By Alan Dean Foster
Within the talking-animal international of Foster's Spellsinger sequence, the songs of transplanted rock musician Jon-Tom make a robust if usually misdirected magic. The quests he undertakes for his wizardly mentor ship him to far-off international locations, the place he meets whimsical creatures talking in outlandish accents. With extra memorable and dramatic adventures at the back of him, Jon-Tom is off this time at the myth similar of a visit to the fix store. The breaking of his magical duar is the celebration for encounters with pirates, cannibals, talkative porpoises, a flying horse who's petrified of heights and the beautiful, level-headed otter Weegee, who turns into the affection of Jon-Tom's irascible significant other Mudge. even though constantly amiable, this novel sounds progressively more like an impromptu bedtime tale that has been prolonged past the teller's powers of invention.
Originally released 1986 through Phantasia Press.
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Additional info for The Time of the Transference (Spellsinger, Book 6)
All jointly now: one, , 3. …” “MUDGE! ” This provoked an instantaneous reaction, yet now not from a far off part of woodland. “Will you lot kindly close up so a physique can end ’is bleedin’ sleep? ” The voice appeared to come from nearby, yet notwithstanding they searched conscientiously there has been no signal of its resource. “Mudge? Mudge, the place are you? ” Weegee seemed up at Jon-Tom. “Has he long gone invisible? ” “No, I ain’t long gone invisible,” the otter groused. “You’ve all long gone blind is wot. ” Jon-Tom nodded to his left. “I imagine he’s dozing lower than that flower mattress over there. ” convinced sufficient, while he walked over and parted the blossoms a couple of offended brown eyes glared again at him, blinking sleepily. “Gone deaf, too. I acknowledged I have been tryin’ to atone for me sleep, mate. Do I boot you out o’ mattress whilst you’re sleepin’ past due? ” Jon-Tom took a deep breath as he stepped again. “I imagine you’d higher take an excellent examine your self, Mudge. ” “Cor, wot is it this time? ” The flower mattress sat up slowly. “No fur? an excessive amount of fur? ” He glanced downward and his voice turned an outraged squeak. “Oh me god, now wot’s ’appened to me? ” What had occurred used to be as visible because it was once unheard of. through the evening Mudge’s fur had back to its basic size and consistency yet with one impressive exception. The mild thickening that they had spotted on the tip of every bristle had blossomed into—well, into blossoms. each one bristle used to be tipped with a brightly hued flower. except being a section thicker and more durable than such a lot, the petals seemed completely flower-like. Weegee came upon greater than a dozen differing kinds. “Daisies, bluebells, yellowlips, murcockles, redbells, twoclovers—why Mudge, you’re attractive. and also you scent great, too. ” “I don’t are looking to be attractive! I don’t are looking to odor great! ” The apoplectic otter was once dancing in an offended circle and waving his palms on the injustice of all of it. Petals flew off him as he flailed on the air. He gave the look of a bit of a Rose Parade waft creating a holiday for freedom. ultimately he ran out of steam and settled down in a disconsolate lump—a very lovely lump, Jon-Tom mused. “Woe is me. Wot’s to turn into o’ terrible Mudge? ” “Take it effortless. ” Jon-Tom positioned an arm round a flowered shoulder. a cheerful bee buzzed busily atop one ear. “I’m definite this conditon will go quick similar to the entire others. And to imagine you’re continuously calling me a blooming fool. ” Mudge let loose a shriek and charged his buddy, yet Jon-Tom had expected the assault and dodged out of how. ordinarily Mudge could have run him down, yet he used to be so laden by way of his floral fur that Jon-Tom was once capable of elude him. “Vicious,” he mumbled. “Vicious an’ evil an’ sarcastic, you grinnin’ ape. ” He appeared down at himself, spreading his fingers. “Positively ’umiliatin’. ” “Look at it this way,” Jon-Tom instructed him from a secure distance, “if we need to conceal from any pursuers you’re already completely camouflaged. ” “Jokes. ’Ere I’m sufferin’ poor an’ me ally ’as to make jokes. ” Jon-Tom positioned his chin in hand and studied the otter with exaggerated seriousness. “I don’t comprehend even if we must always have you ever mowed or fertilized.