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

his lips. They were alone on the deck except for the old

helmsman. He risked whispering.

“Who are you, girl?” No reply. Only those empty blue

eyes, staring. “What’s your name?”

“Leave ‘er be, mate,” said Mudge softly. “Can’t you

see there’s not much left o’ ‘er? She’s mad or near enough,

or maybe they cut out ‘er tongue to keep ‘er from screamin’.”

12O

Alan Dean Foster

THE DAY OF THE DISSONANCE

121

“None of those,” said the helmsman. He spoke without

taking his eyes from the ship’s course. “That’s Folly, the

captain’s toy. He took her off a ship that sank several

months ago. She’s been nuthin’ but trouble since. Uncooper-

ative, unappreciative when the captain tried bein’ nice to

her. I don’t know why he doesn’t throw her overboard and

be done with it. It was folly to bring her aboard, and folly

to keep her, so Folly’s been her name.”

“But what’s her real name?”

A thin, barely audible reply came from within the

shelter. “I have no name. Folly’s as good as any.”

“You can talk. They haven’t broken you yet.”

She glared bitterly at Jon-Tom. “What do you know

about anything? I’ve been watching you.” Her mouth

twisted. “You’re hurting now. I watched when they took

your boat and brought you aboard. The tigress will be

around awhile. The old one won’t last two weeks. The

otter a little longer, if he keeps his mouth shut.

“As for you,” she eyed Jon-Tom contemptuously, “you’ll

say the wrong thing and lose your tongue. Or worse.”

“What happened to you?” Jon-Tom was careful to keep

his voice down and his arms moving lest Sasheem or one

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