Reverting to the animal part of its nature, the werewolf backed away on all fours, baring its teeth, and growling.

Its head, thought Eowyn, holding its gaze, I must take off its head. Automatically, she rotated her right hand, extending her arm and readying her blade for the strike—

“Melmenya, get down!” Legolas’ voice, sounding fearful but commanding, took her by surprise; then his full weight, hitting her from behind and sending her sword flying, pinned her to the ground as a hail of arrows fell from the trees above.

Haldir and his warriors had arrived!

Eowyn heard the werewolf howl; and she lifted her head, and saw it—pierced in the forehead, neck, and twice in the chest—rise up on its hind legs, holding its clawed hands aloft, and roaring—

Then Legolas pushed her down again, and she heard a second and a third volley of arrows find their targets.

Nothing could survive that, she thought. Not even a demon.

But when Legolas released her, and she looked again, the werewolf’s body was nowhere to be seen.

…

Later

“None of our warriors is injured,” said Haldir, as he and Gimli dealt quickly with the aftermath of the fight.

Eowyn, still crouching beside Legolas, drew out her hunting knife and cut a strip of silk from his tunic. “I have promised to give this to Hobbie,” she said, slipping the knife into its sheath, “when we get back to the camp.” She wound the cloth around a deep scratch on the elf’s arm.

“Thank you, melmenya.”

“We have one changeling—” said Gimli.

Eowyn glanced at the bloody creature—bound to a tree with several lengths of rope and, for good measure, a torn-up jerkin—as it sat, eyeing its captors. She shuddered.

“—one unconscious human,” continued the dwarf, “also bound; and one dead human—both of whom, for the present, seem content to remain human.”

“Master Dínendal will clean and dress this properly,” said Eowyn, “when we get back to the camp. Does it hurt?”

Legolas shook his head. “It is just a scratch.”

“Sirs,” said Osgar, urgently, “you must kill the changeling and the human whilst you have the chance—and you must make sure that the dead man is really dead.”

“How?” asked Haldir. “We have seen that arrows have no effect.”

“I have heard that a silver dart will kill them for certain,” the man replied, “but, failing that, you must strike off their heads.”

Eowyn frowned. How did I know that? she wondered.

“Easily done,” said Gimli. Seconds later, his axe fell on the dead man’s neck.

“Do not kill the others, elvellon,” said Legolas.

Eowyn heard Gimli growl.

“Are you sure, Lassui?” she asked. “Are you feeling all right?”

The elf smiled. “I am fine. How are you, melmenya?”

“A bit bruised.”

Legolas leaned forward and pressed his lips to her forehead. “Thank you for saving me again, Shieldmaiden.” He looked up at Haldir. “Tie the man to a tree,” he said, “then get our people up onto the flets. It will be light soon—the werewolf will not return until nightfall.”

He turned to Gimli. “These creatures do not like being up in the air, elvellon, they are bound to the earth—to the soil. In the trees, we will be safe; and when they come back for our captives, we will be waiting, with silver arrows.”

“How do you know so much about them, Lassui?” asked Eowyn, softly.