"A witch gave it to me at the festival," Handy said. "Griffon, said something about mists. I gave it to Tho– Crimson, to hold onto. I don't know who the witch was or why she gave it to me, nor where it came from. I assume thou wouldst know?" Handy’s voice was still shaky but recovered enough to at least put on his airs. 'Keep the mask. Keep it on. Something to focus on. Keep focused...'