Aragorn was troubled.  All the company had been glad to reach Hollin, which the Elves had called Eregion in the days they dwelt there.  The weather had been milder, the country less bleak.  He could see the traces of the Elves in the landscape, could still feel their wholesome influence on the land, though they had left for the Havens long ago.  Yet his uneasiness had only grown.  This country was too empty, and too silent.  While the company rested after their meal, the first hot meal they had enjoyed for many days, he had called Legolas to him.  The elf's senses were sharper than his, and perhaps the land would whisper secrets to him that it had not divulged to the Ranger.

Legolas had slipped away—and returned dragging a human girl.  She appeared human, at least, though she was clad strangely.  He had grasped his sword-hilt instinctively.  Boromir, beside him, turned and brandished his own blade.

"Who do you bring here?" Boromir hissed in alarm.

"A young woman, or so it would seem," replied Legolas.  An argument ensued.  Boromir expressed the fear, shared by others of the Fellowship, that the girl was an agent of the Enemy sent to betray their presence—either a human, or "some wretched creature" ensorcelled to appear as one. Aragorn thought he could be right—but Gandalf had disappeared, as he was wont to do; he urged the Fellowship to wait until the wizard had returned to give them counsel.  After some discussion—Frodo, Aragorn was interested to observe, was outspoken in his defence of the girl—they agreed to refrain from killing her until Gandalf arrived. 

After supper—rabbit stew—Gandalf had still not shown up, and Gimli was missing as well.  He had gone off to find some hillock, to get a better view of the Misty Mountains, Frodo said.  Legolas went to look for the dwarf, and Aragorn turned his attention to the girl.  He tried speaking to her in Westron, the universal tongue, but saw no comprehension in her face.  He had noticed her hair was yellow, like the Rohirrim, so he tried some phrases in Rohirric (though as a maiden of Rohan she should have known Westron from birth).  The girl shook her head in nervous apology and murmured something in her own tongue—one he did not recognize.  It did not sound like Dunlending, nor like Drúedainic—but he attempted to speak to her in both, although his Drúedainic was very rusty. No result.  Legolas had already tried both Quenya and Sindarin.  Out of desperation, Aragorn tried them again, with still no result.  The halflings looked on with interest. 

"Perhaps she speaks Dwarvish," suggested Frodo.  "Or Orkish."

"Perhaps," said Aragorn grimly.  "But I do not know Dwarvish, and Gimli has disappeared.  And I dare not utter the Black Speech in this place." He glanced up at the sky, as though he feared something from above might hear them.  Thin clouds obscured most of the stars.

"Perhaps she speaks no tongue at all," said Boromir.  The fire had burnt low, and he was staring into the coals.  "Perhaps she is a conjured spirit, or transformed beast, who takes the form of a woman and is controlled by the Enemy."  Frodo shivered.

"And perhaps she is not," Aragorn protested.  But Boromir's explanation made more sense than any others he could think of.  He certainly hoped that Gandalf would return soon. 

The ranger looked up as Legolas emerged through the trees— without Gimli—and motioned him away from the fire.  Aragorn glanced towards Boromir, but he seemed lost in thought, his eyes on the flames.  Legolas beckoned again, more urgently, and moved to the edge of the trees.  Aragorn joined him there. The elf's face was hard. 

"Something strange is happening, Elessar.  I returned to where I found the girl, then tracked her path backwards.  It was almost too easy; she made no effort to disguise her trail.  Then—"  He seemed uneasy.

"What did you find?"

"That's just it.  I found nothing.  One moment her trail was clear as a team of horses, and the next—there was nothing.  Nothing but a depression, as though she had fallen from a great height.  No footsteps led towards it—there was only her path away, which I had followed.  Not a trace of man, elf, dwarf, orc.  Nothing but the forest animals, and those tracks were scant and old." His eyes drifted East to the Misty Mountains, below the stars.  "I can think of nothing but that she was dropped from above by some great creature, or that she was made to appear in mid-air.  Whatever brings her here, I cannot imagine it bodes us well."

"No, it cannot.  As you know, something about this place has made me uneasy, ever since we arrived." said Aragorn.  He told Legolas of his efforts to speak to her, how every language he tried had been met with dumb incomprehension.  "The girl seems guileless enough, but something about her disturbs me."

"Yes," said Legolas darkly.  "She speaks none of the known tongues.  It is very odd."

"That is indeed suspicious, but I was thinking of something else."

"That she is clad so strangely?"

"No, not that."

"You mean her arrival, then.  The way she appeared seemingly out of no-where."

"No," Aragorn frowned.  "Though that is perhaps the most suspicious thing of all."

"What then, Elessar?"

"I sense... a vacancy behind her eyes.  An emptiness in her very mind."  Legolas's eyes widened in recognition.

"Then you have felt it too?"