[Celuien]

An hour passed on winged feet as Panakeia raced toward Mount Doom. The metaphor collapsed into blistered feet at the end of that hour. High heels were no substitute for running shoes she thought ruefully as she pulled off the uncomfortable footwear. Gazing at the horizon, Panakeia winced. Mount Doom still loomed in the distance, not visibly closer than it had been an hour ago. She looked from her feet to the mountain's shadow, to her feet, and back again. The mountain was so far away, at least for a pedestrian. So very far away.

But what else could she do? In her haste to leave, Panakeia's credit and debit cards had been left in her Lûndûn flat. And she'd spent the cash she had brought in the mall and on lodging. There was no other choice but to walk and run to the mountain and Anakron for as long as her legs could carry her. No task was too great for love. All you need is love.

With that inspirational thought, Panakeia took up her journey again. And somehow it seemed to her that the mountain grew larger against the clouds, that she at last drew close to her destination. It was odd that the distance was covered so much faster with the same effort as before. Perhaps, she thought, the song in her head gave her new strength.

Then, of a sudden, the answer to the mystery came in the form of trembling earth and a cloud of dust. Mount Doom zoomed past her with a rumble and a roar, and she fell in the mountain's wake. The mobile mountain vanished, and Panakeia stared after it.

This was a new complication. Now Panakeia was not only penniless and without transportation, but also without any clear idea of where she was headed. There had to be some way to follow. Several newsvans sped after the mountain, kamuras rolling, as she ran over the problem.

One of the vans screeched to a halt nearby. A bevy of reporters and kamura crews poured out and ran to Panakeia, shoving my crow phones in her face and shining bright lights in her eyes. She glared.

"And now, live from the scene of Mount Doom's destructive passage, we bring you an exclusive eyewitness report of the destruction. Tell us how it feels to come within an inch of disaster." The reporter pushed the my crow phone closer.

Panakeia glared again and answered mockingly.

"Oh, it's lovely. Simply lovely. You really ought to try it sometime. Quite entertaining on a dull day. Now, if you'll excuse me, I'll be on my way to try to have another close call with Mount Doom."

The reporter and kamura crew put their heads together and whispered. "Wait. Are you following the mountain? What a scoop! If you'll give us the story, we'll help you follow. Looks like you could use a ride."

Panakeia hesitated. She didn't like the intruders. But at the same time, she did need their help. So long as they didn't find out who she was - if they did, there would never be an end to questions about Anakron, politics being a way to increase ratings - this could be a useful association.

"Deal."

The reporter beamed, visions of a promotion to the evening news dancing in his head. "Great! And your name is?"

Panakeia's mind went blank. She didn't want to reveal her identity, but she couldn't think of a suitable alias either. "Let's let that go by for now. It'll make for better viewing if I'm a mystery, won't it?"

"You're right. I see we're going to make a good team. Let's go!"

Panakeia joined the crew on the van, and they hurried after Mount Doom.