Foster, Dean - Spellsinger 03 - The Day of the Dissonance

port. The square-rigged pirate craft could not tack as well

as the modern, fore-rigged sloop, nor could it overtake

them on oar power. Still, with the galley slaves driven to

collapse, it looked for a moment as if Corroboc might still

close the distance between vessels. Then Mudge finally

puzzled out the rigging that lifted the spinnaker. The

racing sail ballooned to its full extent, filled with wind,

and the sloop fairly leaped away from its pursuers.

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133

"We made it, we're away!" Jon-Tom shouted gleefully.

Mudge joined him in the stern. The otter balanced

precariously on the bobbing aft end railing, turned his back

to the pirate ship, and pulled down his pants. Bending

over, he made wonderfully insulting faces between his

legs. The pirates responded with blood-chilling promises

of what they'd do if they caught the sloop, but their words,

like their ship, were rapidly falling astern.

"Yes, we made it." Jalwar glanced speculatively up at

the billowing sails. "If the wind holds."

As soon as his audience had dropped out of sight,

Mudge ceased his contortions and jumped to the deck,

buttoning his shorts.

"We'll make it all right, guv'nor." He was smiling

broadly as he gave Jon-Tom a friendly whack on the back.

"Bake me for a brick, mate, but you sure 'ad me fooled!

'Ere I was expectin' you to conjure up somethin' like a

ten-foot-tall demon to demolish them bastards, and instead

you slickered me as well as them."

"I knew that if I tried anything overt, Corroboc would

have me riding a pike before the day was out." Jon-Tom

adjusted their heading.

"Aye, that 'e would. Crikey but that were a neat slip o'

thought, puttin' 'em all gentle to beddy-bye like you did,

and then freein' up the monster missus there." He nodded

in Roseroar's direction.

"Actually I'd intended to go looking for the key,"

Jon-Tom told him, trying to hide his embarrassment.

"When I realized I didn't have the slightest idea where

Corroboc's keyring was hidden I knew the only chance we

had left was to free Roseroar."

The tigress stepped down from the mast to join them,

staring back over the stern. "Ah only wish ah'd had a few

minutes to mahself on that boat." Her eyes narrowed and

she growled low enough to chill the blood of her compan-

ions. "That fust mate, fo example. Wouldn't he have been

surprised when he'd woke up without his—"

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Alan Dean Poster

"Roseroar," Jon-Tom chided her, "that's no way for a

lady to talk."

She showed sharp teeth, huge fangs. "That depends on

the lady, don't it, Jon-Tom?" Suddenly she pushed past

him, frowning as she squinted into the distance.

"What's wrong?" he asked, turned to look aft.

She spoke evenly, unafraid, and ready.

"Looks like we ain't finished with ol' Corroboc yet."

IX

"Gel below, Jalwar," Jon-Tom told the ferret. "You'll be

of no use to us on deck."

"I must disobey, sir." The oldster had picked up a long

fishing gaff and was hefting it firmly. "I am not going

back onto that floating purgatory. I'd rather die here."

Jon-Tom nodded, held his staff ready in front of him. In

planning and executing their subtle flight from the pirate

ship he'd forgotten one thing. Forgotten it because he'd

been in mis strange world so long he'd come to think of it

as normal. So when he'd planned their escape he hadn't

considered that they might have to deal with the fact that

Corroboc and several of his crew could fly.

There were only six of them. The captain must have

threatened all of them with dismemberment to force so

small a group to make the attack. Behind the parrot flew a

couple of big ravens, a hawk, and a small falcon. They

were armed with thin spears and light swords.

Jon-Tom set the sloop on automatic pilot, which left him

free to join the fight. Jalwar thought the flashing red light

of this new magic fascinating.

The fliers were fast and agile. Corroboc in particular

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might be short an eye and a leg, but there was nothing

wrong with his wings. He dove and twisted as he thrust,

keeping just out of range of his former prisoner's weapons.

Nevertheless, it soon became clear that the pirates were

overmatched.

Corroboc's strategy was good. It called for his crew to

stay just beyond sword range while striking with their

needlelike spears. It might even have worked except for

the one joker in the sloop's deck. With his longbow,

Mudge gleefully picked off first the falcon and then wounded

one of the ravens.

This forced the attackers to close with their quarry, and

their agility couldn't compensate for their relatively small

size. One of Roseroar's spinning swords sliced the wounded

raven in half. Then another of Mudge's arrows pierced the

hawk's thin armor. When he saw that he couldn't hope to

win either at long range or in close, Corroboc ordered a

retreat.

"Have a care for your gullets, scum!" the parrot shouted

at them as he danced angrily in the air just out of arrow

range. "I swear your fate be sealed! The oceans, nay, the

whole world be not big enough to hide you from me.

Wherever you run to old Corroboc will find you, and when

he do, you'll wish you'd never been borned!"

"Blow it out your arse, mate!" Mudge followed this

with a long string of insulting comments on the captain's

dubious ancestry. Roseroar listened with distaste.

"Such uncouthness! Ah do declah, it makes me queasy

all ovah. Ah do so long fo the refined conversation of

civilized company."

The otter overheard and cast a dignified eye back at her.

"Cor! I'll 'ave you know, me elephantine kitten, that me

language is as fucking refined as anyone's!"

"Yes," she agreed sweetly. "Ah surely don't know how

ah could have thought otherwise."

Jon-Tom stepped between them. "What are you two

THE DAY or THE DISSONANCE

137

arguing about this time? We won, and we're safely on

course again."

A shaky, no longer cocky voice came from the gangway.

"What... what did we win? Who won?"

Jon-Tom remembered Folly. "Take the wheel, Roseroar."

"Jon-Tom, if n yo want mah opinion, ah think—!"

He disengaged the autopilot. The boat heeled sharply to

port, and Roseroar was forced to grab the wheel to keep it

from spinning wildly.

Jon-Tom searched the gangway, finally discovered Folly

huddled far back in a lower bunk. Within the sloop's

clean, quiet confines she looked suddenly fragile. The iron

collar was an ugly dark stain around her pale neck.

He studied it thoughtfully. The sloop was well stocked.

If he searched, he was certain he could find a hacksaw or

something with which to cut the metal.

"Relax, calm yourself." He spoke gently, soothingly.

"You're free. Just as I promised. Well, not completely

free," he corrected himself, smiling encouragingly. "You're

still stuck with us. But you can forget about Corroboc.

You'll never have to worry about him again. I spellsang

them to sleep. You too. While they all slept, we escaped."

Her reply was halting. "Then... you are a wizard.

And I doubted you."

"Forget it. Sometimes I doubt it myself." She was

swaying on the bunk and he was suddenly concerned.

"Hey, you don't look so good."

"I'm so tired...." She put her hand to her forehead

and fell over into his arms. He was acutely aware of her