"Simon Hawke - Wizards 08 - Wizard of Lovecraft Cafe" - читать интересную книгу автора (Hawke Simon)

"But that's what you're getting?"

She nodded. "Yes, but. . . it's crazy. How could anybody be thousands of years old?"

'But you said you also had the sense the people living here were young."

"Well, yes, that, too. It's very peculiar. ..."

"What else can you pick up about them? You said there were three?"

'Two males and a female," she said immediately. Then she frowned again and shook her head. "No, that
isn't right. I'm getting one female and one male." Another headshake." No, that's only two, and there
were three ..."

"Well, which is it?"

"I don't know! Be quiet, Mac, I can't focus. . . ."

Her frustration was clearly evident. McGuire had never seen her react this way before. Her psychic
impressions were usually so right on the money that she had a tendency to get cocky. This was a new
experience for her. He could see that she was thrown by it.

"It's the strangest thing," she said. "I'm picking up different impressions, but they all seem to contradict
each other and most of them are completely illogical."

"Is it possible that could have been done on purpose?" asked McGuire.
She glanced at him with a puzzled expression. "What do you mean?"

"I don't know, exactly. Maybe a spell of some sort, to confuse anyone who tried to get a reading on this
place."

She thought about it for a moment. "I suppose that's possible," she said. "It's not really my area of
expertise, you know. You'd have to ask an adept. But if there was some sort of spell that ..." Her voice
suddenly trailed off.

"What is it?"

"A spell," she said slowly, her voice scarcely above a whisper. "Yes, a spell. . . ."

She was on the verge of something. McGuire wanted to press her for details, but at the same time, he
didn't want to say anything that might throw her off. Come on, Gypsy, he thought, you can do it. Come
on. Tell me what went down here.

"The living triangle ..." she said suddenly.

McGuire quickly took out his notebook and started writing. The Gypsy closed her eyes and spoke again,
in a sort of chant:

"Three stones, three keys to lock the spell,
Three jewels to guard the Gates of Hell,