is magic to us. We are starting to look like the enchanted
folk once more. Even I,” she finished proudly. She did a
deep knee-bend to prove it, something she couldn’t have
imagined doing five days earlier. Of course, she did it
while hovering in midair, which made it somewhat easier.
Still, the accomplishment was undeniable.
“You are free to go,” she told them.
Roseroar stepped forward and cautiously thrust out a
paw. The invisible wall of fire which had kept them
imprisoned had vanished, leaving behind only a little
lingering heat. The tigress stepped easily over the tiny
stone wall.
“Our gratitude is boundless,” Grelgen went on. “You
said you came to us for help.” She executed a neat little
2OO
Alan Dean Foster
THE DAY OF THE DISSONANCE
2O1
pirouette in the air, delighting in her rediscovered mobility.
“What is it you wish to know?”
“We need directions to a certain town,” he told her. “A,
place called Crancularn.”
“Ah. An ambiguous destination. Not mine to
why. Wait here.” She flew toward the village, droning
a wasp, and returned several minutes later with four newh
slimmed Elders. They settled on the wall. Between them,
the four Elders held a piece of parchment six inches
square. It was the biggest piece of writing material the
village could produce.
“Crancularn, you said?” Jon-Tom nodded at her.
She rolled up the sleeves of her burgundy-and-lime
dress, waved the wand over the parchment as she spoke.
The parchment twisted like a leaf in the wind. It continued
to quiver as a line of gold appeared on its surface, tracing