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

"Hot," he told them unnecessarily. "Excruciatingly

hot." Folly slid off the unicorn's back into Jon-Tom's

arms, barely conscious. "She was walking blindly toward

an open lava pit. I got there just in time."

"Jon-Tom." He held her carefully, acutely conscious of

the first-degree burn that covered her whole body. "I.. .1

didn't know what was happening, what I was doing.

Jalwar... he made me feel so strange. I couldn't think my

own thoughts anymore." She leaned against him.

"That morning when he woke me and made me follow

him out of our camp, I wanted to cry out, to warn you, but

I couldn't. He made me go with him, and he made me fetch

and cook and carry for him, but it wasn't me, it wasn't

me! It was like I was a prisoner in my own body and I

couldn't get out." She was sobbing now, the tears wet

against his chest. She leaned back and looked up at him in

astonishment.

"I'm crying. I didn't think I could cry anymore."

"You were hypnotized," Jon-Tom told her. When she

continued staring at him in puzzlement he explained fur-

ther. "A kind of magic. You couldn't help yourself." He

hugged her to him and when she moaned in pain he was

quick to release her. "We'll have to do something about

your burn. Maybe Snooth has something. We can buy

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medicine for you, too. I still have the three gold pieces

that Mudge didn't lose in Snarken."

"It's all right," she whispered. "I'm all right now."

She turned to Drom. "I wouldn't have been if he hadn't

shown up. I didn't know what to think when he came

galloping down the corridor after me. Then he told me

who he was and that he was a friend of yours and you

were all here inside the mountain with him. That you were

fighting Jalwar-Zancresta." She ran to the unicorn and,

putting her arms around his neck, hugged him gratefully.

Drom tolerated the attention briefly before stepping back

and pulling free. "I am glad to have been of assistance,

madame, but leave us not get carried away with our

emotions."

"But I thought..." Folly looked hurt and Jon-Tom

hastened to reassure her.

"Drom's not being unfriendly, Folly. He's just being

himself. I'll explain later." He looked at the unicorn. "It

was a fine bit of rescue work, Drom."

"1 try." The unicorn searched the aisle. "Where is the

evil one? And the great feline? Did you defeat him during

my absence?"

"No." Jon-Tom smiled at the mockingbird. "This is

Charrok. When Zancresta discovered that he couldn't de-

feat me with his own magic, he tried to do it with another

spellsinger. Charrok and I conjured up quite a musical

storm before we came to the conclusion that harmony is

better than dissonance. As for Roseroar, she's gone after

Zancresta."

"I should pity the ferret, then."

"That's the truth, mate," said Mudge. "That's some

broad. If she were only a fourth 'er size."

"You have to learn to think big, Mudge." Jon-Tom

became serious. "Zancresta's as fast on his feet as he is

with his mind. He might give her the slip in here."

" 'E can't get out, though, mate," Mudge commented.

"Unless there's another way in, and I'd bet me tool there's

THE DAT OP THE DISSONANCE

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only the one. I'd say the best we can do now is find that

oversized she-rat who runs the place. She 'ad the medicine

when the fight started, and I'd wager she's kept it with

'er."

It was a long hike back to the entryway, and Jon-Tom's

appraisal of the ferret as being fleet of foot turned out to be

accurate, for when they turned up the last aisle Zancresta

was already there.

"Ah just missed him in a side aisle," Roseroar rumbled

angrily, having rejoined them only moments earlier. "He

won't get away this time."

Zancresta's clothes were shredded, and he looked very

unwizardly as he stood panting heavily before the exit.

A glance down the side aisle showed his tormentors

approaching rapidly. There was nothing, however, to pre-

vent his escaping to plot against them from the outside.

Nothing except an old female kangaroo.

"Get out of my way, hag! My time is precious and I

have none to waste in argument."

"I'm not here to argue with you." Snooth spoke calmly,

the pipe dangling from her lips. Her right hand was

extended, palm upward. "You owe me payment."

"Payment? Payment for what?" Zancresta snarled impa-

tiently. His enemies were hurrying now, the ferocious

tigress in the lead. He did not have much time.

"For damage done to stock and fixtures."

"I was trying to escape from that insane female who

even now approaches. You can't hold me responsible for

that."

"I hold you responsible for everything," she replied

darkly. "You initiated conflict. You interrupted a sale. I

forgive you all that, but you must pay for the damage

you've caused. I'm not running a philanthropic organiza-

tion here. This is a business." She gestured with the palm.

"Pay up."

"Fool! I said I've no time to argue with you. This little

store you have here is a very clever piece of work, I'll

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admit that. But I am Zancresta of Malderpot and I am not

impressed. I give you one chance to get out of my way."

Snooth did not move. The wizard's paw dipped into an

intact pocket and he flung something small and round at

her as the kangaroo's hands went to her belly. There was a

crump\ as the small round thing exploded, filling the

portal with angry red smoke. Jon-Tom had tried to shout

a warning. It came too late.

"Now I will leave over you, hag!"

But there was something else in the doorway now,

something besides the uninjured and glowering Snooth. It

rose from her pouch, the pouch where Jon-Tom thought he

had detected hints of movement before. It rose and grew

and it was immediately clear it was no joey, no infant

kangaroo. It was far larger, and it expanded as Jon-Tom

and his companions slowed to a halt.

Zancresta backed slowiy away from the apparition. It

enlarged until it reached the roof forty feet overhead, and

still it grew, until it could only fit in the cavern by bending

low against the rock ceiling.

It had the shape of a red kangaroo, but its face was not

the face of a gentle vegetarian like Snooth. The ears were

immense, sharply pointed, and hung with thick gold rings.

The long snout was full of scimitarlike teeth, and sulfurous

eyes centered on tiny black pupils glared downward. Gray

smoke encircled and obscured the behemoth's waist, rising

lazily from Snooth's pouch. Gorillalike arms hung to the

floor, where backturned knuckles rested on the smooth

stone.

A bright crimson band encircled the huge forehead. It

was inscribed with glowing symbols drawn from an an-

cient place and time. A thin silken vest flapped in an unfelt

wind against the mountainous chest.

And there was the voice. Not gentle and matronly like

Snooth's, but awesome in its depth and richness. The

apparition spoke, and the earth trembled.

"BEHOLD, ODIOUS IMP, TOILER IN OBSCURITY, MED-

THE DAY OF THE DISSONANCE

281

DLER IN INEFFECTUALITY: I AM HARUN AL-ROOJINN,

MASTER OF ALL THE SPIRITS OF TIME PAST AND TIME

FUTURE WHERE MARSUPIALS RULE AND ALL OTHERS ARE

BUT TINY SCURRYING THINGS THAT HIDE IN ROCKS AND

FEED ON WORMS! BEHOLD, AND BE AFRAID!" A hand big

enough to sail the Glittergeist if fitted out with sails and