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

Would come and would follow back to the pool. And the

surprise waiting there.

She stood before the ruins and waited.

Within, there was movement she could not see. Drom’s

head lifted, his nostrils twitching. He blinked at the bodies

sleeping soundly around him. It was his turn on watch.

Trotting silently so as not to disturb his newfound

friends, he moved to one window slit and peered out.

Standing alone in the moonlight was a small, slim figure.

THE DAY or THE DISSONANCE

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A human figure, young and pure. Ancient emotions began

to pluck at him.

Nodding at no one in particular, he quietly began push-

ing at the boulder which blocked the entryway. He worked

with care, wanting to make positive identification of the

beckoning shape outside without waking his companions.

When the stone had been edged to one side he walked

through the opening and stepped out onto the grass,

sniffing at the air, which was heavy with the girl’s clean,

sweet-smelling scent. She was alone. The night was still,

and there was no wind to mask concealed odors.

He walked over to the girl, who eyed him nervously and

took a step backward.

“Hello. You’re… awfully pretty.” She licked her lips,

glanced over a shoulder once, then said confidently, “Won’t

you come and walk with me? It’s a nice night in the

forest.”

“In a minute, little one. There’s something I have to do

first.” Turning, he moved back to the ruins and stuck his

head inside, let out a soft whinny. “Wake up.”

There were stirrings on the floor. Lightest of sleepers,

Roseroar sat up fast when she saw that the boulder defending