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Long ago and far away, in the depth of the deep green forest, there lived a witch. She was a good witch, who healed small children when they were hurt, and made the plants grow strong and tall, and made candles glow with good magic.

The witch was very worried. There were less and less pretty girls in the land, and, oddly, more and more swans appearing in the lake nearby. And the curious thing was that however many swans swam on the lake, the water never rippled. Instead it was always as still and clear as a mirror.

The witch began to watch the swans, until one day she found a new swan, not white and grey and black like all the other swans but silver, as silver as a drop of moonlight. And, when she looked very closely, the witch could see that the swan was crying, with one silent tear at a time trickling along her feathers.

The next day, messengers proclaimed through all the land that the princess had vanished, and that whoever found her could have their heart's desire. Anything that the king, who was the princess's father, could give would be theirs.

The witch was upset, for she knew now that all the pretty girls in the land had been turned into swans. She thought and she thought, and then went to see if her books of magic could help.

This is what it said:

You can turn people into swans by making them think that they look like swans. So to turn swans back into people, you have to show them what they really look like, with a magic mirror. The frame must be made from a Wyvern's scale, and the middle must be made from the moon-water of a lake that never ripples.

The witch read this carefully. "I have to make a magic mirror," she said. "I know where there's a Wyvern, but he always looks so big and scary, and I know where the lake is. I shall ask the Wyvern for a scale first, even though he looks big and scary enough to eat me all up."

And so the witch, very afraid, went to the cave where the Wyvern lived. She saw outside a suit of golden armour, and was suddenly afraid that the Wyvern had eaten up some poor knight. (He hadn't of course; it was simply the armour of the very brave and very bold knight, who had brought cookies for his friend). Nonetheless, the witch was very brave, and so went all the way up to the cave.

"Hello!" called the witch. "Does the Wyvern live here?"

The Wyvern pushed his vast, red, horsey head out of the mouth of the cave. "Huloo?"

"Um, hello," said the witch. Because she was a witch, she knew better than to just see the Wyvern's scary face and forked tongue. She thought that perhaps, on the inside, the Wyvern wasn't big and scary after all.

"Hello, Wyvern. I'm a witch, and I need one of your beautiful red-gold scales for a spell. If you give me a scale, I can use it to save all the pretty girls in the land, because they've been turned into swans, and have to stay swimming on the lake. Please may I have a scale?"

"Poor things!" cried the Wyvern. "I can go anywhere I like. You may have a scale, if you like. Will this one do?" With that, the Wyvern leaned over with his big sharp teeth, and pulled out one red-gold scale, which he then gave to the witch. And then he whimpered, because pulling out the scale hurt him.

"You poor thing," said the witch. "I didn't know that would hurt you. Here, hold still a minute."

The Wyvern held still, and the witch used her magic to heal the Wyvern, so that the place where he'd taken the scale from stopped hurting, and a new scale grew back.

"Oh, thank you!" the Wyvern looked back at himself, and at the new scale that had just grown.

"That's all right," smiled the witch. "And thank you for the scale."

"That's all right," trumpeted the Wyvern happily.

Back at her cottage in the depth of the deep green forest, the witch carefully carved the scale into a frame for a mirror. It was carved in the shape of the Wyvern, because he'd been kind enough to give the scale away freely.

By the time the frame was ready, night had fallen, and the moon was high over the treetops of the deep green forest. The witch, seeing this, hurried to the lake. The swans were still swimming around unhappily, and the silver princess-swan was still crying.

The witch quickly went to the edge of the water, and scooped a little of the dank grey lake water into the frame she had made. But as soon as the water touched the frame, it ran right back out again.

"Oh, no!" cried the witch. "That wasn't supposed to happen at all. Why isn't this working?"

The witch had quite forgotten that her book had said she needed moon-water, and she didn't know what it was anyway, but the swans knew what she needed.

Suddenly, all the swans formed a circle, and paddled in a slow parade around the reflection of the moon in the water of the lake that was as smooth as a mirror. Seeing this, the witch jumped into the water, where she splished and splashed over to the reflection of the moon, and then carefully tried to catch it in her frame.

This time, as soon as the water of the lake touched the frame, it dried into being a mirror. Splashing happily, the witch showed the mirror to the nearest swan.

But when the swan looked at herself in the mirror, she saw the face the of the girl she had been, and then the next moment she turned back into the girl, until she disappeared, returning home for her parents to find her safe and well.

One by one the swans looked in the mirror, and one by one they turned back into pretty girls, before returning home.

Tired, the witch paddled back to the shore- and then realised that she'd missed a swan. The princess, still looking like a silver swan, was waiting on the shore.

"I'm sorry," said the witch, "I'll turn you back at once."
She showed the swan the mirror, and sure enough the next moment there was a princess sitting on the shore, all dressed in white.

"Thank you very much," said the princess gratefully. "If there's anything I can do for you, please let me know."

"Oh, I don't want anything," said the witch. "Um, someone to help with the washing up would be nice sometimes, but that's about it."

The princess sniffed. "You shall have a housekeeper if you like, but that's not very much. Are you sure you wouldn't like gold and jewels?"

"Not for me, thank you," replied the witch, "But there is someone…"

And so it was that the Wyvern woke up next morning, only to find at the mouth of his cave- a present, all for him! It was a beautiful statue of a swan, all made of silver, with little cogs and levers and pipes.

And sometimes, when the night was dark, it would roll and wheel its way to the mouth of the cave, and sing a sweet, soft song to the moon shining high above.

THE END