Read The Magic Of Krynn for Free Online

peak in all of Krynn. A black
     thunderhead rose in the sky above it, raining lightning down on the barren slopes. The
     small traces of life and dust that clung to the rocks were buffeted by a cold and endless
     wind.
    For three centuries, no living mortals traveled closer than sighting distance of the peak,
     their journeys and curiosity warned away by the boiling storm. Lords and kings turned
     their attention to other matters;
    great wizards investigated less dangerous secrets.
    So it was when, upon finding an intruder within the castle, the citadel's master became at
     once confounded, enraged, and fascinated. He ordered his unliving servants to bring the
     intruder to his study for questioning, then retired there to await the arrival.
    Catching the intruder was no mean feat, since he was quite skilled at evading pursuit. In
     due time, however, two of the manlike automatons which served the Magus entered the study,
     the intruder suspended between them by his arms.
    The Magus looked carefully at the intruder, who stopped kicking the moment he saw the
     Magus. The intruder was barely four feet in height and thinly built; he had bright brown
     eyes and the face of a ten-year-old human child. Narrow, pointed ears pressed against his
     light brown hair, which was pulled into a sort of pony tail on top of his head. The Magus
     recognized him as a kender, an annoying minor race that shared the world with him.
    The Magus was accustomed to seeing terror on the faces
    of his captives. It disarmed him to see this one look upon him with open-mouthed surprise
     and lively curiosity. The captive then smiled like a boy caught with one hand in a pastry
     jar.
    “Hey,” said the intruder, “you must be one of those necro-guys-necromantics,
     thaumaturboes, what-cha- callums.” He craned his neck and surveyed the study as if it were
     the living room of a friend. “Nice place you've got here.”
    Mildly annoyed, the Magus nodded. “I have not had visitors here for many years. Today, I
     find you here within my fortress. For the sake of courtesy, I will first ask your name
     before I demand an explanation of how you got in here.”
    The intruder struggled for a moment, but he accom- plished nothing against the grip of his
     eight-foot-tall captors. With a sigh, he resigned himself to talking his way out.
    “My name is Tasslehoff Burrfoot,” he began brightly. He almost added, “My friends call me
     Tas,” but decided not to bother. “Could your guards put me down? My arms hurt”
    The Magus ignored his request. “Tasslehoff. An un- familiar name, though I recognize
     Burrfoot as common among the kenderfolk. How did you get into this fortress?”
    Tasslehoff smiled, all innocence, though he was sure that his arms were getting bruised.
     “Oh, I dunno, I was wandering by and saw your place up here, so I thought I'd step in, see
     how you were doing-”
    The Magus hissed as if he were a viper that had been stepped upon. Tasslehoff's voice
     faded away. “That's not going to work, is it?” Tasslehoff finished lamely.
    “Wretch!” said the Magus savagely. His pale, skull-like face grew dead white with rage. “I
     am wasting time on you. Speak plainly!”
    Though kender love to infuriate and tease, they can tell when they have pushed someone too
     far. “Yes, well,” Tasslehoff began, “I don't know how I got in here. I mean, uh, I put
     this ring on”-he nodded toward his left hand, still held tightly by an automaton- “and I
     teleported in, but, um, I don't know why I did. It just, uh, happened.”
    A fragile silence reigned. The Magus stared at the kender speculatively. “That ring?” he
     said, gesturing toward the heavily engraved device with the enormous emerald that rested
     on the
    kender's third finger. “Yes,” Tasslehoff said, sighing. "I found it last week, and it
    looked interesting at the time; well, I put it on, and then I teleported.“ The kender
     grinned in mild