had valiantly tried to catch the mighty sea beast;
h6w I had heaved on the rope with all my might and turned the monster from its course. How I had tried to save the old man by yelling for him to cut the line. And I would tell them about the evil, awesome creature with its wings and its deep rumbling voice. Yes, I'd tell them how it spoke to me! How it spared me because of my bravery. Yes, that's what I'd say.
And who would doubt it?
After all, didn't I have the monster's tooth? Was there another creature's tooth like this anywhere else in the world? No, I had the evidence of my miraculous adventure and my future was now secure. More than secure; it was perfect!
I couldn't afford to lose the Blood Sea Monster's tooth. I realized that, without it, I was nothing. Instead of fearing it, I embraced it, using what was left of Six-Finger's fishing line to hang the broken tooth around my neck. It was so long that it dangled down to my waist. I would let nothing come between me and my glorious find. Nothing.
I became so excited by the thought of my future that I rowed even faster toward port. A whole new life awaited me on the dawning. And then I rowed even harder, thinking about all the presents I would re ceive, the fine food I'd be served. They would be sorry that they cast me out, made me a dark elf. Yes, they would be sorry, because my name would be on the tongues of millions. I'd be the most envied elf that ever walked Krynn!
The sky was beginning to lighten. The dawn would be approaching soon. There, on the horizon, I could see a dark smudge that could only be land.
Faster and faster I rowed, my mind aflame with thoughts of greatness-until the sea around me suddenly began to churn and foam. The waves rose and fell, and the little boat was buffeted out of my control.
No! Please! Land was so close!
I lost one of my oars. It slipped from my hand and splashed into the heaving water near the side of the boat. I had to get to land. I needed that oar. I reached out over the side of the boat-and saw the Blood Sea Monster storm up out of the depths right in front of me.
'Now, it's your time!' I heard the same raspy voice whisper inside my head.
I looked up into its face-and was stunned to see my own face reflected there. The image changed so quickly. It was young, then old, then ravaged by time until only the bones and empty eye sockets remained. Yet it was me. Always me.
I wanted to argue, fight, run. But inside my head the voice said, 'Some die old, content with their wisdom. Some die young with silly dreams in their heads. I come for them all.'
I clutched at the tooth; it was supposed to change my life. And it did. I had leaned too far over the side, and when the boat rocked from the waves, the weight of the tooth around my neck sent me plummeting overboard.
It was then that I saw the bright, blinding light.
Now I see everything. And nothing.
A Stone's Throw Away
The citadel of the Magus sprawled atop the bleakest peak in all of Krynn. A black thunderhead rose in the sky above it, raining lightning down on the barren slopes. The small traces of life and dust that clung to the rocks were buffeted by a cold and endless wind.
For three centuries, no living mortals traveled closer than sighting distance of the peak, their journeys and curiosity warned away by the boiling storm. Lords and kings turned their attention to other matters;
great wizards investigated less dangerous secrets.
So it was when, upon finding an intruder within the castle, the citadel's master became at once confounded, enraged, and fascinated. He ordered his unliving servants to bring the intruder to his study for questioning, then retired there to await the arrival.
Catching the intruder was no mean feat, since he was quite skilled at evading pursuit. In due time, however, two of the manlike automatons which served the Magus entered the study, the intruder suspended between them by his arms.
The Magus looked carefully at the intruder, who stopped kicking the moment he saw the Magus. The intruder was barely four feet in height and thinly built; he had bright brown eyes and the face of a ten-year-old human child. Narrow, pointed ears pressed against his light brown hair, which was pulled into a sort of pony tail on top of his head. The Magus recognized him as a kender, an annoying minor race that shared the world with him.
The Magus was accustomed to seeing terror on the faces of his captives. It disarmed him to see this one look upon him with open-mouthed surprise and lively curiosity. The captive then smiled like a boy caught with one hand in a pastry jar.
'Hey,' said the intruder, 'you must be one of thosenecro-guys-necromantics, thaumaturboes, what-cha callums.' He craned his neck and surveyed the study as if it were the living room of a friend. 'Nice place you've got here.'
Mildly annoyed, the Magus nodded. 'I have not had visitors here for many years. Today, I find you here within my fortress. For the sake of courtesy, I will first ask your name before I demand an explanation of how you got in here.'
The intruder struggled for a moment, but he accom plished nothing against the grip of his eight-foot-tall captors. With a sigh, he resigned himself to talking his way out.
'My name is Tasslehoff Burrfoot,' he began brightly. He almost added, 'My friends call me Tas,' but decided not to bother. 'Could your guards put me down? My arms hurt'
The Magus ignored his request. 'Tasslehoff. An un familiar name, though I recognize Burrfoot as common among the kenderfolk. How did you get into this fortress?'
Tasslehoff smiled, all innocence, though he was sure that his arms were getting bruised. 'Oh, I dunno, I was wandering by and saw your place up here, so I thought I'd step in, see how you were doing-'
The Magus hissed as if he were a viper that had been stepped upon. Tasslehoff's voice faded away. 'That's not going to work, is it?' Tasslehoff finished lamely.
'Wretch!' said the Magus savagely. His pale, skull-like face grew dead white with rage. 'I am wasting time on you. Speak plainly!'
Though kender love to infuriate and tease, they can tell when they have pushed someone too far. 'Yes, well,' Tasslehoff began, 'I don't know how I got in here. I mean, uh, I put this ring on'-henodded toward his left hand, still held tightly by an automaton 'and I teleported in, but, um, I don't know why I did. It just, uh, happened.'
A fragile silence reigned. The Magus stared at the kender speculatively. 'That ring?' he said, gesturing toward the heavily engraved device with the enormous emerald that rested on the kender's third finger.
'Yes,' Tasslehoff said, sighing. 'I found it last week, and it looked interesting at the time; well, I put it on, and then I teleported.' The kender grinned in mild embarrassment. 'I can't seem to stop teleporting now.'
For a moment Tasslehoff thought the Magus didn't believe him. 'You put it on and appeared here. A ring that teleports the wearer.' The Magus appeared to consider this possibility.
Tasslehoff shrugged. 'Well, it's got its positive and negative aspec-'
'Take it off,' said the Magus.
'Take it off?' Tasslehoff questioned weakly, his grin fading. 'Uh, well, I'll try if your big friends will let go of me.'
The Magus gestured, and the undead automatons released their grip on the kender's arms, dropping him to the floor. Getting up, the prisoner rubbed his muscles, sighed, then grasped the ring tightly. He pulled and tugged until his face turned red, but his actions had no effect.
'Let me try,' said the Magus.
Instinctively, Tasslehoff hid his ringed hand. Though he didn't fear the Magus, he was not eager to have the Magus approach him, either.
