Книга только для ознакомления
.
"The village of Que-shu was where it should be, smack in the
middle of the plains. We're riding on the Sageway East Road -- right
where it should be, too -- but this should be more plains, right?" He
flung his arms at the scenery around him. "So where did these
mountains I come from?" He thumped the map and shook his head.
"Has there been an earthquake or something? Everything is turned
around."
"You tell me," Gisella said, clicking her tongue at the horses
to spur them up the incline. "After all, you're the sport who made the
map."
"I said I made maps, all right. But I never said I made this
one," Tasslehoff said, fidgeting.
"Mr. Burrfoot's Uncle Bertie made this map," Woodrow said
innocently.
"Well, I'm not exactly positive Uncle Bertie made it," Tas said.
"That's just what my Uncle Trapspringer told me when he gave me a
bunch of maps for my coming-ofage present. Come to think of it, I've
never met an Uncle Bertie. I wonder if he's even my Uncle Bertie."
"How did you get to Solace in the first place?" Gisella
demanded, ignoring his chatter. "You must remember the route, being a
map aficionado and all."
"Of course I remember. I came up from the south, through
Thorbardin and Pax Tharkas, just like you did," the kender said
simply.
"Pardon me for asking, but why didn't we just go back that same
way?" said Woodrow.
Tas looked a little exasperated and held up his hands. "Don't
look at me. Gisella's the one who was in a hurry and wanted to take a
short cut
|