Saving Thanehaven Read Online Free PDF Page A

matches his pace—even though Noble’s stride is long andswift, while Rufus merely shuffles. “I mean, what with the bugs and the suits and the twists and the turns, it’s a classic obstacle course. There’ll be a dragon next, you watch. Or maybe a rope bridge over a lava pit.”
    Rufus is wrong, though. Because when they round the next corner, they find themselves in front of a stiff, leathery curtain that’s hanging from the top of an archway. On closer inspection, the curtain proves to be a giant tongue, dried and cured like leather. The grubs finally come to a standstill in front of it. Even the swarming insects seem reluctant to proceed. Noble soon discovers why; upon lifting the curtain, he’s dazzled by a flood of light that pours into the tunnel and scours it clean. The insects scatter. The grubs disappear back into the ceiling.
    “Wow,” says Rufus. “Now
that’s
impressive.”
    He’s referring to the vast hall beyond the threshold, which is lit by a truly monstrous chandelier made of bones. More bones cover the walls in a pretty decorative scheme, like swirls of icing on a cake; there are rosettes of jawbones and knee joints, garlands of ribs and vertebrae, patterns of crossed tibia and finger bones. The ribs of the vaulted ceiling are
real
ribs, bigger than any whale’s. The pillars holding them up are femurs.
    In the middle of the hall, there’s an elevated throne made of skulls. But no one’s sitting on it.
    “Well, this is weird,” Rufus observes. Though he’s not shouting, his voice still echoes around the hugespace. “It’s like
Vogue Living
for the Addams family.”
    Noble doesn’t reply. He’s given up trying to understand half of what Rufus says.
    “Check out the dead plants,” Rufus adds. “Are they supposed to match the decor, or haven’t they been watered enough?”
    Noble is more interested in some of the other items scattered around the room in forlorn little clusters: the warped embroidery frame, the broken spinning wheel, the dusty musical instruments, the half-finished weaving strung up on a loom. Silks and pins and thimbles spill from an open sewing box inlaid with mother-of-pearl. Brushes stand in pots of dried ink.
    “These things must belong to the princess,” he murmurs. “They haven’t been used for a very long time.”
    “If she
is
imprisoned, it’s certainly a gilded cage,” says Rufus.
    “I hope they haven’t killed her.” Noble lifts his gaze to the bones arranged in floral patterns above his head, wondering if the princess’s mortal remains might be among them. “I hope we’re not too late.”
    “It seems to me like we’re too early.” Rufus scans the room with an impatient sigh, before suddenly shouting, “Hello? Is anyone here? We’ve arrived now, in case you’re interested!”
    A door bangs somewhere in the distance. Noble tenses. He thinks about picking up the golden sewing scissors—or perhaps ripping a shaft of wood from theloom and using it as a club—but changes his mind when he sees how calm Rufus looks. The sound of approaching footsteps obviously doesn’t frighten Rufus. On the contrary, he seems happy.
    “About time,” he remarks, turning toward the throne. There’s a doorway just behind it, hung with a curtain made of snakeskin that crackles as it’s pushed aside. The girl who suddenly appears is flushed and panting, as if she’s just sprinted up several flights of stairs. Nevertheless, despite her disheveled appearance, she makes Rufus blink and Noble gape.
    “Oh, man,” drawls Rufus. “Disney princess.”
    The girl glowers at him fiercely. “Are you Noble the Slayer?” she demands, then spies Noble’s looming bulk. “Or is it you? Are
you
the tyrant who has kept us imprisoned for so long?”
    She’s perfectly proportioned, with a tiny waist and a bosom like a ship’s prow. Though her cascading hair is red and her slanting eyes are green, she doesn’t have any freckles. Her close-fitting gown is made of emerald