Chapter 374: An Unexpected Mishap
"Frodo, try to take up the Ring. Be careful not to let it ensnare you," said Gandalf.
Of all those in the room, only Tom and Bilbo could handle the Ring without falling under its spell.
Tom would never leave the Old Forest, so the task of carrying it could only fall to Frodo.
At Gandalf's words, Frodo eyed the Ring in the box with wary distrust, but still reached out, lifted it, and set it in the palm of his hand.
Gandalf watched every flicker of expression on his face. "How do you feel?" he asked.
Frodo stared at the Ring, his eyes reluctant to leave it. "Er… I am not sure how to say it. There is a little voice in my mind telling me to hide it, to keep it for myself. But… I can manage. If I ignore that voice, it does not trouble me too much."
Gandalf let out a slow breath, but his tone remained grave. "You must treat this Ring with the utmost caution. If you let it sway you, its power will corrupt you, and you will become nothing more than its puppet."
At the warning, Frodo stiffened and looked down at the Ring with renewed vigilance. "I will be very careful. Truly," he promised.
Kael, standing to one side, added, "The Ring's pull is very strong. Even if Frodo can resist it for a time, long contact will change him. Since Tom's box can shield and weaken its power, we should keep it shut away."
As he spoke, he drew a small leather pouch from his robes and handed it to Frodo.
"This is a dragonhide pouch. It blocks most magic from passing through, and it's bigger on the inside—about the size of a small room. You can keep the Ring, and anything else you need, in there."
At Kael's suggestion, Frodo forced down the sudden reluctance tugging in his chest, set the Ring back in Tom's silver box, and then tucked the box into the dragonhide pouch.
He could still feel the faintest tug from within the pouch, but it was nothing compared to the temptation from before.
Only then did Kael, Gandalf, and Frodo all breathe out together in relief.
Most of all Frodo, for the whispering in his heart had fallen silent, and the painful sense of attachment to the Ring had vanished with it.
With the Ring secured, the three saw no reason to linger. After heartfelt farewells to Tom and Goldberry, they turned to the fireplace, ready to return to Hogwarts by Floo.
Frodo stepped into the hearth first.
"Hogwarts!" he cried, flinging down a pinch of Floo powder.
Green fire leapt up around him, taking hold to send him on his way.
In that instant, though, the Ring in his enchanted pouch flared with a surge of invisible darkness. Its power ripped through both box and dragonhide, clawing at the very fabric of the Floo path.
The Floo Network shuddered as if a great hand had shaken its web. The steady, ordered route of travel buckled and twisted out of control.
"No!" Kael's face drained of colour as he felt the distortion. He lunged forward, trying to haul Frodo back out of the flames.
But the green fire had already swallowed Frodo whole. Before Kael could take a single step, the hobbit was gone, snatched away.
Staring at the empty fireplace, Kael's expression grew dark.
"What has happened, Kael?" Gandalf demanded. He had felt something amiss as well, but knew far less of the Floo's workings and looked to Kael for an answer.
Kael's jaw tightened. "As Frodo travelled, some force burst out from him and shattered the Floo's stability. Now… I have no idea where he has been sent."
The moment Kael spoke of a power erupting from Frodo, Gandalf knew at once what it must be.
"The Ring," he said, his voice heavy. "Sauron poured a great part of his own spirit and strength into it. It has a will of its own, and it is always seeking a way back to its master.
"It slipped from Isildur's hand at the Ford and left him to die, then abandoned Gollum when he could no longer bear it out of the dark, and chose to be found by Bilbo instead.
"Now it has sensed danger again. It is trying to shake free of you and me, whom it cannot sway, and take hold of Frodo, so that he may carry it back to Sauron."
He frowned deeply. "We do not know where he has gone. We must find him quickly, before he comes to harm."
Kael's worry was no less. When the Floo failed, a traveller could be flung almost anywhere.
If Frodo had fallen into some deadly place, where his life was under threat, they might already be too late.
"I will check the Marauder's Map first," Kael said, already reaching into his robes. "If he landed anywhere within my lands, we will see him at once."
The Marauder's Map showed every corner of the territory under Kael's rule. If Frodo had arrived within those borders, his name would soon be found.
Kael could only hope.
If the Ring had flung him beyond that reach, across half the world, then finding him swiftly would be near impossible.
Before he could even unfold the Map, Tom Bombadil spoke up. "No need to search, Kael, lad. The wind from the West has told me where your little friend has gone. The hobbit you want is in the Old Forest now."
"Frodo is in the Old Forest?" Kael and Gandalf cried together.
Tom nodded, but a shadow of concern creased his brow. "You had best hurry," he said. "He is carrying the Ring, and that has made the trees very angry. They are attacking him as we speak."
At that, Kael's worry sharpened into fear. He quickly asked where in the Forest Frodo had appeared.
"Downstream along the Withywindle," Tom replied, "where Old Man Willow stands. You remember the place, Kael."
With a clear destination, Kael wasted no time. He seized Gandalf's arm and Side‑Along Apparated.
Down the Withywindle, an ancient, half‑hollow willow rose by the riverbank, its great limbs swaying in the breeze and humming with a low, barely audible song that carried sleep and dream within it.
Frodo, meanwhile, had tumbled into the Forest in utter confusion.
He had no idea how he had come to be here. At first, he did not even realise it was the Old Forest.
He only felt, with a creeping chill, that all the trees around him were twisted and grim, and that countless unseen eyes were watching him with pure malice.
A shiver ran down his spine. He drew the dagger Kael had given him and turned slowly about, searching for whatever was spying on him.
He saw no living creature, no flicker of movement but the restless branches. The press of trees was so thick that not even birdsong reached him.
Swift‑witted as ever, Frodo's thoughts turned at once to the trees themselves. The unseen gaze was theirs.
And with that, the truth dawned on him. This could only be the Old Forest.
Before Bilbo had brought him to live at Bag End, Frodo had grown up in Buckland, at the Forest's very edge. He had heard its tales since he was small.
He knew that the trees there were awake in their own dark fashion, and that they hated outsiders. Long before he was born, they had risen against Buckland itself.
Knowing now where he stood, Frodo grew even more wary. He moved with the greatest care, trying not to disturb the watching wood, and silently prayed that Kael and Gandalf would reach him soon.
His prayers, however, went unanswered.
The hostility in the air was unmistakable. Branches rattled, and leaves whispered harshly. Great limbs slammed down, trying to crush him, while roots heaved up from the ground to trip and snare him.
Frodo dodged and darted, his small size and quick feet serving him well as he slipped between the trunks.
More than once, the blows that should have broken him instead struck a shimmering barrier: the protective brooch Kael had given him flared to life, spreading a shield of magic that turned aside the worst of the assault.
Seizing those brief openings, Frodo ran on as fast as he could and burst at last into a small clearing where Old Man Willow stood.
Whether his luck was good or ill, he could not have said. He had escaped the wrath of the forest, only to stumble straight into the lair of its cruelest heart.
The Willow's low song thickened in the air, heavy with drowsiness. Not even the brooch's magic could keep it out.
Under the weight of that enchantment, Frodo's mind grew hazy. Step by step, he wandered closer until he stood beneath Old Man Willow's gnarled trunk, swaying.
Slowly, like a sleepwalker, he began to move toward a great cleft in the bark, a gaping mouth where the tree waited to swallow him whole.
"Petrificus Totalus!"
Kael appeared in a crack of displaced air. His spell struck Old Man Willow like a hammer, locking its trunk and branches in place. The tree froze where it stood, and the droning song broke off at once.