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

protein.”

“We’re not interested in changing our eating habits,”

said another of the Elders. “We like nectar and honey and

ambrosia.”

“All right, all right!” Jon-Tom said frantically. “Then

there’s only one way out. The only other way to reduce

your craving for protein is for you to start burning off all

these extra ounces you’ve been accumulating. You’ve got

to break the cycle.” He picked up the duar.

“At least give me a chance to help you. Maybe I can’t

do it with spellsinging, but there are all kinds of magic.”

“Consider carefully, man,” Grelgen warned him. “Don’t

you think we’re aware that we have a little problem? Don’t

you think we’ve tried to use our own magic to solve it?”

“But none of you is a spellsinger.”

“No. That’s not our kind of magic. But we’ve tried

everything. We’re stuck with what we are. Your spellsinging

can’t help us. Nothing can help us. We’ve experimented

with every type of magic known to the enchanted folk, as

well as that employed by the magic-workers of the greater

world. We’re trapped by our own metabolisms.” She

rolled up her sleeves. “Now let’s get on with this without

any more bullshitting, okay?” She raised the wand again.

“Just one chance, just give me one chance!” he pleaded.

She swung the wand around to point it at him, and he

flinched. “I’m warning you, buster, if this is some sort of

trick, you’ll cook before her.”

“There’s one kind of magic I don’t think you’ve tried.”

She made a rude noise. “Worm dung! We’ve tried it

all.”

“Even aerobics?”

Grelgen opened her mouth, then closed it. She turned to