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. Know what I mean?"
I nodded. What else could I do?
Without warning, the old, leathery fisherman picked me up by
my shoulders and set me down on the muddy beach. "You're a
funny-looking little fellow," he 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
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