Spellsinger 03 – The Day of the Dissonance by Foster, Alan Dean

is goin’ on back ‘ere?”

Roseroar stood aside, guarding the railing, and eyed the

otter uncertainly. “There ah people in a boat. We must be

neah some land.”

“I ‘card. That’s bloody marvelous. They goin’ to lead

us in?”

“I think they’re frightened of something,” Roseroar

told him.

Jon-Tom was crying, crying and jabbing away at the

starter. “You don’t understand, you don’t understand!”

The sound of the ski boat’s outboard was fading with

distance. Still the engine refused to turn over.

Then there was a deep growl. Roseroar jumped and

grabbed the rail as the boat began to move.

“Where are they?” Jon-Tom cried, trying to steer and

search the fog at the same time. “Which way did they

go?”

“I do not know, Jon-Tom,” said Jalwar helplessly. “I

did not see.” He pointed uncertainly into the fog off the

bow. “That way, I think.”

102

Alan Dean Foster

Jon-Tom increased their speed and the diesel responded

efficiently. They couldn’t be far from the town of Nassau.

The foursome from New York had been out for the

afternoon only. Hadn’t the stockbroker said so? Besides,

they wore only swim suits and carried little in the way of

supplies. Surely he was near enough to hit the island! And

from Nassau it would be a short flight to the Florida coast.

To home, to Miami, Disneyworld, hotels, and soap operas

on TV in the afternoon. Images shoved purposefully into

the back of his mind sprang back to the fore: home.

He was home.

So crazed was he with hope and joy that he didn’t think

what the reaction would be to his arriving in Nassau with