The bronze cauldron in the corner of the Inner Sanctum shuddered with another muffled thump.
Thump! Thump! Thump!
Inside the welded vessel, Blood-Cauldron Master Vex was still pounding against the heavy plating. His voice had grown hoarse and raspy from a night of constant screaming, but his rage had not diminished.
Elder Mordan slipped through the fifth-floor brass double doors just before dawn on Day 16, carrying a basket of dried wolfberries.
The moment his eyes fell upon the twenty unconscious inquisitors stacked neatly behind the charcoal sacks, the elder’s knees buckled.
He dropped his basket.
Red wolfberries scattered across the black jade flagstones like drops of fresh blood.
Then Mordan saw the welded bronze cauldron.
