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

“Of course. You’re a friend, Folly. A good friend.”

“Is that all?” As she ran there was a lot of movement

beneath the damp nightdress. Jon-Tom was having a diffi-

cult time concentrating on the street ahead. “Just a good

friend?”

Roseroar listened with one ear to the infantile dialogue

while trying her best to ignore it. Idiot humans! She made

certain to inspect every side street they passed. Surely, as

soon as the Friends of the Street finished rounding up as

many escapees as they could, they’d contact the police

about the break-in.

Besides worrying about that new problem, she had to

endure the banalities mouthed by the adolescent human

female who was flirting shamelessly with Jon-Tom.

So what? She considered her discomfiture carefully.

Why, she asked herself, should she find such harmless

chatter so aggravating? Admirable the spellsinger might

be, but he wasn’t even a member of a related species. Any

relationship besides mutual respect and strong friendship

174

Alan Dean Poster

was clearly out of the question. The very thought was

absurd! The man was a skinny, furless thing less than half

her size. It made no sense for her to concern herself with

his personal business.

She assured herself her interest was only natural. Jon-

Tom was a friend, a companion now. It was just as he’d

said to the girl: it hurt to see anyone taken advantage of.

Roseroar wasn’t about to let this scheming adolescent take

advantage of him. And take advantage of him Folly

would, if given half a chance. Roseroar was sure of that

much. She shook her head as Jon-Tom allowed himself to