The Bridge of Camshaft-Doom!
Ted Handyman's horn sounded once more, more urgent than before.
Gandalf and the Hobbits dashed down the stairs to the engine-room, hurtling through a wall of thick black smoke. There they found Ted gibbering uncontrollably in a corner.
"Ai! Ai!" he wailed.
"Aye aye," replied Sam, nodding to him in greeting.
"No! Ai! Ai!" Ted persisted.
"Ai?" enquired Sam, blinking in confusion.
"Aye!" confirmed Ted.
"Eh? Ai?"
"Eh? Aye!"
"Oh!"
"If you're both quite finished, I suggest we get down to business," said Gandalf impatiently.
Cautiously, they advanced along the great camshaft that ran almost the full length of the unfeasibly large chamber which housed the engine of Bag-Endless-Fuel. The shaft bridged a vast chasm below them, over which the vehicle had conveniently come to rest. Thick smog obscured the far end of the chamber. Beyond it, a fiery light glowed and an ominous clanking and grinding could be heard, a sound which suggested that the Burrow-Buggy's delicate mechanical parts were being put to a use other than that for which they were designed.
As they reached the far end of the shaft, the black cloud parted to reveal a sight which filled them with dread. A demon of smoke and fire stood amidst the wreck of the engine, munching on what looked to be a piston. It was like a great shadow, in the middle of which was a dark form, of man-shape maybe, yet greater; and power and terror seemed to be in it and to go before it. As they watched, it wrenched a series of gears from the guts of the engine and, with sparks flying about it, set about chewing on them. Then it caught sight of them and with a rush it leaped towards them. Flames poured from the stricken engine and wreathed about it, and the black, oily smoke swirled in the air. In its right hand was a blow-torch and in its left it held a chain of many links.
“A Balrog,” muttered Gandalf. “Now I understand. What an evil fortune! Deep indeed did the Dwarves of Khazad-Zoom delve.”
"Ai!" wailed Ted
"Eh?" questioned Sam.
"Don't start that again!" said Merry.
The dark figure streaming with fire rushed towards them.
"Back over the shaft!" cried Gandalf. "Fly!"
"But Gandalf ...!" objected Frodo.
"This is a foe beyond any of you. I must hold the narrow way. Fly!"
“Fine by me,” said Frodo. “I just wanted to point out that we cannot fly, as we do not have wings.”
“I meant fly in the figurative sense of moving with great speed, rather than in the literal sense of travelling through the air,” observed Gandalf.
“Right you are!” replied the Hobbits, turning and flying figuratively back towards the stairs. On reaching them, they turned to watch in horror, as the Balrog reached the camshaft. Gandalf stood in the middle of the span, leaning on his staff. His enemy halted, facing him, and the shadow about it reached out like two vast wings. Sparks flew from its nostrils. But Gandalf stood firm.
"You cannot parse!" he said.
The Balrog paused and considered this for a moment.
“Cannot what?” it asked.
"Parse. As in to break something down into its constituent parts. You cannot do that to the engine. I will not let you. I have a lot riding on this. I am a servant of the secret bet, wielder of the odds of favour. This engine will not satiate you, devourer of turbine. Go back to the scrapyard! You cannot parse!"
A terrible, crackling roar came from the Balrog's fiery maw, and the Hobbits realised that it was laughing.
"Oh yeah, old man? Whaddya going to do about it? Uncloak?"
"Don't tempt me!"
The Balrog made no answer. The fire in it seemed to die, but the darkness grew. It stepped forward slowly on to the shaft, and suddenly it drew itself up to a great height, and its wings were spread from wall to wall. But still Gandalf could be seen, glimmering in the gloom. He seemed small, and altogether alone: grey and bent, like a penniless debtor before the onset of bankruptcy.
'You cannot parse!' Gandalf insisted.
With a bound the Balrog leaped full upon the camshaft. Its blow-torch sprang into flame and its chain whirled and clinked.
At that moment Gandalf lifted his staff, and crying aloud he smote the shaft before him. The staff broke asunder and fell from his hand. Sparks flew and the camshaft cracked. Right at the Balrog's feet it broke, and the section upon which it stood dropped into the chasm below. With a terrible cry the Balrog fell forward, and its shadow plunged down and vanished. But even as it fell it swung its chain, and the links lashed and curled about the wizard's knees, dragging him to the brink. He staggered, and fell, grasped vainly at the shaft, and slid into the abyss.
“Fly, you fools!” he cried, and was gone.
"Gandalf!" cried Frodo and Bilbo in unison.
"Fly?" mused Sam aloud. "And just how does he expect us to do that, either literally or figuratively, with the engine being such a wreck and all?"
"Look!" cried Merry, pointing to the shadows which still hung about the ceiling above. "The Balrog's wings are still there. They must have torn from it when it fell into the chasm."
“But they’re not real wings,” pointed out Frodo. “The shadow just looks like two vast wings. There’s a difference, you know.”
“Nonsense, my boy,” said Bilbo. “They look real enough to me, spreading as they do from wall to wall. You think that you can fix them up to what’s left of the engine, Ted?"
"Quite frankly, Mister Baggins, nothing would surprise me at this stage. I’ll do my best. They may not last us long, but I may be able to make running repairs to the rest of the engine on the way."
And so it was that, before long, Bag-Endless-Fuel took to the air powered by the two mighty, shadowy Balrog wings which might or might not have been real, but which were real enough for present purposes to convey it
Due North.