“Strange,” Kile said. “I actually heard that the Teshlor Knights were first conceived by the then soon-to-be Emperor Nolyn, along with Amicus Killian, and Jerel DeMardefeld.”

“They reestablished what has become the modern order,” Farilane explained. “But the techniques and traditions trace all the way back to the pre-imperial age and, well . . . Griffin the Great.”

“I see,” Kile said.

“I don’t,” Sheldon said, prowling around the caskets. “How do we get these lids off?”

Turning her attention to the stone boxes, Farilane saw they, too, were marked with the same symbols: a hammer, a vase, and a book. “I’m guessing the one with the book is the best bet, and the only way is to lift and slide off the top. Sheldon, you grab the foot. Kile, take the head. I’ll take the center.”

Following her directions, they each found a firm grip and lifted. The stone lid was as heavy as it appeared, and while Farilane had hoped to catch her side and help ease it to the floor, the weight was far too great. In a moment of panic, they all let go, and the top of the casket fell and hit the floor with a loud, echoing boom! The stone cracked, and half the lid flopped over, making still more noise.

Just then, through the still-open door at the base of the stairs, a half-dozen monks entered the room, looking aghast at the shattered casket lid and then at the three of them.

“I know this looks bad,” Farilane said.

In her head, she ran a list of potential lies: We couldn’t sleep. We thought we heard something. My tunic got caught on the edge of this lid. Nothing useful. She looked at Kile and Sheldon, who showed no signs of help.

Among those who soon entered the tomb were Hildreth, Thorlac, and the abbot, which didn’t bode well for their future. No chance these three just happened to be passing by the temple in the middle of the night and heard the noise.

Farilane gave up. With a slump of her shoulders, she came clean. “We were looking for something.”

The abbot nodded. “It’s in there.”

“It is?” the princess replied, shocked not only at his reply but by the calm, casual, even friendly way he said it. She expected shouting, raised fists, and red faces. None of the monks appeared even slightly perturbed.

Farilane looked inside the casket and not surprisingly found a shrouded body, but along with it was a wrapped bundle on the figure’s chest. She reached in, hesitating, giving the monks time to react, as she fully expected them to stop her or at least yell their disapproval. No one moved or spoke as Farilane lifted the bundle, and in full view of all, she unwrapped it. Even before she was done, almost as soon as she picked the parcel up, the princess knew what it was, and it wasn’t the Horn of Gylindora.