It was so dark in the room that Frodo didn’t know where to go. He was so unsure of his surroundings that he felt as if he could fall into an abyss if he took a single step in any direction! The uruk-hai shoved Frodo forward and he collided into a low table, or pedestal of sorts. Catching himself with his hands, he felt a strangely cold, smooth, round object on top of the pedestal in front of him. His touch seemed to awaken it, and it erupted the bright light of and array of flames from deep within itself. It began to pain Frodo to touch it, but he was unable to move his hands from the surface. Frodo cried out and fell to the ground. He closed his eyes tight, but the vision of the flames was burning in his mind. “I see you,” a voice hissed in Frodo’s head, “Tell me: Where is my Ring?” Frodo’s eyes flashed open. He knew to whom he was speaking with. “Tell me, halfling!” the voice demanded, “Where is my Ring?” Frodo did not stir, though his hands were in agony. “I do not have your ring,” replied Frodo with a stern and steady voice. “Liar,” the voice grew angry, “LIAR!”
The floor began to shake beneath the hobbit. The pain intensified, and Frodo cried out again. Not only his hands, but his arms as well now felt as if they were on fire. His head throbbed and his ears rung.
Without warning, it became completely silent. There was only the lingering ring in Frodo’s ears. The flames consumed themselves into nothing, and all was still. Frodo dropped the palantir and let it roll across the ground. He lay there for a moment as the burning cooled down and the ringing in his ears faded. As the ringing died out, he heard another strange noise. It was like the call of an alarm. High pitched and urgent. At once, Frodo rose from the floor and staggered blindly, looking for a way out. The orc was gone. “Maybe it has gone off to answer the call? What has happened?” wondered Frodo. It did not occur to him that his friends were here to help him.
