About the book: year / The rector hides his hands in the pockets of his gray trousers and bows his head to his shoulder: - That's all? - I’m still getting wet. - That's all? — The magician stubbornly repeats his question. - I'm starting to freeze. — The rain is getting stronger. I’m already all wet, and he’s got water off a duck’s back. “If you don’t let me go... lightning will definitely strike me - I’m not lucky - and I’ll die.” And you will have to get rid of the body of a dead adept.