Spellsinger 03 - The Day of the Dissonance
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steamstress... I'm good with paints ... I want to be...!"
He shushed them all. "We'll get you out. Somehow.
Mudge, what about the dorm we came through? Can we
risk going back that way with all these kids?"
"Fuck the risk, mate." Jon-Tom had never seen the
otter so mad. "Not only are we goin' back into the other
dorm, we're goin' to break every cub out o' this pit o'
abomination. Come on, you lot," he told them. "Quiet-
like." Jon-Tom followed behind, making sure no one was
left and shepherding them along like a giraffe among a
flock of sheep.
The hallway and the stairs were silent. Once in the other
dorm those awake went from bed to bed waking their
friends and explaining what was happening. When they
were through, the center aisle was full of milling, anxious
young faces.
Mudge opened the door to the supply closet. At the
same time the door at the other end of the dorm burst
open. Standing in the opening was the powerful figure of a
five-foot-tall adult lynx. Green eyes flashed.
"What's going on in here?" He started in. "By the
Eight Levels of Purity, I will have the hide off whoever is
responsible!" Then he caught sight of Jon-Tom standing
like a pale tower above the heads of the youngsters. "How
did you get in here?"
Jon-Tom faced him with a broad, innocent smile. "Just
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visiting. A little late, I know. Special dispensation from
Chokas."
"Just visiting be damned! Where's your pass? These are
not visiting times."
Jon-Tom kept smiling as the cubs crowded close around
him. "Like I said, friend, it's a special occasion."
The monitor carried a short, ugly black whip which he
now drew back threateningly. "You're coming with me to
see the Headmaster, whoever you are. I do not know how
you got in here, or you either," he added as he espied
Mudge, "but you are not leaving without making proper
explanation. The rest of you," he roared, "back to your
beds!"
The youngsters milled around uncertainly. Many of
them were starting to bawl.
" 'Ere now, guv'nor, there's no reason to get upset."
Mudge toddled toward him, smiling broadly.
The whip cracked just in front of the otter's nose. The
children started to scatter for their beds, whimpering loudly.
"Now, hold on there, friend." Jon-Tom put his ramwood
staff in front of his chest. "Let's be careful with that whip,
shall we?"
"Cute little gimcrack, snake master," said Mudge, still
grinning and walking toward the monitor. The lynx eyed
his approach warily.
"That is far enough, trespasser. Take another step to-
ward me and I'll have one of your eyes out."
Mudge halted, threw up both hands and gaped at the
lynx in mock horror. "Wot, and mar me perfection?
Crikey, why would you want to muss up me perfect self?''
He started to turn, abruptly leaped at the monitor.
The lynx wasn't slow, but Mudge was a brown blur in
the dim light. The whip snapped down and cut across the
back of the otter's neck. Mudge's sword was faster still,
slicing through the.whip handle just above the big cat's
fingers.
The monitor bolted for the open door. "Mudge, no!"
THE DAY OF THE DISSONANCE
169
Jon-Tom yelled, but Mudge didn't hear him in time. Or
perhaps he did. The short sword spun end over end. It was
the hilt that struck the lynx in the back of the head with a
gratifyingly loud thump. The monitor dropped as if poleaxed.
Jon-Tom breathed a sigh of relief. "Smart throw, Mudge.
We don't need a murder complicating our departure."
Mudge retrieved his sword. "That's right, mate, but I
can't take the credit. I was tryin' to separate 'is 'ead from
'is shoulders."
"Quick now!" Jon-Tom instructed the youngsters as he
headed for the storage closet. "Everyone out, before
someone else shows up to check on you." He led them
through the storage closet. "Don't push, everyone's going
to get out... don't shove in the back...."
Roseroar strained to see better as shadows moved against
the open window. So far no one had appeared to spot the
dangling rope of pastel linen, but it would take only one
passing pedestrian to give the alarm.
She expected to see Jon-Tom or Mudge or even the girl.
What she did not expect to see was the silent column of
cubs who began descending the sheets. Some species were
built for climbing and climbed down quickly and graceful-
ly, while others had a more difficult time with the descent,
but all made it safely. She dropped clear of the tree and
rushed toward the building. The cubs largely ignored her
as they ran off in different directions, small dark shapes
swallowed by the shadows.
The prepubescent exodus continued for some time. Fi-
nally Jon-Tom, Mudge, and Folly appeared at the open
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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" '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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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.
Roseroar wasn't about to let this scheming adolescent take
advantage of him. And take advantage of him Folly
would, if given half a chance. Roseroar was sure of that
much. She shook her head as Jon-Tom allowed himself to
be smothered with verbal pap, astonished at the naivete
displayed during courtship by the human species. She'd
thought better of him.
She ignored it for as long as she could, until she was
unable to stand the veiled remarks and coy queries any
longer.
"Ah think we can slow down some now." Jon-Tom and
Mudge agreed with her. Everyone slowed to a fast walk.
Roseroar moved close to the girl. "And ah also think it
would be a good ideah if we all kept quiet foah a while.
We don't want to attract any undue attention. In addition
to which, if ah'm forced to listen to any moan o' yoah
simperin', girl, ah may vomit."
Folly eyed the tigress. "Something bothering you?"
"Nothin' much, little female. It's just that ah have a
great respect foah the language. Hearin' it used so foolishly
always upsets mah digestion."
Folly turned to Jon-Tom. She flashed blue eyes and
blonde hair in the reflected light from storefronts
and street
lamps. Her skin, wet with drizzle, sparkled.
"Do you think I'm talking foolish, Jon-Tom?"
"Maybe just a little, yes."
She responded with a much practiced and perfectly
formed pout. Roseroar sighed and turned away, wondering
why she went to the trouble. The spellsinger had shown
himself to be a man of intelligence and insight. It dis-
THE DAY OF THE DISSONANCE
175
tressed her to see him so blatantly manipulated. She
increased her stride so she wouldn't have to listen to
any more of it.
"You don't like me," Folly murmured to Jon-Tom.
"Of course I like you.
"I knew you did!" She turned and threw her arms
around him, making him stagger. "I knew you liked me!"
"Please, Folly." Jon-Tom reluctantly worked to disen-
gage himself. Roseroar would have been happy to help,
though she might have broken both of the girl's arms in
the process. "Folly, I already have a woman." Her expres-
sion fell abruptly. She moved away from him, once more
concentrating on the street ahead.
"You never told me that."
"It was never necessary to tell you. Her name's Talea.
She lives near a town called Lynchbany, which lies far
across the Glittergeist."
Otter ears overheard and Mudge fell back to join them.
"O' course, she ain't really 'is woman," he said con-
versationally, thoroughly delighting in Jon-Tom's discom-
fort. "They're just friends is all."
Folly's delight returned upon hearing this disclosure.
"Oh, that's all right, then!"
"Besides, you're much too young for what you're
thinking," Jon-Tom told her, impaling Mudge with a stare
promising slow death.
"Too young for what?"
"Just too young." Strange. The right words had been
there on his lips just a moment earlier. Odd how they
vanished the instant you needed them.
"Bet I could convince you otherwise," she said
coquettishly.
"Here's the right cross street," he said hastily, lengthening
his stride. "We'll be back at the inn in a couple of
minutes."
A short furry shape jumped from an alcove ahead of
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him. Roseroar reached for her swords. Folly hid behind
Jon-Tom as Mudge put a hand to his bow.
They relaxed when the shape identified itself.
"Jalwar!" Jon-Tom couldn't conceal his surprise. "What
are you doing out here?" He tried to see past the ferret.
The oldster put a finger to his lips and beckoned for