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

Redrock by the time the next moon begins to rise, you

never will.” He slapped the camel on the side of its neck.

The animal turned to gaze back up at him.

“Let’s have none of that, Bartim, or you will find

yourself walking. 1 am measuring my pace, as are the rest

of the brethren.”

“The time is upon us!”

“No less so upon me than thee,” said the camel with a

pained expression. He turned to glance back to where

Jon-Tom was beginning to fall behind. “We will see you

in Redrock, strangers, or we will drink the long drink to

your memory.”

212

Alan Dean Foster

THE DAY or THE DISSONANCE

213

Panting hard in the rising light, Jon-Tom slowed to a

walk, unable to maintain the pace. On firm ground he

might have kept up, but not in the soft sand. Roseroar and

Mudge were equally winded.

“What was that all about, Jon-Tom?” asked Roseroar.

“I’m not sure. It didn’t make much sense.”

“Ah you not a spellsingah?”

“I know my songs, but not other magic. If Clothahump

were here …”

“If ‘is wizardship were ‘ere we wouldn’t be, mate.”

“What do you think of their warning?”

Sand was building up around the otter’s feet, and he

kicked angrily at it. “They were both scared. Wot of I

couldn’t say, but scared they were. I think we’d better

listen to ’em and get a move on. Make Redrock by

nightfall, they said. If they can do it, so can we. Let’s get

to it.”

They began to jog, keeping up a steady pace and taking

turns in the lead. They barely paused to eat and made

lavish use of their water. The more they drank, the less

there was to carry, and if the warning was as significant as

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