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you, meddler with a spike in his brain?"

"It is I." Drom was unperturbed by the bandit leader's

tone. "Listen to me! These travelers are poor. They have

no money."

Cuscus laughter rang through the trees. "You expect me

to believe that?"

"It's true. In any case, you cannot defeat them."

"Don't bet on that."

"You cannot break in here."

"Maybe not, but we'll force you out. It may take time,

but we'll do it."

"If you do, then I will only lead them to another place

of safety, one even harder to assault than this one. I know

these woods, and you know I speak the truth. So why not

depart now before suffering any more senseless losses? It's

a stupid leader who sacrifices his people for no gain."

Muttering came from different places in the trees, proof

that Drom's last words had hit home. Hathcar hastened to

respond.

"No matter if you lead them elsewhere. We'll track you

down no matter where you go."

"Perhaps you will. Or perhaps you'll find yourselves

led into a trap. We of the forest have ways of defending

ourselves against you lovers of civilization. There are

hidden pits and tree-mounted weapons scattered through-

out my territory. Follow me and find them at your peril."

This time the woods were silent. Drom nodded to

himself. "Good. They're thinking it over, probably argu-

ing about it. If they come to their senses, we may be able

to get out of here without any more violence."

Jon-Tom peered through the narrow slit in the stone.

"You think they'll really react that sensibly?"

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Alan Dean Foster

"I don't know, but he knows I'm talking truth," said the

unicorn softly. "I know this section of forest better than he

does, and he knows that I know that."

"But how could we slip out of here and get past them?"

Drom chuckled. "1 did fudge on that one a bit. Yet for

all he knows there are a dozen secret passages out of

here."

"If there are, they're bloody well still secret." Mudge

emerged from the crawlspace he'd entered and wiped

limestone dust from his shirt and whiskers. "Tight as a

teenage whore. Nothin' bigger than a snake could get out

the back way. We're safe enough here, all right." Jon-Tom

gladly handed back the otter's bow and found himself a

soft place on the floor.

' Then I guess we wait until they attack again or give up

and leave us alone. I suppose we ought to stand watch

tonight."

"Allow me, suh," said Roseroar. "Ah'm as comfortable

with the night as ah am with the day."

"While we wait to see what they'll do," said Drom,

"perhaps now you'll tell me what you people are doing in

this country, so far from civilization."

Jon-Tom sighed. "It's a long story," he told the uni-

corn, and proceeded to relate it yet again. As he spoke, the

sun set and the trees blended into a shadowy curtain

outside. An occasional arrow plunked against the stone,

more for nuisance value than out of any hope of hitting

any of the defenders inside.

Hathcar had indeed lost too many in the futile attack to

try it again. He knew that if he continued to fling his

followers uselessly against an impregnable position they

would melt quietly away into the woods. That night he

moved away from the main campfire and sought counsel

from an elderly rat and wolf, the two wisest of his band.

"So how do we pry those stinking bastards out of

there?"

The rat's hair was tinged with white and his face and

THE DAY OF THE DISSONANCE

235

arms were scarred. He picked at the dirt with one hand.

"Why bother? Why not let them rot in there if they so

desire? There are easier pickin's elsewhere."

Hathcar leaned toward him, glaring in the moonlight.

"Do you know what happened today? Do you? They made

a fool of me. Me, Hathcar! Nobody makes a fool of

Hathcar and walks away to boast of it, nobody! Not on

their own legs, they don't."

"It was just a thought," the rat mumbled. "It had to be

said."

"Right. It's been said. It's also been forgotten." The rat

said nothing.

"How about smoking them out?" suggested the wolf.

The cuscus let out a derisive snort. "Don't you think

they've already thought of that? If they haven't tried to

break out, it means they aren't worried about smoke; and

if they aren't worried about it, it probably means it won't

work if we try it."

"Could we," suggested the rat, "maybe force our way in

through the roof?"

Hathcar sighed. "You're all looking at the obvious, all

of you. I'm the only one who can see beyond the self-

evident. That cursed four-legs led them straight here, so

he's probably telling the truth when he says he knows it

well. He wouldn't box himself into a situation he wasn't

comfortable with. He says they can slip out anytime and

hide somewhere else twice as strong. Maybe he's lying,

but we can't take that chance. We have to take them here,

while we know what we're up against. That means our

first priority is to get rid of that horned meddler."

"How about moving a couple of archers in close?

Those with good night vision. If they can sneak up against

the wall they might get a clear shot inside."

Hathcar considered. "Not bad, except that if they don't

snuff the unicorn right away that fucking water rat's likely

to get 'em both. I've never seen anybody shoot like that."

He shook his head.

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Alan Dean Foster

"No, it's not good enough, Parsh. I'm sure they've got

a guard up, and I won't send any more of the boys against

that otter's bow. No, we have to bring the unicorn out

somehow, far enough so we can get a clear shot at him. By

himself, if possible."

The rat spat on the ground. "That's likely, isn't it?"

"You know, there may be a way."

Hathcar frowned at the wolf. "I was only half-serious,

Brungunt."

"I'm wholly serious. All we need is the right kind of

bait."

"That blow you took in Ollorory village has addled

your brains," said Parsh. "Nothing's going to bring that

unicorn out where we can get at him."

"Go on, Brungunt," said the thoughtful Hathcar.

The wolf leaned close. "It should be done when most of

them sleep. We must watch and smell for when the stallion

takes his turn as sentry. If they post only the one guard, we

may have a chance. Great care must be taken, for it will be

a near thing, a delicate business. Bait or no bait, if the

meddler senses our presence, I do not think he can be

drawn out. So after we set the bait we must retreat well out

of range. It will work, you'll see. So powerful is the bait,

it will draw our quarry well out where we can cut off his

retreat. Then it won't matter if he bolts into the woods.

The important thing is that we'll be rid of him, and the

ones we really want will be deprived of his advice and

aid."

"No," said Hathcar, his eyes gleaming, "no. I want

that four-legs, too. I want him dead. Or better yet, we'll

just hamstring him." He grinned viciously in the dark.

"Yes, hamstring him. That's better still." He forced him-

self from contemplation of pleasures to come. "This bait?

Where do we get it?"

Brungunt scratched an ear and even the skeptical Parsh

looked interested. "First we must find a village or farm

that numbers humans among its occupants." He was

THE DAY OF THE DISSONANCE

237

nodding to himself as he spoke. "This is an old, old magic

we will work tonight, but you don't have to be a sorcerer