In Which The Key To The Puzzle Is Discovered By Unexpected Means

Fifteen pairs of eyes watched Gandalf as he stood. He patted the pocket where he had put the animated Ring, and he took a few experimental steps.

"I am fine," he declared at last. "I can feel this Ring's attempts to gain a foothold in my mind, but it was never designed to affect a being such as myself. I believe my plan will work, at least for a time. Mithrandir, you may take the other Ring."

Mithrandir stooped to the live-action Frodo and cautiously removed the small Ring. He put it into his own pocket and grimaced. "I understand your caution, Gandalf," he said. "I, too, can feel the attempts of this Ring, but I believe that I am safe as well, for the time being. Let us awaken the Ring-bearers quickly, then, and we will proceed from there."

The wizards bent down and began a complex spell. Its harmonies rose and fell for a few minutes. Slowly, the two Hobbits on the ground began to stir and stretch. The animated Frodo woke first, blinking his overlarge eyes. He stared at the two wizards. "It worked," he murmured sleepily.

"Not quite," Strider whispered softly. "We will explain all once your counterpart awakens."

"I was having such a lovely dream. It was about the Shire and — and Bilbo was there."

"I'm sure. But you are needed now back in the world."

The animated Frodo scrubbed at his eyes with a rotoscoped hand and turned towards the wizards, who were working together on his counterpart. Blue eyes blinked open, squeezed shut, then squinted open again. The three-dimensional brain shook off sleep only to find itself in a dreamlike two-dimensional world. The Hobbit's mind boggled with the effort to see. Gandalf slipped an arm under his shoulders and helped him to sit.

"Welcome back, Frodo," he said.

"Where am I, Gandalf?" Frodo asked. "What is this place? It looks so strange? Where are the others? Are they all right?" A distinct emptiness made itself felt in his soul. "Oh, no! Where is--?"

"Peace," Gandalf interrupted. "There is someone you must meet first." He motioned with his hand, and the animated Ring-bearer stepped forward. The two Frodos stared at each other. Gandalf laid a hand unflinchingly on the rotoscoped shoulder. "This," he said, "is Mr. Underhill. Mr. Underhill, may I present the redoubtable Frodo Baggins."

"Charmed," Mr. Underhill said.

Frodo fished around under his shirt and frowned at Gandalf. Gandalf flashed a significant look at Mithrandir. "We have the Rings for safekeeping, Frodo," Gandalf explained. "He has your Ring, and I have that carried by Mr. Underhill. It would be dangerous for the two Rings to meet unshielded, so we thought to keep them apart and inactive. In part, that was why we made the two of you sleep for so long, until we sorted things out."

"I don't understand," Frodo said. "Where are we, exactly? And why are there suddenly two of me? Did it happen to the others as well?"

Sam knelt beside his master. "We seem to me in — in another version of Middle Earth," he said haltingly. "These people here, they're us, only they're not us, if you see what I mean. They're us in this Middle Earth, the same way we're us in our Middle Earth. We've all got our doubles. Mine's over there," he said, gesturing. Frodo looked over and saw Little Sam fussing and squirming and patting Mr. Underhill's hand with puppyish pleasure.

"An alternate version of our tale?" he said thoughtfully.

"Aye," Strider said. "Well-intentioned, but poorly executed. And, worst of all, never finished. We had hoped you might be able to shed some light on our predicament, but it appears that you have not finished your tale yet."

"So there's no hope for us at all," Mippin wailed. "Perry and me'll be trapped forever here with only each other to talk to all day, and when you're identical, even that's no fun." He curled up in a ball and began to cry. Perry tried vainly to avoid looking at his cousin, but soon found himself sniffling. The others stared awkwardly for a moment. Finally, Legolas scooped Mippin into his arms in one efficient movement. He stroked the Hobbit's hair and murmured soothing little noises, and Mippin's wails began to subside.

Frodo gazed thoughtfully into the middle distance. "Do you know," he said to no one in particular, "this is very much like one of the tales that Bilbo used to tell."

"You mean like one of his adventures with the dragon?" Merry asked.

"Well, no, not really," Frodo said. "At least, I don't think so. It was just that at times, he'd get rather an odd look on his face, and he'd start telling me snippets of tales. They always sounded like old tales, with lovely rich-sounding names in them and heroic deeds, but whenever I asked about them, he said they hadn't happened yet."

Bigwig suddenly looked up, with a fresh gleam in his eye. "Might I ask, what sorts of names and deeds did your Bilbo mention?"

"He told of a fair lady called Éowyn who fought a brave battle. He spoke of the doom of one Denethor and the deeds of Denethor's son Faramir —"

"–who was nearly burned to death by his grief-stricken father, but who recovered to wed the lady Éowyn, yes?" Bigwig asked.

"Why, yes," Frodo said. "I do think that was the tale that Bilbo told. How do you know of it?"

"Denethor is my father. Faramir is my brother. I had to know. . . " Bigwig's voice trailed off as he became aware that the others were watching him hungrily. "It was not more than a year or two after we were abandoned. I was casting about madly, for it was becoming clear to me then that, in addition to dying at the hands of foul orcs, I would never know the fate of the Ring or of my own family. I wandered far, searching for that which would help me."

"Well do I remember that," Greenleaf said quietly. "For it was about that time that I returned to the galaxy far, far away, feeling once again the pull of The Thing upon me."

"I wandered far," Bigwig said. "And eventually I stumbled upon yet another Middle Earth."

"Not the one where we were so mercilessly driven back?" Strider asked.

"No, for there were no singing orcs," Bigwig said. "There was nothing at all but sound. Can you imagine, an entire world made of nothing but sound!"

Frodo sat up a little straighter. "Bilbo sometimes spoke of the world without sight," he said. "I always thought he was referring to Gollum's cave."

"Nay," Bigwig said, "for I have been there, too. Once again, I was killed, though less painfully, it seemed to me. But here is something strange. After my death, but before my return to this place, I had a talk with a Hobbit. I never saw him, but I knew his voice. He had been a Ring-bearer. I begged him for news of my family. There was no time for more, as I was already fading from that world, but before we were parted completely, this Hobbit told me briefly what became of my father and brother. Then I returned here."

"Aye," rumbled Timkin. "I remember it well. You returned strangely calm, yet you would not tell us what had befallen you on your journey."

"It would have been of no use to you. I never knew the whole tale, for we were parted before the Hobbit could tell me."

"Bilbo told me of that world, I think," Frodo said. "He talked about having been a Ring-bearer. I thought it strange at the time, for he still had the Ring in his possession when he spoke of it."

"What do you make of this tale?" Boromir asked, fascinated.

"The Bilbo that this Ring-bearer speaks of," said Bigwig excitedly. "I believe he is the Hobbit that I met in the world without sight. He knows the end of the tale. I had long believed that he might tell me if I asked him, but I knew not where to find him. And now, into our grasp, comes the key to the puzzle. Frodo knows where he is."