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

yes…I believe I have this in stock.” She glanced back at

Jen-Tom. “Your devotion to your mentor does you credit.”

Which made him feel more than a little guilty, since the

main reason he’d undertaken the journey was to protect his

only chance of returning home by ensuring Clothahump’s

continued good health.

“You overpraise my altruism.”

“I think not.” She stared at him in the most peculiar

fashion. “You are better than you give yourself credit for.

That is why you would make a good adjudicator. Your

good instincts outweigh your common sense.”

For the second time since arriving at the store Jon-Tom’s

eyes widened. “How did you know that I was studying to

be a lawyer?”

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Alan Dean Foster

“Lucky guess,” said Snooth absently, dismissing the

matter despite Jon-Tom’s desire to pursue it further. She

held out the paper with the formula written on it. “May I

hold on to this?”

Jon-Tom shrugged. “Why not? It’s the medicine we

need.”

Snooth tucked the paper neatly into her pouch. Again

Jon-Tom thought he saw something moving about within.

If Snooth was carrying a joey, it was evidently either too

immature or too shy to show itself.

“Come on in.” She turned and pushed wide the door.

Her visitors mounted the steps and crossed the porch.

The front room of the building was furnished in simple

kaleidoscopic style. To one side was another rocking chair,

only instead of being fashioned of wood it was composed

of transparent soap bubbles clinging to a thin metal frame.

The bubbles were moving in slow motion and looked fragile