Chapter Seven
Awakening
Elladan knew from the instant Frank and Miranda had returned that they had failed to reach their children in time.
Miranda seemed utterly devastated; her bold determination was now replaced by open despair. He had only to look into her eyes to see evidence of the tears shed before this moment and his heart ached for her. Her connection to her children was like a living thread and to lose them in this way was like suffering a brutal amputation. Since his arrival into the Miller household, Elladan had watched her with Sam and Pip and could see how much of her being they had become. He remembered his father's eyes when Elrond had set sail for Valinor at the end of the Third Age, the sorrow that was etched in his face at knowing he would never see the Evenstar again because of her choice to remain at Estel's side.
Miranda now bore the same shattered look.
Frank hid his anguish better since men were more accustomed to concealing their emotions than women, however, it was clear to the twins that his sorrow was equally deep and his pain just as cutting. He was forcing himself to be brave for his wife's sake but Elladan could tell that he was just as distraught at the loss of their children as she was. These were parents who loved their children dearly, whose affection for them could be seen in every word spoken and were now gutted because their family had been ripped asunder. Eru help him, Elladan had no words of comfort that could make this anguish any easier to bear. The enemy had taken the children and even if Frank were able to tell them what he knew about Bryan's whereabouts, the Nazgul would still kill both children Pip out of sheer spite because they were Miranda's children.
The Witch King of Angmar would have his vengeance on Eowyn after all.
"We were too late," Frank said as he entered the house and found it terribly silent without the sound of Sam and Pip tearing through the halls or arguing about something or rather. That silence was almost soul crushing and he had to swallow the hard lump in his throat because he was so damn near to losing control of himself. He could not lose his focus now, not when his sons needed him so desperately, wherever they were.
"They were already there at the school," Frank's eyes met Elladan's as he spoke, "They took Sam and Pip. We tried to follow but we failed."
"We lost them," Miranda said in a small voice as she drifted over to the sofa and lowered herself into it.
"We'll get them back," Frank went to her immediately, unable to bear seeing the terrible pain in her eyes. Sitting next to her on the sofa, he allowed her to bury her face in the crook of his shoulder as she wept fresh tears.
The sound broke the heart of every man present.
Frank wished he had the words to make this better for her but how could he console her when he could barely contain his own despair? After the accident in the jeep, the two of them had scrambled out of the ruined vehicle, grateful that they had suffered no greater injuries than some scrapes and bruises. The airbags and seat belts had done their jobs well but husband and wife felt little joy in surviving unscathed. With the children gone, it felt like his insides had been ripped apart and he could not even begin to imagine what Miranda was feeling at this point.
"Why would they take your kids?" Eric asked, not knowing what else to say since he was never very good at offering consolation.
He did not know Frank and Miranda very well but he could see the effect of the children's loss on the couple and wished he could offer some useful advice but all he had in the wake of their encounter with the creatures in the laboratory was more questions. Following their confrontation with Frank and Miranda rushing off, they had been left to the ministrations of the two men he had come to know as Elladan and Elrohir, brothers whose accents he could not quite place but sensed he could trust. The four men had then returned to the archaeologist's home to await them there.
The brothers claimed that the creatures were capable of being harmed by fire and after the explosion Miranda had caused, they would need to nurse their wounds before they could set out on the hunt again. Eric had been dubious about this but as the time stretched during their wait, it would appear that they were right. In fact, Eric was starting to suspect that these men knew all about the assassins that had pursued Jason and him across Europe.
Unfortunately, they had been rather closed mouthed about what they knew and after awhile; Eric conceded defeat and abandoned his line of questioning. Instead he ruminated on everything that had transpired in the laboratory from the moment the creatures had made their appearance to the instant Miranda had ignited the room in a fiery explosion. At the time, so much had been a blur or words and images, cloaked in gunfire and urgent need to escape that there was very little time to process all of it clearly. However, now that things were calmer, he could think about what had actually happened.
Once they had seen Frank, it was as if nothing else had mattered and considering that it was pure coincidence that the archaeologist had stumbled into this affair, Eric wanted to know what it was about Frank that was so bloody important.
The children of the Riddermark. That was what the creature has said. Your brother cannot save you now. What on earth did that mean?
"They want to know where Bryan is," Frank stated, standing up as he ignored Eric and faced Elladan. "Isn't that right? They took my sons so I would have to tell them where my brother is."
Elladan could not meet his gaze but nodded in the confirmation of his words. "Yes," he replied softly. "I imagine that will be their demand."
"Your brother?" Jason protested becoming as completely lost as Eric was now. "Those things were after us, not you."
"That may be so," Elrohir interjected, "but you have led them here and unknowingly to Frank. If they did know before of his existence before this, they certainly do now. Once they saw you, they realized you were the link to Bryan that they had been searching for so long."
"How could they know?" Frank demanded. His ability to remain calm was reaching breaking point. "How could they know Bryan was my brother and for the matter what the bloody hell are they? The amount of bullets Miranda put into them should have brought down bloody Godzilla! How could they still be standing?"
Having no idea who this 'Godzilla' was, Elladan chose to answer Frank's vehemence with the truth since the situation now made it unavoidable. If Frank was to have any hope of retrieving his children from the hands of the Ring wraiths, he would have to be initiated into the world that Bryan was now apart of. Glancing at Elrohir, who nodded at his agreement for Elladan to answer truthfully, Elladan drew a deep breath and responded.
"They are called the Nazgul."
The room felt deathly silent as all eyes fixed upon him.
"You know what they are?" Eric burst out, feeling some measure of triumph in knowing that he was right about these strangers, that they would have the answers to the questions that had plagued him since Iceland.
"We are familiar with them," the elf answered with no small measure of bitterness in his voice. "The reason Miranda could not kill them Frank is because they are already dead. They may have shape and move about in this world but they do not live in any manner that can be consider life. Fire can hurt them but little else will. So long as their master exists shall they walk the earth, that much is immutable."
Silence followed since no one had expected such an answer. Elladan could see doubt in all their eyes even after what they had seen. It was one thing to see a creature being harmed grievously without dying but another thing entirely to be told that it was something that could not be killed at all.
It was Frank who surmounted this hurdle to ask the obvious question.
"Who is their master?"
"We know him as Sauron, the dark enemy," Elladan answered, certain that this further information would be viewed with similar skepticism but these were the only answers he had. "In your world he was called David Saeran."
"David Saeran," Eric gasped recognizing the name instantly, "the CEO of Malcolm Industries?"
"Yes," Elrohir replied remembering the details of the affair that had brought Bryan, Tori and the Ringbearer to Valinor. "I believe that is what his empire here is called."
"What do they want with Bryan?" Frank asked impatiently, wanting to know why before he focussed his thoughts on the who.
"Six months ago, Sauron attempted to bring about the total destruction of your world. His agents had seized control of great weapons that would have reduced everything to a fiery cinder. Your brother and his companions stopped this catastrophe from taking place and took Sauron across the sea to our land, where he could be imprisoned beyond the reach of his servants. Without him, the Nazgul are lost and they seek desperately any means to retrieve him. I believe they took Sam and Pip because they think you are able to reach your brother."
"We're talking about the David Saeran?" Jason continued, still unable to accept that the Richard Branson like tycoon who had graced so many magazine covers was the megalomaniac villain Elladan describing. "The guy's the rock star of millionaires!"
Eric did not comment because he was too busy thinking about what he knew of David Saeran. Much of what Elladan was claiming seemed impossible. However, some facts were undeniable. Six months ago, there had been a fire at David Saeran's Romanian estate and while the company's PR people moved quickly to announce that he had uninjured in the disaster, Saeran had not made a public appearance since. His absence was explained as being the result of some minor injuries sustained during the fire that required his convalescence on a private estate somewhere in Germany.
If Elladan was right and David Saeran was this Sauron that he described, then it made perfect sense why the company would try to conceal the status of its CEO. Malcolm Industries unlike most companies did not operate with a board of directors having equal say in how the corporation should be run. The function of the board in this case was only as silent partner, since David Saeran and John Malcolm before him had controlling interest.
The company was built on the fortune of the Malcolm family, having been whittled down through the years to its sole beneficiary, David Saeran. Its supremacy on the stock market had almost entirely to do with the men who sat in charge of the company and Saeran had generated a great deal of enthusiasm when he had taken over the reins. Perhaps maintaining the illusion that he was still in charge was the company's way of ensuring its marketplace integrity.
God in heaven, this insanity was starting to make sense to him. He thought of everything that had been said inside the laboratory after these Nazgul had laid eyes on Frank. The leader had ordered the rest of them killed because Frank had suddenly become the greater prize. He had not understood the reasoning behind it then but after what Elladan had claimed about their desperate need to retrieve their master, it was logical. They did not need anyone else if they had Frank.
Eric's eyes shifted involuntarily to Miranda and felt genuine sorrow to see her so anguished. For some reason, he wanted to comfort her. Seeing her so defeated after she had saved all their lives affected him deeply and Eric could not understand it. It was not as if he was attracted to her. He wasn't and that surprised him even more because in light of his empathy for her. Eric wanted to go to her side, to hold her and tell her that it would be okay, that they would find her children. He wanted to offer his shoulder even if it meant having her husband flatten him for being so forward. He just could not stomach seeing her so wounded.
"Can you get in touch with your brother?" Eric opted for the safer course by asking Frank sympathetically.
"No," Frank shook his head, "I don't even know where he is." As he said it however, his eyes shifted towards Elladan and Elrohir in an accusatory glance.
"Even if you did, it would avail you nothing," Elladan answered not unkindly.
"What does that mean?" Frank bit back, tired of all these cryptic answers. Bryan never intended Sam or Pip to be used as a bargaining tools for information and if his brother were here, Frank had no doubt that he would do everything possible to get his nephews back.
Elladan took no offense at Frank's tone, understanding what compelled him to speak so tersely. Parents were seldom rational when their children were in danger and the twins had seen how devoted Frank and Miranda had been to their own. Elladan knew that he would have to tell Frank the whole truth despite how unbelievable it might be for the human to accept it. If Frank and Miranda wished to retrieve their children from the Nazgul, they would have no choice but to hear the tale of the past even if it went against everything that either of them thought they knew about their world.
"You asked where we come from and we would not tell you," Elladan said to Frank gently, "it is not because we wish to keep secrets from you but because we wish to protect ourselves. We are not one of you."
"Not one of us?" Frank stared at him, clearly perplexed. "In what way?"
Elrohir glanced at his brother, agreeing with him in silence at what had to be done next. Exposing themselves this way was never their intention but if Frank was to hear the truth, he would need proof. A mind such as his could not accept what he was told on face value alone. He had to shown something irrefutable.
"In the way that we are not human," Elladan answered brushing his hair back and exposing the ears that both he and Elrohir had kept concealed with almost religious devotion, "we are elves."
The room fell into stunned silence. Miranda was not so lost in grief over the abduction of her two children that she was prevented from showing her astonishment. Frank stared at the appendages with fascination. His scientist's mind already producing all the logical possibilities that could explain those particular deformities in humans while Eric and Jason were of the belief that nothing they were being told should be surprising after what they had seen.
To Eric, it was so ridiculously simple. Of course, they were not men.
He would have balked at the suggestion if he had not remembered the helm that had saved their lives and what Petra Tebben had said about it before her unfortunate death. She had alleged that the helmet had been made for a species other than man. At the time, it seemed impossible to him, almost science fiction but now they were confronted with two men who looked human as any other, except for the ears and a luminous quality the journalist could not put his finger on. Eric had made a career out of playing hunches and though he usually found proof to back up his suppositions, this time there was none to be found and he was forced to rely on faith alone.
His instincts told him that these men, no he corrected himself, these elves were telling the truth. And if it was indeed as they said about the enemy then perhaps they could answer him one further question.
"It called us the children of the Riddermark," Eric found himself asking, breaking the silence at last. "Why?"
Elrohir turned his attention to the man whose identity he had discerned earlier before glancing at Miranda briefly before meeting Eric's gaze again, "because that is who you were. You were in a life before this one, Eomer Eadig, King of Rohan or as it was known to the people of that land, the Riddermark. Miranda was your sister, Eowyn, who in later ages was known as the Shield Maiden of Rohan who fought at the Battle of Pelennor Fields and slew the Witch King of Angmar, the head of Sauron's Nazgul. You Jason, you were at her side when she killed him. You struck the enemy and distracted him long enough for her to strike the killing blow."
"That is why he hates you," Elorhir looked at Miranda faced showed nothing but astonishment at Elladan's statement. "You cut him down at the height of his power, when he was at his absolute strongest. Now that he has found you, he will want his retribution."
"This is impossible," Frank exclaimed after this revelation. "You cannot be serious."
"Frank," Elladan stepped closer to him," you may not accept what we have said but know that it is the truth. Just as it is the truth that you were once Faramir of Gondor, Prince of Ithilien, you must hear me and understand. I told your son a story a number of nights ago, about a great quest involving a ring. That ring belonged to Sauron and it was the Nine who hunted the Ringbearers during their quest. Your brother found one of these Ringbearers born again in the form of a girl child, whom he now raises and protects in our lands. You, however are raising the other."
"Sam," Miranda stood up and exclaimed, remembering those dark dreams that had filled her son's nights. The ones she had convinced him were not real. "Sam is one of the Ringbearers."
"Yes," Elladan nodded, "and the Nine will know him by sight just as we did. They may be willing to release Pip for your cooperation but you will never get Sam back. They will keep him for their master."
"Why?" Frank asked, horrified by the notion even if he could not accept Elladan's words.
"For vengeance, Frank," Elladan said grimly. "To make him pay for destroying the One Ring."
***********
It took almost an hour before Elladan paused in his accounting of the past to his companions. Considering that his tale comprised an outline of Middle earth's history, the War of the Ring, the nature of elves and the dark lord Sauron, the elf thought he had done quite well to keep his explanation as short as he had. The only voice that spoke in all that time other than his own was Elrohir's, who interjected whenever there was some point that Elladan should have made clearer. However, other than that, his audience remained in muted silence. He could not blame him for their difficulty in accepting everything that he had revealed to them because it required a belief in things so removed from what they knew as fact; it must seem like fiction. However, Elladan and Elrohir were proof enough that these things were real because these were the times in which they had lived.
It was Frank who would have greatest difficulty in accepting. His life had been dedicated to the study of the human past. It was more than just his vocation but rather his faith and that faith was shaken to the core because everything he thought he knew about the race of men was quite simply wrong. The bones that he studied in such great detail were clearly the bones of orcs and other goblin creatures left behind because those creatures had no reverence for the dead and did not inter their fallen like the other races. The middens that made up the bulk of archaeological theory were orc tools, lacking in finesse and grandeur. During the days before the situation they were now embroiled, the twins had studied the books Frank used in his work and the illustrations they had seen were clear to them, even if they were the cause of much study and supposition by the scholars of this world.
Miranda on the other hand, was easier to convince because she had faced the beast and had seen his true face during their battle. Even if she had difficulty believing everything Elladan had said, she was prepared to shunt aside her skepticism for her children's sake. The other two men were trapped in a similar limbo of uncertainty. Their eyes had proved something of what they had been told but there was still doubt in their eyes. Elladan sensed it had more to do with the fear of having their safe existence challenged by such unworldly things rather than the belief of its impossibility.
"I can't accept this," Frank spoke after long last and not unsurprisingly.
"It is the truth," Elrohir returned. "Your brother found it just as difficult to believe but in the end he had no choice. For the fate of the world, he had to believe."
"You are asking me to set aside everything I know," Frank met their gaze, "everything that I hold sacred. How can you expect me to do that?"
"Because it is how it happened," the elf declared.
"You're a journalist Eric," Frank turned to the news reporter desperate for support, "surely you can believe it?"
"I don't know what to believe," Eric shrugged, unable to deny that he found the elves' claim wholly incredible. However, everything that he had seen sine Hofskojull convinced him that they were embroiled in matters that could not be dismissed despite their notions of reality. The Nazgul were real and they were supernatural creatures. If they were real then perhaps the rest of it was as well. "I know what I've seen and what I've seen says we can't dismiss what they're saying entirely."
"Frank it doesn't matter," Miranda made herself heard for the first time. She rose from the sofa and went to her husband who had been pacing the floor during Elladan and Elrohir's narration. Reaching for him, she took his face in her hand and said softly, "It doesn't matter what is the truth. Maybe it is and maybe it is not, perhaps we will never know for certain. What does matter is Sam and Pip. Whatever our personal beliefs are regarding what they've told us, we have to trust them to know how to get our boys back. Nothing else matters Frank."
Frank stared into the depths of her blue eyes, eyes he found it so easily to become lost in. From the first moment he had laid eyes upon her, his heart had leapt out of his chest and his breath still caught whenever she walked into the room. If anything could convince him that what Elladan and Elrohir were claiming, it was knowing that she was his wife in that other life as well. The first time he had seen her, it had felt so right because he had felt so complete. Was the feeling generated by the subconscious recognition that she had been his once before? He loved her more than his life, more than his ability to articulate. The power of her over his heart was all encompassing, not just for her but the tremendous gift she had brought into his life in the way of Sam and Pip.
She was right. Whether or not Elladan and Elrohir were telling him the truth, that everything he knew about the past was false, all of it was a secondary concern in comparison to the welfare of their children.
"Yes," he nodded slowly, "you're right. It doesn't."
She smiled at him, a radiant smile even if it was tempered with thinly concealed fear for her children and Frank knew that he would believe anything for her. They held each other for a moment, ignoring the fact that they were not alone, exchanging a soft kiss and an understanding that no matter where the road led from here, they would travel it together and they would find Sam and Pip at the end of it.
"These Nazgul," Miranda addressed Elladan once she had pulled away from Frank. "You said that I killed one of them. How did I do that if they are supposed to be invulnerable?"
"Fire gives them fear," Elladan answered quickly, grateful that Miranda had succeeded in pacifying Frank for now. "However, weapons that are elven blessed can harm them considerably, if not permanently."
"Like this thing?" Jason suddenly spoke up, producing the helmet that Eric had given to him for safekeeping inside the knapsack. At the time of their escape from the faculty lab, Eric had known nothing about their new companions and it seemed prudent to conceal the artifacts until they knew for certain if these people could be trusted. While Jason had as much trouble believing that he was once a creature called a hobbit as the next person, he knew undeniably was the 'shield bitch' the creature had referred was indeed this blond woman who could fight like the devil. These 'Nagzul' did exist and they were not human. That fact Jason had accepted long before Elladan and Elrohir had given them names.
"When I hit that Nazgul with it, it hurt him." Miranda offered. "Bullets did nothing but this caused the bastard pain."
"Brother," Elladan called his sibling closer as he held the thing in his hands. "Do my eyes fail me or is this dwarf craft?"
"Dwarf craft?" Jason gaped, not expecting these two men to be so laden with answers, even if they were elves and not two delusional men with strange ears.
"Yes," Elladan said offhandedly as his brother came to join him in the scrutiny of helm. "They were great craftsmen. The size of the helmet tells me that this is one of theirs. For their short stature, their physical bodies were built for endurance. It is said that when Aule created them, he wanted to create a hardy race. Though they were small, they were stout with a good deal of physical strength and capable of withstanding attack because of their formidable musculature."
"They probably had thicker bones," Frank found himself interjecting, wondering if he was insane for even hypothesizing about this. "It would explain the slightly larger skull, it probably was not so much bigger as it was thicker."
"The dwarves we knew were certainly were resilient," Elrohir added. "Gimli lived 250 years and was very fearsome in battle."
"Dwarves?" Eric raised a brow, unable to think of dwarves as any more than the tiny people whom appeared in circuses. "We're talking about the guys who followed Snow White around?"
"Probably not," Jason rolled his eyes.
"He was one of the Fellowship," Elrohir replied, glancing at Jason.
"So how come he isn't reincarnated like the rest of us?" Jason asked, feeling stupid for even asking such an absurd question. It was so hard to swallow this possibility that he had lived a life before this one and knew a dwarf named Gimli and was called Merry. A male with a name like that could not possibly survive adolescence without enduring extreme embarrassment.
"Oh he is a dwarf," the elf explained, aware of the skepticism that their tales of Middle earth was being viewed but was ignoring it because he knew that these were true things he had told them and their belief would come eventually, even if they were cynical now. "Aule's children do not go to the same place as men nor they are not immortal like elves. It is said that they are returned to the earth in death, to await until the end of all things. When the new world is created, Aule will awaken them to help with it's rebuilding."
"Brother, do you know what this is?" Elladan exclaimed excitedly as his fingers traced the faint outline of the engraving emblazoned across the front of the helmet. Elven fingers, with its heightened tactile prowess, followed the path of grooves etched in the tarnished metal. In his mind's eye, an image was taking shape and it was one that he had seen in the books of his father's library. Elladan had studied almost every one of those books during the past one hundred thousand years and was able to recognize the image forming in his mind.
"You know what it is?" Eric asked, sitting up.
"I have seen only pictures of it," Elladan mused, "I cannot believe that it has survived to this day and age."
"What is it?" Elrohir questioned, never having that much patience with books much to his father chagrin and not as versed in lore as his twin.
"I believe it is the Dragon Helm, crafted by the dwarfs of Belegost in the First Age," he answered, his voiced filled with awe as he explained the origin of the helm. "It is the one the dwarf king Azaghal made gift to Maedhros."
"Maedhros?" Eric exclaimed, recognizing the name much to the surprise of the two elves.
"You know of Maedhros?" Elladan exchanged a skeptical look with his brother at how Eric would come by this information.
All eyes turned to the newsman who was exchanging anxious glances with Jason.
"Maedhros was the name of the project in Iceland," Eric explained because the mention of Maedhros was an important revelation. "These Nazgul murdered an archaeology team after they recovered that object and another artifact that had been buried in the ice for a hundred and fifty thousand years. I read the file on the expedition before I arrived in Iceland and Petra Tebben's notes indicate that John Malcolm himself named the project, Maedhros. What does it mean?"
"Maedhros was the son of Feanor, he aided Azaghal during his ambush by orcs on the Dwarf Road. In gratitude for saving his life, Azaghal gave Maedhros this helm. It was worn to fight dragons. I believe Maedhros in turn returned it to Fingon who eventually passed it to the house of Hador. Turin wore this into battle against Glaurung the dragon."
"Dragons?" Frank exclaimed, feeling even more out of depth now.
"Malcolm was the name of Morgoth in this world," Elladan explained, "before he was vanquished by the Valar thanks to Aaron Stone's effort."
Eric absorbed this and took into account the catastrophic destruction of the Malcolm Building, an act of terrorism no organization had laid claim to. He remembered attempting to cover the story in the media frenzy that followed and the underlying feeling that soon developed among all the journalists was that nothing about this incident was the norm for such acts of terrorism. No declaration was ever made by any organization claiming responsibility and despite the efforts of law enforcement to produce a suspect, there were still no clues as to who might have done the deed almost two years after the fact. If what Elladan had told them about the Valar was true, then it made sense why the destruction of the Malcolm Building was such a mystery.
"Jason," Eric said not looking at the younger man when he spoke, "show it to them."
Jason was a little apprehensive about revealing the artifact. He had developed a somewhat proprietary feel for it since it had come into his possession and was reluctant to let it out of his sight, even among people who had shown themselves to be allies.
"What artifact?" Miranda asked, puzzled.
"It's why they came to see Hans and why the Nazgul found us," Frank answered. They had been so busy listening to the history of Middle earth and their past incarnations that there was little opportunity to reveal how Eric and Jason had come into their company. "We were examining these artifacts that they brought us when the Nazgul came and killed Hans."
Mention of Hans' name brought produced another surge of grief for the old man who had been his friend and mentor. Frank did not think he would ever be able to erase the memory of seeing Han's neck snapped like kindling by the monstrous creature that took his life without hesitation. Hans had died, never knowing what had killed him or why his life was suddenly forfeit. For one who had spent his entire life uncovering the truth, this seemed profane to Frank. He swallowed away the pain because answers were needed if more deaths were to be prevented and he did not even want to consider what this meant for his sons.
"What is this artifact?" Elladan finally asked.
Jason produced the fossilized jewel that had begun this entire affair for him and Eric in the first place. Still half-encased in rock, the dark jewel held no recognition for Elladan and Elrohir as the human removed it from the knapsack and came toward the brothers.
"Be careful," Jason replied as he handed it to Elladan, "I don't know why but it burns if you touch the crystal."
"Burns?" Elladan said puzzled as the object was placed in his hand.
He barely had time to register what it was when suddenly the crystal in his hand came alive with a blinding white light that surged out from his palm in an expanding ball of energy. In seconds, everything in the room was obscured by the power of the brilliant flare and before his eyes were completely overloaded with this enveloping illumination, he saw the husk surrounding the crystal crumble away like dust. Elladan was forced to close his eyes as he felt warmth it generated against his skin but it was a far cry from the burning that Jason had described. If anything, the heat reminded Elladan of the warmth one would feel on a summer's day. Through the haze of white light, he heard glass shattering and screams that sounded farther away from the room.
Eric tried to turn away but the powerful radiance had already overtaken the room and soon surged beyond the house in an expanding wave of brilliance that made everything else vanish. For a minute, he thought absurdly that they were caught at ground zero of a nuclear flash. Even though he could not see it, he heard the others crying out, demanding to know what was happening. He could not longer see Elladan or anything else for that matter, just the incredible brightness radiating from the artifact. The television set came to life briefly and then shattered; the screen exploded sending glass shards in all directions. Inside the kitchen, he could hear other appliances similarly awakened before the outpouring energy became more than their fuses could cope with and they came to an abrupt halt with a sputter of electricity and sparks. Alarms screeched and were suddenly silenced. He was certain he could hear the microwave making a similar death knell before it exploded.
While Eric and his companions attempted to understand the catastrophe-taking place around them, the energy wave continued its outward journey. Leaving behind the boundaries of the Miller household, the artifact, long buried beneath the ice for a hundred millennia, unleashed its pent up energy upon finding its way at last into the hands of an immortal who was pure of heart. The life contained inside its facets had craved for awakening for so long and now that the moment was upon it, the euphoria of its joy swept forward in an expanding wave.
Its awakening was felt everywhere. In city of Oslo, in the modern age of Arda, the power of the artifact destroyed every electrical component in its path. From complex machinery to simple appliances, all were inflicted with the same malaise as fuses were overloaded and were then completely destroyed. Cars came to a grinding halt as their electrical circuitry was instantly destroyed. The streets became chaos as vehicles smashed into one other from on the road. Traffic lights ceased to offer direction, creating more confusion and more accidents. In buildings, lifts stopped moving and were frozen in place as back up systems quickly took up the task to prevent tragedy. Computer terminals switched off suddenly; losing valuable information and factories became silent with inactivity. Houses and streets became black with darkness as light bulbs and fuses boxes were destroyed.
In the air, airplanes close enough to the city were forced to land. Airport officials frantically attempting to direct the planes suddenly robbed of intricate guidance equipment. Power lines snapped, sparks bouncing off its severed cables, taking with it telephone lines that effectively cut off communication as well as power. As Oslo was plunged into further havoc, the inner fire of the jewel continued its jubilant awakening, spreading into the rest of the country and towards the sea, wreaking unintentional destruction in its joyful celebration.
The Nazgul who were presently returning to their master's woman, screamed in pain as the outpouring from the jewel tore through their bodies. As things of darkness, they had great reason to fear jewel and now as it wracked through their shadowy forms, they suffered great agony as the wave swept past them. Though they were not killed, they did endure pain much to the confusion of the two children whom they had abducted. Unfortunately, by then they were already in the company of their minions and the momentary distraction of pain did not interfere in their plans.
In the world beyond Arda, Earendil the Mariner felt his heart quicken and the light of the jewel fastened against his brow seemed to glow even brighter than ever. The evening star for an instant became as a dawn's light for the jewel recognized the awakening of another that was long given up for lost. Through the boundary between worlds, between the heavens and the earth, the power of the artifact was like a beacon in a black night devoid of stars. Even Varda felt its power and a smile returned to her lips for it was as if one of her children had been born her and she prayed within the halls of Valimar, that it would find its way to her once more.
And in the halls of Mandos, the sleeping mind of a dark god stirred in secret.
**************
"What is God's name was that?" Frank cried out when he was able to see again and found Elladan kneeling on the floor, staring at the artifact reverently. Around him, the others were recovering from the overload to their optical receptors, blinking feverishly as they tried to gain focus. Frank made his way to Miranda and touched her arm, a silent gesture to inquire if she was hurt. His wife nodded slightly indicating her well being before they both turned to Elladan who had begun to speak.
"Sweet Eru," the elf declared with tears glistening in his eyes as he cradled the artifact in his hand as if it were the most precious thing in the world. Frank had become accustomed to their aloof manner during the past few days and found it quite disconcerting to see them both so emotionally wrought.
"I cannot believe it," Elrohir spoke, his voice hushed with awe, his eyes similarly moist. "In our lifetime, I did not expect to see this again."
"I never thought I would hold it," his brother swallowed thickly, baffling the humans before him. The jewel was no longer crimson as it had been when it was partially encased in fossilized rock. Now, it glowed like a diamond, breathtakingly beautiful, capturing the light in all its facets. The brilliance that had wrought so much destruction had receded into a radiant sparkle that gleamed magnificently in Elladan's palm.
"What the bloody hell is it?" Eric demanded, still shell shocked by what happened. His mind was trying to wrap itself around the fact they were still alive after that spectacular display of power. Looking around him, Eric saw the faces of digital clocks on the VCR, the table clock and even his watch were dead to say nothing about all the electronic devices that no longer functioned. The floor in front of the television set was covered in glass. Although Eric was certain it would take the next year for the spots in front of his eyes to completely disappear, he knew that the damage in this house was minor in comparison to the destruction that was caused beyond it. He knew that nuclear devices detonated in the upper atmosphere could cause what was called an electromagnetic pulse or EMP that had the power to destroy everything with an integrated circuit.
What had happened here was not that dissimilar.
"It is a Silmaril," Elladan answered breathlessly, "The jewels crafted by Feanor himself. The inner fire within it comes from the great Trees of Valinor, Telperion and Laurelin. It has been lost since the end of the First Age, we had never thought to see it again. Where did you find this?"
"In Iceland," Jason answered, feeling a sense of pride in knowing that he was right about the artifact, that he was justified in keeping it from the hands of the enemy. However, even he had not suspected that the jewel was capable of wreaking such havoc. "It was buried deep under the ice. If what you say about the shape of continents changing, Iceland would have been attached to Europe a long time ago."
"Maedhros was said to have plunged it into a fiery chasm along with himself," Elrohir stared at his brother for confirmation because it was Elladan who was the scholar between them.
"Yes," Elladan nodded, "we thought this destroyed."
"It was found less than a month ago," Eric explained. "The archaeologists who uncovered it paid for it with their lives. That's why the Nazgul were there. They were after this all along. I thought it was just to keep us quiet about what they had done but they wanted the artifact."
"As creatures of darkness, they will be able to sense this. We cannot remain here any longer. Where this goes, they will be able to follow to some extent. Once they know where you are, they only have to be in the vicinity to track you." Elrohir explained.
"Why couldn't I touch it?" Frank asked, remembering the pain he felt when he had attempted to handle the object and was rather confused that Elladan was cradling in its hand with no ill effects.
"You are mortal and I am not," Elladan answered, understanding Frank's confusion. "The Silmaril can only be handled by an immortal that is pure of heart. It will not allow itself to be ferried about by agents of evil. No doubt when this was awakened, the Nazgul would have felt it wherever they were. You used this against them during our battle earlier, did you not?" Elladan asked Jason.
"I used it to burn one of them," Jason answered, sweeping his gaze across the faces of his human companions and realizing that if there had been any doubt regarding Elladan and Elrohir's accounting of things, what had transpired a moment ago had surely confirmed it irrevocably. "They have been hunting us all across Europe to find that. Why would they want it if they can't even touch it?"
"I do not know," Elladan answered, "but now that they know that Frank is here as well as the Silmaril, they will be back."
"No they won't," Frank said quietly, staring at Miranda because he had been thinking about their situation deeply since the light had faded from his eyes. As much as Frank wanted to deny everything that Elladan had revealed to him about Middle earth, elves and the dark lord Sauron, he could not longer continue to remain skeptical after what he had seen. His faith in everything he knew was shaken to the core but Frank refused to let its deconstruction affect him because he needed his faculties intact if he and Miranda were going to get Sam and Pip back alive.
"How can you be certain of this?" Elrohir stared at him.
"They have our children," Miranda answered before Frank could. "They know that we will not go anywhere as long as they have Sam and Pip. In fact, they know that we will be waiting to hear their terms and I'm pretty bloody sure it will involve that rock."
"For what possible reason could they wish to gain possession of it?" Elladan reiterated Jason's earlier question because he was just as puzzled as the humans. When it was in Arda, the only evil who could wield the Silmarils had been Morgoth and that was because he had been one of the Ainur, fallen perhaps but nonetheless one of Eru's children. Not even Sauron could take up the Silmaril without it causing him great pain to say nothing of how it had affected the Nazgul.
"Maybe they want to use to get this Sauron person back," Eric offered.
"I cannot imagine how it could be done," Elrohir replied. "The Nazgul cannot go to Valinor to make such a demand. Even if they were foolish enough to make the attempt, the Valar would destroy them before they even reached its shores and the Silmaril would be reclaimed. It would avail them nothing."
Frank's mind was racing as pieces of the mosaic fell into place. Now he understood why the Nazgul had wanted him alive while ordering others killed. He was their only link to Bryan who now in Valinor. If they believed he knew where Bryan was, they might also think he knew how to reach his brother in the Undying Lands. If that was the case, which Frank certain it was, then he would be their messenger to the Valar.
"They need me to do it," Frank declared to no one in particular. "That's why they took Sam and Pip. They want me to go to Valinor to offer the artifact to your Valar in exchange for their master."
***************
Beyond the walls of the house, everything was bathed in darkness.
As the sun set distantly in the horizon, the curtain of night seemed even more enveloping in the blackness that followed. The stars glimmered across the sky but not even their radiance could replace the lights that had been extinguished in the wake of the Simaril's sudden awakening. The wave of energy had dissipated harmlessly now but that did not alter the fact that the city was in deep crisis. The loss of electricity had not only plunged the city into a major blackout but the initial overload had caused electrical systems everywhere to burst into flame, causing fires throughout the city. Under normal circumstances, these were easily containable, however the wave had damaged vehicles as well and fire engines that should be rushing to combat the problem were now trapped in their stations, unable to move.
Miranda could see the amber glow of fires illuminating the night sky, not only on the campus but throughout the City Centre skyline. The air was filled with voices of panicked and frightened people, some calling for help, and some searching for loved ones while others offered assistance. They had left the house because despite Frank's suppositions that the Nazgul would take their time in acting, now that they had Pip and Sam, it was safer that they not be where the enemy could find them. It was Eric who suggested they tried to rethink their situation in safer surroundings but as Miranda allowed her gaze to sweep across the street, taking in the sight of all the destruction, she wondered if such a place existed tonight.
"It's a bloody war zone," Miranda declared as they reached the street and saw the carnage in metal that had been created when the wave had destroyed the internal circuitry of all vehicles on the road, not to mention the havoc played with the traffic lights. The wreckage of steel was seen at intersections where collisions had resulted; it was evident in the shattered glass windows of ruined shop fronts and by the jet of water, surging into the air where a hydrant had been ripped from its place on the concrete pavement. The sound of chaos became so loud that it was hard to endure the knowledge that they had been the indirect cause of it.
"I had not believe the Silmaril was capable of this," Elladan remarked as his elven eyes was able to take better stock of the damage in the darkness and through the intermittent radiance of fires in some places.
"You probably didn't have electricity back then," Jason replied, trying not to be affected by what they were seeing. After travelling to some of the most morally bereft places in the world where the slaughter of humankind was practiced to almost expert precision, he still was not as desensitized as he ought to be. "When all that power escaped, it probably fried every circuit in the city. A similar thing happened a few years ago in Canada except then it was a solar flare."
"Well I hope that's what they think this is," Eric declared, fearing the repercussions once the authorities had time to think about what had caused the blackout.
"Not likely," Frank said sourly. "There is more than an enough instrumentation to predict with some measure of accuracy when that phenomenon occurs. Something this big would have given itself away long before it was able to just turn up and surprise everyone. After Canada, the threat was considered large enough to warrant the funding into research."
His attention was drawn away from the conversation by the sight of a woman trying to free her child from an upturned car. Without hesitation, Frank broke away from the group and went to help her feeling the need to be able to help one child after failing his own. Fortunately, it did not take much exertion and the child was soon free to return to his mother's grateful embrace. Once he was certain that they were all right, he hurried back to the others.
"We have to help these people," Frank looked around, torn between the guilt of what had transpired and his need to find Sam and Pip as soon as possible.
"Its a nice idea but I think we should keep moving," Eric retorted, keeping his eyes fixed on the road ahead instead of the wreckage around them. "We don't know how widespread the damage is and it won't take the authorities long to pinpoint where that blast came from. If they find us, we're going to have to face a lot of questions we can't answer, not unless we want to see the inside of a padded room."
"He's right," Miranda found herself agreeing even though she was no happier than Frank about ignoring the people in need around her. "At best, they'll lock us up in a padded room," she retorted giving Eric a look, "at worst, they're going to want to know what caused the surge and something that small generating that much power, is going to attract interest. If anyone finds out what that is," she glanced at Elladan who was now keeping the Silmaril in his possession, "it won't be just Malcolm Industries and the bloody Nazgul that will be after us. We're going to have a visit from the military."
"The military?" Elrohir stared at her in confusion. "For what possible purpose?"
"The purpose at which human kind excels better than any other living thing on this planet, elf or dwarf," Eric retorted cynically, "a more efficient way of killing one other."
"So where are we going?" Jason asked, noticing Frank was striding ahead as if he had a destination in mind, unlike the rest of them who were wandering through the streets like shell shocked refugees.
"Han's house," Frank said somberly.
"Hans?" Elladan inquired.
"The old man who was killed," Jason explained quietly.
"Are you sure about this?" Eric stared at the archaeologist questioningly, uncertain whether invading the home of a dead man was the wisest course of action.
"Hans didn't have any family," Frank replied. "Judging by the state of the city as this time, it will be a while before the authorities have the opportunity to identify his remains from what's left of the faculty building. Hans has a place outside town, it will be empty for awhile. We need a place to hide, a place to think about what we're going to do."
"What we're going to do is get Sam and Pip back," Miranda said sharply, her tone indicating that she would take offense with anyone who felt differently.
"Yes, we are" Frank returned, his own anger accumulating with each step he took through the city. His life had suddenly been turned upside down, on every level. From the physical danger, to the loss of his children and the obliteration of everything he thought he knew of the world, even Frank's deep sense of calm had its limits. He had been remaining strong for Miranda but his wife was riding a wave of aggression he could not control and frankly, had no desire to try. "However, we have no idea where they took the boys and if we don't think of way around those Nazgul, they'll be killed before we reach them."
Miranda fell silent, recognizing the tone of her husband's voice and sensing that if she were to press the issue, they would all be treated to a surge of temper that might rival the explosion of energy that had escaped the artifact earlier. It took quite a bit for Frank's temper to be ignited and she was being selfish if she thought that she was the only one who was wracked with worry about Sam and Pip. They were his children as much as hers and throughout the day, he had been there for her, providing her with the comfort of his strength. It was time Miranda returned the favor. Besides, as much as he might sometimes appear to be the bumbling academic, Miranda was perfectly aware of his powerful intellect and he was right in saying they needed a plan.
"They couldn't have gotten far," Eric offered, seeing the rising tensions between husband and wife. Understandable, considering the emotional strain that they were both under. He did not know if he could believe that Miranda was once his sister or that he was even this Eomer, that Elladan and Elrohir were convinced he was. He did not feel like a king but looking at Miranda, her face full of determination, personifying beauty and strength all at once, he had to admit he rather liked the idea of being a brother.
"They had an hour," Miranda met his gaze, "they could have been anywhere by the time the wave hit."
Eric saw how hard it was for her to keep her emotions under control. In some ways, she was terribly female but he had sensed was power in her that was similar to the most battle hardened soldiers he had ever encountered. She was no mere housewife. That was for certain. No housewife he ever met was capable of fighting the way she did when she came to their rescue. She may have claimed to be nothing more than a wife and mother these days but Eric was convinced that there was a time when she was something more. The way she fought the Nazgul indicated some kind of military background. He had seen her fight and her technique was not to disable or to defend, it was to kill.
"I think we should find out whether Malcolm Industries has an office here in Oslo," Eric suggested. "Chances are, they would have headed there first."
"Could they still be there?" Elladan asked, totally out of his depth in this conversation. Fortunately, it appeared that Eomer's incarnation was a man of some knowledge that would prove useful in the quest that lay ahead.
"It's possible," Eric replied, thinking about the possibility with more scrutiny. "I doubt they could have boarded a plane out of Oslo before the blast and after it, nothing was going to be capable of taking off."
"They would not squander their advantage by remaining in place," Elrohir remarked. Perhaps he did not know the Nazgul as well as he had in the past, however, the older son of Elrond Peredhil was convinced that the enemy would spirit the children beyond the reach of their determined parents. Sam and Pip were the only means the Nazgul had to guarantee Frank's cooperation. So long as the children were in their power, they could bend the father to their dark will. "Even if they are limited by the modern methods of travel, they will be on the move."
"I have to agree with him," Jason added. "They can ride horses and there's a lot of this country that's still undeveloped land."
"What do you know about the company?" Frank asked suddenly.
"Malcolm Industries?" Eric's brow rose at the question. "Only what the PR people release. Successful conglomerate with interests in everything from oil to software. They're a billion dollar corporation."
Frank considered this information as he kept his eyes upon the darkened road ahead. There was no fear of being run over by a car since it was virtually impossible that any were still capable of mobility within the city. "Billion dollar corporations don't run themselves," Frank declared after a moment. "If the story about David Saeran recuperating in Germany is a lie and he is in fact this Sauron who is presently in Valinor, then someone else has to be in charge."
He was right, Eric thought, impressed by the acumen behind that deduction. "I guess so. However, it's a leap assuming that they might know about the Nazgul."
"You said you were in a hotel in Iceland when the Nazgul tracked you down," Frank reminded. "They couldn't have done that without the resources of the company since I somehow doubt these things are capable of making flight reservations or tracking down cell phone signals. We have to assume that there is someone behind the scenes clearing their way. I think if we find that someone, we'll find Sam and Pip."
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