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. "What does 'P.C.' mean?" he asked,
pointing to the letters inked after the title "Krynn."
Gisella snatched up the map and stared at the letters. "
'Pre-Cataclysm,' you idiots! It means preCataclysm! We've been
following a map that predates the Cataclysm!"
"Really?" Tas said dubiously. "I thought it stood for
'positively confirmed'."
Dazed, Gisella just shook her head. "Serves me right for
listening to a kender. Pre-Cataclysm, indeed!" "That changes things,
does it?" Woodrow asked innocently.
"A little," Tas gulped.
"A little?" Gisella gaped at the kender. "New mountain ranges
erupted, and whole sections of land slipped into the ground and formed
seas!"
Tasslehoff looked subdued. "Well, most of the cities stayed in
the same places," he moaned.
"Yeah, those that weren't sucked up by rushing waters,
mountains, and volcanoes!" Gisella rolled her eyes and sighed heavily
in resignation. "Well, that about hangs it -- we can't sail this wagon
on the sea.
We're going to have to backtrack, and there's not a chance on
Krynn that we'll reach Kendermore in time for the Autumn Faire. This
is going to set me way back."
"Sail wagon on sea," Fondu remarked.
Gisella ignored his mocking voice. "Come on, Woodrow," she said
wearily, starting for camp. "We've got a long trip ahead of us."
But Fondu stumbled along at her side, tugging at her wrap. "Sail
wagon on sea!" he repeated.
She stopped and brushed him off. "Wouldn't that be nice, Fondu,"
she said patronizingly
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