Albrek's Tomb

“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 isgood 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, Master 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,” Arco

“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, begi

“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 ca

“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 ca

“Yet you know that many of them will need your help,” Alex pressed.