One By Night and Other Collected Tales

The Stone Fairy

"Open wide, little William, and let me see the gap in your smile where the stone what dropped out," the village crone said, poking a bony, arthritic finger toward his mouth.

"Do as she says, William," his mother prodded, wrapping an arm about her son to bolster his bravery. Yet for all of that, it seemed his lips were glued firmly shut, as though plastered with a homemade mix of flour and water, or perhaps a generous dollop of honey. Could this be the case?

The crone adjusted the spectacles upon her craggy nose and peered closely at him. He, in turn, hoisted his pointed chin even more stubbornly than before, mouth still a firm, flat line.

"Child," she asked, "did you stick your lips shut to ward off the Stone Fairy? You know she'll only steal the stones remaining in the maw of a child who fails to make a proper offering of the one what's dropped, don't ye? Oft times, she'll even leave a sweet or a coin behind in her passing."

Waves of confusion and hesitation washed over William's angular, pixie-like features. He furrowed his brow and began working his jaw muscles, as though chewing, though his mouth was empty.

The crone laughed, clapping her hands. "My boy, you have naught to fear. Allow me." With that, she reached into one of the many pockets of the apron draped over her patchwork dress. "This ought make short work of it," she said, showing him a slim-bladed knife roughly the length of his third finger, and a stumpy, brownish root.

William's amber eyes widened. Did she plan to slice his mouth open?

But no. The knife, she applied to the tip of the root, much in the manner his mother skinned carrots by the stove. A pungent odor emanated from it once the meat of it lay exposed.

"Ye'll like neither the smell nor the taste of this one, but it's for your own good," she admonished, rubbing the now-juicy tip of the root all over his lips.

Laughter bubbled up in William's throat, as he recalled his mother rouging her lips for special occasions. Amused snorts escaped his upturned button nose.

"There now, my boy, open wide, else I'll plug up your nose and your ears 'til you do!" The crone ordered, her beaming smile belying her kindness.

With a little help from the pokes of his pointed tongue, he managed at last to open his mouth. With pride, he displaying the gap at the front of his smile, willingly parting with the tooth he'd been clenching in his fisted hand.

"Well done, young Sir William. Ye'd not be wanting to anger the Stone Fairy. She's a wicked sort once you've run afoul of her, with her rattling necklaces made o' all the stones she's taken, her gray eyes so filmy with age, she can only find wee ones like yerself, by smell an' by feel. Imagine those pale an' spidery fingers gettin' a hold o' ye in the dark! Enough to curdle the blood!"