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

"Grrrr," said the dog, and the child said, "I'm not a boy."

"I meant the dog," the Willing Warlock said hastily. The dog's growl
enlarged to a rumble that shook the car. Perhaps the dog was not a boy
either. The Willing Warlock knew when he was beaten. It was a pity, when
it was such a nice car, but this world was full of cars. Provided he made
sure the next one was empty, he could steal one anytime he liked. He
slammed the rear door shut and started to open his own.

The dog was too quick for him. Before he had reached the han-dle, its great
teeth were fastened into the shoulder of his jacket, right through the cloth.
He could feel them digging into his skin under-neath. And it growled harder
than ever. "Let go," the Willing War-lock said, without hope, and sat very
still.

"Go on driving," commanded the child.

"Why?" said the Willing Warlock.

"Because I like driving in cars," said the child. "Towser will let you go when
you drive."

"I don't know how to make the car go," the Willing Warlock said sullenly.

"Stupid," said the child. "Daddy uses those keys there, and he pushes on
the pedals with his feet."

Towser backed this up with another growl and dug his teeth in a little.
Towser clearly knew his job, and his job seemed to be to back up anything
the child said. The Willing Warlock sighed, thinking of years in prison, but
he found the keys and located the pedals. He turned the keys. He pushed
on the pedals. The engine started with a roar.

Then another voice spoke. "You have forgotten to fasten your seat belt," it
said. "I cannot proceed until you do so."

It was here that the Willing Warlock realized that his troubles had only just
begun. The car was bullying him now. He had no idea where the seat belt
was, but it is amazing what you can do if a mouthful of white fangs are
fastened into your shoulder. The Willing Warlock found the seat belt. He
did it up. He found a lever that said "forward" and pushed it. He pressed on
pedals. The engine roared, but nothing else happened.

"You are wasting petrol," the car told him acidly. "Release the hand brake. I
cannot proтАФ"

The Willing Warlock found a sort of stick in the floor and moved it. It
snapped like a crocodile, and the car jerked. "You are wasting petrol," the
car said, boringly. "Release the foot brake. I cannot pro-ceedтАФ"