Ask the Bones (8 page)

But the eagle behaved just as oddly as the fish. It begged for its life, offering Ivan a feather which he could burn if he needed the eagle. So Ivan released the great bird.

Needed an eagle?

Ivan would have laughed out loud if he weren't so uneasy. He felt that eerie tingling again, raising the hairs on the back of his neck.

Again he spun around, searching for whoever was watching him. Again he saw no one.

But when he dipped a cupful of water from the stream and lifted it to his lips, he saw that awful eye staring at him intently from the bottom of the cup.

Ivan threw it on the ground and kicked it. He hid behind a tree. When he finally dared to retrieve his cup, the horrible eye had disappeared.

Ivan no longer walked on the trail that was winding its way up to the castle. He stayed off to one side, darting from tree to tree, hoping to hide from the eye that seemed to be following him wherever he went.

But he was getting hungrier by the moment. And when he saw a fox crossing a clearing, he pulled forth his bow and arrow.

“Don't shoot,” cried the fox. “Someday you will need me. If you burn a tuft of hair from my chin, I will come.”

Ivan hardly dared touch that tuft of hair. He knew what had happened when he touched the fish scale and the feather, but how could he refuse help? He had never been on such a strange journey, and he had no idea what he might encounter next.

So he plucked a tuft of hair from the fox's chin. And even before his neck started tingling, he saw the cruel eye reflected in the shining eye of the fox.

But when he looked over his shoulder, he caught only a glimpse of that eye before it vanished.

Ivan was about to run home, but how could he? He was a brave hunter, a future prince. He would follow that trail all the way to the castle, marry the princess, and live in luxury for the rest of his life.

When he finally reached the palace, he was led inside to meet the princess. “You're a fool to think you can hide from me,” she said, “but you may try. I will look for you in the morning.”

The hunter stared at her. Somehow she looked familiar. “Stop staring,” she said, stamping her foot. And she ordered him out of the throne room.

The hunter raced far from the palace and burned the eagle's feather. “Hide me!” he shouted. Moments later the eagle grasped the hunter with its mighty talons and flew to a distant mountain that pierced the sky. There it dropped the hunter into its nest and covered him with its wings.

In the morning the princess pulled out her magic spyglass. It sent her eye wherever she looked. She could see everything on the earth, under the water and up in the sky. She could see her suitors, wherever they hid.

She pointed her spyglass out the window and looked for the hunter. Her eye roamed over the earth and under the water. It didn't see him. But when it traveled across the sky, it noticed two hairs of the hunter's fur hat peeking out from under the eagle's wings.

When the hunter returned to the palace, he was already dreaming of meat pies and purple robes.

But the princess mocked him. “I saw you in the eagle's nest,” she said. “You have only two more chances to hide.”

The hunter was shocked. He'd heard rumors about her spyglass, but he had no idea it was so powerful. He hurried to the sea and burned the fish's silver scale. “Come help me!” he cried.

The fish immediately swam to shore, along with a huge shark. It told the shark to swallow the hunter whole and swim to the very depths of the ocean. But later the shark opened its mouth to eat a smaller fish—at the very moment the magic spyglass sent the princess's eye beneath the waves. And there, between the shark's pointed teeth, it glimpsed one thread of the hunter's coat.

The hunter was sure no one could have seen him hidden in a shark's belly at the bottom of the sea, but when he entered the throne room, the princess laughed at him. “I saw you inside the shark,” she said. “If you can't find a better hiding place tonight, your head will roll across the court-yard tomorrow.”

The hunter was beginning to fear that she might be right. Now he realized with horror where he'd seen her cruel eyes—in the wave at the beach and in the cup in the forest. But he rushed outside, determined to try again. He burned the fox's hair and called for help.

The fox bounded to his side. “Fear not,” it said, and it led him into a tunnel it had dug under the palace. The hunter crawled after the fox until they reached a spot directly under the princess's room. They could hear her footsteps overhead. When morning came they heard her walk over to the window. At first all was silent. Then she began talking to herself. “Not in the sky,” she said. And a little later, “Not in the ocean.” Later yet she shouted,
“Not on the earth?”
That's when she threw her spyglass against the wall and smashed it into a thousand pieces.

“I'm safe,” cried the hunter.

He was thanking the fox for saving him when he heard the angry princess stamping her foot on the floor above his head.
Crack!
Her leg came down through a rotten board over the tunnel. She pulled her leg out and peered through the jagged hole with those cold, cruel eyes.

“I found you!” she said.

 

 

 

L
ong ago in China there lived an old man with a heart of stone. He drove away every beggar who came to his door.

The old man and his wife lived by themselves, for they had no children. Nor did they have servants, because the old man hated to pay anyone.

In time, his wife grew so feeble she had to have help. At first the old man was angry. “Why can't you do what you have always done?” he grumbled. But his wife couldn't manage, no matter how hard she tried. Finally the old man decided he would never get his meals on time unless he hired a servant girl, so at last he did.

The girl tried her best to serve her master faithfully, but she soon found that nothing she did pleased the old man. The crack of his whip was heard throughout the house, and night after night he beat the girl so badly that she fell asleep crying. The old man's wife heard the pitiful cries, but she said nothing and did nothing, for she was afraid of her husband.

All of the old man's neighbors called him “Cruel One,” and even the saints and gods heard of his evil ways. They wanted to test him, so one of the gods turned himself into a barefooted beggar and went to the old man's door.

“Master of the house!” he called out. “Please bring me something to eat. I am starving.”

It happened that only the servant girl was home that morning. She felt sorry for the miserable beggar, and she gave him a bag of rice that she had gleaned for herself from the rice straw that she burned in the stove.

“Take this rice,” she said, “but hurry away before my master comes back. There will be trouble if he sees you here. He is evil.”

The beggar took the bag of rice and thanked the girl for her kindness. In return, he gave her a handkerchief. It looked like a humble gift, but a god in disguise can give a present that is far more remarkable than it seems. “Wash your face with this magic cloth every day,” he told her, “but be sure no one else ever uses it.”

The girl slipped it under her sash, just in time, as the old man and his wife returned. Her master was so furious to find a beggar at their door that he chased him away with a stick. Then he beat the servant girl for not driving the beggar away.

The girl fled to her room to wash away her tears with the magic handkerchief. Not only did the pain mysteriously vanish, but she grew more beautiful.

The old man wondered why the servant girl looked prettier each day despite the beatings. “Tell me your secret,” he demanded.

But the girl didn't want to tell him about the handkerchief, for she knew he would beat her even harder if he learned about the rice she had given to the beggar. And what if he took the handkerchief away?

The girl endured her beatings silently, but one day she forgot and pulled forth the soothing handkerchief while her master's eyes were still upon her. He tore it out of her hands and insisted that she tell him everything. And when he learned that the beggar had given her the handkerchief after she had given him rice, the old man said the handkerchief belonged to him. “Everything in this house belongs to me, including the rice you gave away and the handkerchief you got in return.”

“But the beggar said no one else should use it,” the servant girl cried. He paid no attention.

When the girl wept that night, she had nothing to wash away her tears and pain. Nor could she sleep, for she had failed to keep her handkerchief safe. What if her master used it? Would her luck turn even worse?

The next morning the old man hurried to the washbasin so he could use the handkerchief himself. He wanted his looks to improve as much as the servant girl's, so he washed his face repeatedly. But each time he lowered the magic handkerchief, his wife's eyes opened wider. He thought she was impressed to see him become so handsome.

In truth, her eyes were wide with horror, for she saw what the magic handkerchief had done. But as always, she said nothing.

The old man handed the handkerchief to her. “I want a beautiful wife,” he said. “Use it.”

She held it between two fingertips as if it might bite her.

“What are you waiting for?” he shouted, picking up the whip he used on the servant girl.

His wife, who had never disobeyed him before, dropped the handkerchief and hurried out of the room. He could not understand her odd behavior. But when he stooped to pick up that handkerchief, he saw before him a clawed and hairy hand.

He rushed to the mirror. Staring back at him was a strange beast with bloodshot eyes, sharp fangs, and matted hair.