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." He looked away from me, gazing out onto
the water. "Some say it's as big as a thousand fishing boats. Others
say it isn't the size of the beast, it's the length of its teeth and claws
you have to watch out for. But nobody really knows. I knew one
man, though, who claimed he saw the beast's reflection in a mirror.
He said it had a scaly, blood-stained face that oozed black pus. But
it doesn't matter what it looks like. What matters is that I catch it!"
"Why?"
His eye narrowed and his voice grew thick with anger. But he
wasn't angry with me. His rage was aimed at the creature he
sought. "It killed my father," he said. "And it killed his father, too.
It killed my only brother, my sons, my nephews-fishermen, all-
it took them to their deaths on this sea of blood. In the end, my
wife died of ... neglect . . . grief. Now I'm alone. No family.
Nobody. An old man with nothing in his heart but the desire for
revenge." He lifted his head and stared at the sky with a fire in his
eyes. "And I'll have that revenge!" he shouted into the night. "I
swear it!"
If Six-Finger kept yelling like that, he was going to scare away
the fish. He had already scared me.
I forgot all about his ravings when he offered me one of his
wheat cakes. I gobbled it down so fast that the old man offered me
a piece of fruit from his bag. "What about you?" I asked, not
wanting to appear unmindful of my host (and wanting to keep his
mind off the Blood Sea Monster)
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