The Shadow Walker

39. The Kraken, the Wizard, and the Cave

We spent the next two days trekking to Moria. Gandalf wasn't exactly sure where the entrance was, and we spent a few hours wandering. Finally, Gimli came over to me and put his grubby hand on my arm. "Eda, lass. Ye should show Gandalf the way. I admit, he might be a bit sore, but in the end, he'll be grateful. Mark my words."

I mentally sighed. Why had I told Gimli I was from Moria? Oh yeah. 'Cuz I have this little habit of lying. And now I had to admit that I'd lied, or lie again. Facepalm, facepalm, facepalm.

"To be honest, I've never been out this entrance," I answered. And please notice, this wasn't a lie. "I usually leave through the east door." Of other establishments.

"Ah," Gimli said, "a pity. But, yer honesty is a testimony to yer character."

I flinched. Ouch.

An hour or two more passed before Gandalf found the old, worn path. As we followed it, climbing Moria's foothills, structures in the stone began to come into view. They were intricately-carved statues of Dwarves, and beautifully fashioned, but there were cracks in the stone, with hardy mountain grasses and moss growing from it.

The path, too, seemed unkempt; rocks and gravel had built up, peppering the path and sometimes covering it altogether.

Gimli stumbled over some loose rocks and fell to his backside. Grumbling under his breath, he pushed himself back onto his stumpy legs and kept plugging along.

I held back a giggle, but my amusement was quickly erased when the rocks beneath my feet shifted. Hands gripped my upper arms from behind, preventing me from falling. I glanced down. The fingers were long and slender, and I could feel Legolas's heat at my back.

"Thank you," I murmured.

"That is what friends are for," he replied, shifting his hold to one of my elbows. Then he continued walking, guiding me over the treacherous terrain.

It was slow going, and the sun had set by the time the grand entrance came into view. A magnificent archway led to a narrow path beside the sheer mountainside. To the right was a murky pond, and on the other side of that were a handful of old, dying trees.

Frodo slipped, and one of his feet splashed into the water. With a gasp, he jerked it back out. The soft noises echoed hauntingly.

At the front of the company, Gandalf stopped. The path had reached a dead end. But, undeterred, Gandalf walked up to the smooth mountainside and brushed a hand over its surface. "Let's see," he muttered. "Ithildin...it mirrors only starlight and moonlight..." He turned around, looking up. The clouds parted, revealing the full moon, and parts of the stone began to glow.

I hid my startled expression as the glowing lines formed a doorway, and an inscription. I was supposed to have seen this kind of thing before, after all. But still. It was amazing.

"It reads, 'The Doors of Durin, lord of Moria. Speak, friend, and enter.'"

The earth gave a low groan, one of long-born torture. I glanced around the company; they were listening as Gandalf explained the inscription. Naturally, I was the only one that heard the earth's cry.

I turned away, facing the water. I wished I could reach the trees on the other side; trees were much easier to communicate with than the earth itself. But that would require crossing the pond, and I wanted nothing less than to touch that filthy water. So instead, I knelt and placed my hand on the ground, gently brushing away the loose gravel until I reached the stone base.

"What troubles you?"

The earth replied with a wail, and a few words in a language long forgotten.