“Perhaps I can help,” said Alex.
“No doubt you can. Why don’t you magic up a fire while I go and get some water.”
“As you wish,” Alex replied.
Halfdan nodded, then picked up a large, cast-iron cauldron and started off for a nearby spring. Alex watched him go and then turned his attention back to the wet pile of wood in front of him.
“It will take some real magic to get that burning,” said Andy.
“Not often that a dwarf can’t get a fire started,” Val added.
“True enough,” said Alex. “There’s a spell I’ve been wanting to try. I think it should do the job.”
Alex focused his thoughts on the pile of wood and started moving his right hand in a circle. This was a new spell, and he wasn’t sure how well it would work. For a few seconds nothing seemed to happen, and then a bright yellow flame sprang up in the middle of the wet wood.
“Amazing,” said Andy as the flames continued to grow.
The flames didn’t just catch hold on the wood, but seemed to be burning alone in the air as well. Alex kept moving his hand in a circle, and the flames grew into a four-foot-tall tornado in front of him.
“An impressive bit of magic,” Sindar commented as he joined them.
“You’ve learned some new tricks, I see,” added Bregnest. “Not simply conjuring fire anymore, but making it do as you wish.”
“I’ve been studying—” Alex started but was interrupted.
“What the—!” Halfdan said loudly.
Alex looked toward his friend, and immediately the whirlwind of flames moved away from the burning logs and darted toward Halfdan.
“Agghh!” Halfdan yelled in fear.
Dropping the water he was carrying, Halfdan dove behind one of the tents. Alex could hear him crawling wildly away from the flaming whirlwind that was racing to the spot where his friend had been standing. Alex lowered his hand to break the spell, but he wasn’t quick enough to save Halfdan’s cauldron. The flames hit the half-full cauldron of water and sent up a cloud of steam. There was a loud, sharp hiss, and an even louder bang as the flames vanished.
“Halfdan, are you all right?” Alex questioned as he ran toward the tent.
“Hardly,” said Halfdan, getting to his feet. “Stars and stones, Alex, what was that?”
“Just a bit of magic to light the fire,” said Alex, trying not to laugh at the look on Halfdan’s face.
“I thought for a minute that you’d conjured up a fire demon or something worse,” said Halfdan, brushing mud off his pants.
“I’m sorry,” said Alex, forcing the smile from his face. “I didn’t know the whirlwind would go where I was looking.”
“It’s a good thing you are so quick on your feet,” Sindar said to Halfdan from the other side of the tent.
“What do you mean?” Halfdan asked.
“Come and see.”
They moved around the tent to see that the cauldron Halfdan had been carrying was lying on the ground, bone-dry and shattered into a dozen pieces.
“Oh, no,” said Halfdan in a pained voice. “That was my best cooking pot. It’s been in my family for three generations.”
“I’m sorry,” said Alex. “I didn’t mean to . . .”
He felt terrible for destroying Halfdan’s cauldron, and worse now that he knew it had been in Halfdan’s family for so long.
“Perhaps I can mend it,” Alex offered as he bent down to pick up the broken metal pieces.
“Careful. It’s still hot,” said Sindar as he caught Alex’s hand.
“No, it’s no good,” Halfdan said sadly. “Not even the best dwarf smith could repair it now.”
“I’m really sorry,” said Alex, looking from the broken metal to Halfdan. “I’ll be happy to buy you a new pot, and pay you for your loss.”
“No, no—that’s not necessary,” said Halfdan, his eyes lingering on the broken metal fragments. “I have other pots, and it’s no good crying over spilled milk.”
Alex didn’t say anything else, but he continued to feel bad about what he had done even though Halfdan tried to make light of it, as if the pot wasn’t all that important. Alex knew it wasn’t the broken pot that really mattered to Halfdan; it was the memories that the pot brought back. There was nothing Alex could do to replace those memories, and that made him feel even worse about what had happened.
There was little talk as they ate that night. Finally, when the rest of the company started for their tents to get some sleep, Alex went back to the broken bits of metal. They had cooled off, and he picked them up and put them inside his magic bag. He had read something about repairing broken objects, but he didn’t remember exactly how the magic worked. He did know, however, that he had to try to repair the broken pot, even if Halfdan thought it was hopeless.
On their third day away from Oslansk, Alex asked Andy about returning magic bags in Norsland. On his last adventure, Alex had returned a bag to a dwarf in Vargland, and there had been a large ceremony. Alex had learned quite a bit at the time. Now he wondered if he’d have to go through another ceremony, and if so, he wanted to know about it in advance.
“Oh, it’s very simple here,” said Andy. “You and one other person you choose as a witness meet with the heir and his witness. You agree on a reward for returning the bag, which is almost always a share in whatever treasure the bag holds. Once you agree on the reward, the heir will tell you the password for the bag and you both go into the bag and see what’s there.”
“We both go in?” Alex questioned.
“Of course,” said Andy. “Normally the bag holder goes in first and the heir follows him.”
“And then what happens?”
“Then, after looking at what’s in the bag, you both come out again. The heir will restate the reward you’ve agreed on, and the witness will say that they are witnesses,” Andy replied. “Then you and the heir make the arrangements for the payment to be made. That’s about it.”
“That’s all?” Alex pressed, thinking that it sounded too simple.
“Mostly,” said Andy with a shrug.
“What else is there, Andy?” Alex narrowed his eyes in suspicion.
“Well, once you and your witness leave, you tell your witness how much treasure you think the bag holds, and how much you think you should get,” Andy answered. “Then when you and your witness return to collect your reward, if you, or your witness, think you’ve been cheated, you reject the payment. If that happens, then the magistrate has to settle the whole thing.”
“Sounds fairly simple,” said Alex, relaxing a little.
“It is,” said Andy. “It only gets difficult if you reject payment and the magistrate has to get involved.”
“Why? What happens then?”
“If the magistrate gets involved, the heir has to tell him the passwords. Then the magistrate checks the bag and the payment and decides if you’re being cheated or not. If the heir is trying to cheat you, you get double the original offer, and the city gets half of whatever is left in the bag.”
“And if he’s nottrying to cheat me?” Alex asked.
“Then you get half the payment and the city gets the other half,” said Andy.
“That doesn’t sound too bad,” Alex said thoughtfully. “So all I need to know now is what kind of offer would be considered fair, and what might be considered too small. I wouldn’t want to insult the heir by asking for too little.”
“I’ve only heard about a few bags being returned,” Andy said in a thoughtful tone. “I mean, it’s not like lost bags get returned all the time. I think the heir will offer you something like one in four or one in five of everything the bag holds. If you think that’s too much—or not enough—you can make a counteroffer.”
“And how little would be considered an insult?” Alex asked, remembering the last time he’d done this.
“Oh, you might go as low as one in eight or even one in ten,” said Andy thoughtfully. “Anything less would certainly be an insult, so don’t let your generosity get the better of you.”