"Foster, Alan Dean - Spellsinger 3 - Day Of Dissonance - uc" - читать интересную книгу автора (Foster Alan Dean)

instrument enabled him to sing spells, to make magic
through the use of song. One might think it a dream come
true for a young rock guitarist-cum-law student, save for
the fact that he didn't seem to have a great deal of control
' over the magic he made.

Since the onslaught of Clothahump's pains, Jon-Tom
had sung two dozen songs dealing with good health and
good feelings. None had produced the slightest effect with
the exception of his spirited rendition of the Beach Boys'
"Good Vibrations." That bit of spellsinging caused
Clothahump to giggle uncontrollably, sending powders and
potions flying and cracking his glasses.

Following that ignominious failure, Jon-Tom kept his
hands off the duar and made no further attempts to cure the
wizard.

"I didn't really mean to imply that you're faking it," he
added apologetically. "It's just that I'm as frustrated as
you are."

Clothahump nodded, his breath coming in short, labored

THE DAY OF THE DISSONANCE 3

gasps. His poor respiration was a reflection of the constant
pain he was suffering, as was his general weakness.

"I did the best I could," Jon-Tom murmured.

"I know you did, my boy. I know you did. As you say,
there is much yet for you to learn, many skills still to
master."

"I'm just bulling my way through. Half the time I pick
the wrong song and the other half it has the wrong result.
What else can I do?"

Clothahump looked up sharply. "There is one chance
for me, lad. There is a medicine which can cure what ails
me now. Not a spell, not a magic. A true medicine."

Jon-Tom rose from the edge of the pile of pillows. "I
think I'd better be going. I haven't practiced yet today and
I need to..."

Clothahump moaned in pain and Jon-Tom hesitated,
feeling guilty. Maybe it was a genuine moan and maybe it
wasn't, but it had the intended effect.