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Authors: Various

BOOK: Ask the Bones
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On the third day they saw an island in the distance and their hopes rose. They drifted toward it and soon they managed to touch the ocean floor with their feet. They dragged themselves ashore and stumbled up the beach. There they slept for hours, and when they awoke they thanked God for saving them from drowning.
The merchants began to search the island for food and water. They had little strength, but they struggled up a hill, their feet sinking into the soft sand. They felt like collapsing, until they saw what was on the other side—a castle stood on the far shore of the island.
They hurried down the hill and knocked on the door. But no one answered. So they drank from the clear stream that flowed past the castle and ate figs from the trees that lined its banks.
Then they sat down to wait. Perhaps the owner of the castle would return soon or a ship would sail by. But for days nothing appeared. And when it did, they wished it hadn't.
Far out on the horizon they saw something indescribable coming toward them. At first they thought it was a sea serpent, but soon they realized it was a gigantic horse and rider rising out of the waves.
The merchants were terrified. But it was too late to hide, for the horse was as swift as the wind.
The moment the giant reached the castle, he jumped off the horse and grasped his sword. “How dare you land on my island!” he bellowed.
The merchants told him they were shipwrecked, but the giant only scowled. “Follow me,” he said. And he led all three to the depths of the castle cellar. There he handed them shovels and told them to dig three pits, “deep enough for you to stand in with only your heads above ground.” The merchants were shaking with fear, but they dug the pits because they had no choice.
When they finished, the giant ordered them to put down the shovels and stand in the pits with their arms down at their sides. Then he dumped great handfuls of sand around them and packed it tight. Within minutes, the merchants' bodies were trapped underground, except for their heads.
And then, when the merchants thought nothing worse could possibly happen, the giant let loose an enormous black snake. It circled the room three times, then slithered directly toward the first merchant.
When it reached him, it bit his lip and began to suck his blood. The merchant almost fainted, and the others were petrified, wondering when their time would come.
When the eyes of the first merchant closed and his head fell to one side, the giant laughed and left the cellar.
The snake again circled the room three times and slithered toward the second merchant. All he could do was watch in horror as it bit his lip and sucked his life right out of him.
The third merchant watched the snake circling the room again, and suddenly he had an idea. When the snake slithered up to him, the merchant opened his mouth wide and bit the snake with all his strength. The snake tried to free itself, lashing its tail from side to side until the ground in which the merchant was buried began to loosen. Within moments the merchant was able to work one arm free. He grasped the snake and was pulled right out of the pit. The snake tried to wrap itself around him, but he grabbed a shovel and chopped the snake to bits.
He listened for the giant but didn't hear a sound, so he quickly buried his dead friends and slipped up the stairs. He opened the front door and was horrified to see that same indescribable form on the horizon.
The giant was returning.
The merchant climbed the nearest fig tree and hid in its uppermost branches. Moments later, the giant tied his horse to that very tree.
The merchant listened to the giant stomp down to the cellar, bellow, and race back up again. His footsteps echoed from room to room as he searched for the third merchant, and his sword sang as he slashed the air.
But when he couldn't find him he went outside to rest beneath the fig tree.
The merchant waited until the giant began to snore. Then, holding his breath, he climbed down, grabbed the sword, and plunged it into the giant's heart. For one terrifying moment the giant opened his eyes. Then he died—and the merchant cut off his head for good measure.
The merchant didn't want to stay on that terrible island for another minute. So he mounted the giant's horse and directed it to swim back to Persia. Once he reached home, he never set sail again.
But as long as he lived, the fear of snakes tormented him. He imagined them lurking under every bush and tree, under every rug and chair. And when the night wind whispered through the leaves, he dreamed of huge black snakes slithering into his bed.
The Hand of Death
• A Tale from Mexico •
 
 
 
A
young man put on his finest clothes and his broad-brimmed hat and tucked a dagger beneath his belt. Then he stepped into the street and made his way through the bustling crowds of the city, cursing anyone who blocked his path.
Soon he was hurrying along the road to a nearby village. He'd learned that a girl of unusual beauty lived there with her elderly uncle, the village priest. He was eager to see her.
He followed the road as it wandered between fields and over an arched stone bridge. He paused for a moment to admire his reflection in the river beneath. But fish made ripples on the surface, so he couldn't see his image. In a flash of anger he threw a rock at the fish, then grew angrier still when the rock splashed water on his fine clothes.
He was still grumbling when he reached the village. But when he found the priest's home, his spirits rose. He leaned against the house across the way, watching until the young woman came to her window.
The rays of the setting sun cast a warm glow over the village and onto her face. He had never seen anyone so lovely, and he serenaded her with a full heart.
When he threw a red rose up to her balcony, she drew the rose inside. Its thorny stem pricked her finger but she hardly noticed the pain. Every evening he sang beneath the young woman's window, and her uncle grew worried.
He knew nothing about this young man, so he traveled to the city to see what he could discover. His fellow priests said the young man never came to the cathedral, but they had seen him gambling and drinking late into the night and arguing violently with his friends, even brandishing his dagger.
The village priest was dismayed. He hurried home and told his niece he could never approve of anyone who would bring her such unhappiness.
The next evening the young woman spoke sadly to the young man in the street below. “My uncle insists I stop seeing you,” she said. She returned the last rose he had thrown to her, but he saw that its petals were glistening with her tears.
The young man was furious. Why was the old priest doing this? He returned to the city. He gambled and fought and drank until even his most reckless friends were concerned, but he could not forget the lovely young woman.
Finally he decided to return to the village to see if he could win the priest's approval. He hurried down the road, and when he was halfway across the arched stone bridge, he met the priest himself.
“I can't live without her,” he cried. “I will become as righteous as the holiest of holy men.”
But the priest doubted his sincerity and told him to stay away from his niece. This made the young man so angry that he pulled forth his dagger and thrust it into the priest's head, right there on the bridge. The priest fell, with the dagger still in his skull.
The young man grasped the dagger and tried to pull it out, because his insignia was on the handle for all to see. When he couldn't wrench it loose, he braced his foot against the priest's chest and pulled even harder, but the dagger stuck fast. Even in death, it seemed that the priest was victorious.
The young man was still desperately pulling on the dagger when he heard footsteps coming down the road. He panicked and heaved the body off the bridge and into the water below. Then he rushed back to the city, terrified that the blood and water splashed on his clothes would give him away.
He hid in his house for weeks, fearing every knock on the door. But when no one came to arrest him, he began to drink and gamble with his friends again.
Months later, he decided it would be safe to visit the young woman. He hurried down the road and saw the bridge ahead. But it wasn't until he set foot upon the stones that he was struck with terror.
Standing on the bridge before him was a skeleton with a dagger sticking out of its head.
The last thing the young man ever saw was a hideous skull grinning at him, just inches from his face, and long bony fingers closing around his throat.
The Invisible Guest
• A Tale from Germany •
 
 
 
W
as someone following him? The baron twisted in the saddle, but he could see no one. Yet he heard hoofbeats behind him, mile after mile.

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