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

him,” Jon-Tom said disgustedly.

“Be that as it may, wizards can be very touchy about

such things. Zancresta dwells on evil spells and prepares

toxic presents and calls down all who cross him. He has

been dangerous to approach ever since this happened. The

only way for him to regain his self-respect and cancel his

shame is to do something to make himself again be

considered the equal of the turtie of the tree. Yet he sees

no way to do this. This Clothahump refuses all challenges

and duels.”

“Clothahump,” Jon-Tom explained politely, “doesn’t

think much of games.”

“Word travels that he does not because he is getting

senile.”

Jon-Tom didn’t reply. There was nothing to be gained by

arguing with Chenelska and angering him.

“Therefore, my master is badly frustrated, since there is

no way he can prove that he is truly the most skilled in the

wizardly arts.

“Word arrived recently about this severe sickness

Clothahump is suffering from and that he cannot cure with

his own magic, that he needs medicine obtainable only

from a land beyond Snarken. My master was delighted by

it.”

“When we get out of this,” Jon-Tom whispered to

Mudge, “I’m going to string Sorbl up by his feet and hang

him beak-first over an open bottle of brandy.”

“Mate, I truly ‘ope you get that opportunity,” said

Mudge.

“Thanks to the information the wizard’s famulus pro-

vided, we were able to locate and intercept you,” said

Chenelska.

“What does your master intend doing with us?”

“I do not know, man. For now, it would seem sufficient

to prevent you from carrying out your mission and returning