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

"Tell me his address," said the Willing Warlock.

The Accredited Witch told him. "But it won't do you a scrap of good," she
said unhelpfully. "Jean-Pierre always charges the earth. Now I'll thank you
to get out of here before you bring the police down on me, too."

The Willing Warlock went out of the witch's front door into Coven Street
and blenched at the sound of police whistles still shrilling in the distance.
Since it seemed to him that he had no time to waste, he hurried to the
nearest toyshop and parted with his last half crown for a toy pistol. Armed
with this, he walked into the first post office he came to.

"Your money or your life," he said to the postmistress. The Will-ing Warlock
was a bulky young man who always looked as if he needed to shave, and
the Postmistress was sure he was a desperate character. She let him clear
out her safe.
The Willing Warlock put the money and the pistol in his pocket and hailed a
taxi in which he drove all the way to Shepherd's Bush, feeling this was the
next best thing to having a car of his own. It cost a lot, but he arrived at
the French wizard's office still with ┬г273 6s 4d in his pocket.

The French wizard shrugged in a very French way. "What is it you expect me
to do for you, my friend? Me, I try not to offend the police. If you wish me
to help, it will cost you."

"A hundred pounds," said the Willing Warlock. "Hide me some-how."

Jean-Pierre did another shrug. "For that money," he said, "I could hide you
two ways. I could turn you into a small round stoneтАФ"

"No, thanks," said the Willing Warlock.

"тАФand keep you in a drawer," said Jean-Pierre. "Or I could send you to
another world entirely. I could even send you to a world where you would
have your magic againтАФ"

"Have my magic?" exclaimed the Willing Warlock.

"тАФbut that would cost you twice as much," said Jean-Pierre. "Yes, naturally
you could have your magic again, if you went somewhere where
Chrestomanci has no power. The man is not all-powerful."

"Then I'll go to one of those places," said the Willing Warlock.

"Very well." In a bored sort of way, Jean-Pierre picked up a pack of cards
and fanned them out. "Choose a card. This decides which world you will
grace with your blue chin."

As the Willing Warlock stretched out his hand to take a card, Jean-Pierre