Citizen in Spase. Stories / Гражданин в Космосе. Рассказы. Книга для чтения на английском языке

Dee smoothed out her apron, and said, “Miss Greeb, you know you have our complete confidence. What would you suggest?”

“All I can do I have done,” said Miss Greeb. “The only remaining thing is to call up Boarbas, the Demon of Children. And that, naturally, is up to you.”

“Oh, I don’t think it’s that serious yet,” Mr. Dee said quickly. “Calling up Boarbas is a serious measure.”

“As I said, that’s up to you,” Miss Greeb said. “Call Boarbas or not, as you see fit. As things stand now, your son will never be a wizard.

” She turned and started to leave.

“Won’t you stay for a cup of tea?” Mrs. Dee asked hastily.

“No, I must attend a Witch’s Coven in Cincinnati,” said Miss Greeb, and vanished in a puff of orange smoke.

Mr. Dee fanned the smoke with his hands and closed the door. “Phew,” he said. “You’d think she’d use a perfumed brand.”

“She’s old-fashioned,” Mrs. Dee murmured. They stood beside the door in silence. Mr. Dee was just beginning to feel the shock.

It was hard to believe that his son, his own flesh and blood, didn’t want to carry on the family tradition. It couldn’t be true!

“After dinner,” Dee said, finally, “I’ll have a man-to-man talk with him. I’m sure we won’t need any demoniac intervention.”

“Good,” Mrs. Dee said. “I’m sure you can make the boy understand.” She smiled, and Dee caught a glimpse of the old witch-light flickering behind her eyes.

“My roast!” Mrs.

Dee gasped suddenly, the witch-light dying. She hurried back to her kitchen.

Dinner was a quiet meal. Morton knew that Miss Greeb had been there, and he ate in guilty silence, glancing occasionally at his father. Mr. Dee sliced and served the roast, frowning deeply. Mrs. Dee didn’t even attempt any small talk.

After bolting his dessert, the boy hurried to his room.

“Now we’ll see,” Mr. Dee said to his wife. He finished the last of his coffee, wiped his mouth and stood up.

“I am going to reason with him now. Where is my Amulet of Persuasion?”

Mrs. Dee thought deeply for a moment. Then she walked across the room to the bookcase. “Here it is,” she said, lifting it from the pages of a brightly jacketed novel[8 - a brightly jacketed novel – роман с яркой обложкой]. “I was using it as a marker.”

Mr. Dee slipped the amulet into his pocket, took a deep breath, and entered his son’s room.