Chapter Thirteen
There was a flash of light just then, as they were staring at the Ring. It was like Gandalf had just lit the tip of his staff, blinding them. The Doctor, fell from his bed to the floor, gasping as the cold stone brushed his flesh. He heaved himself to his feet, grabbed his jacket from the chair and fumbled for his Screwdriver. Upon finding it, he directed it at the light source and hit the button. The green light flared up and its familiar buzzing sound filled the air. After a moment, he flicked it open, increasing its power until the light flared brighter and disappeared. After their eyes had adjusted to the lack of light, they saw that the Ring had vanished.
"Short range temporal teleport," said the Doctor. "There were traces of Artron Energy in there. The Master must have used the TARDIS." His voice was, for the first time since he'd regenerated into his eleventh form, wavering, betraying his fear. River glanced at his face, worry etched on her own. Gandalf and Aragorn were deep in conversation across the room, deliberately avoiding catching the Doctor's eye. In response he straightened up, smoothed out his bowtie and walked to the door. It was time to get changed.
The Master stood atop Orthanc in Isengard, the TARDIS billowing smoke behind him. His attention however was not on the time machine but on the grounds below him. Fire blazed not far from the base of the tower; on closer inspection it could be seen that the fuel as it were, was still moving. The Ents of Fangorn Forest had paid a high price when they attempted to stop The Master. The silent screams of the forest's tree-herders could be felt in the acrid air, as they slowly, painfully died. He had arrived with the break off, allowing for total silence. Upon his arrival he had stepped from the box and spoken to the Ents, who had not realised he was there. He asked for their cooperation and, when Treebeard had denied him, spared them no mercy. He had simply slipped on a ring, and a ghastly transformation had taken place. His skin withered becoming like parchment wrapped round his seemingly brittle bones. His eyes had become at the same time almost too big for his face and too small, irises black with red flames flashing across their surface. His hair crawled its way down his forehead like a snake, covering his brow. The Ring glowed brightly and in his right hand he gripped a giant mace, so big it looked comical for such an emaciated figure to be holding it. He spoke in a garbled tongue that only Treebeard could recognise, old as it was.
"Lat narnûluba znûg-za." His voice was the worst part. It reverberated through the air, slicing into the Ents bark, causing physical wounds. Not only that but it caused vision in their minds, vision that turned their sap cold and drove more than a few mad. "I AM SAURON!"