Read Online The Cataclysm by Margaret Weis, Tracy Hickman - Free Book Online
Authors: Margaret Weis, Tracy Hickman
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wagon. The light of a single candle
illuminated scrolls and parchments. Finally, she found what she was searching for - a
bundle of yellowed sheets of vellum.
Matya untied the bundle's silken ribbon and unrolled the sheets, spreading them out on the
lid of the box. They were maps, rendered in fading ink. A kender had given them to Matya
some years ago in exchange for a silver knife. It had proved to be one of the few
unprofitable trades Matya had ever made. She soon had learned that the maps contained many
mistakes. They showed land where there were seas, mountains where there were deserts, and
populous cities in which no one lived. She should have known better than to trust a
kender. They were little tricksters, all of them. Still, poor as the maps were, they were
the only maps she had, and she was curious about something.
She shuffled through the maps until she found one that had SOLAMNIA written on the top.
The mountains were missing, and the map showed Caergoth to be an inland city, while Matya
knew very well that it stood on the coast. Some features had been added to the map in a
bold, scrawling hand, and Matya suspected these were the kender's own additions. Among
other things, the kender's scrawls showed the highways leading to Garnet and Caergoth, and
the crossroads as well.
“Now where is it?” Matya muttered, running a finger over the yellowed, cracking vellum.
“It has to be here.” Then she found what she sought. Written in small, faded letters was
the word TAMBOR. By the markings on the map, the village of Tambor was no more than ten
miles north and east of the crossroads. “But that would put it in the foothills of the
mountains, though this map shows southern Solamnia to be nothing but plains,” she added in disgust. The kender had written something beside
the spot marked TAMBOR. She had to squint to make out the scrawling words. They read, DEESTROYD IN
KATAKLISM. Matya mumbled an oath under her breath.
If this was true, then the village the knight sought had been destroyed more than fifty
years ago. So much for his plea for help! A liar, as she'd suspected. She didn't know why
that hurt her.
Trevarre called out. Matya hastily put away the maps. She found the knight still sitting
by the wagon wheel. The porcelain doll stood on the ground before him.
“It is almost time,” he said, nodding toward the west. A pearly glow had touched the
distant horizon. Solinari, the largest of Krynn's three moons, soon would rise.
Matya sat on a fallen log near the knight, eyes on the doll. While she did not believe
Trevarre's story, she was curious to see what he would do when the doll failed to speak.
“Wait,” Trevarre said softly. “Just wait.”
Matya sighed, resting her chin on a hand, and waited. This was rapidly growing tedious.
Finally, a thin, silvery sliver of Solinari lifted above the far-off horizon.
The doll began to sing.
Matya stared at the porcelain statuette in shock. The maiden's lips moved. A sweet,
wordless song drifted upon the night air. There was no doubt but that the song came from
the doll.
Matya shot a look at Trevarre. The knight's pale eyes were triumphant. The song continued,
a sad melody that tugged at Matya's heart. Finally the sweet music ended, and the doll
spoke.
“Please, come to me, whoever finds me,” it said, its voice cool and lilting but filled
with sorrow as well. “I beg you. Come to the village of Tambor. I need help desperately.
Please”
Solinari lifted full above the horizon, and the doll fell silent. Matya's eyes glimmered
as she stared at it calculatingly.
“An enchanted doll!” she said to herself. “Why, it is worth a king's ransom.”
“Do you believe my tale now?” Trevarre asked, a slight smile beneath his mousy moustache.
Matya nodded. “I believe you.” She was glad to believe in him, too, but she didn't tell him that. “I have something
illuminated scrolls and parchments. Finally, she found what she was searching for - a
bundle of yellowed sheets of vellum.
Matya untied the bundle's silken ribbon and unrolled the sheets, spreading them out on the
lid of the box. They were maps, rendered in fading ink. A kender had given them to Matya
some years ago in exchange for a silver knife. It had proved to be one of the few
unprofitable trades Matya had ever made. She soon had learned that the maps contained many
mistakes. They showed land where there were seas, mountains where there were deserts, and
populous cities in which no one lived. She should have known better than to trust a
kender. They were little tricksters, all of them. Still, poor as the maps were, they were
the only maps she had, and she was curious about something.
She shuffled through the maps until she found one that had SOLAMNIA written on the top.
The mountains were missing, and the map showed Caergoth to be an inland city, while Matya
knew very well that it stood on the coast. Some features had been added to the map in a
bold, scrawling hand, and Matya suspected these were the kender's own additions. Among
other things, the kender's scrawls showed the highways leading to Garnet and Caergoth, and
the crossroads as well.
“Now where is it?” Matya muttered, running a finger over the yellowed, cracking vellum.
“It has to be here.” Then she found what she sought. Written in small, faded letters was
the word TAMBOR. By the markings on the map, the village of Tambor was no more than ten
miles north and east of the crossroads. “But that would put it in the foothills of the
mountains, though this map shows southern Solamnia to be nothing but plains,” she added in disgust. The kender had written something beside
the spot marked TAMBOR. She had to squint to make out the scrawling words. They read, DEESTROYD IN
KATAKLISM. Matya mumbled an oath under her breath.
If this was true, then the village the knight sought had been destroyed more than fifty
years ago. So much for his plea for help! A liar, as she'd suspected. She didn't know why
that hurt her.
Trevarre called out. Matya hastily put away the maps. She found the knight still sitting
by the wagon wheel. The porcelain doll stood on the ground before him.
“It is almost time,” he said, nodding toward the west. A pearly glow had touched the
distant horizon. Solinari, the largest of Krynn's three moons, soon would rise.
Matya sat on a fallen log near the knight, eyes on the doll. While she did not believe
Trevarre's story, she was curious to see what he would do when the doll failed to speak.
“Wait,” Trevarre said softly. “Just wait.”
Matya sighed, resting her chin on a hand, and waited. This was rapidly growing tedious.
Finally, a thin, silvery sliver of Solinari lifted above the far-off horizon.
The doll began to sing.
Matya stared at the porcelain statuette in shock. The maiden's lips moved. A sweet,
wordless song drifted upon the night air. There was no doubt but that the song came from
the doll.
Matya shot a look at Trevarre. The knight's pale eyes were triumphant. The song continued,
a sad melody that tugged at Matya's heart. Finally the sweet music ended, and the doll
spoke.
“Please, come to me, whoever finds me,” it said, its voice cool and lilting but filled
with sorrow as well. “I beg you. Come to the village of Tambor. I need help desperately.
Please”
Solinari lifted full above the horizon, and the doll fell silent. Matya's eyes glimmered
as she stared at it calculatingly.
“An enchanted doll!” she said to herself. “Why, it is worth a king's ransom.”
“Do you believe my tale now?” Trevarre asked, a slight smile beneath his mousy moustache.
Matya nodded. “I believe you.” She was glad to believe in him, too, but she didn't tell him that. “I have something
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