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

of the pirate ship. Rude gestures and bloodthirsty curses

filled the air. Above all sounded a thunderous cackling

from Corroboc. The faces fled the railing, to reappear

elsewhere on the ship as the crew swarmed up the masts.

Oars began to dip as dull-eyed galley slaves took up the

cue provided by whip and drum. The big ship began to

come about.

But this time the sloop was sailing with the wind to

port. The square-rigged pirate craft could not tack as well

as the modern, fore-rigged sloop, nor could it overtake

them on oar power. Still, with the galley slaves driven to

collapse, it looked for a moment as if Corroboc might still

close the distance between vessels. Then Mudge finally

puzzled out the rigging that lifted the spinnaker. The

racing sail ballooned to its full extent, filled with wind,

and the sloop fairly leaped away from its pursuers.

THE DAY OF THE DISSONANCE

133

“We made it, we’re away!” Jon-Tom shouted gleefully.

Mudge joined him in the stern. The otter balanced

precariously on the bobbing aft end railing, turned his back

to the pirate ship, and pulled down his pants. Bending

over, he made wonderfully insulting faces between his

legs. The pirates responded with blood-chilling promises

of what they’d do if they caught the sloop, but their words,

like their ship, were rapidly falling astern.

“Yes, we made it.” Jalwar glanced speculatively up at

the billowing sails. “If the wind holds.”

As soon as his audience had dropped out of sight,

Mudge ceased his contortions and jumped to the deck,

buttoning his shorts.