Chapter 10
The sun hugging the horizon cast its orange rays of dusk across the clearing where Alden had set up camp. Despite the settling darkness my body acclimated to the temperature around me naturally, keeping me comfortable. Alden had conjured a small flame he could carry around with him, but rather than enjoying its warmth he obsessively studied it, murmuring things about his upcoming challenge in elemental magic.
I occupied myself with watching him until darkness descended more fully around us, prompting me to search for a place to settle for the night, the second I’d experienced as a frog.
Even without the sunlight my visibility hadn’t lessened. While evening usually cast everything in shrouds of darkness, now I could not only see clearly enough to navigate the clearing but detect color unobstructed from the shadowy blackness, from the surrounding green pines to the pink lily pads dotting the water like freckles.
My new vision also allowed me to see far in the distance, as well as sideways and partially behind me without turning my head, providing me an almost full view of my surroundings. In addition to my enhanced vision, sounds were also amplified—from the loud rustle of the branches swaying in the breeze to the nearly deafening hum of insects, night’s orchestra that would likely make it difficult to relax.
I debated whether to settle on the bank near the pond, on the patch of sandy soil where Alden would spend the night, or on one of the lily pads scattered across the water’s surface. Despite the prince’s inattention as he was still thoroughly immersed in coming up with an idea for his new magic, I remained conscious of his proximity.
I’d never slept near anyone outside my family, let alone such an attractive man. I trusted both him and my current form would keep me safe from any untoward advances…not that I would have to worry about such things even if I was human, considering his current distraction.
He appeared to have no intention of sleeping at present, and would likely spend hours mulling over the next challenge, muttering to himself as he scoured the many books he’d brought or the spellbook when it was inclined to cooperate. By the frustrated furrow marring his brow, he still hadn’t come up with any ideas; when I tentatively offered to help him, I received a snapping retort that he wanted to do it himself.
Some time passed before I dared interrupt him again. “Any progress?”
He heaved a defeated sigh. “I’ve come up with nothing.”
“Are you sure you don’t want me to—”
“No.” His brisk tone left no room for argument. The man was certainly stubborn…just like me. My offer rejected, I turned my back to him, a futile gesture considering my enhanced vision allowed me to still see him and every detail of his escalating irritation. However, I firmly fixed my eyes on the water, experimenting to see how well I could see and otherwise sense a frog’s native environment.
I soon became distracted when a drifting scent mingled with the murky smell of the pond and the piney forest breeze—roasted chestnuts. Investigating the source revealed that Alden had set aside his books long enough to prepare his meal, his movements agitated.
I hopped closer, drawn by the scent. Upon noticing my presence, he cast me a sideways glance. “If you catch some flies, I can roast and season them for you.”
Roasting flies wouldn’t make them any more palatable, but though averse to the idea, I was touched by his thoughtfulness; each gesture offered another clue to what lay beyond the habits that initially aggravated me to the true man beneath.
“I’d prefer the chestnuts, if you have enough to spare.”
He tilted his head in surprise, but obediently plucked a large leaf and used a rock to smash the chestnuts into small enough pieces that would be easy for me to consume as well as more gentle on my stomach.
“Why don’t you use magic?” It seemed like a lot of unnecessary effort to expend.
“Food tastes better when it’s prepared without it.”
“You’d go so far for a mere frog?”
He shrugged and laid the leaf on the ground in front of me. Though I knew the chestnuts would be better eaten hot, my attention remained eclipsed by the man before me. He noticed my gaze and glanced over in silent question.
“If you’re worried human food won’t agree with you, I would be happy to prepare a stomach tonic.”
He gave my head a reassuring pat and turned back to the fire. Concentration lined his brow as he cooked, his movements more fluid and practiced than I’d expected from a prince who had servants to wait upon him, which just showed how often he insisted on his own independence despite his elevated station.
In addition to the chestnuts, he roasted some mushrooms he’d foraged before gathering berries from a nearby bush and mixing them with some greenery for a salad, completing the meal with bread from his provisions that he toasted over the flames. With each thing he prepared, he divided it evenly and presented each morsel on a leaf, until I was surrounded by a several-course meal, far more than my frog stomach could likely hold.
We enjoyed a moment of comfortable companionship as we savored his food before he next spoke. “I’ve been curious about something.”
“Hmm?” My mouth was rather full of the delicious meal, which somehow surpassed anything else I’d ever eaten, even Mother’s cooking.
He chose his words carefully, as if worried he might offend me. “You’re not a real frog, are you?”
As tempted as I was to deny it, he spoke with too much surety for me to even hope I could get away with it…not that I had any motive to do so. “What gave me away?”
His lips twitched. “Your human tastes in finding the thought of eating flies vastly unappealing. Not to mention I sense magic about you that acted as a base for my communication charm, making it easier to apply.” His mouth twisted in displeasure at having used such an advantage for his spell. “Not to mention you can read. I’m not so naive as to believe that’s my doing after I cast such a simple spell. While magic isn’t limited to humans, it’s far more likely that you’re a human who’s been transformed into a frog rather than a frog who happens to possess magic. The only natural conclusion is that you’re not truly a frog.”
My heartbeat quickened as I met his gaze, hope rising that he had guessed who I truly was. To my surprise I found a trace of reluctance mingling with the anticipation; I realized that my anonymity had given our relationship a fresh start, one more open and easy than it had been as his apprentice…and one that had allowed me to see and appreciate him in a new way. Additionally, I cringed at the thought that he would realize I’d been the one commenting about his handsome appearance.
“I—”
“I know it’s likely a delicate matter you can’t discuss,” he hastened to add. “Especially due to the conditions of most curses.” He bit his lip and looked intently into my eyes. “Something is so familiar about you. Your magic…I can’t help thinking I’ve sensed it before.”
I sat up straight, willing him to recognize me.
“Kai?”
My shoulders slumped in disappointment. “No. I don’t know who that is.”
Alden shook his head.
“No, I knew the magic didn’t feel right, not to mention I thought I saw him at the entrance challenge when you were with me. Kai is a close friend of mine and we’ve frequently worked on spells together. He’s the only one I confided in that I planned to enter this competition. For a moment I wondered if he’d spelled himself to join me and provide his aid, though I persistently told him I needed to do this alone.”
He gave me another intent stare, then sighed and shook his head.
“I’m sorry; I have no idea who you are. It’s tricky with the curse; I wouldn’t want you to be punished from trying to help me guess.”
Apprehension tickled my warty skin. “Would a curse prevent you from helping me?”
“I didn’t say that.” He arranged some chestnuts on his toasted bread and took a bite, expression thoughtful as he chewed. “Admittedly it’d be better for me to avoid becoming involved, especially if you were cursed by someone vengeful; with my aspirations, it wouldn’t be in my best interest to acquire an enemy.”
I knew the best option would be to tell him the truth. While confessions of this sort had never been difficult for me before, my new awareness of him and my desperation for his companionship made me hesitant.
I silently scolded myself. While it was embarrassing to admit I’d done this to myself, it wasn’t as if he knew it was his apprentice who’d been so foolish, which meant I had no reason to fear losing the good impression I felt strangely possessive of…at least until the full truth came out.
He prodded me with his gaze, his invitation for me to speak. “There’s no need to worry; I wasn’t cursed by anyone of that nature.”
His brows drew together. “Then how did you become a frog?”
Now came the moment of truth. I took a wavering breath. “I cursed myself…accidentally, of course.”
He stared in blatant disbelief…before he tipped his head back and laughed. The cheerful sound filled the clearing, infusing me with a warmth deeper than the crackling fire.
“You cursed yourself?” he asked when he’d regained enough composure to manage words; his wide grin and the mirth lingering in his eyes dispelled his usual gloom.
“By accident,” I clarified defensively. “So you don’t need to fear the repercussions of earning the ire of a vengeful witch…though now that I know how to cast such a curse, I might be inclined to turn you into a frog should you refuse to help me.”
“There’s no need for that. I’m not inclined to ignore anyone in need…even wizards who got themselves into their own predicament.” He winked.
Wizard…so he thought I was male? I was tempted to correct his mistaken assumption, but I wasn’t sure how he’d react to knowing the companion he was spending time alone with was a girl; honor might dictate I no longer accompany him, which would thwart my goals to turn back into myself and acquire the healing magic he’d have access to should he win a place on the council. After a moment’s vacillation, silence won and we finished our dinner, both deep in thought.
After the meal, I made my way to the pond to find a place to spend the night. The spellbook hovered worriedly as I hopped along the lily pads with rather precarious balance and lurched forward when I nearly slipped into the water, but I managed to regain my footing and settled myself more or less comfortably on the smooth, cool surface of a pad.
I tucked my limbs beneath my body, closed my eyes, and remained immobile, yet even once I managed to still my own worries and rushing thoughts I wasn’t entirely sure whether or not I entered a true state of rest. Ever since my transformation, I hadn’t seemed to need actual sleep; apparently frogs rested differently than humans. Though I sat still with my closed eyes blocking out my surroundings, I remained alert to the world around me—the gentle sway of the lily pad where I balanced against the water, the caressing breeze, the popping embers, the soft ruffle of the spellbook’s pages—each sound like a soothing lullaby.
I hadn’t been resting long when Alden’s aggravated groan punctuated the air, compelling me to open my eyes to find he had once more returned to work, his fingers burrowed in his hair as he gazed helplessly at the thick volume in his lap.
When he made no other sound, I tried to recapture my earlier stillness…yet as before it wasn’t fully silent. In addition to the magnified sounds, my ears or some deeper sense picked up a trace of something else—a faint whispering sound similar to the magic I detected when I listened for my powers, though I couldn’t discern where it was coming from. Before I could fully analyze this new sensation, my concentration was abruptly interrupted by an unexpected sound of rustling fabric.
I glanced in Alden’s direction…only to discover he was no longer there. Despite my keen awareness of my surroundings, I’d missed his departure. I whipped my head back and forth but the clearing appeared abandoned. I was about to venture into the trees to search when a splash abruptly jerked my attention to the pond.
My gaze skimmed the water. Had Alden fallen in? Panic coursed through my body when he didn’t immediately surface, the feeling enhanced by my small frame. Worry filled each hop as I ventured closer to investigate.
“Alden?” I peered into the pond, and had just discerned a human-like shape when he broke through the surface with a satisfied gasp.
My relief that he was alive and, by his calm expression, didn’t seem to be in any immediate danger barely registered when it became eclipsed by an emotion of a far different sort.
The man was topless.
Such alarming circumstances were awkward enough, but were made even more so when my night vision allowed me to see every contour of his rather chiseled chest in vivid detail, a sight that rendered me speechless.
Completely oblivious to his effect on his frog companion, Alden ran his fingers through his dripping hair before settling back with a contented sigh, relaxing with the full intention of staying far longer than my heightened anxiety could allow.
“What are you doing?” I demanded.
He startled and whisked his head around, his shoulders relaxing once he caught sight of me. “You surprised me, Mae; I feared someone had stumbled upon me, which would have been rather awkward.”
He chuckled and resumed his bath. I did my best to look away, but the trouble with now having nearly 360-degree vision was I could still see him no matter which way I looked. Each glimpse of his chest did nothing to lessen its effect on me…until the force grew far too tempting to even attempt to look away.
Sensing my staring, he glanced over with raised eyebrows, catching me in the act. If a frog could blush, I was certain my face would be awash in crimson. “What is it?” he asked.
The last thing I wanted to admit was that I’d been staring at him. His realizing the extent of my embarrassment would only clue him in to the fact that I wasn’t a wizard as he’d initially supposed, but a budding witch who happened to be of marriageable age and thus had no business gawking at his bare chest.
“I was trying to sleep.”
“My apologies.” He looked genuinely remorseful and made to get out of the water, causing my panic to surge.
“No! Don’t get out! You can finish.” I forced myself not to dwell on the fact that I’d only delayed the inevitable of him emerging naked once he finished.
“Then I will be prompt.”
I felt a twinge of guilt that I’d compelled him to speed the process along when the strained wizard was finally allowing himself a chance to relax, even as I sent a plea heavenward that he would finish quickly. I made a valiant effort to pay attention to anything else, yet remained acutely aware of every movement of the sloshing water as he conjured soap to bathe.
I tried to rectify the problem by closing my eyes, yet it did nothing to lessen my acute awareness of his nearness, the energy that seemed to expand in the limited space dividing us. I hopped along the lily pads in an effort to increase our necessary distance, but my nerves made my movements in a body I still hadn’t fully accustomed myself to clumsy; balance was already difficult enough without my awareness of the handsome, naked wizard bathing nearby.
I misjudged a particularly long hop and slipped beneath the surface. I hastily squeezed my eyes shut so as not to see Alden’s approach as he waded closer and picked me up with aching gentleness. “Are you alright, Mae?”
I peeked an eye open a sliver to assure him I hadn’t died—though as a frog I was in no danger of drowning—only to encounter his dripping face clouded with a worry that somehow only made him more attractive.
Blast.
“I’m fine.” Embarrassment choked my squeaky response.
He released a whooshing breath of relief. “I’m so glad.”
He rested me on his shoulder. No perch had ever felt so dangerous; it had been one thing to perch on his clothed shoulder as I had the last time he’d positioned me here, and quite another to have direct contact with his bare skin. I could feel the muscles in his shoulders beneath my webbed feet, which only deepened my awareness of his toned physique I’d already failed to ignore by sight.
“Do you…train?” The ridiculous question escaped of its own accord, my frog timbre breathless.
He shrugged, a movement which required me to tighten my precarious hold on him to avoid sliding off. “Only with the sword.”
I could feel every one of these muscles in his shoulder. Despite my new body’s ability to regulate its temperature to my surroundings, heat flooded over me as the warmth of his skin seeped deeper into mine, enveloping me until I felt I was on fire.
Why was I more aware of him as a frog than as a human? It wasn’t as if I hadn’t noticed his dashingly good looks before, nor was he the first man I’d ever found attractive…though I’d always been too busy to pay the local boys as much attention as I wished, especially as my home’s remote location had hampered building close relationships with the others in my village.
There were no distractions now. Uncovering the prince’s mask to glimpse his weaknesses and vulnerabilities had only drawn me to him more strongly than before, particularly after the kindness he’d already exhibited. A strange fluttering filled me, as if I’d swallowed several flies that were still buzzing frantically around.
I needed to get away, a separation that I hoped would help me regain some semblance of sense. When Alden eventually finished his bath and moved towards the reedy shoreline, I made a wild leap from his shoulder onto the bank.
He paused. “Mae—”
“I’ll return in a moment.”
I hopped through the camp, head swiveling frantically as I looked for a place to hide…not so much to avoid his notice as to keep myself from noticing him. I didn’t relax until I’d put some distance between us, though it took even longer for all the tension to melt away and my frantic heartbeat to settle. Finally I concealed myself behind a thick tree, waiting long enough to be assured that he was once more completely clothed.
Why was I reacting in such a ridiculous way? It wasn’t as if I’d never seen a man’s chest before—I’d often seen my younger brother’s when I tended him, Father’s whenever he’d worked outdoors in the heat of summer, and occasionally some of the men from the village. Yet I’d never become so flustered.
Alden had aggravated me from the moment we’d met…yet he’d also helped me discover my powers, excited my curiosity, sated my thirst for knowledge, and helped me with his usual patience. We’d become more than master and apprentice—we were friends, even as my reaction toed the line between friendship and…something else I was too terrified to consider, especially while I remained trapped in the body of an amphibian with no certainty of restoration.
My perplexing thoughts were abruptly interrupted as I sensed something ahead beneath the darkness deep in the direction opposite where I’d left Alden. The air shifted, similar to when the sun became eclipsed by a cold shadow. A feeling stirred the air to caress the muscle I was developing the more attuned I became with my magical senses.
Something was in the trees, and by the almost sinister feeling that shrouded the air, it most certainly was a foe.