Haven (War of the Princes) Read Online Free PDF

the slightest provocation, expecting to see ghosts or ghouls drifting from their resting places at any moment.
    We came to a halt in the center of the cemetery, surrounded by lesser tombs, facing Rivermarch’s Mausoleum. It was a building constructed entirely of the hardest white stone. There were no windows or doors. It was well known as the oldest section of the graveyard, and because there was no way in or out, there was no proof that it was actually a Mausoleum; none aside from the bold etchings that framed each wall reading, “HOUSE OF THE SLUMBERING DEAD.” It wasn’t a great mystery why no one had found a way inside.
    Suddenly my desire to find a path to the outside world was as damp as my hood.
    Grendel stamped a hoof and shocked me back into focus.
    It occurred to me then that as far as I knew, no one had ever looked for what I was looking for. Curiosity reinforced my resolve.
    I dismounted, leading Grendel beneath the shelter of a gazebo beside the Mausoleum and left him happily nibbling overgrown flowers.
    As I paced around the doorless , windowless structure, I found myself wishing I wasn’t quite so good at finding things. My own cowardly sentiment wasn’t enough to stop me from crawling into the bushes beside one wall.
                My discovery was a gaping, wide hole that tunneled under the wall. I’d seen burrows like this before, and they always belonged to badgers.
                  “What am I doing ?” I asked myself, lighting my little round lantern with trembling hands.
                Peeking back through the bushes, I saw Grendel , contentedly munching flowers, completely neutral to the fact that his rider was about to climb into the oldest tomb in Rivermarch .
                I took a deep breath of fresh air and hoped the badgers that created this passage weren’t home.

Chapter 6: Inside
     
     
     
     
     
                Just as I’d hoped, the burrow was a short tunnel that dipped under the wall and up through crumbled floor tiles within the mausoleum. Lucky for me it was so wide. I was able to scoot right through without much trouble, avoiding a branch tunnel that probably led to the badger’s actual den.
                I resurfaced on the other side coughing and wishing it hadn’t been raining. My clothes were covered in dirt and mud. I did my best to dust myself off and wipe my eyes, then held up the lantern high to get a better look around.
                The air was close and stale like nothing I’d breathed before.
                The inside was mostly unadorned, and square, with a very high, cobweb clouded ceiling. It was just what you would have imagined if you were standing on the outside, only there were no coffins. On the far side of the room, a patch of darkness on the floor consumed the dim light of my lantern. When I’d peered at it long enough, I realized its shadows hid a stairwell leading down. My heart beat faster.
                Pacing, I bit my knuckles and fretted, staring at the ominous black passage through the floor that was my only way forward. My courage waned. Wasn’t it enough that I was here... alone? I backed up and bumped against the wall behind me. Something crunched under my heel. A chill washed down my spine like someone spilled a bucket of ice cold water on my back. It was a rodent skeleton, our friend badger’s meal.
                The thick walls and ceiling were oppressive, like a great, square monster of stone, poised to smother me. I loathed feeling trapped.   There were no windows, no doors, only that badger hole to let me out. My breathing was getting out of hand, and I had to struggle not to hyperventilate as I peered down at the staircase.
                Was the blackness getting closer? I couldn’t tell. Was it oozing its way nearer, ready to lash me into its deep shadow and drag me down the stairwell? Forcing myself to blink, I