The Halcyon Fairy Book

by T. Kingfisher

  I am fortified with head-scratches … apparently …

  The princess, quivering with fright, crouched down behind the rock and Three Bottles, mounting his horse, rode boldly down to the water’s edge awaiting the serpent’s coming.

  It came nearer and nearer in long easy swirls, slowly lifting its three scaly heads one after another. As it approached shore it sniffed the air hungrily. “Fee, fi, fo, fum!” it muttered in a deep voice, repeating the magic rime it had learned from its evil mother, Suyettar:

  “Fee, fi, fo, fum!

  I smell some yum, yum!

  I’ll fall on him with a thud!

  I’ll pick his bones and drink his blood!

  Fee, fi, fo, fum! Yum! Yum!”

  I can only guess that “Fee fi fo fum” is the monster equivalent of one of those old traditional tunes that everybody keeps putting new lyrics to. Or maybe it’s like how Emily Dickenson all scans to “The Yellow Rose of Texas.”

  “Stop boasting, son of Suyettar!” Three Bottles cried. “You’ll have time enough to boast after you fight.”

  “Fight?” repeated the serpent as if in surprise. “Shall we fight, pretty boy, you and I? Very well! Blow then with your sweet breath, blow out a long level platform of red copper whereon we can meet and try our strength each with the other!”

  “Nay,” answered Three Bottles. “You blow, and instead of red copper we shall have a platform of black iron.”

  Oh, this is marvelous fairy tale detail. Head-scratches … little off, but blowing the platforms is just the thing.

  So the serpent blew and on the iron platform that came of his breath, Three Bottles met him in combat. Back and forth they raged, Three Bottles striking right and left with his mighty sword, the serpent hitting at Three Bottles with all his scaly heads and belching forth fire and smoke from all his mouths. Three Bottles whacked off one scaly head and at last a second one, but he was unable to touch the third.

  “I shall have to have help,” he acknowledged to himself finally, and reaching down he took one of his shoes and threw it over his shoulder back to his comrades who were awaiting the outcome of the struggle. At once they loosed the dog which bounded forward to its master’s assistance, and soon with the dog’s help Three Bottles was able to dispatch the last head.

  Go, dog!

  He was faint now with weariness and his comrades had to help him back to the old woman’s hut where he soon fell asleep.

  She’s a quest-giver, an encyclopedia, and a bed & breakfast. This woman does everything. Forget the princess, marry her.

  Night passed and dawn appeared. A great cry of relief and thanksgiving went up from all the earth. “The dawn! The dawn!” people cried. “God bless the man who has released the dawn!”

  Only at the castle was there sorrow still.

  “My poor oldest daughter!” the king cried with tears in his eyes. “It was my sacrifice of her that has released the dawn!”

  Then he called his servants and gave them orders to gather up his daughter’s bones and to bring back the leather sack.

  “We shall need it again tonight,” he said.

  I may be the king and have a huge castle and all, but leather sacks aren’t cheap!

  He wiped his eyes and for a moment could say no more. “Yes, tonight we shall have to sew up my second daughter and offer her to the six-headed serpent, him that holds captive the moon. Otherwise the monster will devour half my kingdom, half the castle, and half the shining stones. Ai! Ai! Ai!”

  But the servants when they went to the high rock on the seashore found, not the princess’ bones, but the princess herself, sitting there with her chin in her hand, gazing down on the beach which was strewn with the fragments of the three-headed serpent.

  “Sure, the serpent’s dead. But where’s that nice man I gave head-scratches to? Was I not supposed to scratch on the first date? Is he going to call?”

  They led her back to her father and reported the marvel they had seen.

  “There, king, lies the monster on the sand with all his heads severed! So huge are the heads that it would need three men with derricks to move one of them!”

  “Some unknown hero has rescued my oldest daughter!” the king cried.

  “Actually, he said his name was Thr — ”

  “I SAID, some unknown hero has rescued my oldest daughter!”

  “Would that another might come tonight to rescue my second child likewise! But, alas! what hero is strong enough to destroy the six-headed monster?”

  So when evening came they sewed the second princess in the sack and carried her out to the rock. Log and his companions saw the procession move down from the castle and they saw that the castle was again disturbed, one half of it laughing and one half weeping.

  “It’s the second princess tonight,” the old woman told them. “Unless her father, the king, gives her to the six-headed serpent, the monster will come and eat half the kingdom, half the castle, and half the shining stones. He it is that holds the moon captive and the hero that slays him will release the moon.”

  Yeah, yeah, we get it. It’s a pretty straightforward mathematical progression. Three, six, Log.

  I’m getting kind of curious about the shining stones, though. What are they? Are they like the magic rocks in Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom? How do they work?

  Then he whom his comrades called Six Bottles cried out, “Here is work for me!”

  He drank bottle after bottle of the strong waters until he had emptied six. “Now I am ready!” he shouted.

  He then staggered four steps, vomited in a heroic fashion, drunk-dialed several exes, and then Log cleared his throat a few times and Six Bottles got the hint.

  He mounted his mighty horse and as he rode off he called to his comrades, “If I need help I’ll throw back a shoe and then you unleash my dog!”

  He rode to the rock on the shore and dismounted. Then he climbed the rock and released the second princess. He told her who he was and as they awaited the arrival of the six-headed serpent he lay at the princess’ feet and she scratched his head.

  This might actually be less weird if it’s a euphemism, but I kinda think she’s really scratching his head.

  This time the serpent came in six mighty swirls with six awful heads that reared up one after another. In terror the second princess hid behind the rock while Six Bottles, mounting his horse, rode boldly down to the water’s edge.

  Like his brother serpent this one, too, came sniffing the air hungrily, muttering the magic rime he had learned from his mother, wicked Suyettar:

  “Fee, fi, fo, fum!

  I smell some yum, yum!

  I’ll fall on him with a thud!

  I’ll pick his bones and drink his blood!

  Fee, fi, fo, fum! Yum!Yum!”

  “Stop boasting!” Six Bottles cried. “You will have time enough to boast after you fight!”

  “Fight?” repeated the serpent scornfully. “Shall we fight, little one, you and I? Very well! Blow then with your sweet breath, blow out a long level platform of white silver whereon we can meet and try our strength one with the other.”

  “No,” answered Six Bottles. “You blow instead, and let it be a platform of red copper.”

  Elegant! Unlike the poetry!

  So the serpent blew and on the copper platform that came of his breath Six Bottles met him in combat. Back and forth they raged, Six Bottles striking left and right with his mighty sword, the serpent hitting at Six Bottles with every one of his six scaly heads and belching forth fire and smoke from all his mouths. Six Bottles whacked off one head, then another, then another. At last he had disposed of five heads. He tried hard to strike the last, but by this time the serpent had grown wary and Six Bottles’ own strength was waning. So he reached down and took one of his shoes and threw it over his shoulder back to his comrades who were awaiting the outcome of the struggle. At once they loosed the dog which bounded forward to its master’s assistance. Soon, with the dog’s help Six Bottles was able to di
spatch the last head.

  These are awesome dogs. My beagle would bay hysterically, wet himself, and the best I could hope for is that one of the heads would choke to death on him.

  Then I’d be sad. And no amount of head-scratches would help.

  Then his comrades led him, weary from the fight, to the old woman’s hut, and soon he fell asleep.

  While he slept, the moon appeared in the sky and a great cry of relief and thanksgiving went up from all the world, “The moon! The moon! God bless the man who has released the moon!”

  The king was awakened by the sound and looked out the castle window. When he saw the moon had returned to its place in the sky, his eyes overflowed with grief. “My poor second daughter!” he cried. “It was my sacrifice of her that has released the moon! Tomorrow morning I will send the servants to gather up her bones and to bring back the leather sack into which, alas! I must then sew my youngest daughter for the nine headed serpent. Ai! Ai! Ai! How sad it is to be a father!”

  THERE WILL BE NO HEAD-SCRATCHES FOR ANYONE.

  But on the morrow when the servants went to the rock they found the second princess sitting there alone gazing down on the scattered fragments of the six-headed serpent.

  “Here she is, safe and sound!” they reported to the king as they led the second princess to him. And, marvel of marvels! on the beach below the rock lies the body of the six-headed serpent torn to pieces! Its heads, king, are so monstrous that six men with derricks could scarcely move one of them!”

  Derricks? Where’d they get derricks? Is this an oil-rich country?

  “God be praised!” the king cried. “Another unknown hero has come and saved the life of my second child! Would that a third might come tonight and rescue my youngest child! Alas, she is dearer to me than both the others,

  We are standing RIGHT HERE, Dad.

  but I fear me that even if there be heroes who could dispatch the first two serpents, there is never one who can touch him of the nine heads that holds the mighty sun a captive!”

  And the poor king wept, so sure was he that nothing could save the life of his youngest child.

  When Log and his companions heard of the king’s grief, Log at once stood forth and said, “This last and mightiest battle is for me!” He opened the strong waters and drank bottle after bottle till he had emptied nine. “Now let night come as soon as it will!” he cried. “I am ready for the monster!”

  Log has a liver made of oak and is thus only slightly tipsy.

  He started forth, telling his comrades he would throw back a shoe if he needed help from his dog.

  So it was Log himself who slashed open the sack for the third time and released the youngest princess who was much more beautiful than her sisters. She fell in love with the mighty hero on first sight and was so thrilled with his godlike beauty

  Hang on, when did he go from log-like to godlike? Nobody mentioned that Log was a studmuffin. We covered good, strong, kind and gentle, but nobody said he was pretty.

  that when he put his head in her lap she hardly knew what to do —

  It’s okay, baby. True Log Waits.

  — although her father always declared that she scratched his head much better than either of her sisters.

  Oh god, no. Just no. I don’t even know what … no. Just … ewww. I mean, it’s a sad day when the BEST possible explanation is head-lice.

  They had not long to wait for soon all the sea was a glitter with the swirls of the ninefold monster who was coming to shore with the captive sun in his keeping.

  “Wait for me behind the rock!” Log cried to the princess as he leapt on his horse and started forward. “Be careful!” the princess cried after him.

  Nearer and nearer came the swirls of the nine-coiled monster. One after another of his nine heads rose and fell as he approached, and every head sniffed more hungrily as it came nearer, and each head rumbled as it sniffed:

  “Fee, fi, fo, fum!

  I smell some yum, yum!

  I’ll fall on him with a thud!

  I’ll pick his bones and drink his blood!

  Fee, fi, fo, fum! Yum! Yum!”

  Does Log even have blood? What is the serpent smelling, anyway? Sap?

  Is this actually an extemporaneous song about what the serpent is experiencing, or is this the monster equivalent of the football fight song? Does our side get a fight song?

  Log, Log, he’s our log!

  If he can’t do it, we’ll send in the dog!

  “Stop boasting!” Log cried. “You will have time enough to boast after you fight!”

  “Fight?” roared the awful monster. “Shall we fight, poor infant, you and I? Very well! Then blow out a long level platform of shining gold. On it, we can meet and try our strength each with the other!”

  “No!” Log answered. “You blow. And instead of shining gold we shall have a platform of white silver.”

  So the monster blew and on the silver platform that came of his breath Log met him in combat. Back and forth they raged, Log striking right and left with his mighty sword, the serpent hitting at Log with all his nine scaly heads and belching forth fire and smoke from all his nine mouths. Log whacked off head after head until six lay gaping on the sand. But the last three he could not get.

  Suddenly he pointed behind the serpent and cried, “Quick! Quick! The sun!”

  Log is surprisingly cunning for a were-tree.

  The serpent looked around and Log whacked off a head. Now only two remained, but try as he would Log could get neither of them. Again he tried a subterfuge.

  “Your wife! See, over there, they’re abusing her!”

  The monster looked and Log whacked off another head.

  Wait — hang on — time out. This is … actually, that’s sort of not-cool of Log, and sort of sweet of the serpent to go, “What? Where? Honey! Are you okay?” This is the only even remotely nice thing we see out of a serpent, and y’know, it puts them in a whole new light, really.

  But one now remained and as usual it was the hardest of them all to get. Log felt his strength waning while the monster seemed more nimble than ever.

  “I shall have to have help,” Log thought.

  He threw back his shoe to his comrades and they at once loosed his dog.

  He’s very reluctant to call in the dog. I suppose when you’re a were-tree, you have a different sort of relationship to dogs and their … habits.

  With the dog’s help Log was soon able to dispatch the last head. Then Three Bottles and Six Bottles helped him off his horse and supported him to the old woman’s hut where he soon fell into a deep sleep.

  The next morning the blessed sun rose at his proper time and people all over the world fell on their knees with thanksgiving, and weeping with joy they cried out, “The sun! The sun! God bless the man who has released the sun!”

  At the castle they woke up the king with the good news but the king only shook his head and murmured in grief, “Yes, the sun is released but what do I care now that my youngest daughter has been sacrificed!”

  Hello? Two living daughters over here! And the farmers in the kingdom are probably pretty happy about that photosynthesis thing happening again.

  He dispatched the servants to gather up her bones. They returned bringing the princess herself and telling a marvelous tale of the beach littered with nine severed heads so huge that it would need nine men with derricks to move one of them.

  “What manner of heroes are these who have rescued my daughters!” cried the king. “Let them come forth and I will give them my daughters for wives and half my riches for dowry! But they will have to prove themselves the actual heroes by bringing to the castle the heavy heads of the monsters they have slain.”

  When Log and his fellows heard this, they laughed with happiness and, strengthening themselves with deep draughts of the strong waters, they gathered together the many heads of the mighty serpents, bore them to the castle, and piled them up at the king’s feet. Then Log stepped forward and said: “Here we are, come
to claim our reward!”

  Three Bottles and Six Bottles were staggering a bit and thought it was best to let Log talk.

  The king, true to his promise, gave them his daughters in marriage, the oldest to Three Bottles, the second to Six Bottles, and the youngest to Log. Then he apportioned them the half of his riches and, after much feasting and merrymaking, the heroes took their brides and their riches and bidding the king farewell started homeward.

  As they rode through a great forest, they sighted a tiny hut. Log motioned his comrades to wait for him quietly, as he crept forward to see who was in the hut. It was well he was cautious for inside the hut was Suyettar herself talking to two other old hags.

  The most impressive thing about this is that the old woman didn’t have to tell him to do it.

  “Ay,” she was saying, “they have slain my three beautiful sons, my mighty offspring that held captive the sun and the moon and the dawn! But I tell you, sisters, they will pay the penalty. … ”

  To hear better, Log changed himself into a piece of firewood and slipping inside the hut hid himself in the woodpile near the stove.

  Holy crap, TIME OUT AGAIN.

  I was mostly joking about the were-wood thing! You’re telling me that in addition to godlike beauty, all around boy-scoutness, he can turn himself into firewood?

  This is … potentially a rather dangerous talent, now that I think of it. “Hey, Martha, throw another log on the — Oh! Log! I didn’t realize you were … hiding in the woodpile … like a weirdo … ”

  We do not learn nearly enough of Log’s childhood. Did he hide in the woodpile to avoid spankings? Did he turn into firewood on the playground when embarrassed? This is rich story territory, people!

  “Ay, they will pay the penalty!” Suyettar repeated. “I shall have my revenge on them! A fine supper Suyettar shall soon have, yum, yum!

  “I’ll fall on them with a thud!

  “I’ll pick their bones and drink their blood!

  “Fools, fools, to think they can escape Suyettar’s anger!”

  Hey, that didn’t rhyme …

  “But sister, sister,” the two old hags asked, “how will you get them?” Suyettar looked this way and that to make sure that no one was listening.