17 SUMMONING THE TITANS
We stand in a valley before a mountain range, where we see a dark and sharp-beaked Roc upon a distant craggy Aerie, who is eyeing us hungrily. Low-lying rain clouds obscure the mountain peaks. The mountains shadow the valley, and the air is chill. The tension of impending doom soaks the valley, a victim of the dreams of the Titans. Beneath these mountains sleep the last of the pent Titans of Old. The others were freed long since, and have returned to the stars.
Tyr unslings the Horn of Return and holds it up at arm’s length to admire its golden face. He looks to each of us to ensure our support, and then he holds it in play position and blows into the horn. A thunderous and mournful note like that of a fog-bound tug rings out and shakes the air. For perhaps three
