part of their enormous treasure!

  If only they could find it …

  I can’t miss a chance like this! Minerva thought. It’s much too good!

  Silent as a fox, she laid her bicycle on the ground and crouched near a bush of blossoming honeysuckle. She took her slingshot out of her pocket and poised for action.

  The O’Sullivans’ small van was parked in their driveway. The family was about to leave for summer vacation. They were all in the van, including William the Conqueror, the vicious dog that was slobbering in the backseat. The only one still missing was …

  “GILBERT!” Mrs. O’Sullivan yelled. “If you’re not here in one minute, we’re gonna leave without you!” she threatened, revving the engine and putting the car in gear.

  Minerva pulled back the band of the slingshot and smirked. Gilbert O’Sullivan was the leader of a gang of bullies that terrorized all the children in the area. It was time for some payback.

  “Jeez … I’m coming!” Gilbert snorted, trudging toward the van. He was covered in sweat and was carrying a bunch of tennis rackets. He bent down to put them in the trunk.

  “Attaboy! That’s it, don’t move,” Minerva whispered, closing one eye. “A perfect target …” She took aim and … “Bullseye!” she cheered.

  An acorn hit Gilbert’s bottom with a dry whacking sound.

  “Oww!” the boy yelped.

  “Gilbert, get in the car NOW!” his father ordered. “We’re running late.”

  “But Daaad …” The boy was rubbing his aching bottom when a second bullet hit him smack-dab on the nose.

  “Ouch!” Gilbert yelled, scowling and searching for his tormentor.

  Just then, the van started moving, and he could do nothing but jump in, without knowing who had dared to hit him. He did, however, have a suspect in mind. As a matter of fact …

  “Enjoy your trip, Gilbert!” Minerva shouted, bouncing out from behind the bush the exact same moment the van pulled into the main road.

  “Minerva Mint!” the boy roared. “I knew it was you!”

  Minerva waved with the hand holding the slingshot. “You know, I was feeling a bit rusty and thought I’d get some practice. Thanks for volunteering as a target!” she said, taking a bow. “Come back soon! I get bored when you’re not around.”

  “I’ll get you for this next time … I … I …” Gilbert bellowed. But the van disappeared round a curve, and his threats faded in the wind.

  With a chuckle, Minerva put the slingshot away. She had made the handy thing herself, and it had never missed a shot so far.

  To limber up after her victory, she did a couple of cartwheels and some leaps.

  “Now that’s the perfect way to celebrate the beginning of the summer!” she exclaimed, pausing to take a breath. Then she did one last cartwheel, just to round it all off.

  Truth be told, there was nothing more exciting than the beginning of the summer break. It made Minerva feel like singing, dancing, doing a million cartwheels … even if she did not actually go to school. However, her friends Ravi and Thomasina did, and from that day on, she was going to have them all to herself. And that was a good reason to celebrate!

  Minerva was supposed to meet them downtown in front of the post office on Plum Tree Avenue. Their plan was to buy a bunch of delicious things to eat and spend the whole afternoon at their secret hideout in the moorland.

  What a perfect plan! Minerva thought, jumping on her bicycle and zipping along the path that led to Pembrose. Her red curls danced in the wind, and she yelled, “Out of my way!” just in case some unfortunate fellow happened to be standing in her path.

  * * *

  Pembrose was a tiny village, neatly nestled into a crystal clear bay dotted with toy-sized fishing boats. Smoky gray seals lazed in the sun, while squeaking puffins and seagulls circled the harbor. Charming cottages, so close together that they looked like sardines in a box, lined the steep cobbled streets that rose from the ocean.

  Tourists swarmed to the sleepy village in July. That year, Merlin’s book of prophecies had been discovered nearby. It was now kept at the little museum by the harbor, and the number of visitors had skyrocketed as a result. Spotting tourists was an easy task: all you had to do was look for the cameras and the noses, which were reddened and a little burned by the sun that had been shining brightly in the clear blue sky for days.

  Because of the large amount of tourists, the mayor had closed the city center off to cars. Built hundreds of years before, its narrow streets were meant for pack mule transport. If they were carrying heavy bags, the tourists could always ask for a ride from Lola, a laid-back pinto horse that pulled a small wagon driven by Timothy, the shy owner of the Fishbone Inn, the only hotel and restaurant in the village.

  “Out of my way!” Minerva yelled, shooting like a bullet down Plum Tree Avenue. She was not very good at slowing down.

  Some of the more athletic tourists managed to get out of her way, but in order to avoid a group of people gathered in front of the post office, she had to swerve wildly. Luckily for her, she ended up in a heap of hay bales outside the Fishbone Inn.

  I really need to work on my technique, Minerva thought, lying spread eagle on the hay. “Um, hi Lola,” she said to the horse that was carefully looking at her with big hazelnut eyes. “I’m really sorry I messed up your lunch,” Minerva apologized.

&
nbsp; Ravi’s and Thomasina’s faces popped up next to Lola’s muzzle. “Minerva, are you all right?” they asked with worry. “Did you break anything?”

  Minerva smiled. “Never been better!” she answered. And to prove that she was telling the truth, she immediately jumped to her feet.

  To her great surprise, she realized that the whole village had witnessed her “accident.” There was Timothy and Lola the horse, the two Bartholomew sisters, the local police officer Oliver, Ravi’s mother (who ran the post office), Doctor Gerald, and the old vicar Father Trout, plus a bunch of old fishermen and spinsters of varying ages, who made up the vast majority of Pembrose’s population.

  Oh boy, I’m in trouble now! Minerva thought, glancing worringly at Oliver. The officer had already complained about her reckless riding. He had even called her “public enemy” once.

  However, no one paid any attention to her. It seemed like they were in the middle of an important discussion.

  “What are all these people doing here?” Minerva whispered to her friends.

  Thomasina whispered back, “There’s a mystery!”

  Minerva’s freckled face brightened. “Really?”

  “Well, we still don’t know if it’s a real mystery,” Ravi added.

  Thomasina looked perfect in her school uniform, which looked awful on any other schoolgirl. Her soft blond curls were held together by a hairband, and her patent leather shoes were spotless. But there was very little grace in the way she elbowed Ravi. “Aw, shush! Don’t spoil it for everyone as usual!” she snapped.

  He was just about to snap back when loud voices coming from the little crowd caught his attention.

  “It’s the third night in a row that she ripped up my nets!” an old sailor yelled.

  “Ours too!” chimed a group of fishermen.

  “I saw something in the water,” said Joe, the museum guard. “A dark shape. It was huge …”

  “I saw it too!” Oliver cried. “While I was on the beat out by the harbor. There was something huge, something monstrous …”

  “That’s the Terror of the Seas!” old Ms. Mackerel cried. “What else could be wandering about out there at night in the open water?”

  Everyone’s face turned pale.

  “But … that’s a sign of great misfortune,” one of the sailors mumbled, voicing everybody else’s fears. The people from Pembrose were very superstitious.

  “Aye,” Mr. Herring, the retired commodore, said in a grim tone. “Last time it showed up in Cornwall, all the fish died, and the nets went empty for years.”

  “Oh, come on! There’s surely another reasonable explanation.” Doctor Gerald’s voice cut clear though the chatter. The town doctor was a man of great wisdom, and in addition to relying on him for both real and imaginary ailments, the people from Pembrose held his opinion in high regard.

  Minerva, Ravi, and Thomasina eagerly listened to every single word. But they were suddenly distracted by something dark and furry jumping on them and pushing them down.

  “Pendragon!” Ravi cried.

  The dog started licking his face and then did the same to the two girls.

  “Excuse him, he’s very happy to see you,” a gentle voice said.

  The three kids’ eyes rose and set on a porcelain white face and two eyes that were as blue as the water of a moor pond.

  “Agatha!” they shouted in unison.

  “Be a nice boy, Pendragon. Let them breathe at least,” the young woman told the dog. With a gentle movement, she took him and picked him up. “Hello, children. It’s been a long time, hasn’t it?” She smiled, and her face lit up with beauty. “I came down to buy some thread for my needlework, but I wasn’t expecting to find the whole town here.” She sighed, looking around.

  Some of the people saw her and took a couple of steps back. Others glanced nervously at her.

  Agatha Willow, the rumored witch of Bodmin Heath Moor, was not very popular in Pembrose. So she chose to live all alone in a cottage out by Alder Swamp, where she mixed medicines from the wild plants that grew all around.

  “Agatha, there’s a mystery!” Minerva said, too excited to give their friend a proper greeting.

  “Something called the Terror of the Seas has been ripping the sailors’ nets apart,” Thomasina added.

  “Do you know anything about it?” Ravi asked.

  Agatha had already helped them solve another mystery. They had discovered Merlin’s Cave, thanks to her.

  “Does the Terror of the Seas really exist?” Minerva added.

  Agatha sighed. “Children, do you remember when I told you old legends are best left alone?”

  “Yes, but when we didn’t listen, we found Merlin’s Book of Prophecies!” Minerva promptly replied.

  Agatha burst into laughter. The Order of the Owls wouldn’t give up and would learn everything about the Terror of the Seas, with or without her.

  “All right,” she gave in. “I’ll tell you what I know, but I need a favor in return. Would you mind looking after Pendragon for a couple of days?” she asked, stroking the dog’s furry head. “Tristam and I are going to look at a castle in Scotland, and I can’t take Pendragon with me.”

  Tristam was the young archaeologist who, just a month earlier, had caused quite a fuss in the village when he claimed that Merlin’s Cave did not exist, only to change his mind shortly after. His change of heart was in no small part due to the beauty of the witch from the moor.

  “It’s a deal!” Ravi said, immediately pulling the dog into his lap. Pendragon gleefully lapped the boy’s face.

  “Thank you.” Agatha smiled. “I’m warning you, though …” Her blue eyes turned somber. “If it really is the Terror of the Seas … no one will stand a chance.”

  Three bicycles zipped through Bodmin Heath Moor, the wildest place in Cornwall. Crouched inside Ravi’s bicycle basket, Pendragon admired the scenery, his big ears flapping in the wind.

  “You’ve never been on a bike, have you?” Ravi whispered, leaning over the handlebar to pet him. “We’re going to Owl Tower now. You’re going to like it, you’ll see. We’re going to make a nice dog house for you.”

  “Hey, Ravi!” Thomasina yelled. “When did you turn into a snail?”

  Ravi looked up and realized his friends were way ahead of him. They were racing, and it looked like Thomasina was leading, though by just a little.

  The boy leaned down to talk to the dog. “Hold on Pendragon!” he said, pedaling like crazy. “We’re going to fly now!” He caught up with the others in no time and with a last effort, he passed them. “See?” he cried to Pendragon. “I’m the fastest!”

  His edge on them was not going to last long, though. They were hot on his heels and kept closing in. They had no intention of letting him win the race.

  Summer had broken out all around them. Thousands of pink flowers had blossomed in the recent warm weather, dotting the emerald-green meadows. The deeper the children ventured into the moor, though, the more barren the landscape grew. There wasn’t a soul down there, except for wild ponies that ran free on the hills and a couple of lonely sheep. The only sound was the hissing wind that, over the centuries, had formed the tors — strange and spookily shaped granite boulders. On that day, the wind tousled the purple sea of heather and rippled the moor pond’s surface, upon which ducks bobbed.

  Once their hideout was in sight, the kids slowed their pace. Owl Tower had a very peculiar look. Ball-shaped at the bottom, it grew narrow toward the top, like a vase. It was carefully positioned so you could see everything from its windows: to the west you could see the shiny ocean and Tintagel, the castle of legendary King Arthur. To the east were the gloomy hills of High Moore, and in the back stood Brown Willy, Cornwall’s highest and most dangerous spot.

  They hid their bicycles under a bunch of dried heather branches and entered the tower.

 
As they walked up the stairs, Thomasina blurted out, “Boy, another mystery — just when the Order of the Owls have their hands full with the mystery of the missing treasure!” For her, there were never enough mysteries and adventures.

  “That’s right. We’re going to have to work extra hard,” Minerva happily agreed.

  Ravi snorted and buried his face in Pendragon’s soft fur. For him, two mysteries were two mysteries too many.

  Ravi could barely manage to carry Pendragon up the stairs. So he was happy to reach the top and finally lay the dog down onto one of the comfortable silk cushions that Thomasina had scooped up by the armful from her own house.

  “I’ll get you something yummy to nibble on now,” he told the dog. Then he slapped himself on the forehead. “Oh no! We forgot to buy our snacks!”

  Their headquarters was usually fully stocked with everything necessary: not only sleeping bags, flashlights, binoculars, a first aid kit, and three slingshots — which Minerva had made herself — but also a basketful of cookies and fruit juice. That day, however, when Ravi peeked into the basket, he found it empty.

  “How about a scone?” Thomasina offered, as she reached into her inseparable bag and took out three sweet-smelling, warm blueberry scones, baked by Crowley Hall’s experienced chef.

  Ravi immediately gave a piece of his to Pendragon, who seemed to appreciate the gesture; in one single bite he also swallowed the part that Ravi had meant to keep for himself.

  The boy turned to ask Thomasina if she had another scone. But his friend, after wiping her mouth with a delicate lace napkin, gracefully sat down on a cushion next to Minerva and said, “Let’s get to work.”

  That’s just perfect, Ravi thought. Now I have to face two adventures on an empty stomach! He hugged Pendragon, seeking some comfort. After all, the dog was named after an ancient Cornish king, famous for his courage.

  Thomasina cleared her throat. “Okay, Agatha told us that the Terror of the Seas is a legendary sea monster,” she began. “Some say it looks like a crab. Some say it looks like a jellyfish, and some say it looks like an octopus.” Full of excitement, she stood up and widened her arms “They all agree on the fact that it is HUGE. So huge that you can mistake it for an island when it surfaces.”