The manuscript was a relic of the 14th century, or so the shady antique dealer had claimed when Jack paid a small fortune for it three weeks ago. Its sheepskin pages were brittle, the edges gnawed by time and insects, but the inkblack with a faint reddish hueheld firm. Latin script flowed in tight, disciplined lines, interrupted by cryptic symbols that didn't belong to any alphabet Jack recognized. He traced a finger over one such mark: a jagged spiral bisected by a cross. It felt alive under his touch, as if it pulsed with secrets.
Dieser Download kann aus rechtlichen Gründen nur mit Rechnungsadresse in A, B, CY, CZ, D, DK, EW, E, FIN, F, GR, H, IRL, I, LT, L, LR, M, NL, PL, P, R, S, SLO, SK ausgeliefert werden.