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Out in the warm, summer night air, all was silent and still. Alice’s heart beat so hard she was sure that someone would hear it. She had not been out past dark since she was very young – due to the threat of the dragon. It was hardly dark out, however. The moon was dazzlingly bright. Dangerously bright. A dragon could spot her from a mile away. For a moment, she considered waiting for a cloudy night. She discarded that thought, however, feeling sure that it was

now or never. As she approached the meadow where she grazed her

goats, she whistled and waited, crouching in the shadow of her boulder, which seemed strange and unearthly in the moonlight. A familiar croak met her ears as Brend flew to her outstretched arm. Alice patted him on his silky back and scratched him under his bird chin.

“Alright Brend, let’s find the wizard.”

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Alice ran over the lake of moon-bathed meadow, as Brend flew behind her. Their long shadows glided over the ground behind them like specters giving ghostly chase.

After what seemed like an eternity of running in fear of being seen by the dragon, Alice and Brend finally reached the forest in safety. The trees loomed up in front of her now, and she quailed. She had never before been so near the forest, let alone actually entered it. The trees were very tall and very black and very foreboding. Alice entered on a small path that wound into the forest until it disappeared. Brend flew in after her. Somehow, having the raven as her friend made her less afraid. Without the moon shining over her head, it was almost completely dark, and Alice had to rely on the path not to lead her astray. She chided herself for not bringing a lantern.

Alice wondered if the wizard was watching her even now, and if he would cast a spell on her before she could explain herself. After about fifteen minutes of walking, Alice thought she saw a light up ahead in the trees. It looked very much like faerie light. She wondered if this was where all the faeries went on nights that they weren’t making mischief in homes. Alice didn’t have

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long to wait. She was soon standing with Brend on her shoulder at the edge of a wide clearing, ablaze with light. A fantastic sight met her eyes.

In the very middle of the clearing, there was a low thatched house with a very large squat door in the middle with huge iron hinges and a brass door knocker. There was a chimney on top, and there was smoke coming from the chimney – blue smoke. In the front of the house was a fire, and on the fire was a cauldron. Alice could only guess what things brewed there. By the side of the house was a small vegetable garden. Next to the front door of the house was a rocking-chair – rocking. No one appeared to be in the chair.

But what really caught Alice’s eyes were the faeries. Hundreds of them. Apparently, this is why everything had seemed so quiet at her home. They were all here. There was a large

faerie-ring in front of the low house with fungi of every shape and color in a circle around it. The faerie-folk were playing games in it. It seemed to be a version of musical chairs – or mushrooms – and tag, though Alice was not sure that any of the faeries really knew what they were playing. They were shrieking and laughing and fighting and making all sorts of

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noise. Alice watched them in fascination while Brend crouched low on her shoulder as if unsure what to think of the bright beings. Alice had never seen them when she was wide awake.

Her attention was soon diverted, however, by the appearance of an old man who emerged from the door of the cottage. Alice guessed this must be Bjorn. He looked every bit a wizard if ever a wizard there was. He was not terribly tall, but rather stooped-looking with a long grey beard as all wizards should have, and a long robe as all wizards should also have. A pair of spectacles balanced precariously on his long thin nose, through which a pair of keen blue eyes peered suspiciously. He was not wearing a pointed hat, as Alice thought he should, for all wizards do, but she soon spied it on the ground by the rocking rocking-chair. Half a dozen faeries sat on it or swung from the pointed tip.

Bjorn shuffled over to the cauldron and stirred it with a wooden spoon. He sprinkled in a suspicious looking powder. Alice was sure it was a potion meant for some evil on the townspeople. She had to put a stop to it. But just as she had mustered up the courage to step into the clearing, Bjorn had an outburst.

“Alright!” he shouted toward the rambunctious faeries. “Pipe down, I tell you, or I’ll trample your funguses – fungi.” He paused for a moment as if confused.

The faeries only laughed, and one of them ran over and kicked the old man’s foot. He must have had a terribly hard foot, because the faerie yelped in pain and hopped away, holding his sore toe, while all the others roared with laughter.

“That’ll teach him to sauce me,” said Bjorn, grumbling to himself. “Rambunctious little fools.” He went on for some time about the foolishness of faeries, all the while adding tidbits of this and that to his cauldron.

Finally, Alice decided that she could not wait any longer. It was now or never. With determined steps, she marched into the clearing and stood, legs planted wide, arms akimbo, fists on her

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hips, and Brend perched menacingly on her shoulder. Everything in the clearing went silent for a moment. The faeries froze mid-frolic, and Bjorn peered at her from over his spectacles with a look akin to bewilderment.

He stared at her very hard for a moment. “If you’re seeking employment, I have all the elves I need. Besides, you are absurdly large for an elf.” He turned back to his brew.

“I am not an elf,” said Alice indignantly. “I am a girl.”Bjorn’s eyes flew back to her, and he marched up to her, his

blue eyes blazing over the top of his spectacles as he bent over her. “What are you doing here?” he growled. “You murderous townsfolk aren’t allowed in my forest.”

Alice squared her little shoulders and stuck up her

nose. “This isn’t your forest, Bjorn,” she said. “And we didn’t kill Pip!”

“Oh, you’re on first name basis with the victim are you, little girl?”

“No, but we didn’t kill him. The dragon did, I’m sure of it.” The old wizard seemed to consider this for a moment before

shaking his grey head. “No, no, I’m sure it was one of you people.”

Alice stamped her foot. “It was the dragon, I tell you! They just eat, eat, eat, anything in sight!” Bjorn huffed and shuffled back to his fire.

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“And if you weren’t so busy being old and cranky, and, and blind, you would see that!”

Bjorn muttered something about “that arrogant little imp” but he turned to her again. “So,” he said darkly. “You have come here to see Bjorn the Bear, the great Wizard of the Wood. Why?” he started to approach her again. All the faeries giggled darkly, rubbing their little hands together with glee.

Alice’s heart jumped a little, but she was determined not to let Bjorn see how scared she was.

Brend hissed at the wizard. Bjorn started and for a moment just stared at the raven

blankly. It seemed he had not noticed it before on Alice’s shoulder, as his black feathers blended in with her wild hair.

“A raven,” he mused. “His name is Brend,” said Alice taking the opportunity to

shift the wizard’s scrutiny away from herself.Brend glared at the wizard. “I have tamed him and brought him to you as a replacement

for Pip, hoping you will stop being mean to us.” Bjorn mumbled something about “the presumptuous imp” but made no comment. “How old are you, girl?” he asked.

“Eight and five months,” she answered confidently. “Look me in the face, girl.”Alice looked.“Extraordinary,” he said, staring very hard. Alice shifted

uneasily under his scrutiny. He pinched her chin between two boney fingers and turned her head from side to side. He looked at her blackly for a moment.

“Did those meddling villagers send you?” he growled. “Thinking they could just go bribe a young, naïve, unsuspecting wizard to come and play her little unpracticed tricks – beat me at my own game… those mischief-mongering, disrespectful fools. How much did they pay you?”

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“No one sent me!” cried Alice, trying very hard to break him out of his rant. “I just came here on my own. I don’t know of any other wizards.”

“You mean to tell me that you are unaware of the fact that you are a wizard?” said Bjorn incredulously.

Alice’s eyes grew to an impossible size. She stared at the wizard in dumbfounded silence. “I…I am not a wizard,” she said trembling. “I am just a girl; my parents own goats, and I look after them.”

Bjorn burst out laughing. Alice jumped, and Brend fled to the trees with a squawk at the sound.

“Well, this is a new twist,” he said. “I have here a young wizard who thinks she is just a normal girl bringing her pet to appease me.” Bjorn chuckled again and shuffled back to the neglected cauldron.

“But I am just a girl! I really am!” Alice was alarmed and becoming more and more unsure.

“Come here, girl,” he snapped. Alice scurried forward, unable to refuse; Brend flew down to

her shoulder as if to supervise the situation.“Do as I do,” Bjorn said. He held his hand over the cauldron

and spoke a word that Alice did not recognize. The spoon started stirring the brew by itself. Bjorn stopped the spoon.

He motioned for Alice to try.Alice spoke the words hesitantly with her hand over the

cauldron. The spoon started making nervous, shaky, circles in the liquid. Alice yanked her had away and jumped back, shaking and wide-eyed. Brend croaked with alarm.

Bjorn chuckled. “See,” he said. “I told you. You have wizard’s blood in you if ever someone did.”

Alice was mute with shock. How could it possibly be? She was a wizard? Impossible!

“Well!” announced Bjorn loudly, breaking Alice from her thoughts. “Let me take a look at this peace-offering of yours.”

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Alice patted Brend on the head as he sat on her arm. She was trying very hard to recover from her own shock that it was difficult to start even thinking about giving Brend up.

Bjorn plucked Brend off Alice’s shoulder in one swift motion taking both girl and bird off guard. Brend shrieked in protest, biting at the wizard’s gnarled hands. Alice cried out, grabbing at her bird and pleading with the wizard to be careful with him.

Bjorn sniffed the bird, holding his wings down and turning him over. Brend’s little stick-like legs pumped the air, trying to grab hold of anything. Bjorn then proceeded to pluck a feather from the bird’s belly. He twirled it in his fingers and tossed it away.

“Hmm,” he said. “I think he will do just fine. I have been needing extract of raven for some time now for a potion I am working on.”

Alice screamed in rage and protest, telling Bjorn to return him and that she had changed her mind about giving him up. Bjorn said it was too late for that, and Alice burst into the best eight-year-old crocodile-tears that she could muster. She did not use this tactic very often, in fact she thought of herself as too grown up for it, but she decided that if ever she needed the tears, now was the time. Bjorn glanced around looking very uncomfortable for a moment. The faeries had started to gather to watch the performance – some of them pulling up toadstools to sit on.

“Alright, alright, stop!” said the wizard thrusting Brend back into Alice’s arms. The raven nipped at his finger once more before assuming his position on Alice’s shoulder to smooth his ruffled feathers.

“You may keep him on one condition,” he said.Alice scowled at him suspiciously, tears still pooling in her

grey eyes.“You must come here and help me with my work. You also

are in desperate need of training.”

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“And you will stop your tricks?”“Yes,”Alice held Brend close, looking at the ground, thinking hard.“Alright,” she agreed. “I am not allowed in the woods, so I

will have to come at night,”Bjorn agreed, saying that he didn’t sleep much anyway.