Although the creature's blood burned a hole in the rug, it had not affected my elven blade. Still, I didn't want to press my luck, so I sprinkled baking soda on it and wiped it with a tattered piece of rug.

Rosie frowned. "That was such a nice rug."

"And Grifo was a nice Hobbit," Nob moaned.

I followed the trail of blood into the depths of Bag End, hitting my head twice as I had been far more focused on tracking down the little beast before it killed again.

"Fastolph Bolger is dead!" someone shouted.

I hurried faster, guarding my head with one hand.

The Hobbit hole had many rooms. I bumped into chairs in the dining room, following the blood to a cellar where a pair of Hobbits, old Gaffer Gamgee and Nibs, Rose's brother, stood staring at the bloody corpse of their grossly overweight friend.

"The snake just launched itself at him, boring right into his belly like it belonged there!" Nibs cried with disgust.

I knelt in front of the body. "Is it still in there?"

Both nodded slowly.

We wrapped the heavy body in a rug, lugging it out to the edge of town, and set it on fire, building a pyre on top of him in hopes of incinerating whatever little beast resided in there.

"We must give him his last rites," said Nibs.

The elderly Gamgee nodded.

I gave him the rite of Mandos.

When the rite ended, we added logs, staring morosely as the flames did their slow work on the poor slob's body.

All of a sudden, the snake burst from Fastolph's stomach.

Again, it spoke in the Black Speech: "Your time on Middle Earth is ended, wizard!"

I replied in the same tongue. "All things must end, including you." I drew my blade within seconds of the head appearing.

The blade caught the beast through the head, producing a spray of smoking acid, which melted the iron gauntlet I wore. I cried out in pain.

I shoved the blade in deeper, gritting my teeth as I wiggled it back and forth, shoving the creature in the flaming coals over and over until it moved no more.

Breathing a sigh of relief, I cleaned and sheathed my sword, applied vinegar and salves to my scalded sword hand.

"It's a shame," Nob said from behind me. "He was the best baker in town."

Indeed, he'd been one that crafted that delicious pumpkin cake I tried. Truly a shame.

"You said that thing had a house."

"Yes sir?"

I spun around to face him. "Correct me if I'm wrong, but I heard one mentioning there were giant bodies and eggs. In the plural."

"You are not wrong. That is what I told you."

I grabbed Nob by the shoulders, giving him such a wild gaze that I saw the color drain from his face. "Show me. We may already be too late!"

The shooting star had landed miles beyond the great mill, and the Sharkey's Shipping establishment. Our path took us around the haunted Sackville estate, and through a forest clad in winter garb.

Astride Shadowfax my white stallion, and Nob on his sluggish brown plug horse, we took a treacherous slanting trail, which curved around a hillside, then crossed a tall ridge, where, once cresting the top, one could see a sickly sort of forest full of barren trees reaching out at the sky like gnarled witch fingers.

From here, the damage from the shooting stars had become evident, a number of elms bent and fallen over like that Ninepins, that favorite pastime of Bree.

The Lost Forest. Notorious for being the final address of many missing Hobbits, beer kegs, and buried treasures. Its repute had dulled somewhat over the years, as evidenced by the bold Hobbit's expedition there.

Of course, it could have also been due to the addition of new easy to spot landmarks.

The Ninepins reference...not unique to me. As we crossed the ridge, Nob remarked, "See? It looks like someone should get a spare if they throw once more."

I didn't bother to acknowledge this pathetic attempt at humor with a reply.

The lack of foliage made it harder to get lost. A careful eye might even find the legendary Cask of Blanco Stonehill, though I doubt that any vintage from the careless Shire founder would be very much more than vinegar at this point.

We rode onward and inward. I stowed my pointy hat as the branches swung dangerously low. It reminded me of the ancient legend of Daros of Demikos, a man whose long hair got caught in trees just like this one.

That man got drawn and quartered by Orcs, his body parts delivered to kings in all four regions of the world.

Now that's a cheerful thought.

The "house"...not what I expected. Smashed up against a groaning broken tree, the thing reminded me of a boat.

Crafted of an entirely impractical alloy of metal, the rounded front end resembling a prow, its opposite a stern.

A queer little vessel, not quite the size of a frigate, but definitely not a raft.

No deck, no lookout or windows, no apparent place for a captain to stand and steer. A gray rudderless vehicle carved all about with mystical runes, the types of which I had never laid eyes on before. Its door, an impractically wide thing at the bottom, hung open all the way, displaying rows of green eggs the size of barrels, and the slumped form of a dozen giants with faces pale as bleached cloth.

As I dismounted and cautiously approached the thing, the tree above me groaned threateningly.

I touched the hull of this contraption. Warm to the touch, despite the winter clime, and it vibrated beneath my fingers.

Drawing my sword, I edged toward the opening.

The room beyond...gray, unadorned with any sort of decoration save for strange square devices which flickered with multiple colors of cold fire.

The eggs all showed signs of being recently hatched, their upper portions folded open like something had crawled out from under a blanket.

Other than that, the eggs, and the bodies, the chamber proved to be empty, save for piles upon piles of hexagonal barrels of various shapes and sizes, and seamless cylindrical objects resembling drums from the south seas, coated in black ooze.

I checked the pulses of these strange men...all dead.

With great trepidation, I pried open a barrels with my knife. A dead man lay inside, this one smaller, with pink skin.

I quickly closed it, wondering what wickedness had been cast from Manwei's celestial kingdom.

At great risk to my life, I continued my explorations, leaning over these open eggs, staring inside.

The eggs contained a yellow sludge, like a sickly pudding made of old bananas, and a peculiar sort of maggot with legs of a water strider and a tail of a worm swam about inside.

I prepared to satisfy my scientific curiosity, but Nob yelled, "Gandalf! Come take a look at this!"

When I emerged, following Nob's leading, I came across a giant bear with a pink spider creature affixed to its face.

I leaned over to experiment with it, but Nob tugged the sleeve of my robe.

"Gandalf."

I looked up.

What I saw caused me to swear by every god on Middle Earth.

Not just one bear. Three had been felled.

And deer, horses, Orcs and dwarves.

"Gods!" I gasped. "And this isn't the only boat!"