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LITTLE MORTAL?"

"Do you still have the medicine, Snooth?" The kanga-

roo nodded, opened a fist to show the precious container.

A hand the size of a bus lowered to block her from

Jon-Tom's sight.

"THE MEDICINE YOU MAY TAKE. IF YOU CAN SATISFY

ME. AND YOU HAVE SEEN WHAT HAPPENS TO MERE MOR-

TALS WHO DISPLEASE ME."

Jon-Tom was beginning to understand why Crancularn

had acquired a less than favorable reputation among travel-

ers in this part of the world, in spite of the miracles it

offered for sale.

"YOU THINK LONG, MORTAL. Do NOT THINK TO TRICK

ME BY SOME FOOLISHNESS SUCH AS ASKING ME TO SHRINK

MYSELF INTO A BOTTLE." A hand hovered above them and

Folly flinched. "I DON'T NEED TO CHANGE MY SIZE TO

SHOW MY POWER. ALL I NEED TO DO IS PUT MY THUMB ON

YOUR HEAD."

"Whatever happened to the customer's always right?"

Jon-Tom shot back.

The djinn hesitated. "WHAT OTHERWORLDLY IDIOCY is

THAT?"

"Just good business practice."

"A   MORTAL  WITH  A   KNACK   FOR   BUSINESS."   The  djinn

looked  interested.   "I  WILL LET YOU  PAY WITH  YOUR

BUSINESS, THEN, AND PERHAPS YOU AND YOUR FRIENDS

WILL LEAVE HERE WITH YOUR BONES INTACT. YOU ARE A

SPELLSINGER. I HAVE HEARD MANY SPELLS INGERS, BUT

NONE THAT PLEASED ME. I DO NOT THINK I KNOW OF ONE

FROM YOUR WORLD. SlNG ME A SPELLSONG OF YOUR

WORLD, WORM. SlNG ME A SONG THAT WfLL AMUSE ME,

INTRIGUE ME. SlNG ME SOMETHING DIFFERENT. THEN,

AND ONLY THEN, WILL I LET YOU TAKE THE MEDICINE

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Alan Dean Poster

AND GO!" The djinn folded arms with thick muscles like

the trunks of great trees.

"THINK CAREFULLY ON WHAT YOU WILL SING. I GROW

IMPATIENT   QUICKLY   AND   WILL   NOT   ALLOW   YOU   A   SEC-

OND CHANCE."

Jon-Tom stood sweating and thinking furiously. What

song could he possible sing that would interest this off-

spring of magic, who had access to the goods of thousands

of worlds? What did he know that might be offbeat and

just weird enough to have some effect on a djinn?

Off to his left Roseroar stood watching him quietly.

Mudge was muttering, something like a prayer. Folly paced

anxiously behind him while Drom pawed at the floor and

wished he were outside where he'd at least have a running

chance.

Feathers caressed his neck. "You can do it, colleague."

Charrok was smiling confidently at him.

Mystical. It had to be overtly mystical, yet not so

specific as to anger the djinn into thinking Jon-Tom was

trying to trick him. What did he know that fit that

description? He was just a hard rocker when he wasn't

studying law. All he knew were the hits, the platinum

songs.

There was only one possibility, one choice. A song full

of implications instead of accusations, mysterious and not

readily comprehended. Something to make the djinn think.

He let his fingers slide over the duar's strings. His throat

was dry but his hoarseness was gone.

"Watch it, mate," Mudge warned him.

To his surprise Jon-Tom found he could smile down at

the otter. "No sweat, Mudge."

"Wot can you sing for 'im 'e don't already 'ave,

guv'nor?" The otter waved at hand at the endless shelves

crammed with goods from dimensions unknown. "Wot

can you give 'im in song 'e don't already own?"

"A different state of mind," Jon-Tom told him softly,

and he began to sing.

THE DAY OF THE DISSONANCE

285

He was concerned that the duar would not reproduce the

eerie chords correctly. He need not have worried. That

endlessly responsive, marvelously versatile instrument du-

plicated the sounds he drew from memory with perfect

fidelity, amplifying them so that they filled the chamber

around him. It was a strange, quavering moan, a galvaniz-

ing cross between an alien bass fiddle being played by

something with twelve hands and the snore of a sleeping

brontosaurus. Only one man had ever made sounds quite

like that before, and Jon-Tom strained hands and lips to

reproduce them.

"If you can just get your mind together," he crooned to

the djinn, "and come over to me, we'll watch the sunrise

together, from the bottom of the sea."

The words and sounds made no sense to Roseroar, but

she could sense they were special. Bits and pieces of

broken light began to illuminate the chamber around her.

Gneechees, harbingers of magic, had appeared and were

swarming around Jon-Tom in all their unseeable beauty.

It was a sign the song was working, and it inspired

Jon-Tom to sing harder still. Harun al-Roojinn leaned

forward as if to protest, to question, and hesitated. Behind

the fiery yellow eyes was a first flicker of uncertainty.

Jon-Tom sang on.

"First, have you ever been experienced? Have you ever

been experienced?" The djinn drifted back on nonexistent

heels. His great burning eyes began to glaze over slightly,

as if someone were drawing wax paper across them.

"Well, I have," Jon-Tom murmured. The notes bounced

off the walls, rang off the ears of the djinn, who seemed to

have acquired a pleasant indifference to those around him.

Jon-Tom's own expression began to drift as he contin-

ued to sing, remembering the words, remembering the

chords. A brief eternity passed. It was Mudge who reached

up to break the trance.

"That's it, mate," he whispered. He shook Jon-Tom

hard. "C'mon, guv, snap out o' it." Jon-Tom continued to

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Alan Dean Foster

play on, a beatific expression on his face. The djinn

hovered before him like some vast rusty blimp, hands

folded over his chest, great claws interlocked, whispering.

"BEAUTIFUL ... Beautiful... beautiful..."

"Come on, mate!" The otter turned to Roseroar, who

was swaying slowly in time to the music, her eyes blank.

A thin trickle of drool fell from her mouth. Mudge tried to

kick her in the rump, but his foot wouldn't reach that high.

So he settled for slapping Folly.

"What... what's happening?" She blinked. "Stop hit-

ting me." She focused on the drifting djinn. "What's

happened to him? He looks so strange."

" 'E ain't the only one," Mudge snapped. " 'Elp me

wake the rest of 'em up."

They managed to revive Drom and Charrok and Roseroar,

but Jon-Tom stubbornly refused to return to reality. He was

as locked into the deceptively langorous state of mind he'd

conjured up as was the target of his song.

"Wake «/>!" Roseroar demanded as she shook him. He

turned to her, still playing, and smiled broadly.

"Wake up? But why? Everything's so beautiful." He

looked half through her. "Did I ever tell you how beautiful

you are?"

Roseroar was taken aback by that one, but only for a

moment. "Tell me later, sun." She threw him over her left

shoulder and started for the door, keeping a wary eye on

the stoned djinn.

"Just a second." Drom paused at the portal and snatched

the container of medicine from Snooth's fingers.

"Hey, what about my payment, sonny?"

"You've already been paid, madame." The unicorn

used his horn to point at Harun al-Roojinn."Collect from

him." Drom trotted out, through the storeroom of broken

devices, through the living area, and out the front door to

join his friends.

Snooth watched him go, hands on hips, her expression

grim.

THE DAY OF THE DISSONANCE

287

"Tourists! I shouid've known they'd be more trouble

than they're worth." She stomped out onto the porch and

watched until they'd vanished into the woods. Then she