"Diana Wynne Jones - Mixed Magics" - читать интересную книгу автора (Jones Diana Wynne)

"Look! A ghost!" Then there were screams further down the counter. The
Willing Warlock looked. A very large chocolate gateau, with a snout-shaped
piece missing from it, was trotting at chest level across the dining area.
Towser was helping himself, too. People backed away, yelling. The gateau
broke into a gallop and barged out through the glass doors with a splat. At
the same moment, someone grabbed the Danish pastry from the Willing
Warlock's hand.

It was the girl behind the cash desk, who was not afraid of ghosts. "You're
the Invisible Man or something," she said. "Give that back."

The Willing Warlock panicked again and ran after the gateau. He meant to
go on running, as fast as he could, in the opposite direction from the nice
car. But as soon as he barged through the door, he found the gateau
waiting for him, lying on the ground. A warning growl and hot breath on his
hand suggested that he pick the gateau up and come along. Teeth in his
trouser leg backed up this sugges-tion. Dismally, the Willing Warlock
obeyed.

"Where's my ice cream?" Jemima Jane asked ungratefully.

"There wasn't any," said the Willing Warlock as Towser herded him into the
car. He threw the gateau, the scones, and a pork pie onto the backseat.
"Be thankful for what you've got."

"Why?" asked Jemima Jane.

The Willing Warlock gave up. He turned himself visible again and sat in the
driving seat to eat the other pork pie. He could feel Towser snuffing him
from time to time make sure he stayed there. In between, he could hear
Towser eating. Towser made such a noise that the Willing Warlock was
glad he was invisible. He looked to make sure. And there was Towser,
visible again in all his hugeness, sitting in the backseat licking his vast
chops. As for Jemima Jane, the Willing Warlock had to look away quickly.
She was chocolate all over. There was a river of chocolate down her front
and more plas-tered into her red curls like mud.

"Why aren't you going on driving for?" Jemima Jane demanded. Towser at
once surged to his huge feet to back up the demand.

"I am, I am!" the Willing Warlock said, hastily starting the engine.

"You have forgotten to fasten your seat belt," the car reminded him
priggishly. And as the car moved forward, it added, "It is now lighting-up
time. You require headlights."

The Willing Warlock started the wipers, rolled down the win-dows, played
music, and finally managed to turn on the lights. He drove back onto the
big road, hating all three of them. And drove. Jemima Jane stood up on the
backseat behind him. The gateau had made her distressingly lively. She