“If I am a witch, then what are you? Mr uses-a-magic-stone-to-transform-an-old-chicken-into-a-young-girl-just-to-fuck-her? Does that not smack of sorcery a teensy bit? Does summoning all of this out of nowhere…” she gestured to the grand castle and grounds “…not constitute some form or wizardry?” Aniello the cockerel looked around with rapid head movements that chickens do, in a shifty kind of way that suggested don’t-know-who-you’re-talking-to-nothing-but-a-cockerel-here and said no more. He then began to scratch the ground and peck at it.

Rachel shook her head in exasperated disbelief before shouting “Aniello! Hoy Aniello, come take this creature away!” Aniello the cockerel looks up, not really understanding what’s going on. What, or rather who should he see coming out of the castle doors but… another Aniello! The cockerel looks at Rachel then the approaching Aniello, back to Rachel, back to Aniello! “What creature my love?” enquires the new Aniello. “This one!” she gesticulates harshly at the cockerel Aniello, who now is caught in a kind of stunned inertia.

Oh cockerelo, cockerelo, too late he reacts and the obedient, ever loving Aniello is on him. “Well my fine fellow…” says Aniello, “…you will make a good addition to tonight’s dinner.” And away with him, clutching cockerel-Aniello by the legs upside down. Rachel blows the new Aniello a kiss from her claw, which the new Aniello looks slightly perturbed by but still receives pleasantly, before heading back to the castle with the cockerel, with a mind to take it to the kitchen. As Aniello walks through the long stony corridors, so eventually some kind of sense emerges from the shock and the cockerel-Aniello begins to find his voice.

“Aniello, Aniello!” he crows, and Aniello stops. “You can speak?!” “Yes, I can speak Aniello and you must listen to me before you send me to slaughter.” “Go on.” Says Aniello, though he does not put the fowl down. “Aniello, I am non-other than your beloved Rachel and have been transformed into a cockerel. The Rachel that called you is not Rachel but one of the two wizards whom you turned into asses many years ago; somehow they are back, how I do not know. You must free me and save our child, but beware, for whilst the wizard does not have the red stone, he does have a new black stone, which is yet more powerful than the red one. If you do not believe me, look in the branches of the scots pine trees near the courtyard. There, if you wait a while you will see hovering a winged egg. This winged egg is our child, not yet ready to fully hatch. Get the red-stone and whilst the wizard does not yet know that you know it is he, see if you can disarm him of the black.” “Well, this is a strange tale you tell me for sure!” said Aniello, “Go, go, go to the window until you see the egg, then you will know I am not lying. Our poor child needs our help!”

So Aniello altered his route until he reached a window on the correct side of the castle, and from there (all the while holding the cockerel-Aniello) he peered out into the lofty branches of the scots pine trees. He looked and he saw nothing, but the cockerel bade him look a while longer, and then sure enough there was something. At first he thought it a bird, but then noticing how it hovered and yet how it could not be a kestrel; he focussed his sight upon it and saw it did indeed look like a winged egg. His mind whirled and he did not know what to think, for he had heard of the ancient tales of the winged egg Kneph and its strange symbolism. He did not know what to believe and his mind was filled with serpents, cockatrices and mysteries. Yet the cockerel did seem so earnest in its explanation and has he watched his wife cavorting strangely below in the courtyard, he did begin to feel there was something sinister and off about her.

Round and round the black stone she danced in eccentric circles and chanted as she spun. Beneath her, her claw-like feet scratched at the dirt to form a pattern where she stepped. Gradually, her turns became sharper and her birdsong became louder until it was no more than a whistling shriek which deafened the Aniellos’ ears so that neither heard the words she spoke next. “Black stone, black stone, I beg thee, hear my plea! I ask you to curse the peasant-man who dared make a mockery of me!” Now of course like all fables and fairy tales, Rachel’s words certainly didn’t go unheard, though she was not aware that the outcome of her invocation would not be as she intended. Had she not been blinded by her enthusiasm, she may have noticed that she had fumbled her words and instead of “mockery” she had said “cocker-ly”. Regardless, the Freudian slip had been made and the avian-reptilian overlord had heard her wishes and sealed her fate.

When at last the ringing subsided, the Aniellos realised that Rachel had been concealed from their view. The dust that had been churned up from her feverish dance now formed a cloud around her which Aniello surmised was to ensure that the next act of her nefarious machinations would remain undisturbed. Little did they know that they were lucky to be blinded from the horrors within. 

“Do you believe me now?” The cockerel Aniello craned his neck to face his upside down (from his perspective) human counterpart. “We must make a plan at once to extract the black stone from her villainous claws! You must help me find the winged egg or else we may never defeat her! You must let me go at once before it is too late!” Understandably, this was a lot for the human not-Aniello to take in. His knowledge of the egg and its strange and unknown powers frightened him but somehow he knew that the cockerel was telling him the truth. He looked yonder towards the Scots pines and for a moment, thought he caught sight of the winged-egg of which the cockerel spoke and an uncomfortable sensation stirred within him. Strange as it may be, the truth was clear before him. Though what might he gain from this transaction? A cockerel might not offer him much but a bargain is still a bargain. He pondered for a moment, considering what this hapless bird might offer him. For a brief moment, a mischievous smirk darted across his features for he had finally reached his conclusion. In his most booming and authoritarian voice, he announced the terms of their mutual companionship.  

“Is that so, my bird friend? I could very easily help you since you yourself are.. inhibited in your current form. But naturally my aid would come at a price, perhaps the price of a certain red stone…”. He trailed off without finishing his point. Aniello, still securely hanging by his feet, flapped his wings furiously. “You damned fool! Do you not know the powers which you meddle with!? The red stone is one of the most powerful artefacts in the known world and you want to use it for your foolish desires! Pray tell, what exactly do you intend to do with it if it falls into your possession? Tell me honestly what it is that you want most in all the world.” A lengthy pause saturated the air between them. Not-Aniello inhaled deeply and levelled his gaze with one of (for he could not meet the gaze of both) cockerel/original Aniello’s deeply-unsettled orange eyes. “I want to start a folk-rock band”.