THREE

As soon as young Koschei’s father, Koschei Senior, learned about his son’s proclivities, he ordered his minions to put the boy into a barrel, nail it shut, tighten it with braces, waterproof it with tar, and throw it into the ocean so that he couldn’t bring shame to the notoriously evil household. There are no female Koscheis, and baby Koscheis are born emerging from their fathers’ testicles. So Koschei Junior didn’t have a mother, and there was no one to argue with Koschei Senior’s decision.

Koschei lay inside the barrel, looking at the blue sky through the hole between the planks, and wondered if splashing around in the middle of the ocean for an indefinite amount of time would be able to kill him.

He wasn’t sure how much time had passed, but suddenly he spotted odd-looking birds scurrying around his peephole. The birds had naked pink bodies with no feathers on them, and it was hard to understand how they managed to flap their wings and fly given their condition. Because they had red crowns on top of their heads, Koschei realized that they must be chickens.

“Our comrade the duck sent us.” One of the chickens, which was probably the leader, because his comb was the biggest, looked at Koschei through the hole. “She said you might be in trouble. How can we help?”

“I’m hungry,” Koschei said.

The birds gathered and pecked around the peephole to make it bigger. And then Koschei almost didn’t believe his eyes as the biggest chicken twisted his own leg out of the socket and squeezed it through the hole.

“Are you sure?” Koschei verified.

Then he ate it and became full.

“Now what do we do?” the chicken asked him.

“Maybe you can take me to land so I can take care of myself?” Koschei asked, humbly.

The chickens managed to lift the barrel with their beaks and began flying with it across the sky, the ocean left down below.

“We’re sort of far away from anywhere,” the head chicken said. “And now we’re getting hungry from all this flying. Think you can return the favor?”

As the chicken said the words, a pocketknife appeared next to Koschei within the barrel. He knew immediately what to do and used it to cut a chunk of meat from his thigh. It was painful, but Koschei wanted their relationship to be fair. He then pressed the flesh through the hole, and the chickens gobbled it up.

They flew for a couple of days, and whenever the chickens got hungry, Koschei had to cut off slices of himself. He cut into both of his thighs, then his calves, then his buttocks, and even his heels. He kept losing consciousness whenever he leaned on the wounds, so he ended up lying on his stomach. He, too, got hungry throughout their journey, but he didn’t tell the chickens so that he wouldn’t cause them to lose more limbs.

Finally, they reached land and dropped the barrel, which burst open upon impact with the ground.

“Here, let us show you something.” The main chicken led Koschei, who had to walk on tiptoe, to a spring. “This here is vitality water. Watch me.”

The chicken dipped his drumstick stump into the water, and his leg instantly grew back. He then submerged his whole body into the spring, and beautiful, shiny feathers covered his entire frame. The other chickens joined their leader, and also emerged in full plumage, fluffy and dazzling.

“Now it’s your turn,” the chicken told Koschei.

He dipped his heel lightly into the water and felt flesh grow anew.

“Make yourself at home on this island,” the chickens told Koschei and touched his forehead gently with their beaks before flying off.

Left alone, Koschei went to explore the island’s abundant greenery. He encountered some tiny flies who were also talkative and friendly. They introduced him to the local flora and fauna, and explained what berries, weeds, and mushrooms to pick and which to avoid. Koschei wasn’t sure how his life would work out on the island, but that night, sheltered by a wide branch of an oak tree, lulled by food and exciting new friendships, he felt safe.