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

A hand the size of a bus lowered to block her from

Jon-Tom’s sight.

“THE MEDICINE YOU MAY TAKE. IF YOU CAN SATISFY

ME. AND YOU HAVE SEEN WHAT HAPPENS TO MERE MOR-

TALS WHO DISPLEASE ME.”

Jon-Tom was beginning to understand why Crancularn

had acquired a less than favorable reputation among travel-

ers in this part of the world, in spite of the miracles it

offered for sale.

“YOU THINK LONG, MORTAL. Do NOT THINK TO TRICK

ME BY SOME FOOLISHNESS SUCH AS ASKING ME TO SHRINK

MYSELF INTO A BOTTLE.” A hand hovered above them and

Folly flinched. “I DON’T NEED TO CHANGE MY SIZE TO

SHOW MY POWER. ALL I NEED TO DO IS PUT MY THUMB ON

YOUR HEAD.”

“Whatever happened to the customer’s always right?”

Jon-Tom shot back.

The djinn hesitated. “WHAT OTHERWORLDLY IDIOCY is

THAT?”

“Just good business practice.”

“A MORTAL WITH A KNACK FOR BUSINESS.” The djinn

looked interested. “I WILL LET YOU PAY WITH YOUR

BUSINESS, THEN, AND PERHAPS YOU AND YOUR FRIENDS

WILL LEAVE HERE WITH YOUR BONES INTACT. YOU ARE A

SPELLSINGER. I HAVE HEARD MANY SPELLS INGERS, BUT

NONE THAT PLEASED ME. I DO NOT THINK I KNOW OF ONE

FROM YOUR WORLD. SlNG ME A SPELLSONG OF YOUR

WORLD, WORM. SlNG ME A SONG THAT WfLL AMUSE ME,

INTRIGUE ME. SlNG ME SOMETHING DIFFERENT. THEN,

AND ONLY THEN, WILL I LET YOU TAKE THE MEDICINE

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Alan Dean Poster

AND GO!” The djinn folded arms with thick muscles like

the trunks of great trees.

“THINK CAREFULLY ON WHAT YOU WILL SING. I GROW

IMPATIENT QUICKLY AND WILL NOT ALLOW YOU A SEC-

OND CHANCE.”

Jon-Tom stood sweating and thinking furiously. What