it’s too much all at once.

Mom came home from the hospital and was amazed.

“Antek can read. Well, well, what a surprise.”

“The boy’s got character,” his father praised him.

“He’s going to do well in life,” said Grandma.

“Keep learning, son, so no one will mess with you.”

His father didn’t say: “Keep learning, Antek.”

He didn’t say Antek or Kaytek. He said: son.

That’s fine, that’s grand.

Son. Three letters. Ssss – o – nnn.

Now at school Kaytek doesn’t just read fairy tales, but fat books with no pictures too.

He reads a lot. He has even forgotten he ever found reading difficult.

* See Translator’s Afterword.

** The River Vistula is the main river that runs through Warsaw, Poland’s capital city.

Chapter Four

A dragon, a water sprite, and a mermaid –
Occult science – Kaytek wants to be a wizard – Thirteen spells at school

Kaytek reads.

He reads about wars.

About fires.

He reads about countries and people. About animals and about the stars. And about what happens to other people in the world.

And so . . .

It looks as if everything’s fine.

As if he’s getting to know more and more. As if he’s understanding better and better. He almost understands them by now. But not the way he wants to – not everything perfectly. There’s always some mystery.

Until he had some luck. One day there was a lady substituting for the teacher who was sick. The lady was fun. She was happy to give answers. You could ask her precise questions.

Kaytek had been waiting ages for a lesson like this.

Somehow it began with the dragon on Wawel Hill, in the famous legend about Krakus,* the prince who killed it.

“Were there really dragons, or not? How many heads did they have? Did they belch fire? Were there really water sprites and mermaids?”

“There were winged creatures,” explains the lady. “Antediluvian birds. And there were mammoths. There are archeological excavations to prove it.”

“What about a king?” asks Kaytek. “And a page, and a royal squire? Princes and knights? Did the jester have to be a hunchback? Why were there astrologers and alchemists, and Egyptian dream books?”

The lady gives an answer about predictions and fortune tellers.

“Astrologers read the future from the stars. Alchemists made gold, and medicines to cure old age and all diseases.”

Kaytek hears her talk about things like: The philosopher’s stone. Perpetual motion. Occult science.**

He’s been waiting ages for a lesson like this.

“And what about magicians, please miss? And what’s a hypnotist? What about ghosts? Do Gypsies really steal children and sell them to the circus?”

“Wait a minute, not all at once.”

One of the children laughs, as if these are childish questions. But the teacher tells him off sharply and goes on: “So it was, so it is, so it may yet be. There are some things we know, and other things we don’t know. But you shouldn’t laugh.”

After that, it’s as if she’s only talking to Kaytek. She explains so understandingly.

Did the strongmen Samson and Hercules really live? And Madey, the robber chief? And Master Twardowski, the legendary Polish nobleman? And Boruta the devil?*** What’s the difference between a wizard and a sorcerer?

Suddenly . . .

The wretched bell goes. The puppies are leaping to their feet. The bell makes a shrill insistent noise.

“We don’t want a recess!” cries Kaytek. “Please go on talking.”

The teacher smiles.

“Why are you so interested?”

“Because he’s Kaytek, miss, and he smokes like a chimney.”

“Because he wants to be a wizard.”

Kaytek jumps up.

He leaps toward the kid.