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- Диана Уинн Джонс
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“
That
’
s
just
because
he
likes
clothes
,
”
said
Calcifer
.
His
orange
eyes
watched
Sophie
at
work
rather
meaningly
.
“
This
suit
was
spoiled
,
”
Sophie
said
.
“
It
isn
’
t
just
clothes
,
”
Michael
said
.
“
Remember
last
winter
when
we
were
down
to
your
last
log
and
Howl
went
off
and
bought
the
skull
and
that
stupid
guitar
?
I
was
really
annoyed
with
him
.
He
said
they
looked
good
.
”
“
What
did
you
do
about
logs
?
”
Sophie
asked
.
“
Howl
conjured
some
from
someone
who
owed
him
money
,
”
Michael
said
.
“
At
least
,
he
said
they
did
,
and
I
just
hoped
he
was
telling
the
truth
.
And
we
ate
seaweed
.
Howl
says
it
’
s
good
for
you
.
”
“
Nice
stuff
,
”
murmured
Calcifer
.
“
Dry
and
crackly
.
”
“
I
hate
it
,
”
said
Michael
staring
abstractedly
at
his
bowl
of
pounded
stuff
.
“
I
don
’
t
know
—
there
should
be
seven
ingredients
,
unless
it
’
s
seven
processes
,
but
let
’
s
try
it
in
a
pentacle
anyway
.
”
He
put
the
bowl
on
the
floor
and
chalked
a
sort
of
five
-
pointed
star
round
it
.
The
powder
exploded
with
a
force
that
blew
Sophie
’
s
triangles
into
the
hearth
.
Michael
swore
and
hurriedly
rubbed
out
the
chalk
.
“
Sophie
,
”
he
said
,
“
I
’
m
stuck
in
this
spell
.
You
don
’
t
think
you
could
possibly
help
me
,
do
you
?
”
