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

window.

At the same time, lights began to wink on throughout

the orphanage complex.

XI

So the otter's suspicions had been well founded, she

decided. That was the only possible explanation for the

mass escape in progress. She waited anxiously as Mudge

slipped down the rope. Folly followed closely.

Jon-Tom had just stepped through the window opening

and was climbing over the iron grate when something

whizzed past his head. It struck the street below. Roseroar

picked it up, found herself inspecting a small club. The

knobbed end was studded with nails. Not the kind of

disciplinary device one would expect a dormitory supervi-

sor or teacher to carry.

The last fleeing cub vanished down a narrow alleyway.

Within the orphanage, bells were clanging violently. Mudge

reached the bottom of the rope and jumped clear. Folly

slipped, fell the last five feet, and almost broke an ankle.

The reason for her fall was clear; a pile of pink linen

spiraled down on top of her.

"Bloody 'ell!" The otter looked upward and cursed. "I

'ad the other end tied to a bedpost. Someone must 'ave cut

it." He could see Jon-Tom hanging on to the grating with

one hand while trying to defend himself with his staff.

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THE DAY OF THE DISSONANCE

171

From within the storage closet outraged shouts were clear-

ly audible down on the street. The grating creaked loudly

as it bent on its hinges.

"They'll 'ave 'im in a minute," the otter muttered

helplessly, "if that old iron doesn't break free first."

Neither happened. Someone inside the supply room

jabbed outward with a spear. Jon-Tom leaned back to

dodge the deadly point, lost his grip, and fell. The staff

dropped from his fingers as he tumbled head over heels,

wrapped up in his lizard skin cape. Folly screamed. Lesser

wails came from dark shadows nearby as those few chil-

dren who'd paused to catch their breath saw their benefac-

tor fall.

But there was no sickening thud of flesh meeting stone.

Roseroar grunted softly. It was the only hint of any strain

as she easily caught the plunging Jon-Tom in both arms.

He pushed away the cape which had become wrapped

around his head and stared up at her.

"Thanks, Roseroar." She grinned, set him down gently.

He adjusted his attire and recovered his staff. The duar,

still slung across his back, had survived the fall unscathed.

"'Ell of a catch, luv!" Mudge gave the tigress a

complimentary whack on the rump, darted out of reach

before her paw could knock him silly. There were several

faces staring down at them from the open window, yelling

and issuing dire promises. Jon-Tom ignored them.

"Y'all okay?" Roseroar inquired solicitously.

"Fine." He slung the cape back over his shoulders,

brushed at his face. "If you hadn't caught me, Clothahump

would have a longer wait for his medicine."

"And y'all brought out the girl, ah see."

Folly stepped toward her. "I am not a girl! I'm as

grown-up as you are."

Roseroar lifted her eyebrows as she regarded the skimp

of a human. "Man deah, no one is as grown-up as ah

am."

"Depends on whether someone prefers quality to quantity."

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Alan Dean Foster

" 'Ere now, wot's all this?" Mudge stepped between the

ladies. "Not that I mind if you two want to 'ave a go at

each other. Just give me a ten-minute 'ead start before the

fireworks commence, yes?" He gestured to his right. "I

don't think now's the time for private digressions, though."

At least a dozen black-clad adult shapes had appeared

near the main entrance. Jon-Tom couldn't see if Chokas

was among them, but he had no intention of hanging

around to find out.

They headed off in the opposite direction, and Jon-Tom

saw they needn't worry about pursuit. The black-clad

gestapo maintained by the Friends of the Street wasn't

after them. They were fanning out toward the alleys and

side streets in search of their escaped flock.

Jon-Tom considered intercepting them. It was difficult

, not to, but he had to tell himself that they'd done every-

thing possible for the children. Most, if not all, of them

ought to make it to the safety of the crowded city below,

and he suspected they were wise enough to discard their

incriminating b!ack-and-Iace night clothes at the first

opportunity.

One of their own was faced with the same dilemma.

"You've got to get out of that nightdress, Folly," he told

her. Obediently, she started to pull it over her head, and he

hastened to restrain her. "No, no, not yet!"

They were racing down a steep street that led back

toward the harbor area. It had begun to drizzle. He was

grateful for the rain. It should aid the fleeing children in

their escape.

"Why not yet?" Folly eyed him curiously. Curiosity

gave way rapidly to a coy smile. "When you first saw me

on Corroboc's boat I wasn't wearing anything but an iron

collar. Why should my nakedness bother you now?"

"It doesn't bother me," he lied. "It's raining and I

don't want you contracting pneumonia.'' Citizens of Snarken

out for an evening stroll watched the flight with interest.

THE DAY OF THE DISSONANCE

173

"I don't mind if you see me naked," she said innocently.

"You like me a little, don't you, Jon-Tom?"

"Of course I like you."

"No, I mean you like me."

"Don't be silly. You're still a child, Folly."

"You don't look at me the way you'd look at a child."

"She ain't built like no cub, mate."

Jon-Tom glared over at the otter. "Stay out of this,

Mudge,"

"Excuse me, guv'nor. None o' me business, right?" He

skittered along next to Roseroar, running fluidly on his

stubby legs and trying to hide a grin.

"I'm concerned for your welfare, Folly." Jon-Tom strug-

gled to explain. "I don't like to see anyone taken advan-

tage of. You noticed that we freed everyone from the

orphanage and not just you."

"I know, but you didn't come to free everyone. You

came because I was there."

"Of course. You're a friend, Folly. A good friend."

"Is that all?" As she ran there was a lot of movement

beneath the damp nightdress. Jon-Tom was having a diffi-

cult time concentrating on the street ahead. "Just a good

friend?"

Roseroar listened with one ear to the infantile dialogue

while trying her best to ignore it. Idiot humans! She made

certain to inspect every side street they passed. Surely, as

soon as the Friends of the Street finished rounding up as

many escapees as they could, they'd contact the police

about the break-in.

Besides worrying about that new problem, she had to

endure the banalities mouthed by the adolescent human

female who was flirting shamelessly with Jon-Tom.

So what? She considered her discomfiture carefully.

Why, she asked herself, should she find such harmless

chatter so aggravating? Admirable the spellsinger might

be, but he wasn't even a member of a related species. Any

relationship besides mutual respect and strong friendship

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Alan Dean Poster

was clearly out of the question. The very thought was

absurd! The man was a skinny, furless thing less than half

her size. It made no sense for her to concern herself with

his personal business.

She assured herself her interest was only natural. Jon-

Tom was a friend, a companion now. It was just as he'd

said to the girl: it hurt to see anyone taken advantage of.