CHAPTER TWELVE

PENNYWICK’S SECRET

Pennywick felt trouble coming before she actually saw anything out of the ordinary.  She was in the cave’s front parlor, nervously dusting the top shelves of Zaal’s forbidden bookcases with a badger pelt gripped in her tail, trying to occupy her worried mind, when she sensed the rumbling vibrations.  Like a rhythmic earthquake, the tremors came from the distant reaches of the stone forest, and rose, and rose, and rose, and rose, making the cave itself tremble.  Pennywick dropped the mop and shuffled over to the front window, her claws clicking on the stone tiles.

            Through the porthole of stone, she c...

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