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butt?
I don t know what you mean. By his tone the commandant indicated that he
knew exactly what she meant.
Right. Squill looked eager. They want proof, let s give em some proof.
Maybe it would be better simply to pay the fine, Gragelouth ventured
uneasily.
Stuff it, sloth, said Squill. This ere s personal now.
I need my instrument back. Duncan did his best to affect an air of
indifference.
The Master wants to see magic, not music. The rat snorted disdainfully.
Multhumot waved a hand. Bring what he requests, but first check the interior
for weapons and devices. He eyed Duncan appraisingly. This had best not be a
joke,
human. Do not think to toy with me.
Buncan kept his expression carefully neutral.
A squirrel appeared with the duar. The cell door was opened and it was passed
inside.
Buncan cradled it lovingly, checking it thoroughly for damage. It appeared
unharmed.
Only when he was satisfied did he turn to the otters, who waited expectantly.
Something simple, he told them. Just enough for a demonstration.
4 Ell, I wanted to flatten the ole bleedin city. Squill was unashamedly
disappointed.
Ow about we dissolve these bars? Neena smiled sweetly at the rat. Would
that be adequate proof? The commandant stiffened slightly. For the first time
he looked less than completely confident. By contrast, the two wood-chucks
evinced hardly any reaction.
That would be interesting, Multhumot s associate admitted.
Buncan bowed slightly and commenced to follow the otters vocal lead.
Got no freedom in this place
Time to get out an get on with the race
This place ere stinks, this space ere winks
Let s waste this fokker and get back to our Stinks.
Us an our friends, that s wot we thinks.
The mist that materialized this time was dark and threatening. It coalesced
into a compact cumulonimbus cloud which began first to rumble, then to flash
ominously.
Intrigued, the woodchucks held their ground while the commandant took a couple
of steps toward the corridor exit.
Miniature lightning began to run up and down the restraining bars, curling
around the metal while seeking the places where the bars were fixed to wall
and floor. The strobing light cast the faces of spellsingers and player into
barbaric relief. Beyond the corridor, guards and administrators garnered
fearfully to listen.
Unperturbed, Multhumot raised both short arms and mumbled laconically. His
colleague removed a flask from within his copious robes and began to sprinkle
its contents on the bars. The fluid smelled powerfully of lemon and ammonia.
Buncan s nose twitched as the odor struck him, and he knew that the otters,
with their more sensitive nostrils, could hardly be missing it.
A second cloud appeared in the corridor. It was an intense, brilliant white,
sanctified and fluffy and shot through with silver. Under Multhumot s
direction it drifted purposefully toward the cell. Trying to ignore it, Buncan
kept playing while the suddenly wary otters rapped on.
The ivory cloud made contact with the one which had spread itself along the
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bars.
Ragged lightning erupted at the confluence, and the air was acrid with the
smell of ozone. The dark nimbus Buncan and his friends had conjured began to
break apart into tiny, harmless puffs.
There was a bright, actinic flash which caused everyone to blink. The smell of
lemon-
fresh and otherworldly room deodorizer was strong in the air. Though they sang
and played on as determinedly as ever, Buncan and his companions were unable
to regenerate the dark cloud.
So much for your squalid sorcery. Multhumot s associate looked pleased. We
of
Hygria can scrub it out of existence, wash it from this dimension, render it
impotent through disinfective invocation. From now on this chamber will remain
whiter than white and squeaky clean in spite of all your efforts to foul it
through your outlander spellsinging. Behind him the commandant, his
confidence restored, beamed triumphantly.
Ere, don t let em get away with that! blurted Squill furiously. Let s
ave another go, mate.
I don t know, Squill. Buncan let his tired fingers fall from the strings, I
don t feel too good right now. Maybe we d better give it some thought.
Don t back down on us now, Bunkile, Neena implored him.
He forced himself to straighten. All right. One more time.
Let s really give it to the dirty buggers. Squill bent to exchange ideas
with his sister. When they had agreed on lyrics, they began to sing.
The vapor that boiled out of the duar this time was a throbbing, angry red
that screeched and gibbered. The knife-edged lyrics of the otters were matched
by the crimson blades that emerged from the coalescing fog. Seeking eagerly,
they hissed up and down, looking for something to slice, as the cloud drifted
inexorably toward the cell bars.
CHAPTER 9
The commandant s expression fell and he retreated to the far end of the
corridor, cowering near the portal. Though initially taken aback, the two
woodchucks held their ground. As the threatening cloud drifted toward them,
they lifted their arms and began to chant in tandem. Grasping arms emerged
from the nimbus, reaching outward.
In response to the chant a second white cloud materialized. It was far more
active than its predecessor had been, spinning and whirling until it had
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