Serpent Mage Read Online Free PDF Page B

overdress laced behind, and stout, thick boots. Standing before the looking glass in my bedroom in my father's house, I began the day's most important task: brushing and curling my hair and side whiskers.
    The time seemed all too short before I heard my father calling for me. I made believe I hadn't heard him, stood looking at myself with a critical eye, wondering if I was fit to be seen in public. You mustn't think that such attention to my appearance was all for vanity's sake. As heir to the Gargan throne, I'm expected to both look and act the part.
    I had to admit—I was pretty.
    I cleared away the pots of oil, imported from the elves of Elmas, and replaced the curling tongs carefully in their stand by the grate. Sabia, who has servants falling all over her (and who has never once brushed her own long blonde hair), can't get over the fact that I not only dress myself, but clean up afterward. We Gargan are a proud and self-sufficient people and would never dream of waiting on each other in a menial capacity. Our Vater chops his own fire wood; our Muter does her own laundry and sweeps her own floor. I curl my own hair. The only mark of distinction the royal family receives above all other Gargan is that we are expected to work twice as hard as anyone else.
    Today, however, our family was to have one of the rewards for services rendered to the people. The fleet of sun-chasers had been completed. My father would ask the blessing of the One upon them, and I would have the honor of nailing a lock of my hair to the bow of the flagship.
    My father yelled again. Swiftly, I left my room, hurried out into the hall.
    “Where is the lass?” I heard my father demand of mymother. “The seasun will have passed us by. We'll be frozen solid by the time she's ready.”
    “This is her big day,” said my mother soothingly. “You want her to look well. All her suitors will be there.”
    “Bah!” Father grumbled. “She's far too young to be thinking of such things.”
    “Perhaps. But what catches the eye now catches the head later,” said my mother, quoting a dwarven proverb. 4
    “Hunh!” My father snorted.
    But, when he caught sight of me, his stomach puffed out with pride, and he said nothing more about my being late.
    Father, I miss you so! Oh, how hard it is! How hard.
    We left our house that is more like a cave bored straight into the mountain. All our homes and businesses are built inside the mountain, unlike human and elven structures that are built on the mountain slopes. It took me a long time to get used to living in the Elmas coral castle that seemed, in my mind, to cling precariously to the rock. I had dreams about its tumbling down the mountainside, carrying me with it!
    The morning was beautiful. The rays of the seasun shimmered up through the waves. 5 The sparse clouds that floated over the warren caught the sun's glow. My family joined the throngs of dwarves walking down the steeply sloping pathto the shore of the Goodsea. Our neighbors called out to my father, more than a few coming up to slap him on his broad stomach—a typical dwarven form of greeting—and invite him to join them in the tavern after the ceremony.
    My father slapped stomachs in return, and we continued down the mountainside. When on land, the Gargan travel everywhere on their own two feet. Carts are meant to haul potatoes, not people. And although we dwarves have grown accustomed to the sight of elves riding around in carriages and humans using beasts to bear their burdens, most Gargans consider such laziness to be a symbol of the weakness inherent in the other two races.
    The only vehicle we dwarves use are our famous submersibles—ships designed to sail the Goodsea. Such ships— the dwarves' pride—were developed out of necessity since we have an unfortunate tendency to sink like stones in the water. The dwarf has not been born who can swim.
    We Gargans are such clever shipbuilders that the Phondrans and the Elmas, who once built ships of