with Clothahump. Although the wizard thought well of
him, Jon-Tom didn’t think Clothahump would take kindly
to the idea. For another, he hadn’t mastered his odd
abilities to the point where he could guarantee services for
value received, and might never achieve that degree of
expertise. He preferred to regard his spellsinging as a
talent of last resort, choosing to rely instead on his staff
and his wits to keep him out of trouble.
In fact, the duar provided him with far more pleasure
when he simply played it for fun, just like his battered old
Fender guitar back home. Now he played it to ease his
mind as he walked into town, strumming a few snatches of
very unmagical Neil Diamond while wishing he had Ted
Nugent’s way with strings. At the same time he had to be
careful in his selections. Diamond was innocuous enough.
13
14
Alan Dean Poster
If he tried a little Nugent—say, “Cat Scratch Fever” or
“Scream Dream”—there was no telling what he might
accidentally conjure up.
At least the weather favored his journey. It was early
spring- Deep within the Bellwoods, so named for the
bell-shaped leaves which produced a tinkling sound when
the wind blew through them, there was the smell of dew
and new blossoms on the air. Glass butterflies flew every-
where, their stained-glass wings sending shafts of brilliant
color twinkling over the ground. Peppermint bees striped
in psychedelic hues darted among the flowers.
One hitched a ride on his indigo shirt. Perhaps it thought
he was some kind of giant ambulatory flower. Jon-Tom