Roseroar snarled as she assumed a defensive posture.
Coming straight at them, belching smoke and bellowing
raggedly, was a three-footed demon. A rabbit rode the
demon’s back. This individual wore a wide-brimmed felt
hat; a long-sleeved shirt of muslin, open halfway; and a
short mauve skirt similar to the kilts favored by the
THE DAY OF THE DISSONANCE
249
intelligent arboreals of this world. His enormous feet were
unshod.
The demon slowed as it approached. Jon-Tom drew in a
deep breath as it stopped in front of him and hastened to
reassure his companions. “It’s all right. It can’t harm
you.”
“How do yo know, Jon-Tom?” Roseroar kept her hands
on her sword hilts.
“Because I know what it is. It’s a Honda ATC Offroad
Three-wheeler.” He admired the red-painted demon. “Au-
tomatic too. I didn’t know Honda made an ATC with
automatic.”
“Funny name for a demon,” Mudge was muttering.
“Hiya,” said the rabbit cheerfully, revving the engine.
“Can I help you folks?”
“You sure can.” Jon-Tom pointed at the ATC. “Where’d
you get that?”
The rider raced the motor and Drom shied away. “From
the Shop of the Aether and Neither. Where else?”
Jon-Tom felt a burst of excitement. Maybe Clothahump
was right. The inexplicable presence of the ATC in this
world was proof enough that powerful magic was at work
here.
“That’s where we want to go.”
“Figures,” said the rabbit. “Nice of you to drop in. We
don’t get a lot of visitors here in Crancularn. For some
reason, travelers avoid us.”
“Might be your wonderful reputation,” Mudge told
him.
The rabbit eyed them appraisingly. “Strangers. Don’t