ancient legends. new heroes.

m eller
frob ests
O
meg a-
NH D

RISE
A
K2
BOO

OF THE
Kelly didn’t believe in ancient prophecies.
But now she must.

The Soul Collector is holding her mother hostage,

and if Kelly wants to rescue her, she needs to master the
breathtaking powers of the Unicorn. She also needs help.

She needs to find . . . the Minotaur.

Minh knows something epic is going on.

His body is changing; his strength is otherworldly.
But he has no idea that this is just the beginning . . .
2
Kelly and Minh must help each other if they
A. DO
are to have any hope of rescuing the
people they love.

IGHTYUR
M OTA
MIN
ions by
illustrat hl
chris wa

ANH DO
Mythix_MightyMinotaur_COVER.indd 1 25/2/20 12:14 pm
First published by Allen & Unwin in 2020

Text copyright © Anh Do, 2020

Illustrations by Chris Wahl, 2020

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or

transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical,
including photocopying, recording or by any information storage
and retrieval system, without prior permission in writing from
the publisher. The Australian Copyright Act 1968 (the Act) allows a
maximum of one chapter or ten per cent of this book, whichever is
the greater, to be photocopied by any educational institution for
its educational purposes provided that the educational institution
(or body that administers it) has given a remuneration notice to the
Copyright Agency (Australia) under the Act.

Allen & Unwin

83 Alexander Street
Crows Nest NSW 2065
Australia
Phone: (61 2) 8425 0100
Email: info@allenandunwin.com
Web: www.allenandunwin.com

ISBN 978 1 76087 640 1

Cover design by Kristy Lund-White and Chris Wahl

Text design by Jo Hunt
Set in 12pt ITC Legacy Serif by Jo Hunt
Printed and bound in Australia by McPherson’s Printing Group

10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1

The paper in this book is FSC® certified.

FSC® promotes environmentally responsible,
socially beneficial and economically viable
management of the world’s forests.
 ANH DO

BOO
K 2
IGHTYUR
M OTA
MIN

illustrations by
chris wahl
 Contents

1 An Artist’s Temper 1

2 Training  10

3 Control  19

4 A Show of Strength  28

5 A Wise Plan  33

6 Pages of the Mind  42

7 The Orphanage  51

8 Sister Anna  63

9 The Armstrongs  70

10 Another Cup of Tea  84

11 Minh Sees Red  91

12 Swift and Armstrong  103

13 Boat Ride  119

14 Sector Hub A  134

15 Woman 144

16 The Cell 172

17 Tests of Strength 179

18 Fine Dining 187

19 Good Cause 206

 1
An Artist’s
Temper

W illiam James swept into the dungeon of Capital

Castle. He knew the way well, having locked up his
fair share of people over the years.
Behind him marched his personal guards,
although ‘personal’ was the wrong word. William
hadn’t even bothered to learn their names – they
were disposable personnel. In truth, he was far better
equipped to protect himself than were any of the
mortals in his employ. They, like so much of his life,
were just there for show.
He arrived at the cell which interested him today.
‘Hello, Ms Swift,’ he said, as he sank into the
plush velvet chair facing its barred door. ‘I trust
you’re enjoying your stay?’
 Hannah turned her eyes to the ground, and her
hair fell over her face.
William found her silence irritating. She had
nothing else to do, and was all out of options, yet she
still chose not to speak to him? He gave a flick of his
hand, and she rose from the bed to float forward and
press up against the bars.
 ‘That’s better,’ said William. ‘You are a beautiful
woman, Ms Swift. Not spectacularly beautiful, and
not normally worthy of being painted, but the good
news is that I may have reason to immortalise you
anyway.’
He snapped his fingers, and a canvas materialised
beside him. He held out his right hand towards it
and his left towards Hannah.
‘Please,’ was all she said.
William scowled. Was that really the best she
could do? While not a fan of endless gibbering, he
did like to get more than a single word from his
victims.
‘This can be very easy,’ he said. ‘Answer my
questions about your daughter, and I’ll allow you to
remain three-dimensional.’
‘I already told you, I don’t know anything,’ said
Hannah. ‘Even if I did, I wouldn’t tell you.’
‘And therein lies the problem,’ said William.

4
 He made a beckoning motion and felt the warm
glow of Lucifer’s Ring on his middle finger. Hannah
struggled, but she had no chance against his power.
‘Such graceful arms,’ said William.
Hannah gasped as the colour lifted from her
arm up into the air, and swirled towards William’s
outstretched left hand. It began passing through his
right hand onto the canvas. Hannah stared at her
now-translucent arm in horror.
 ‘When did Kelly get her powers?’ said William.
‘I told you!’ said Hannah. ‘I don’t know about
any powers! She got a lump on her head, so we went
to the hospital. That was the last time I saw her.’
William sighed, and moved his hand towards her
other arm.
‘No! Don’t!’
‘Give me something I can work with, dear
Hannah. Had she ever been in touch with a man
called Stanley Solomon?’
‘I’ve never heard that name in my life!’
More colour streamed through the air, and a
second arm appeared on the canvas.
‘This can all be reversed,’ said William, ‘if you just
cooperate.’
‘You’re a monster!’ screamed Hannah. ‘A pathetic
monster, deluded in holding yourself above others—’
‘Silence!’ bellowed William, rising to his feet.
‘How dare you speak to me that way!’
His hand movements quickened, and Hannah
cried out as the brown of her hair, the blue of her

6
jeans, her yellow shirt, her cherry lips, all curled away
from her. Working furiously, William painted the
bars around her too, as well as the cell itself, and all
of it took shape again upon the canvas.
His own throbbing heartbeat thundered in
his ears, such was his anger. His hands wove ever
faster . . . until he fell back into the chair, breathing
hard.
Curse my weak heart, he thought, as his vision
reeled. He would need a sip or two from the Holy
Grail after this ordeal.
A breeze rustled his hair, and he surveyed the
results of losing his temper. There was now a hole in
his castle.
 ‘Oops. . . Summon the builders,’ William shouted
at one of his guards, and the young man scurried off.
William’s gaze came to rest on his new painting.
Normally he rendered his subjects in happy poses,
with bright smiles and sparkling eyes. This time he
had gotten so worked up, he had neglected to do so.
How had he allowed Hannah to get under his
skin? What did he care what she thought? She was
just a common woman, and he was a god among
men. Still, she had tricked him, somehow, into
creating an ugly object he couldn’t enjoy.
No matter, he thought. It will still suit my purposes
well enough.
When Kelly Swift saw her mother in such a state,
it would surely bring her running.
And if there was one thing Kelly Swift could do,
it was run.

8
 2
Training

‘L  et’s try again,’ said Stanley Solomon. ‘The force

field you projected in the Memorial Garden could
prove extremely useful. You turned aside a fireball
from the Collector! I’ve never seen anyone withstand
his magic like that.’
 Kelly nodded. ‘What do you want me to do?’
‘Concentrate on how you felt when it happened.’
Concentrating was the last thing Kelly felt like
doing. What she wanted to do was hunt down the
Collector and rescue her mum. Nevertheless, she
forced herself to listen to Stanley as he paced around.
‘Feel the power build inside,’ he said. ‘Feel it pool
and accumulate.’
Kelly didn’t think Stanley really knew how her
power worked. It did not ‘pool and accumulate’,
whatever that meant. It was more like an energy
which raced around inside her until she used it or
exploded.
‘How am I supposed to think about this,’ she
said, ‘when my mum is in danger?’
‘Because,’ said Stanley, as if ready for the question,
‘if you cannot master your powers, you’ll have no
chance of getting her back.’
It had been two days since they had fled from the
Collector into the sewers. On the first night they’d

11
holed up in a workers’ cupboard, which had at least
kept them clear of the rats and the smell.
 The next day, after spending a long time winding
through dark tunnels, they had located a manhole
cover which led up to the edge of the Industrial Zone,
where they’d found this abandoned warehouse.
Stanley had wasted no time starting Kelly’s
‘training’, as he called it. She found it a bit annoying,
as she didn’t think they knew each other well enough
for him to appoint himself some kind of guru – but
she knew he meant well, so she didn’t object.
Her horn tingled as his thoughts
arrived in her head.
 If you can’ t master your emotions, we may all be
doomed.
‘Did you mean for me to hear that?’ she said.
Stanley’s curly eyebrows twitched. ‘Perhaps.’
‘Well, just talk to me like a normal person.’
‘Dear girl, you are anything but normal,’ said
Stanley. ‘You’re our one hope of defeating the Soul
Collector.’
‘What if he hurts her?’ said Kelly. ‘What if he
paints her?’
‘We already know you have the ability to reverse
that.’
‘With flowers,’ said Kelly. ‘With vines and
dandelions and a park bench. We’re talking about
a human being here – my mother. And I’m sorry to
say it, but you don’t have much experience training
unicorn girls, do you?’ She felt bad about being so
blunt, but there was little point in denying the truth.
‘You’re just making it up as you go along.’
Stanley’s shoulders sagged, and Kelly realised he
had been making an effort to hold them up. He was

14
tired, she sensed, but had been trying to be strong.
‘I have to hope,’ he said, ‘that you can bring back
people too. Please try to work with me, Kelly. This
isn’t a game.’

15
 Kelly prickled at his words. As if she didn’t know
how serious this was!
‘You think I’m treating this like a game?’ she
snapped. ‘Aren’t games supposed to be fun?’
Stanley softened. ‘My apologies, Kelly. I chose
my words poorly. I didn’t sleep very well on the
warehouse floor last night, not to mention . . . well,
everything else.’
Kelly immediately felt awful. These ugly feelings
just weren’t her. She hadn’t meant to belittle an old
man who was only trying to help. She decided she
would also try to choose her words more carefully.
‘I’m sorry too,’ she said. ‘I’m just really worried.
It’s a lot of pressure to be responsible for – you know
– the future of everything.’
‘The Collector has one of my loved ones too,’ said
Stanley.
‘What?’
‘My wife,’ said Stanley. ‘He painted her as
punishment because I dared to question him. I’m

16
in this with you for the long haul, Kelly. Whatever it
takes. Do or die. You’ll not be alone in this.’
Kelly realised there were tears in his eyes, and felt
her own well up in answer.
‘I used to think there was no hope of getting her
back,’ said Stanley, ‘but now, with your powers . . .’
‘We’ll get them back,’ Kelly promised. ‘Both
of them. And anyone else William James has
imprisoned.’

17
 Stanley nodded gratefully, and Kelly ached to
take away his pain. How long, she wondered, had he
lived with this grief?
‘I’m not claiming to have all the answers,’ said
Stanley. ‘And you’re right, I don’t know exactly how
to train you. But maybe we can work it out together,
eh? Two heads are better than one.’
‘Usually I’d agree,’ said Kelly, with a weak smile,
‘but these days I can hear everything that goes on
inside both heads.’
Stanley thought about this for a moment.
‘If that’s what’s bothering you,’ he said, ‘then
that’s what we should work on first.’