The Improbable Adventures of Scar and Potbelly: Ice Terraces of Crystal Crag Read Online Free PDF

unpleasant. But fortuitous for us as it will afford you quick access to the outskirts of town.”
    Scar couldn’t wait to be out of there. “How quick?”
    “Another ten minutes or so I’d wager.”
    “Then lead on.”
    Old Man headed down Smuggler’s Way, torch held high.
    “Back in my day, this channel used to be frequented by all sorts embarking upon nefarious deeds.”
    “Including yourself?” asked Potbelly.
    Old Man chuckled. “I’m afraid so,” he replied. “Oh, nothing of any consequences I assure you. Never hurt anyone, just smuggled in some wine a time or two; when a few extra coins were needed to help with the wee ones.”
    They continued for another half dozen paces when he began, “In fact…” then trailed off when the mouth of a narrow passageway appeared out of the darkness ahead.
    He paused at the opening and held the torch within. “You know, this might be the very place where we stored it.” Glancing back at Scar and Potbelly, he said, “Wonder if anything was left behind?”
    “We don’t really have time…”
    Before Scar could finish, Old Man said, “Wait here. I’ll be right back.”
    Light vanished as he and the torch darted into the narrow passageway. Just a little luminescence spilled from the opening.
    “Look,” Scar said as he moved to the opening and watched the old man move further away, “we need to get going.”
    A moment later, the light from the torch vanished altogether.
    “What the…”
    Potbelly’s exclamation was interrupted by a clanging sound and then the piercing cry of a whistle.
    “Hey!” Scar yelled. His voice echoed in the darkness.
    Again the whistle sounded; long and loud.
    Sparks from flint on steel broke the darkness in momentary flashes. Potbelly knelt on the floor and worked to get a small pile of tinder lit. Next to the tinder sat the stub of a candle.
    “Old Man!” Scar yelled, drawing his sword. “You come back here right now or we’ll kill you!”
    “Sorry about this, boys,” came the old man’s voice from the darkness.
    A spark smoldered upon the tinder. Potbelly gently blew, encouraging it to catch. Two breaths and a flame appeared. He took the candle and moved the wick into the flame.
    “You’re a dead man!” vowed Scar.
    “I needed your help,” he explained. “I didn’t think you would assist me if I had asked.”
    “The only help you will receive is into your grave.”
    Scar took the candle and led the way into the narrow passage. They hadn’t gone very far before coming to a door barring the way. Made of rusty iron bars, it was locked in place with a heavy chain and padlock. Just beyond the reach of the candle’s light stood Old Man.
    “I truly am sorry for this.” He held a whistle to his lips and blew.
    “Sorry for what?” asked Potbelly.
    From the sewer tunnel behind them came a scraping sound along with another sound reminiscent of a booted foot being pulled from the mud.
    “Kill it and I’ll make it worth your while.”
    “What is it?” Potbelly asked.
    Straining to see what it may be, they stared back down the narrow passage toward the sewer tunnel.
    “It is the reason Smuggler’s Way has been abandoned.”
    Scar turned back to Old Man. “Damn you.” Then to Potbelly, “We got to get out of here.”
    “There was a set of rungs not far back,” Potbelly said.
    Nodding, Scar broke into a sprint. As they reached the end of the narrow tunnel and turned into the sewer, Old Man hollered. “Good luck!”
     
    “ Good luck ,” mumbled Scar, “I’ll kill that old man.”
    Behind them, they heard the scrapping and sucking sound. Something moved; it was coming and it was close.
    The scant light from Potbelly’s candle did little to throw back the shadows. Shielding it from the breeze caused by his swift movement, he ran after Scar.
    “We need more light.”
    Potbelly couldn’t agree more.
    Whatever it was that dwelt along Smuggler’s Way gained upon them. The scraping sound came in faster intervals and