A Kiss to Break the Spell

by Adelle Summers

  “Prince Roland,” said a voice behind him.

  Prince Roland turned, and his hand rose instinctively to conjure a blade of flames. He relaxed, but only slightly, when he saw a familiar face. “Instructer Erysande! What are you doing here?”

  He visited the forest lake often, but he’d never before seen another person there. As the son of a king, he was well aware that his father’s enemies might seek to hurt his father by hurting him. He had always taken care to make sure that he wasn’t followed, and this night had been no exception, so Erysande’s sudden appearance here made him feel uneasy. Uneasy, but not afraid. After all, if he willed it, Erysande would become a harmless mouse or a fluffy bunny.

  Erysande looked at him with her icy blue eyes. She had a face that may once have been beautiful, but that beauty, if it was ever there, had faded into a visage that was stern and hawkish. “You have an unusual talent, Prince Roland,” she said.

  “Ah, yes, if you’re talking about what happened earlier today, I was just about to head back to fix everything up.” He knew he shouldn’t have been so careless, but he’d grown tired of keeping his gift a secret. People should know how powerful he truly was. Now they did.

  “I’ve already cleaned up your mess, boy.” Erysande’s eyes never left him for a second, boring into him with her piercing stare.

  Roland could sense that he was in danger. He thought perhaps the form of a rat would suit her nicely. He’d figure out what she was doing here, and if her intentions were not sinister, he would change her back. He summoned the power within him and projected it at Erysande. Nothing happened.

  Erysande smiled coldly. “You are strong, Prince. Perhaps in a couple of years, after you had honed your skills, that might have worked.”

  Prince Roland stood wide eyed, staring at Erysande. Now he was afraid. There was no way she should have been able to stop him. It was impossible. Unless she, too…

  Prince Roland’s drew upon his knowledge of battle magic and tried to conjure a fireball, but before he could, his body was engulfed in pain. He screamed.

  “Do you hear that?” Erysande purred. “The frogs sound especially melodious tonight. Almost like a song. I imagine your voice will sound even sweeter when it joins them.”

  Prince Roland staggered backwards. He stumbled and fell into the inky water of the lake. There was so much pain. The black water surrounded him. He was sinking slowly, but it didn’t occur to him that he might drown. His only thought was of ending the fiery pain that tortured every inch of his flesh.

  At last the pain stopped. It was only then that Roland became aware of his lack of oxygen. He felt different. Powerful legs thrust him through the water towards the surface. He gasped for air when he broke through. His face felt strange. He reached up a hand to touch it, and it was then he realized what he had become. Again he screamed, but it was no longer with the voice of a boy.

  In the distance he heard the sound of a woman’s laugher.

  ***

  “I remembered something! Clara, wake up! I remembered!” The frog was still shaking with the intensity of the emotion he’d felt as the memory had reawaked.

  “You…wait…wuh?” Clara struggled to open her eyes, then succumbed once again to the urge to sleep.

  Mornings were apparently not her strong point, although the sun hadn’t quite risen, so maybe it was a little premature to call it morning. In any case, the frog didn’t care, and he placed his forelegs on her shoulder and shook her as hard as he could. He was quick enough to duck as her fist came sailing over his head. The frog had gotten what he wanted, however, as Clara was now awake.

  “What is the matter with you? The sun isn’t even up yet,” growled Clara.

  “I remembered something.”

  “Oh?”

  “This is where the witch changed me into a frog. Her name was Erysande. The memory was so clear. It was almost like I relived it.”

  Clara’s expression turned to one of compassion mixed with horror. “I didn’t know that this was the lake. I truly didn’t. I had planned to take you into Westhaven and then you could remember all the good times you had there.”

  The frog hadn’t even considered the idea that she might have brought him to this lake on purpose to make him relive the worst night of his life. The look on her face made him believe her denial. It did give him a small measure of comfort to know that at least she seemed to realize how traumatized he was.

  The frog sat there looking up at Clara and tried to will his trembling to stop. Of all the memories that could have been dredged back into his mind, why did it have to be this one? Judging from how happy he’d seemed before the witch ruined everything, he’d had any number of memories to choose from that didn’t involve him undergoing a terrible curse. It left him nervous about receiving any more messages from his past.

  “Are you going to OK?” asked Clara.

  This memory changed things, thought the frog. No more would he have to operate on the uncertainty of a vague feeling of discontent. Clara had been telling the truth, and the memory had proved it. He had done the right thing by coming here. Even though the sense of loss that he’d experienced during the memory still lingered, he reminded himself that there was a princess just a little ways away at Westhaven Academy who could fix everything.

  “Am I going to be OK? That depends on the princess,” the frog answered, then added with some difficultly, “I’m sorry I called you a witch. You were telling the truth, it seems.”

  Clara blinked and looked a bit surprised. “It’s ok,” she said.

  Just then the sound of ringing came in the distance. The bells of Westhaven announced the beginning of another day of institutional learning. To most of the students who came from every corner of the land to study in the ancient halls, it was the sound of having to wake up a bit earlier than they’d hoped. To others, it was a reminder that they had forgotten to study for one of their exams. To the frog, it sounded like hope.

  CHAPTER 5

  “What did you find out?” The frog asked eagerly.

  Clara had gone out to Westhaven to see what she could find about the princess. From the look on her face she had succeeded beyond expectations.

  “I got her class schedule,” Clara said excitedly.

  The frog was unimpressed. “How is that supposed to get her to kiss me?”

  “It will help us know where she is and what she’s doing.” Clara’s eyes glinted and her smile widened.

  “Well, spit it out, then,” said the frog. “I know there’s more. You wouldn’t be grinning that stupidly for no reason.”

  Clara gave the frog a quick glare but her smile returned as she began to speak. “There was an aptitude test on the first day. The princess failed spectacularly.”

  “That’s what you’re so happy about? The princess failing an exam? That’s rather cruel, actually.”

  “She’s got a weakness. Where there’s a weakness, there’s a chance for you to turn it into an opportunity.”

  “What are you going to do? Steal the answers to her next test, and then have me give them to her? Tell her I found them at the bottom of a pond?”

  “You were a student here once. If we can just get you to remember a little bit more, you can help her with her classes. Once she starts passing she’ll be so grateful that she’ll surely kiss you.”

  “I only have one memory so far, but even if my memory were functioning normally, I still wouldn’t remember the minutia from classes I’d taken years ago that I would need in order to help her. And even if I did, she is a princess, Clara. She can have any number of people serve as her private tutor should it suit her. If this is the best that you can come up with, you might as well just take me back to me pond.” The frog finished with a haughty snort.

  Clara’s smile vanished and did not return. The frog immediately regretted his words. Clara had actually thought she’d been on to something, and he’d crushed her little idea with a casual cruelty. He knew he should say something else, give her credit for
trying so hard, but apologizing was not something he enjoyed. He’d already apologized for calling her a witch, and it hadn’t been a pleasant experience for him. In fact, even the feeling of wanting to apologize was new to the frog, and he had a sneaking suspicion it was something he’d never experienced when he’d been a prince, either.

  Clara didn’t give him time to ponder the matter. She walked over to her horse who’d been dozing nearby and pulled a familiar sack out of a saddlebag. “Get in!”

  The frog took a step backwards. “You intend to abduct me again? I thought we were past that.”

  “We’re going into Westhaven, and since you are a gigantic, slimy frog, you’re going to need somewhere to hide.” Clara pointed to the bag.

  “Going to Westhaven? Why would I want to do that?” The frog could not help but notice that Clara’s ideas were getting worse and worse.

  “You always had a reputation for being so very clever, so I’m going to show you around and see if we can’t get the rest of your memory back. Once it’s back, you can make the plans.”

  The frog was actually somewhat flattered. If he was making the plans they would, in all likelihood, be much better, and they certainly wouldn’t be any worse. But then he remembered the last time he’d remembered something. He stayed where he was, ignoring the open bag that Clara held out in front of him.

  “What’s the matter?” Clara asked.

  Roland looked away from Clara’s eyes. “I’m not sure I want to remember.”

  “You’ve got the worst memory out of the way already. It can only go up from here.”

  The frog thought she was probably right, but he was wary of making any assumptions. “How can you be sure?”

  “What could be worse than being changed into a frog?”

  “I can think of several things, actually. Clearly, lack of creativity is among your many faults.”

  Clara gave him another glare, this one so poisonous that the frog became motivated to jump into the bag.

  Clara fastened the end of the bag loosely, giving the frog a hole through which to peer out, but letting the draped fabric conceal him from view. She mounted her horse, and set the hidden frog on her lap. After a brief moment of complaint from Clara’s horse about having to move again so soon, they were on their way.

  Once Clara’s horse realized where they were headed, he picked up the pace and it wasn’t long before the gates of Westhaven were in sight. They had to leave the horse at the stables near the gates. These stables happened to be the exact stables filled with food that Clara’s horse had been hoping for. The snort that he let out as Clara left him behind seemed to tell her not to rush back.

  Now on foot, Clara carried the sack with the frog inside. The frog thought he might have been impressed with this place, were he not peeking out from a tiny opening in a sack. As it was he was still able to see the huge, immaculate lawn crisscrossed by cobblestone paths, carving out a pattern of precise symmetry.

  In the very center, a large stone figure of a man looked down upon the scene. He wondered who it was that was depicted in that statue. He knew that the answer was locked in his own mind somewhere, but try as he might, he could not remember. The frog searched within himself for something, anything, even a feeling of familiarity, but he came up with nothing. Still, it was a magnificent place, a place where the prince from his one remembered memory would have felt right at home.

  Clara walked him around for another quarter of an hour, and though he saw a lot of ivy laden stone, pompous statues and harried looking students, none of it conjured any measure of familiarity. The closest thing to it came when Clara started back towards the pond and he found that he a felt a deep sense of sorrow to be leaving the place.

  Clara waited until they were out of view of anyone who would be disturbed by the sight of someone talking to a sack. “Well? Did you remember anything?”

  “Nothing, I’m afraid.” The frog didn’t have to feign his disappointment.

  Clara didn’t say anything else to him on the ride back. She didn’t even bother to take him out of the sack. The frog wondered if she was still annoyed with him for insulting her intended course of action. His suspicions were confirmed in the affirmative when they reached the lake. Without a word Clara opened the sack, and the frog tumbled into the water with a splash.

  ***

  Prince Roland awoke as water engulfed him with a splash. He thrashed and struggled to the surface. His new frog body still felt so very unfamiliar. He popped his head into the air just in time to see a man riding on a large grey horse turning to leave. A quick look around showed him that he was floating in a pool of murky water in a forest somewhere. He had no idea where he was or how he got there. But the man riding away certainly did.

  “Wait!” he cried. “Who are you? What am I doing here?”

  The man didn’t stop or turn around.

  “Stop! I demand to know why I’ve been deposited in this filthy place.”

  The man kept going.

  “Stop right now!” Prince Roland demanded. “Don’t you know who I am? I am Prince Roland, heir to the throne of Andaria, and I demand to know what is going on!”

  The man pulled up his horse. Slowly he turned around and brought his mount to the edge of the pond, his large presence casting a shadow over the frog floating in the water.

  “I know who you were,” said the man. “I was given orders to take the King’s cursed son and leave him where he would never be found.”

  “Who gave you these orders?” asked Roland.

  “The King.”

  Roland was horrified. He stared up at the man, at a loss for words. It couldn’t be true. His father would not have banished him to this place to live like a beast. He pressed his eyes shut and opened them again, hoping it was all just a dream.

  The man gave him one last sorrowful look, then turned his horse around again, this time kicking it into a gallop.

  Roland made his best attempt to contain is rising panic. His thoughts raced. Surely any moment now the man would be back with an apology from his father, and then he would go home. Roland tried his best to make himself believe this, but he could not. Slowly the truth sank in. The father who he’d thought had loved him had betrayed him when he’d needed him most. He was a frog, an embarrassment, and a failure. This was his life now, swimming in a dirty pond and catching bugs. He was no longer Prince Roland. His old life was over. He was alone.

  ***

  Clara was dragged from a pleasant dream back to reality by the sound of whimpering. She turned her head towards the sound and opened her eyes. Only a few inches away was the face of the enchanted frog, his beady round eyes staring directly into hers. His face lacked most of the expressiveness of a human’s, but somehow he still managed to look sad. Or maybe it was the whimpering that gave her this impression. In any case, it was enough to overcome Clara’s irritation with being awoken from her dream, and even to make her forget how insufferable he’d acted the previous day.

  “What’s the matter?” she asked gently.

  “I remembered something else, and it was worse than the first, just like I’d feared.”

  Clara had half a mind to scold him for exaggerating, but said instead she decided to give him the benefit of the doubt. “I’m very sorry.”

  “My father abandoned me. He dumped me in that pond where you found me. He thought I was an embarrassment. He was my father, he was supposed to protect me, and he abandoned me.” The frog buried his face into this webbed feet.

  That might actually be worse, Clara thought, and was glad she hadn’t accused the frog of being overly dramatic. He sat there shaking with sobs, head hung between his pudgy frog toes. Clara reached out a hand to comfort him, but stopped short. He was still dripping with lake water and glistening with slime. It wouldn’t be the first time she’d touched him, she’d even kissed him, but every time had been accompanied by a healthy sense of disgust. She swallowed that feeling back down once again, and stroked the top of his head. He relaxed under
her touch and the sobs grew softer.

  “It’s going to be OK,” she said as cheerfully as she could manage at that early hour. “You’ll be back to your old self before you know it.”

  The frog had none of his usual snide retorts. In fact, he said nothing at all. He simply hopped up beside Clara and plopped himself down, as though he meant to stay.

  Clara opened her mouth to ask him what in the world he thought he was doing, but before she could, he said, “Please. I don’t want to be alone.”

  He sounded so dejected that Clara didn’t have the heart to send him back to the lake. She just lay back down, and tried not to think about all the slime that was currently being secreted all over her blanket. Actually, she thought, maybe she should just be grateful that it was getting on the blanket and not her clothes, or worse yet, her skin.

  The frog was soon asleep, breathing deep and steady at Clara’s side. Clara stayed awake for some time, thinking of all the ways in which she might convince a princess to kiss a frog. Just before the sun broke the horizon, she finally joined the frog in peaceful slumber.

  CHAPTER 6

  The frog awoke before dawn. He skin felt itchy and dry, but he was somehow comfortable. He wondered for a brief moment what he was doing out of the water, but then he looked up and noticed Clara. Everything came back in an instant.

  He took a step back and looked at the girl, still asleep. Her dark hair fell in waves around her face, contrasting with her pale skin. The faintest touch of a smile curled the edges of her mouth. She was more beautiful than he’d initially given her credit for. Her cheeks had a tint of pink to them, and he thought about how quickly they would turn red if she got even a little angry. The thought lifted his spirits a little.

  As he hopped back to the pond he considered the events of the previous night. He’d made a fool of himself in front of Clara. He’d acted like a frightened little boy, let her see him weeping and crying like a child. He wished the memory hadn’t seemed so real, that it hadn’t made him relive the moment of his abandonment in such intense emotional detail. If it had been different, perhaps he might have kept his dignity in front of Clara.