The sun was still slumbering behind clouds when Crinte rose. He dressed rapidly in the darkness, tightening the belt on his pants, clamping on his battle breastplate, and yanking his green tunic over them. He pulled his black boots on and tucked daggers into the hidden folds. Finally, he fastened his sword at his waist and picked up the Horn of Shilmi. It was a small object, one he held securely in both hands. A band of gold surrounded the mouthpiece yet the horn itself was bronze and the opening was covered in silver. Its rounded edges shone with a light of their own, but even as he gazed on it Crinte could tell it was whittled out of bone and molded in bronze, silver, and gold. His hands grew cold at the thought, and part of him wanted to return the horn to Legone and rid himself of the dark encumbrance...

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