by M. L. Forman
“For a time it was very close,” Alex answered. “But that is not what you really wish to know.”
“No, it’s not.”
“Do you wish me to remove the spell I placed upon you?”
“Do you think seeing the truth will be too much for me?” Kat asked, looking him in the eye.
“No. You should see the truth if you are ready, and I think you are,” Alex answered.
“Then show me,” Kat pleaded.
Alex nodded. He stood up, touching Kat’s forehead with his hand as he rose. He felt the spell he’d put on her begin to lift, but he removed it slowly so she would not be suddenly overcome.
Kat watched him for a moment and then turned away, her eyes filling with tears.
“Do not be too hard on yourself,” Alex said in a low voice, bending toward Kat so only she could hear him. “Do not hate the gift you have because evil tried to use you. Learn from what has happened so you can prevent such things from happening again.”
Kat did not answer him, but blindly caught his hand with her own. She pulled it to her lips and gently kissed it before letting go.
Alex glanced around, making sure that the others had not seen Kat’s gesture. He was surprised by Kat’s action and unsure of what she might have meant by it. He patted Kat on the shoulder, and, feeling tired beyond words, he went to find his bed.
Chapter Twenty
To the Golden Rocks
Alex and his friends remained in Neplee as winter slowly changed to spring. The city had become more like the other dwarf cities Alex had visited in the past, and everywhere he went he was greeted with bows and smiles. Turlock had officially named him a lord of Neplee, a title all the dwarfs took seriously. Even Thrang addressed him as lord, at least when they were out in public.
There were feasts and parties almost every night, and Alex soon longed for the quiet, simple life of the open road. The fact that all of the attention was to honor him and what he had done for Neplee meant he could not miss a single feast, no matter how much he would have liked to. He knew that the dwarfs meant well, and he loved them for their kindness, but he needed to be alone and think about what had happened to him.
Sometimes, when it all became too much and Alex thought he couldn’t face one more party, he would leave the city for at least part of the day. Taking the shape of an eagle or sometimes the wind, he was free to roam the lands around Neplee.
He had sent a message to Whalen telling him what had happened in the necromancer’s cave and exactly how he’d managed to defeat Mog. He did not, however, tell Whalen about what Salinor had said. Something kept Alex from sharing the dragon’s words, even with Whalen.
Whalen had been shocked to learn the necromancer’s name, and he had gone into great detail about the stories and myths he’d heard concerning an evil spirit named Mog.
“I have no doubt now that some of the stories and myths are true,” Whalen had written in his letter to Alex. “And once more, I am impressed by your abilities.”
Finally the snows began to melt, and the smells of spring filled the air. Alex’s companions were almost as eager as he was to be back on the road, and they were all excited to continue their adventure. The dwarfs of Neplee knew that Alex’s time in the city was growing short, and they made great efforts to have as many feasts as possible before the adventurers left the city.
Alex had spent a lot of time thinking over the winter, and he had finally decided that the crown of Set should be remade. One night, after yet another feast, Alex went to his room and slipped into his magic bag. He collected the broken crown from the treasure room and then quickly went into his father’s bag, hoping that his smitty friends would be able to help him.
“Bobkin, Belkin,” Alex called as he entered the workshop. “I know it’s late, but I need your help.”
“Coming, Master Alex,” Bobkin’s voice answered.
Alex heard the hidden door open, and he was about to light some of the lamps in the dimly lit shop when he stopped short.
“What can we do for you?” Bobkin questioned, hurrying toward Alex with Belkin and Dobkin following close behind.
“Um, what?” Alex said, his attention fixed on Dobkin. “I need you to . . . Why is Dobkin glowing?”
“Oh, well, yes,” said Belkin. “He does that sometimes, but it doesn’t seem to bother him.”
“That’s not normal, is it?” Alex questioned.
“No, not normal at all,” said Bobkin. “You had some tasks you needed our help with?”
“How often does Dobkin glow?” Alex asked, waving his hand and bringing light to the workshop.
“Every new moon,” said Belkin.
“That would mean . . . Of course!” said Alex, setting the broken halves of Set’s crown on the worktable. “I know what’s happened to him.”
“He was hit on the head,” said Bobkin.
“No, he was hexed,” said Alex. “Someone has tried to control him, but they didn’t do a very good job. Every new moon the spell is renewed, which is why he glows.”
“Are you sure?” Belkin questioned. “I mean, who would hex a smitty?”
“I don’t know,” said Alex. “But I’m sure I can remove the spell, and once I do Dobkin will be himself again.”
“If you could help Dobkin, we would be even more in your debt,” said Bobkin.
“Dobkin,” said Alex. “Look at me.”
The glowing smitty staggered forward, and his head bobbed about as if he was drunk. His eyes looked unfocused.
“Dobkin,” said Alex, snapping his fingers to get the smitty’s attention.
He looked up at the sound and his face slowly broke into a smile. “Dobkin!” Dobkin shouted.
“This shouldn’t take long,” said Alex. He lifted his right hand, extending his index finger.
Dobkin’s eyes followed Alex’s finger, and his head shifted to follow it as Alex moved his finger up and down and from side to side. Finally Alex reached out and tapped the smitty on the head. Dobkin instantly stopped glowing.
“That should do it,” said Alex. “Of course, he’ll need to sleep, but he should be his old self when he wakes up in the morning.”
“Oh, that is good news,” said Belkin happily. “You’re sure it was a hex?”
“I’m sure.”
“Well, if that’s settled, tell us what you need our help with,” said Bobkin, his eyes darting to the broken crown behind Alex.
“I need your help repairing this crown,” said Alex as he turned back to the table.
Bobkin hurried to climb onto the tabletop. “Oh, this was a nice piece at one time. Well made, dwarven design, and . . .”
“And?” Alex questioned.
“It had some magic in it once,” said Belkin, standing beside Bobkin. “I can’t see what the magic was for, but it was definitely there.”
“Is there any way to find out what the magic was?” Alex questioned.
“Maybe,” said Bobkin. “We’ll need to study it for a bit. How soon will you need it repaired?”
“Oh, there’s no rush,” said Alex. “I imagine it will be several months before I need it, and if you can discover what magic was in it in the meantime, that would be helpful.”
“Well, if Dobkin is himself again in the morning, it shouldn’t be too hard,” said Belkin. “Dobkin has a knack for spotting magic and figuring out how it works. We might need you to work the magic, Master Alex, but at the very least we should be able to tell you what it was and why it was there.”
“Excellent,” said Alex. “I’ll leave the crown with you, then. Feel free to use whatever you need to repair it.”
“It doesn’t look like it will take much,” said Belkin in a thoughtful tone.
“The sapphire might be a problem,” said Bobkin.
“Gems aren’t something we usually repair,” said Belkin.
“You have my permission to search the treasure room in this bag and in my other bag for a replacement,” said Alex.
“Very good, Maste
r Alex,” said Bobkin with a bow.
“I’ll come back in a day or two to check on Dobkin,” said Alex. “And don’t work too hard on the crown. Like I said, I won’t need it for a few months at least.”
“As you wish,” Bobkin and Belkin said together.
Alex climbed into his bed knowing that the smittys would make the crown as good as new, possibly even better. He felt good about his decision to have the crown repaired, and he felt even better that he’d discovered and removed the hex that had been placed on Dobkin. He wondered again who would put a hex on a smitty, but the thought was soon lost as he fell asleep.
***
Before the snows had completely melted, Turlock sent several dwarfs to find horses for Alex and his companions, as there were few animals left in the city. Thrang began preparing for their departure, buying things he thought they might need along the way and stocking everyone’s bags with food.
“Turlock doesn’t know how far away Gal Tock is, and I doubt any other dwarf does. We should be prepared for a long road,” Thrang said as he sorted packages one night.
“I’ve spent some time in the libraries,” Arconn added. “All of the maps stop just south of the Lost Mountains, so there is no knowing what lies ahead of us.”
“There are no dwarf cities farther south?” Thrain questioned.
“Oh, yes, there are several,” said Thrang. “And even some to the west as well. The dwarfs of Thraxon have spread far and wide, and there’s no telling where you might find a dwarf village or city.”
“Is there some reason all the dwarf cities are not known to King Thorgood?” Alex questioned.
“Thorgood’s capital is in the north,” Thrang answered thoughtfully. “It has been a long time since any of the northern kings have sent messengers this far south.”
“Why is that?” Barnabus asked as he stored the parcels Thrang had given him.
“There’s no reason, at least none you could name,” Thrang said, shifting in his seat.
“What is it that you can’t put your finger on?” Alex asked, beginning to worry that trouble lay ahead of them.
“I only know what the legends say,” Thrang answered. “The king of the dwarf realm has lived in Benorg for nearly three thousand years, so if some of the cities in the far south have forgotten him or found a new king, well . . . I suppose that’s only natural.”
“So it is possible that the dwarfs of the south will not recognize Thorgood as the king,” Alex said thoughtfully. “In fact, they may not be too friendly with us once they learn we are on a quest for Thorgood.”
“It is possible,” said Thrang, returning to his sorting. “But if we don’t speak of our goal—or Thorgood’s name or title—there is nothing to worry about.”
“A title Thorgood finds difficult to keep without the crown of the ancient kings,” Alex said in a low voice so only Thrang could hear him.
Thrang didn’t answer but nodded his agreement to Alex’s statement. Alex thought about Thrang’s words as he stored his own parcels in his bag, realizing just how important Set’s request had been. Set knew that Thorgood was his heir, but there would be almost no way of proving it to some other king who ruled in the south of Thraxon. Suddenly, Alex remembered something else—something Mr. Clutter had told him before he had joined this adventure. Alex filed the thought away, determined to think about it more later.
That night, Turlock held a grand feast, and every dwarf family in Neplee presented a gift of some kind to Alex. Alex accepted their gifts with thanks and bows, but he thought most of the families could not afford the gifts they were giving. Yet, he knew that he could not refuse any of the gifts without losing honor. Still he worried, and after the feast ended, he asked Turlock for a private word.
“Your city has been very generous to me,” Alex said once he and Turlock had entered Turlock’s private room.
“No less than you deserve, my friend,” said Turlock. “You’ve done us a great service and made it possible for us to prosper once again.”
“Yes,” Alex agreed. “But I fear that some of your people have given more than they should have.”
“I see,” said Turlock, taking a step closer to Alex. “And you fear they will suffer hardship because of their gifts to you.”
“As I said, your city has been very generous.”
“And I see you know enough of dwarfs to know that you cannot give back the gifts that have been given,” Turlock said thoughtfully.
“I would not insult your people, Turlock. I have another solution in mind.”
“What is that, Lord Taylor? Say what you wish, I will not be offended.”
Alex took out his magic bag and spoke softly into the top of it. The air in the room stirred slightly as the huge pile of gems he had taken from the necromancer’s cave appeared on the chamber floor.
“I wish you to use this wealth to help your people,” Alex said. “I took it from the mountains, so it rightfully belongs to your city.”
“I—” Turlock began but stopped, looking at the pile in front of him. “You are too good to us. I cannot accept all of this, not even for my people.”
“Yet you know that many of them will need your help,” Alex pressed.
“Yes, they will, but I don’t think they will need this much help,” Turlock answered with a weak smile. “Leave a third of this wealth. That will be more than enough to help the needy of this city.”
“You are wise and kind, and perhaps too generous,” said Alex. “I will leave half, but you must promise me two things.”
“Whatever you ask of me, I will do,” Turlock answered firmly.
“First, no one can know that I left this wealth with you, at least it can’t be generally known. You’ll have to explain things to the lords of Neplee, but I’m sure they will understand my wishes.”
“It will be as you wish. And the second promise?”
“That you use this wealth only to help those who are truly in need,” Alex said, holding Turlock’s eyes with his own. “You are not to give any of these gems to those who don’t work or don’t try to provide for themselves. You understand my meaning.”
“Yes,” Turlock answered with a bow. “It will be as you ask.”
“Then I will leave you for tonight, my friend,” said Alex. “And we will say farewell in the morning.”
“You are forgetting something,” Turlock said as Alex turned toward the door. “You are to take half of this with you, remember?”
“Yes, of course,” Alex answered, laughing at himself. “You know, there was a time when such treasure would seem like all the wealth in the world to me. Now it seems a small thing, something that is easy to forget.”
“Your wealth is greater than gems or gold,” said Turlock. “You have the love of friends, and their hopes for you.”
Alex smiled and nodded. He spoke once again into the top of his magic bag. The air moved slightly and the pile between Alex and Turlock grew smaller. Alex nodded once more to Turlock before he left the room, slowly making his way back to his friends and then to his room to sleep one last night in Neplee.
Their departure the next morning was both a happy and a sad event. Every dwarf in the city lined the road to the main gates, and those who couldn’t find a spot along the way crowded around and outside the city gates. Turlock waited at the gates to wish them farewell, reminding Alex one more time that if he was ever in need, the city of Neplee would come to his assistance.
“Farewell, my friends,” Alex called as Thrang led them away from the city. “May your city prosper in peace.”
There was a loud cheer in reply, and then the dwarfs began to sing an old traveling song.
“It is meant to bring us luck,” Thrang said by way of explanation. “It is an old song, and some people say there is magic in it.”
“Magic?” Kat questioned.
“I don’t know if that is true, but it’s well meant,” Thrang said happily.
They rode across the open lands, their horses’ hooves crunch
ing loudly through the last few inches of snow that remained on the ground. The air was pleasantly cool, and they could smell the promise of spring in it.
“The open air is wonderful,” Nellus called from behind Alex. “The dwarf city was a good place to spend the winter, but I’m happy to be in the open again.”
“As am I,” Barnabus agreed. “We did too much sitting around in Neplee. I fear we’ve all grown soft from the kindness of the dwarfs.”
“Then you’ll have to harden in a hurry,” said Thrang. “I fear our quest for Albrek’s tomb is far from over.”
“The dwarfs of the Lost Mountains didn’t know where Albrek had gone,” Kat said softly. “If they ever knew, they have forgotten long ago.”
“And we are running out of places to look,” Alex added.
“That’s not true,” Thrang said with a grunting laugh. “There are lots of places we can look; we’re just running out of places where we know we should look.”
“Growing tired of the adventure already?” Arconn joked with a glance at Alex.
Alex laughed and shook his head. He was partly amazed at what they had already accomplished on this adventure and partly troubled by what he had learned along the way. More than anything else, however, he was worried about taking the form of the dragon. Salinor had warned him that it might be difficult for him to return to his human form once he had made the change, or, at least, he had hinted that it might be difficult. Alex didn’t want to risk it, and he didn’t want to run into anything that might tempt him to use his new power. He took comfort in knowing that he had faced and defeated the necromancer without taking the dragon’s shape, even though he had used some of the dragon’s power to do it. For his own reasons he hoped he would have time to prepare himself before making the change.
Alex pushed his worries to the back of his mind as they continued riding south. It was a sunny day, and the land was pleasant to look at.
They camped that night near a small stream, and though it seemed unlikely they would meet trouble, Thrang insisted they keep a watch.
“We don’t know what lies ahead of us, so we might as well prepare for the worst,” Thrang said sternly.