The Magic Of Krynn Read Online Free PDF Page A

grumble. I felt sorry for him, sitting up in the cold, damp night, fighting to keep his
     dream alive of catching this one great fish before he died. It seemed like a dream that
     would go unfulfilled, for the night was passing and he hadn't had a single bite on his
     line.
    Not a single bite.
    My breath caught in my throat. In all that time, it was impossible that the old man hadn't
     had a single nibble, unless the waters here were DEAD. And if that was true . . .
    A terrible fear gripped me, and I wanted to tell the old man to pull up his line. But I
     didn't get the chance. In that very moment, he shouted, “I've got a strike!”
    The fishing line went so taut it almost snapped. And even though the old man was letting
     out more line to let the fish on the other end run, he couldn't do it fast enough.
    The little boat was being pulled through the water!
    At first we moved sluggishly across the choppy sea, but then the boat was pulled still
     faster and, like a dragon in flight, we soon found ourselves soaring across the tops of
     the waves.
    The old man knew better than to hold the line in his bare hands. He had cleverly jammed an
     oar into the prow of the boat and then wrapped the line around it.
    Clever, but not clever enough. The fishing line burned through the wood as the creature on
     the other end kept pulling farther and farther away.
    The old man, fearing that he would run out of line and lose his catch, tied the end of the
     cord around his body and then held on for the final struggle.
    Seeing the old man's bold action, I jumped to the front of the boat to help him. If there
     was going to be glory, I wanted my share. I took hold of the rope alongside him and tugged
     at it, trying to stop the fish's run.
    Six-Finger Fiske ignored my effort. Instead, he shouted up to the sky, “I've caught the
     Blood Sea Monster! I've got him, and I'll never let him go!”
    'I followed Six-Finger's gaze up into the heavens, but all I saw were heavy, ominous
     clouds. That's when I realized our direction. The great fish was pulling our boat straight
     toward the maelstrom! If we didn't change direction soon, we'd be sucked into the whirl-
     pool and perish at the bottom of the Blood Sea.
    “We've got to turn it!” I cried. “Look where it's taking us!”
    The old man heard me and understood what I meant. He took a deep breath and pulled on the
     line with every ounce of strength in his aged body. And I pulled right along with him.
    The line suddenly went slack. It worked!
    “We won!” Six-Finger Fiske cried with joy. “Don't you see? It's exhausted, beaten. It's
     given up the struggle!”
    The old man was short of breath. But though weak, his chest heaving from the battle, he
     hurriedly began reeling in the monster.
    I fell back, watching with glee as he pulled in arm's-length after arms-length of line. We
     had really done it. The old man would be a legend. And when we hauled the beast up onto
     shore, I would stand there next to Six-Finger Fiske. People would say, “Look, Duder
     Basillart was a thieving dark elf, but see what he did? He helped that old fisherman catch
     the Blood Sea Monster.”
    I leaned over the side of the boat, anxious to see our catch. After all, I was entitled to
     two percent. I would remind Six-Finger of his promise when we neared the shore. There was
     no doubt in my mind that two percent of THIS catch would be worth a fortune.
    As I stared down into the water, looking for the fish, the sea began to bubble. And then I
     heard a roaring sound that seemed to be coming from underneath the boat. No matter what
     direction I looked, I saw the sea beginning to foam and chum.
    “What's going on?” I cried. The old man didn't say a word. He stopped reeling in his line
    and just sat there with a look of awe on his face. The sea started rolling beneath us in a
     mighty turmoil, and I
    knew then with a terrible certainty that it wasn't the old man that had caught the