Quicksilver

by Dean Koontz

“Does Frodo mean anything to you?” “The Lord of the Rings. I loved those books.” “Of course you did. Was Frodo a hero?” “Yes. A great one.” “After he carried the One Ring all the way from the Shire to the evil realm of Mordor, to the place where it could be destroyed, the ring corrupted him. He put it on.” “Only for a moment. He did nothing evil.” “Because Gollum bit Frodo’s finger off to get the ring. Frodo would otherwise have succumbed to the lust for power.” “I’d like to think he wouldn’t have.” “Of course you would like to think it. That’s you. But Frodo lost his innocence and never was quite at home in the Shire again when he returned to it, never at home among the innocent hobbits.” “I never liked that part. I wish he could have been at home among them,” I said. “Of course you do. He was nonetheless a great hero. Had he not been, the hobbits would have perished, every one, and with them all others with any room for innocence in their hearts. Middle-earth would have been a place of endless horror.