"Arthura?" asked Sam. It was the first time any of them had spoken for some time, too overwhelmed by the magnitude of what Sutta Hooe had said to each of them before they left. "Why'd she call you that, Kerra?"

Kerra was riding at the head of the party, straight-backed and unblinking. "Arthura is my name in the Common Tongue. The Lady of Rainwall knew me first by that name, and so she prefers to use it when not within the forest of RĂ©-Nancet." Her voice, always low and soft, was quieter than usual and her eyes flitted from side to side.

No one said anything more for a long time, concentrating on their own distracted thoughts. The land they were riding over slowly became flatter, and as they crested the last hill a forest suddenly loomed into their vision. It was huge and dark, and that was were their path was leading. Kerra silently rode on towards the forest with the hobbits trailing close behind her, but even her fierce presence was not enough to keep away the fear that they all felt as they entered the forest. They had not traveled for long when they reached a fork in the path, the two new trails branching off into the deep, heavy darkness.

"Which way now?" said Frodo, glancing around worriedly. The forest was dark and heavy, not unlike the forest of Mirkwood, but there was something in the air that grated against his throat as he breathed. It was a harsh, metallic sensation, as if blood had been boiled and the steam left to escape into the air. The forest looked as if, in spite of its eager lushness, it was in pain, the trees straining to put forth fruit and leaves to hide their suffering.The huge, almost-human forms of limb and branch and trunk were unnerving; they were too close to the travelers' own bodies to be written off as freaks of nature.

Kerra, signaling for her four companions to be silent, swung soundlessly off her mount and landed in a crouch. She inhaled deeply of the tainted air, and exhaled in a slow, smooth stream that gradually became visible as it gathered in a spiral before her. It seemed to be made of iridescent scales, frail and glittering, and with a sharp slashing gesture from Kerra's right hand, it sped away, spreading itself whisper-thin as it flew into the trees. The whole experience was silent, but it seemed so familiar to the four hobbits that they knew, if they only had time to think, they would remember where they had seen this before. It was the taste, the tickling deep in the back of their throats, that they always felt when fey magic was used around them.

The spinning tendrils were flying back, twining around Kerra's face and weaving themselves through her hair, twisting in circles near her ears. There was a subtle sort of communication going on that the four hobbits were not privy to; they had to wait until Kerra relayed whatever information she chose to them.

Her eyes flew open, a flash of fear glinting in the blue of her irises before fleeing away. She grimaced and turned back to her companions.

"We must go through the forest," she said in a hoarse whisper. "These trails are no longer safe; Lanal has taken both of the passes out of the forest, and I will not risk being caught so early in our journey. I like this idea even less than you, for I know what lurks here, but it is the only way. And no, Master Pippin--there is no other way. To turn back would be to risk capture once more, and even Lanal fears what sleeps in the Molasba Forest." Without a look at any of them, she gracefully leapt back into the saddle and rode straight into the forest.

Sam tried to swallow, but his mouth was dry as he gazed into the forest. Kerra was trying to force her way through the heavy undergrowth, but it was slow going even though she was using her twin swords to slash through the bush. The four hobbits watched her in silence until she turned around, soaking in sweat although she had only gone a few paces.

"Hurry up then! Time is of the essence!" She turned back to her labors, hacking away to clear a path for those behind her. They followed reluctantly, panting as they had to shove aside thick plant life. Hours seemed to pass as they struggled through the forest with no visible change in the light to tell them whether or not time had passed in the outside world.

The forest was a place of discontent; though they could never catch movement as it happened, the whole forest was shifting and changing: a tree they thought they could lead off of was suddenly gone when one blinked, or the ponies started at some small noise only they could hear.

Molasba sapped all color from whatever was with its borders too, Sam noticed dully. Their clothes were reduced to an ashy grey, and even Kerra's hair looked flat and lifeless in the searing gloom. All was silence except for hard breathing and the occasional oath as a clinging vine had to be torn away from one's legs or those of one's mount.

Again and again the hobbits forced themselves to the breaking point, drawing upon their last reserves of energy to keep up with Kerra, though the group moved at no more than a crawl. Finally, Kerra stopped and raised her hand.

"We will rest here tonight. We can go no farther without risking collapse and foolish maneuvers." She tied her pony's reins to a nearby tree and unloaded her mount of its supplies. Even the ponies deserved a rest. The four hobbits followed her lead dully, throwing down blankets and and food bundles in a rush to get to sleep as soon as they could. They would have fallen straight to sleep but for Kerra insisting that they eat before they rested. They fed the ponies first, then themselves, and after Kerra claimed the first watch, the four hobbits dropped into restless sleep.

Sam awoke sluggishly the next morning, with no welcoming sunlight making it through the thick foliage above him. The bloody smell was stronger than ever, making him gag with its rich, fruity scent. He looked up slowly and saw that all the others were still asleep. Even Kerra had dozed off, her swords crossed in her lap; although this was most unusual, it was not that sight that made Sam cry out.

His voice awoke all the others; he was shouting unintelligibly, his voice shrill with fear. Kerra awoke swiftly , her pupils dilating as they rested upon the horrors before them. Without a word, she reared up from where she had been sitting and leapt to Sam's side. She clapped a rough hand over his mouth to stop the flow of noise before it could alert any enemies that might still be lurking nearby. Sam's senses had been right; the bloody smell was stronger, and for a good reason.

Sometime during the time when the group had been resting, the ponies, poor creatures, had been slaughtered where they stood. The animals had been eviscerated, with intestines and bowels looped over low-hanging branches, and blood smeared everywhere, even within the bundles of food. There were words in the Common Tongue carved in the largest tree in the vicinity:

"You have been warned."