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

empty horizon. Mudge had no difficulty in matching the

ferret’s vision.

“I see ‘er, mate.”

. “What does she look like?”

“Rigged normal, not like this thing.” The last of

Jon-Tom’s hopes vanished. Not a speedboat, then. “Big,

two rows of oars. That I don’t like.”

“Why not?”

“Think about it, mate. Only a fool would try rowin’

across an ocean. Only a fool… and them that’s given no

choice in the business.”

The visitor was bearing down on them fast. Soon

Jon-Tom could make out the silhouette. “Can you see a

flag?”

Mudge stared hard. Then he began to shake. “That’s all

she wrote, mate. There’s a ‘eart with a knife through it

flyin’ from the yardartn. Pirates.” He raced sternward,

Jon-Tom hurrying after him.

“I thought only traders traveled the Glittergeist.”

“Aye, traders and them that preys on ’em.” The otter

was dancing frantically around Roseroar. “Do somethin’,

you bloody great caricature of a courtesan!”

Roseroar put the wheel hard over, said evenly, “They’ve

probably seen us already.”

“Jon-Tom, spellsing us out o’ ‘ere!” By now the huge,

swift shape of the pirate ship was bearing down on then-

stern. Strange figures lined the rails and the double rows of

oars dipped in unison.

“There’s not enough wind,” Roseroar observed. “What

there is, is at our back, but they’re supplemental’ their

own sails with those oahs.”

Jon-Tom was trying to untangle his duar from around

his neck. “Our engine’s out of diesel.” He found himself

eyeing the approaching behemoth in fascination. “Interest-

ing lines.”

“Interestin” my arse!” Mudge was saying frantically.