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Ваша оценка<p>The devil craves my soul. It calls to him like the scent of fresh blood.
I am not afraid.
The night of summer solstice, I do something stupid. Drawn to the fire of magic, I approach the gods in their sacred circle. I am just a mortal, one of many. I shouldn’t merit their attention.
But behind the royal figures of the gods a shadow looms, menacing yellow eyes burning in its gloom. He asks me to dance. His clawed hands circle my waist, turning me to the sound of hoofbeats while his demonic voic...
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Jaga and the Devil
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