Now there was no choice but to descend into the darkness and seek what was his. The helm was back on the shelf beside the little skulls with their blank, staring eye holes. Eyvind tried not to look at them as he reached up. He needed no reminding that this chamber was a forbidden place. The talk of a Hidden Tribe was more than enough to curb a man’s curiosity. His fingers encountered something hidden underneath the helm, a small soft object. He shuddered, and tried not to imagine what it might be. As his hand felt it, he seemed to hear a voice, a fierce, dark whisper: Take it. Take it, warrior. He did not look around, but seized the small bundle in one hand and the helm in the other, and fled up the crumbling stone steps to the top chamber and out into the light of day. Only then did he squat down to lay what he held on the ground before him and examine it.