Gifts to the Dark Gods. Mary McCluskey

The tap on her shoulder freezes her; the quiet, warning voice in her ear is exactly what she has feared. In a small dark place inside herself she is prepared for both. She had not expected a teenager.     "Come with me please, Madam," the young man says, his back stiff with self-importance. 🍓 Запрещённое в соцсетях искусство — t.me/kartiny/6166     He is young enough to be her son; young enough to be one of the troubled youths she tutors in the small charity-run literacy programme in the suburbs. She is tutoring…