Thorin sighed and looked at Balin.
"We don't have a choice, Balin." he reminded his kinsman, passing the map over to Lord Elrond. The elf spread the map out carefully on the pedestel and looked upwards towards the moon. "These runes were written on Midsummer's Eve, the same moon that shines down on us now." he explained, as suddenly shafts of silvery light reflected on the pedestel. As they hit the parchment of the map, Thorin and Balin looked on in amazement as glowing letters appeared where there had once been blank parchment.
"Stand by the grey stone, when the thrush knocks, and the setting sun on the last light of Durin's Day, will shine upon the key hole." recited Elrond, his finger tracing along the parchment as he read the words.