The Distant Temple
"Is it true, Master Aldous? Do you still keep the vial?" The question hung in the air, thick as the dust motes dancing in the shaft of afternoon light. Aldous did not look up. His hands were steady, moving with the precise, mechanical grace of a man who had long ago traded his soul for a method. He held the crystal tube between his thumb and forefinger. It was small. It was fragile. It...
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