More Bones (14 page)

He didn't like anything about the wizard—particularly not what he'd heard in the marketplace that morning. An old woman had tugged at his sleeve. He had tried to hurry away, but she insisted on telling him how the wizard had squashed her husband under his heel.

“How could he do that?” the man had asked.

“First he turned him into an ant.”

An ant? The man had shuddered. Could this be true? He'd heard about her husband's disappearance, but was this the work of the wizard?

The woman's story was so upsetting that the man had quickly left the marketplace, and now he was sitting on the stump by the fork in the path. He was still talking to himself, still trying to decide which way to go. He knew how desperately his wife longed for a baby. And, if the truth were known, he did, too. But did he want to face an evil wizard?

Finally the man straightened his shoulders, rose from the stump, and began to walk down the path toward the wizard's hut. An insistent voice inside him kept saying, “Turn around. Go back.” But he forced himself onward. The trees grew thicker and the forest darker.

At last he found himself standing in front of the wizard's hut. But even before he had a chance to knock, the wizard suddenly materialized on the doorstep. The man leaped back, almost falling over his feet.

“So,” said the wizard. “I understand you want a child.”

The man was astounded. How did the wizard know?

“Of course, I know,” said the wizard. “Why else would you come to see me?”

The man was about to turn and run. He was terrified that the wizard could read his mind. But before the man could escape, the wizard stretched his arm to twice its normal length and grabbed him. “Come right in,” he said, pulling him into the hut.

When the man stepped inside, he almost fainted. What incredible power did this wizard have? From the outside, his hut looked as if it were about to collapse. But from the inside it appeared to be the throne room of a palace. Silk tapestries hung on the walls, and the furniture was made of gold.

“Don't be so surprised,” said the wizard. “I have the power to do anything. I can even give you a child. But what can you do for me?” He looked cold and cunning. “How
will
you repay me?”

The man didn't know what to say. He didn't want to offend the wizard by offering a small reward. He felt in his pocket for coins, but he found only three. Not enough.

“You're right,” said the wizard, “I would never give you a child for a few coins. Not even for a basketful.”

“I could cut firewood for you,” the man said, “for a whole year.”

“What for?” scoffed the wizard. With a snap of his fingers he made a rock in the fireplace burst into flame, sending waves of heat into the room.

The wizard thought again. “So . . . you'll do something for me for a year?” His face twisted into an evil grin. “I'll make a bargain with you. I'll help you and your wife have a son. But on his tenth birthday you must bring him to me, to serve me for a year. After that you can take him back. But if you do not bring him to me on his tenth birthday, I'll fetch him myself—then it won't be so easy to regain your son.”

“I'll bring him,” said the man, too happy about the promise of a child to worry about the wizard's demands.

He said good-bye and whistled all the way home. Not only did he have wonderful news for his wife, he hadn't been turned into an ant.

His wife was so happy when he told her about the child, he didn't mention the wizard's bargain.

Just nine months later, his wife gave birth to a fine baby boy. He was the joy of his parents' lives, with his quick mind and his warm smile. His early years sped past, and it wasn't until the approach of his tenth birthday that the boy's father remembered the wizard's warning.

He hated to admit to his wife that he had agreed to such a terrible bargain, and when he finally did, she wept. “I can't give up our son for a year. You must not take him to the wizard.”

“It might be worse if I don't,” he said. “This way, at least we will get him back.” But she was so miserable that her husband didn't know what to do. In the end he did nothing.

So there they were, sitting at the table on the boy's tenth birthday, eating their supper. They didn't realize that the wizard was peering at them in his magic mirror, furious that they had not set forth.

By the time they finished eating, the sun had gone down. It was much too late to venture into the woods—and that's when it happened. One moment the boy was sitting at the table and the next moment he was flying out the open window . . . as a bird.

“The wizard must have cast a spell,” cried the man. His wife fell into his arms weeping, and nothing could console her.

Imagine how confused the boy must have been, suddenly finding himself in the body of a bird, irresistibly flying into the dark forest. Before long, he arrived at the wizard's hut, where he was, just as suddenly, turned back into a boy.

“Ah! There you are,” said the wizard. “I have been waiting for you.” He led the astonished boy into the small hut that contained the large palace. Then the wizard told the boy about the bargain he had made with his father ten years earlier. “And now you are my apprentice,” he said. “I will teach you all that I know.” What he did not tell the boy was that he planned to make him his slave.

The boy knew very well that he couldn't escape the wizard's power, no matter how much he longed to return home. So he settled down to his studies, even though it meant learning the black arts—a kind of magic that he would rather not know. He studied day and night, and in a year's time he possessed almost as much power as his master.

In the meantime, his parents had been counting the days. When at last the year was up, the father hurried down the forest path. The wizard glanced into the magic mirror and saw who was coming. He quickly turned the boy back into a bird, and he did the same to two frogs croaking nearby. Now three birds were flying around the palatial chamber.

When the father arrived, the wizard said, “You did not bring your son to me as you promised, even though you knew this would make it hard for you to get him back.”

What could the father say? He knew it was his fault, but he pleaded with the wizard, telling him how much he and his wife missed their son.

“Don't you think that
I
would miss him if he left?” asked the wizard.

By now the man was ready to beg for mercy.

“No need for that,” the wizard said. “I'll give you a chance. If you can tell me which of these three birds is your son, you may have him back. If not, he will be mine forever.”

The man started trembling. If he chose the wrong bird, he would lose his son. He looked them over. All three were identical—black all over. He didn't know what to do.

The bird-boy desperately wanted to send a signal to its father. So it plucked a feather from its tail and held it in its beak. Then, using magic learned from the wizard, it pronounced a spell that turned the feather red. The father spotted it before the wizard could turn it black again. He pointed at the bird-boy. “That's him!” he shouted.

The wizard was furious. He angrily turned the bird back into the boy. Then he grasped his shoulders painfully hard. “You won this time,” he said, spitting out his words. “But never again use the magic I taught you, or you will be my slave for the rest of your life.”

The moment the wizard let go of the boy, he and his father rushed out the door and down the forest path. They arrived home panting but giddy with happiness. They danced around the room with the boy's mother and vowed they would never be parted again.

But, alas, times grew hard for the family. When all they had left to eat were a few crusts of bread, the boy suggested they use his magic.

“And take the chance of losing you to the wizard?” cried his father.

“How will he know?” asked the boy. “Listen. I'll turn myself into a magnificent horse for you to sell in the marketplace. After the buyer takes me to his stable, I'll wait until everyone is asleep, then I'll turn myself back into a boy and run home.”

The father wondered if the evil wizard still had power over the boy's mind. “That is trickery,” he said.

“Even if we pay the buyer back?” the boy asked. “As soon as times are better?”

The father didn't like the plan one bit. If there had been any other way to keep his family from starving, he never would have agreed. But when they had eaten their last crust of bread, the boy turned himself into a horse and his father led it to the marketplace.

And who was watching in his magic mirror? The wizard. He quickly made himself look like a wealthy merchant and sped to the marketplace, where he bought the magnificent horse with a bagful of coins.

Then the disguised wizard jumped onto the horse's back and tugged at the reins, guiding the horse down the forest path to the place where it forked. The horse didn't grow suspicious until it was urged to the right. To the right? That was the way to the wizard's hut.

The horse balked. It realized that the man on its back must be the wizard—so it bucked and threw him to the ground. But the wizard jumped up and said a spell to keep the horse from galloping away. Then he turned a branch into a whip and began to lash the horse unmercifully.

The wizard thought he could easily turn the boy into his slave. But his student had learned too much magic. In a flash, the horse became a boy again—only to be turned back into a horse by the wizard, who lashed it over and over. The horse reared up and then came down hard, stamping a hoof right on the wizard's foot. The man grabbed his foot and shrieked. Then the horse turned itself into a boy and turned the whip into a poisonous snake. Before the wizard could collect his wits, the snake had embedded its fangs in his neck. He howled in pain and fell down—dead.

The boy quickly turned the snake back into a whip and snapped it over the wizard's corpse. A swirl of sulfurous smoke rose into the air and the body vanished.

For the first time since the boy had met the wizard, his mind was completely his own. The whole countryside seemed safe from evil powers.

Or was it? The wizard's hut disappeared. But deep in some forest, somewhere, a swirl of vile smoke hovers over a magic mirror. Who knows what
that
foretells?

SOURCES

A STORY TO TELL

From
Fairy and Folk Tales of the Irish Peasantry,
edited and selected by W. B. Yeats (London and New York: Walter Scott, 1888), pp. 90-93.

 
COURTING ASTRIAH

From
Sefer Hasidim
(The Book of the Pious), attributed to Rabbi Judah the Pious. Parma edition, Hebrew manuscript de Rossi 33 (Berlin: Yehuda Wistynezki, 1891).

 
THE SHAGGY GRAY ARM

From
Icelandic Legends
, by Jon Arnason, translated by George E. J. Powell and Eirikur Magnusson (London: Richard Bentley, 1864), pp. 226-28.

THE PRINCE'S FATE

From the Harris Papyrus (No. 500) in the British Museum, about 1300 B.C. Published in
Egyptian Tales
, edited by W. M. Flinders Petrie (London: Methuen & Co. Ltd., 1895; reprint, Mineola, N.Y.: Dover Publications, 1999), pp. 79-87.

 
THE HEADLESS HORSEMAN

From
Fairy Tales and Traditions of the South of Ireland,
by T. Crofton Croker (London: Murray, 1825), pp. 138-52.

 
THE KNIFE

From
Sefer Hasidim
(The Book of the Pious), attributed to Rabbi Judah the Pious. Parma edition, Hebrew manuscript de Rossi 33 (Berlin: Yehuda Wistynezki, 1891).

 
THE WEREWOLF IN THE FOREST

From
Maaseh Buch
(The Book of Tales) (Wilmersdorf and Rodelheim, 1752).

 
THE SECRET

From
Legends of Florence
, retold by Charles Godfrey Leland (New York: Macmillan and Company, 1895), pp. 114-17.

 
THE SEVERED HEAD

From
The Book of the Thousand Nights and a Night,
translated from the Arabic by Sir Richard F. Burton, reprinted from the original edition and edited by Leonard C. Smithers (London: H. S. Nichols & Company, 1897), vol. 1, pp. 41-55.

 
THE DANGEROUS DEAD

From
Strange Stories from a Chinese Studio,
by P'u Sung-ling, completed in 1679, translated by Herbert A. Giles (New York: Paragon Book Gallery Publishers, 1908), pp. 378-80.

 
THE HAUNTED BELL

From
Round a Posada Fire: Spanish Legends
, by Mrs. S. G. C. Middlemore (London: W. Satchell and Co., 1881), pp. 126-46.

 
THE GRUESOME TEST

From
Glimpses of Unfamiliar Japan,
by Lafcadio Hearn (Boston and New York: Houghton Mifflin, 1894), vol. 2, pp. 648-50.

 
THE ENCHANTED CAVE

From
The Alhambra
, by Washington Irving (Paris: Baudry, 1834), pp. 251-78.

 
THE WITCH OF THE WOODS

From
Nifla'ot ha-Tzaddikim
(The Wonders of the Righteous) (Piorkow: 1911).

WISHES GONE AWRY

From
Scenes and Legends of the North of Scotland,
by Hugh Miller, edited by Dr. James Robertson (1835; reprint Edinburgh: B & W Publishing, 1994), pp. 278-90.

 
THE GHOST OF THE RAINBOW MAIDEN

From
Legends of Ghosts and Ghost-Gods
, collected and translated from the Hawaiian by William D. Westervelt (Boston: Ellis Press, 1916), pp. 86-94.

 
THE WIFE'S TALE

From
Strange Stories from a Chinese Studio
, by P'u Sung-ling, completed in 1679, translated by Herbert A. Giles (New York: Paragon Book Gallery Publishers, 1908), pp. 217-23.