"Robert Weinberg - Logical Magician 02 - A Calculated Magician" - читать интересную книгу автора (Weinberg Robert)

not easy trying to associate one of your parents with a legendary character. I never paid much attention
to Mom’s pet blackbirds.”
Cassandra tossed the corpse of the bearded assassin over one shoulder. “Don’t worry about it.
I’m sure she’ll tell you all you need to know. How about changing your clothes? You don’t want your
mother to see you covered with dirt. In the meantime, I’ll take care of the bodies.”
“Whatever you say,” declared Jack. “I’ll meet you at the car in half an hour.”
“Sounds good,” said Cassandra. Then, before he could wander off, she grabbed him by an arm.
Barely exerting any pressure, there was incredible power in the Amazon’s fingers.
“Stay alert, Jack,” she warned. “If someone wants you dead, there’s a good chance they sent out
more than one kill squad. There could be another bunch of assassins back at camp.”
“I’ll keep my eyes open,” promised Jack, feeling very melodramatic. “One brush with death a
day is my limit.”
Walking as quietly as possible through the woods, Jack considered the morning’s events. As
usual, things were taking place at a much faster rate than he preferred.
In most of the fantasy novels he read, the hero always had long periods of time when nothing
happened. That was when the brilliant hero finally put all the facts together and came up with the startling
deductions that saved the day. Jack shook his head in disgust. Most of his thinking was done while
running from one supernatural menace after another. What little free time he had, he usually spent
recuperating or sleeping.
Concentrating, he tried to recall anything else his father had ever said about his mother. They had
met when his dad was in Europe on a business trip thirty years ago. Other than the odd match she made
with his father---she was tall, busty, and blonde, while his father was short, dark, and slender---he
couldn’t think of anything the least bit unusual about her. She made a wonderful peanut butter, lettuce,
and mayo sandwich; enjoyed working for the family export business; and owned a horse named Flying
Feet that she rode once a week on Saturday.
Her two pet ravens, Hugo and Mongo, she kept outside in a special birdhouse in the backyard.
They often disappeared for days, sometimes weeks, at a time, but they always came back. Thinking
back to his earliest childhood, Jack couldn’t remember a time when the birds hadn’t been around. He
wondered, idly, if his mother was a witch and the birds were her familiars.
Somehow, he couldn’t imagine his mom as a witch. Especially not after having met a witch
named Hazel who lived in the trailer camp along with her cat, Sylvester. With a mental shrug, he pushed
the idea from his mind. As Cassandra had stated, he would learn the truth soon enough. He was nearing
his trailer. Time to watch out for strangers.
Fortunately, no one suspicious was about. Jack hurriedly changed into a pair of good slacks and
a sport shirt. He also managed to wash his face and comb his hair before heading over to the parking lot
where he was to meet Cassandra. After all, though his mother might be a witch or a sorceress or one of a
dozen other types of supernatural entities, first and foremost, she was still his mom.

8
3
Cassandra waited patiently by the side of a 1967 Buick Electra. Piled at her feet were three AK-47
automatic rifles, a trio of mismatched handguns, five knives, over a dozen hand grenades, and several
lethal-looking items Jack didn’t recognize. The Amazon looked grim. The blood drained from Jack’s
face.
“Where did the heavy armament come from?” he asked.
“Courtesy of our friends in the woods,” replied Cassandra, “This stuff was all I could carry. You
should’ve seen the stuff I left behind. Those characters were walking arsenals. They definitely meant
business, Jack. What they lacked in style and grace, they made up in firepower.”
“Aren’t hand grenades illegal?” he asked, not able to think of much else to say.
Cassandra shrugged. “I doubt if they worried about the police.”