examined it with interest. Instead of the yellow-and-black
pattern he was accustomed to, his visitor’s abdomen was
striped pink, lemon yellow, orange, chocolate brown, and
bright blue. Man and insect regarded one another thought-
fully for a long moment. Deciding he was neither a source
of pollen or enlightenment, the bee droned off in search of
sweeter forage.
Lynchbany Towne was unchanged from the first time
Jon-Tom had seen it, on that rainy day when he, a strange-
to this world, had entered it accompanied by Mudge tl
otter. It was Mudge he sought now. He had no intention
striking out across the Glittergeist alone, no matter ho
much confidence Clothahump vested in him. There was
still far too much of the ways and customs of this place he
was ignorant of.
Mudge’s knowledge was of the practical and non-
intellectual variety. Too, nothing was more precious to the
otter than his own skin. He was sort of a furry walking
alarm, ready to jump or take whatever evasive action the
situation dictated at the barest suggestion of danger. Jon-
Tom intended to use him the way the allies had used
pigeons in World War I to detect the presence of poison
gas.
Mudge would have considered the analogy unflattering,
THE DAY OF THE DISSONANCE
15
but Jon-Tom didn’t care what the otter thought. Despite his
questionable morals and wavering sense of loyalty, the
otter had been a great help in the past and could be so
again.
Luck wasn’t with Jon-Tom, however. There was no sign
of Mudge in the taverns he normally frequented, nor word