The Magic Of Krynn Read Free Page A

said. “Don't see too many
     elves around here. But you can't stay in my boat. I'm heading out to sea now.”
    “You're going fishing?” I sputtered, astonished. “Everyone stayed in port because of the
     storm,” I pointed out. “And now it's too late to go out. It'll be dark in just a few
     hours.”
    “The fish bite best after a heavy rain,” replied Six-Finger Fiske. “Besides,” he added
     mysteriously, “there is one fish that I must catch-and my time is running out.”
    I didn't know what he was talking about. The truth? It didn't really matter to me. All I
     cared about was keeping out of Thick- Neck's sight; a hard thing to do in such a small
     fishing village.
    “I'll go with you,” I quickly offered. “If you head out onto the Blood Sea so late, it'll
     be dark by the time you come back. I have really good eyes and I'll be able to help you
     find your way back into port.”
    The old man laughed. “I don't need you to help me navigate in the Blood Sea,” he said.
     “I've been fishing in these waters since before you were born.”
    I was sixty-two years old-just an adolescent for an elf-but just the same I didn't doubt
     that Six-Finger Fiske had outlived me by a good ten or fifteen years. I had to find
     another way to convince him to take me along.
    “If you've been fishing for as long as you say,” I said slyly, “then you're not quite as
     young as you look.”- Unlike most elves, I can stretch the truth until it's almost ready to
     snap.-“But if you're as old as you say, Mr. Fiske, ” I continued, “then I'd be glad to
     offer my rowing services to you for just the modest fee of ten percent of your catch.”
    “You're a clever one, elf,” the old man said with admiration in his voice.
    “Please, call me Duder.”
    "All right, Duder. Though you don't look like you can row worth a damn, your company on a
     dark night might keep these
    tired eyes of mine from closing. But if you really want to go with me, you need to know
     that I'm setting out to catch the Blood Sea Monster."
    I couldn't help it. I laughed.
    “So, you're one of those who doesn't believe it exists,” he said without anger.
    “I've heard stories,” I admitted. “But that's all they are. Everyone knows that. Even
     kender.”
    “Just the same,” the old man said doggedly, “it's the Blood Sea Monster that I intend to
     catch. Do you still want to go?”
    I certainly didn't want to stay around to face Thick-Neck Nick. So, I bit my tongue to
     keep from laughing in his face again, and said, “Yes, I still want to go.”
    Before he could say another word, I started pushing his little fishing boat toward the
     lapping waves of the Blood Sea, hoping he wouldn't have second thoughts.
    Suddenly, he called out to me, “Duder?” “Y es?” “You'll get two percent of my catch. And
     that's final.” I smiled to myself. I was going fishing!
    I pulled the oars of the fishing boat until the shore began to shrink out of sight. But
     our progress was slow because the Blood Sea was still roiling from the storm.
    I thought I might get sick from the boat's constant dips into the trough of every wave.
     Six-Finger must have seen my suffering, but a deal was a deal; he didn't take the oars
     from me. He offered only one consolation. “Don't worry,” he said. “The water will calm
     down by dusk. It always does.”
    He was right. As the sun set into the Blood Sea, dazzling crimson lights sparkled on the
     now-smooth surface of the water. The sea was at peace. And, finally, so was my stomach.
     Not that there was anything in it, mind you.
    It suddenly occurred to me that Six-Finger hadn't cast his line. “You can't catch
     anything-except your death of cold-without putting your hook in the water,” I said.
    “Giving orders already, huh?” growled the old man. “I've fished these waters before and
     I'll not find the Monster hereabouts.”
    With my stomach calm, I was getting hungry. I'd eaten