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

“This morning?” said Megan, her voice concerned. “What are you talking about?”
“Didn’t Hugo mention the assassins?” asked Jack.
“Assassins,” said Megan, her eyes flashing dangerously. She turned to the raven. “What
assassins?”
“Oops, sorry,” said the bird quickly. Obviously, Megan frightened him a good deal more than
Jack. “Since the attempt failed, I decided not to say anything till Johnnie arrived and could provide the
details himself.”
“An assassination attempt,” said Merlin, frowning. “That’s strange. I recently tried using my
crystal ball to predict our enemy’s next move. While the results were inconclusive, I saw nothing to
indicate it planned any direct violent action against you. At least, not in the immediate future.”
“Not one attempt, but two,” said Jack. Briefly, he described both attacks and how Cassandra
foiled each of them. “In both cases, the killers were mortals, not supernaturals. But I believe behind them
stands a particularly fiendish supernatural mastermind.”
Jack drew in a deep breath. “No direct action, you said. Unfortunately, that doesn’t rule out
working through a proxy. The demigod is staying safely out of sight and letting another monstrous figure
fight its battles. Unlike Dietrich von Bern and his Border Redcaps, this villain uses human henchmen.”
“Which changes the rules of the game drastically,” said Cassandra. “Mortals aren’t bound by the
same rules as supernatural entities. And there are so many of them.”
The Amazon did not look pleased. Nor did anyone else. “You hinted earlier you knew the
identity of this new mastermind. Jack,” said Cassandra. “Who is it?”
“I’m not positive about the answer,” said Jack, “but everything I’ve seen and heard so far points
to one infamous figure. The actions of the assassins and the few remarks made by our one prisoner
before he committed suicide support my theory. Why he is serving our mysterious enemy I don’t know.
But for some unexplained reason, I’ve been marked for death by the Old Man of the Mountain.”

8
5
Nobody said anything for a moment. Jack gazed around at his friends and relatives, feeling a mixture of
annoyance and astonishment. He refused to believe that they didn’t comprehend his predicament.
“Wasn’t he the big, white-bearded giant in that Belly Boop cartoon?” asked Megan, a puzzled
expression on her face. “The one we watched on TNT with the Cab Calloway sound track?”
“You’re being threatened by an animated monster?” squawked Hugo. “That stretches credibility
a bit far, doesn’t it?”
Jack sighed in amazement. “Aren’t any of you familiar with the stories of the Old Man of the
Mountain and the Order of Assassins?”
Seeing the blank looks that greeted his question, he knew the answer, Eyebrows knotted in
concentration, he stared directly at the two ravens. “I thought you birds knew everything. The old legends
said you spied on mankind’s doings each day and whispered it that night in Odin’s ear.”
“A gross exaggeration, I’m afraid,” said Mongo. Of the two birds, he had the better vocabulary.
“As I mentioned earlier, Johnnie, our range was limited by the imagination of our creators. They never
envisioned the true extent of the world. We watched the northlands pretty well, but that was it.”
“Besides,” added Hugo, “we fly awfully fast, but there’s only so much territory you can cover in
a day.”
“I wish Simon was here,” said Jack, shaking his head unhappily. “He’d understand why I’m
concerned.”
“Where is the changeling?” asked Freda. “He sounds like an interesting character. I’d like to
meet him.”
“Simon left yesterday for England,” said Jack. “He’s arranging a transfer to another college. It’s a
ritual he goes through each year. He won’t return for weeks.”
A faery changeling, Simon Goodfellow had proven a valuable ally in Jack’s battle with Dietrich