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way. Clothahump is waiting on us, and much as I'd like to, we can't linger
here."
 Ah'm ready fo some clean countryside," agreed Roseroar. "Ah've
had enough o' the ocean to last me fo a while."
 You're bound and determined to see this insanity through to the
bitter end, aren't you, mate?"
 You know that I am, Mudge. I gave my word."
 I was afraid you'd say somethin' like that." He sighed, wiped
gravy from his lips. "Wait 'ere."
The otter vanished into the main dining room of the inn, returned
moments later. He was not alone. With him was a finely coiffed orangutan. This
individual was dressed in old but well-cared-for clothing. Lace ruffles
billowed from collar and sleeves. His orange beard was trimmed short and he
puffed on a long, curved pipe. One earring of silver and garnet dangled from
his left ear.
 So you weesh to traveel eenland?" There was an odd
lilt to his voice that reminded Jon-Tom of the other orang he'd
met, the venerable Doctor Nilanthos of Lynchbany. That reminded him of the
mugging victims the good doctor had worked on, and of the mugger, the
flame-haired Talea. He forced his thoughts back to the present. Talea was far
away.
 That's right. We need a certain medicine."
The primate nodded once. "Weel, you'll find no better place to
seek eet than here een Snarken. Eet's the beegest city on the western shore of
the Gleetergeist, and eef what you seek ees not to be found here, eet ees not
to be found anywhere.''
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 You see, lad," said Mudge hopefully. "Wot did I tell you? Might
as well start lookin' for 'is sorcerership's fix right 'ere."
 Sorry, Mudge."
 C'mon, mate. Couldn't we at least try a local chemist's shop?"
 What ees thee problem, stranger?" asked the orang. The aroma
drifting from the bowl at the end of the thin pipe was fragrant and powerful.
Jon-Tom suspected it contained more than merely tobacco. Evidently the orang
noticed Jon-Tom's interest, because he turned the pipe about. "Care for a
heet?"
Jon-Tom forced himself to decline. "Thanks, but not until we get
this business straightened out."
 Hey guv, 'ow about me?" Mudge eyed the pipe hungrily.
 You were not offered," said the orang imperturbably.
 The medicine we seek," Jon-Tom said hastily, before Mudge could
comment, "is available only from a certain shop. In the town of Crancularn."
The orang started ever so slightly, puffed furiously on his pipe.
"Crancularn, ai?"
 In the Shop of the Aether and Neither."
 Weel now." The orang banged his pipe on the side of the table,
knocking out the dottle while making certain not
to stain his silk-and-satin attire. "I have neever been to
Crancularn. But I have heard rumor of theese shop you seek. Some say eet ees
no more than that, a device of the veelagers of theese town to breeng
attention upon themselves. Others, they say more."
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 But you've never been there," said Roseroar.
 No. I don't know anyone who's actually been there. But I do know
where eet ees supposed to lie."
 Where?" Jon-Tom leaned forward anxiously.
The orang lifted a massive, muscular arm and pointed westward.
"There. That way."
Mudge tugged irritably at his whiskers. "Precise directions, why
can't any of these helpful blokes we run into ever give us precise
directions?"
 Don't worry." The orang smiled. "Eef you want to find eet badly
enough, you weel. People know where eet ees. They just don't go there, that's
all."
 Why not?"
The orang shrugged, smacked thick lips around the stem of his
pipe. "Beats mee, stranger. I've neever had the desire to go and find out.
Thee fact that no one else goes there strikes mee as reeson enough not to go.
Eef you are bound to go, I weesh you thee best of luck." He stepped back from
the table. The main room of the inn's restaurant was jammed with diners now,
and his table lay on the other side of the floor. He reached up, grabbed the
nearest chandelier, and made his way across the ceiling gracefully, without
disturbing any of the other customers.
 It doesn't make any sense," Jon-Tom was muttering. "If no one
knows of any specific danger in Cranculam, why doesn't anyone go mere?"
 I could think of several reasons," said Jalwar thoughtfully.
 Can you really, baggy-nose?" said Mudge. "Why don't you enlighten
us then, guv'nor?"
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 There may be dangers there mat remain little known."
Alas Dean Foster
 He would have told us anything known," Jon-Tom argued. "No reason
to keep it from us. What else, Jalwar?"
 There may be nothing there at all."
 I'll take Clothahump's word that there is. Go on."
The ferret spread his hands. "This shop you speak of so hopefully.
It may be less than you wish for. Many such establishments never live up to
their reputations."
 We'll find out," Jon-Tom said determinedly, "because no matter
what anyone says, we're going there." His expression altered suddenly as he
stared past the ferret.
 Wot is it, mate?" asked Mudge, abruptly alert. "Wot do you see?"
 Darkness. Nighttime. It's been night out for a long time. Too
long. Folly should have returned by now." He whirled angrily on the otter.
"Damn it, Mudge, did you...?"
 Now 'old on a minim, mate." The otter raised both paws
defensively. "I said my piece and you said you didn't want to sell *er. I
wouldn't do anythin' like that behind your back."
 If you were offered the right price you'd sell your own
grandmother without her permission."
 I never knew me grandmum, mate, so I couldn't guess
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at 'er worth, but I swears on me works that as far as I
know the girl's done only wot you said she could do: gone
tshoppin' for some respectable coverin' for that skinny
naked body o' 'ers. Well, not all that skinny."
Jon-Tom had a sudden thought, turned on the largest member of
their party. "Roseroar?"
The massive torso shaded the table as the tigress daintily set
down half a roast lizard as big as the duar. She picked with maddening
slowness at her teeth before replying.
 Ah will pretend ah didn't heah that insult, suh. Ah think it's
obvious enough what has happened."
 What's obvious?" He frowned.
 Why, you gave her some gold. As she told yo herself, you owe her
nothing and she owes you little, since you
THE DAY or THE DISSONANCE
turned down her offah to sell herself. It's cleah enough to me
that she's gone off to seek her own fortune. We've given her her freedom. She
held no love fo us and ah must admit the feelin's mutual."
 She wouldn't think of it like that," Jon-Tom muttered worriedly.
"She isn't the type."
Mudge let out a sharp, barking laugh. "Now, wot would you know
about 'er type, mate? I didn't know wot 'er 'type' was, and I've forgotten
more about women of more species than you'll ever think on."
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 She's just not the type, Mudge," Jon-Tom insisted. "This city's
as new to her as it to us, and we're the only friends or security she's got."
 A type like that," said Roseroar disdainfully, "can find friends
wherevah she goes."
 She just wouldn't run off like that, without saying anything.
Maybe you're right, Mudge. Maybe she does want to strike off on her own, but
she'd have told us first.''
 Wot for?" wondered Mudge sarcastically. "To spare you from
worryin' about 'er? Maybe she don't like long good-byes. Not that it matters.
You've seen 'ow big this town is. Wot can we do about it?"
 Wait until morning," Jon-Tom said decisively. "We can't do much
without sleep, and it'll be good to sleep on something that doesn't roll and
pitch."
 Me sentiments exactly, mate."
 In the morning we'll make some inquiries. You're good at making
inquries, Mudge. Like finding that orang to tell us the way to Crancularn." [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

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