"Robert A. Heinlein - Magic, Inc" - читать интересную книгу автора (Heinlein Robert A)

demonologists in the business, expert magicians themselves, who can report
on how a magician conducts himself in the Half World, and whether or not
he's likely to bring his clients bad luck. Then we advise our clients whom
to deal with, and keep them from having bad luck. See?'

I saw all right. I wasn't born yesterday. The magicians I dealt with were
local men that I had known for years, men with established reputations both
here and in the Half World. They didn't do anything to stir up the
elementals against them, and they did not have bad luck.

What this slimy item meant was that I should deal only with the magicians
they selected at whatever fees they chose to set, and they would take a cut
on the fees and also on the profits of my business. If I didn't choose to
cooperate', I'd be persecuted by elementals they had an arrangement with -
renegades, probably, with human vices - my stock in trade spoiled and my
customers frightened away. If I still held out, I could expect some really
dangerous black magic that would injure or kill me. All this under the
pretence of selling me protection from men I knew and liked.

A neat racket!

I had heard of something of the sort back East, but had not expected it in a
city as small as ours. He sat there, smirking at me, waiting for my reply,
and twisting his neck in his collar, which was too tight. That caused me to
notice something. In spite of his foppish clothes a thread showed on his
neck just above the collar in back. It seemed likely that it was there to
support something next to his skin - an amulet. If so, he was superstitious,
even in this day and age.

There's something you've omitted,' I told him. I'm a seventh son, born under
a caul, and I've got second sight. My luck's all right, but I can see bad
luck hovering over you like cypress over a grave!' I reached out and
snatched at the thread. It snapped and came loose in my hand. There was an
amulet on it, rght enough, an unsavoury little wad of nothing in particular
and about as appetizing as the bottom of a bird cage. I dropped it on the
floor and ground it into the dirt.

He had jumped off the counter and stood facing me, breathing hard. A knife
showed up in his right hand; with his left hand he was warding off the evil
eye, the first and little fingers pointed at me, making the horns of
Asmodeus. I knew I had him - for the time being.
Here's some magic you may not have heard of,' I rapped out, and reached into
a drawer behind the counter. I hauled Out a pistol and pointed it at his
face. Cold iron! Now go back to your owner and tell him there's cold iron
waiting for him, too - both ways!'

He backed away, never taking his eyes off my face. If looks could kill, and
so forth. At the door he paused and spat on the doorsill, then got out of
sight very quickly.