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

THE DAY OF THE DISSONANCE

105

off along with the bad.” His voice fell to a whisper. “I

was home, Roseroar! Home.”

“Ah am sorry fo yo, Jon-Tom. Ah really and truly am.”

“You’ve got a big heart, Roseroar. Along with every-

thing else.” He smiled at her, then walked toward the front

of the boat. Maybe he was wrong. Maybe there was still a

chance, however faint that seemed now.

The otter was leaning over the side. “How are you

going to find out where we are?” Jon-Tom asked.

Mudge glanced up at him. “That’s easy enough, guv’nor.

All you ‘ave to do is ask.” He turned his face to the water

racing past the prow and shouted, “Hey, you, where are

we?”

Jon-Tom peered over the railing to see the playful,

smooth, gray-backed shapes sliding easily through the

water, hitching a free ride on the boat’s bow-wave. One of

them lifted its bottle-nose clear of the surface and squeaked

a reply.

“You’re at half past a quarter after.” Giggles rose from

around the speaker as the rest of the dolphins vented their

appreciation of the little joke.

Mudge gave Jon-Tom an apologetic look. “Sorry, mate,

but tain’t easy gettin’ a straight answer out o’ this bunch o’

sea-goin’ comedians.”

“Never mind,” Jon-Tom sighed. “The fact that it

answered at all is proof enough of which world we’re in.”

“Hey:ya,” said another of the slim swimmers, “have

you guys heard the one about the squid and the Third

Mistress of Pack Thirty?”

“No.” Mudge leaned forward, interested.

The dolphin now speaking sidled effortlessly up to the

side of the speeding sloop. “It seems she…” Jon-Tom