The gate loomed over us, ten feet of iron and secrecy. The strange carvings seemed to shimmer faintly in the brazier light, as if the wheat stalks were swaying in an invisible breeze.
Vorren gave it a shove, but it didn't budge. "Solid. Old. And locked from the inside."
"Inside?" Lilith frowned. "Who locks themselves in a vault?"
I knelt to examine the symbols more closely. "Someone who's either hiding from something… or keeping something trapped."
Jex's grin widened. "Either way, I'm in."
________________________________________
We searched for a keyhole but found only a small slot shaped like — and I swear I'm not making this up — a loaf of bread.
Mister Fog, who had been silently observing up to this point, finally spoke. "It requires a Bread Offering."
I blinked. "A what now?"
He floated closer, peering into the slot. "Ancient baker cults used to seal away their greatest recipes in bread vaults. Only an offering baked with the correct 'blessing dough' could open it."
