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

“and in any case the magic is not directed at us.”

“That’s good, guv’nor.” Mudge had to work to stifle a

yawn, blinked in surprise. “Strong stuff ‘e’s workin’.”

By the time Jon-Tom sang the final strains of “Peace-

ful Easy Feeling,” the pirate ship was sailing aimlessly. Its

bloodthirsty crew lay snoring soundly on the deck, in the

hold below, and even up in the rigging. He took a step

toward Corroboc and ran his eyes over the captain’s attire

without finding what he was hunting for. Then he joined

his friends.

“Did any of you see where he put his keyring?”

“No, mate,” Mudge whispered, “but we’d best find

’em fast.”

Jon-Tom started for the door leading to the captain’s

cabin, then hesitated uncertainly. Once inside, where would

he look? There might be a sealed chest, many drawers, a

hidden place beneath a nest or mattress, and the keyring

might not even be kept in the cabin. Maybe Sasheem had

charge of the keys, or maybe one of the other ship’s

officers.

He couldn’t go looking for them and still sing the

sleep spell. Already some of the somnolent crew were

beginning to stir impatiently. And he didn’t have the

slightest idea how long the spellsong would remain in

effect.

“Do somethin’, mate!” Mudge was tugging uselessly

on his own ankle chains.

“Where should I look for the keys? They’re not on the

captain.” Suddenly words in his mind, suggestive of

something once remembered. Not suggestions of a place to

hunt for keys, but snatches of a song.

130

Alan Dean Poster

A song about steel cat eyes and felines triumphant.