It came as somewhat of a surprise to him that he should care this much about what a peasant girl thought of him. What should it matter to a frog that a human girl thought him less than heroic?
Or maybe, he thought, he should not be surprised at all. After all, she had comforted him, she hadn’t been afraid to touch him, and she didn’t send him away. But there was more, she was trying to help him get back everything he’d lost, the first ally he’d had in as long as he could remember.
No, Roland decided, he should not be surprised. He should have been working towards her good opinion of him all along.
He would do better, he promised himself. He really should stop mocking her plans. She was trying so hard. He wasn’t quite sure if he could conjure up an amount of self-restraint that enormous, however. They were terribly bad plans after all.
Even if he could not refrain from a snide comment here or there, he would at least be more helpful than he had been so far. He would do better than empty words. He would find a way to break the curse, and when he was a wealthy prince once again, he would give Clara the reward she deserved for helping him. Even if his father refused to take him back, he would use his powerful gift to become rich and then he would pay Clara back for helping him, and when he did she would see him as more than a pathetic talking frog. The more Roland thought about how he would reward Clara for her help, the more he liked the idea.
She stirred in her sleep, and Roland hopped back to the lake. He was hungry, and sunrise was one of the best times for bug catching. He nestled himself into the reeds and when a fat, juicy fly landed on a stalk beside him, his tongue flew out to make the catch. It was natural for a frog to catch flies, and it was something he’d done hundreds of times, but this time something strange happened. As he began to swallow the fly he was nearly overcome with a feeling of disgust. He almost spit out the bug, but he was also very hungry, and his better judgement forced him to swallow the fly.
He had half a mind to quit his bug catching, wait for Clara to wake up, and then ask for half of whatever she was going to eat, but he remembered the vow he’d made only minutes ago. He couldn’t beg for food from Clara like a little puppy. It simply wouldn’t do. Not if he wanted her to think of him as the prince he knew himself to be. It did occur to Roland that catching bugs wasn’t exactly princely, either, but Clara wasn’t going to see it and he certainly wasn’t going to mention it. And so, Prince Roland stayed at the lake, catching and eating flies until he was full.
When the sun had cleared the horizon, he hopped back to where Clara had made her camp. Clara smiled when she saw him.
“Good morning, Roland,” she said. It was so nice to hear his true name spoken.
“Good morning, Clara,” he answered. He stood up as tall as he could, attempting to wrest as much dignity as possible from his frog form. “I’ve got an idea,” he said. By preemptively coming up with his own ideas, Roland realized he could spare himself the temptation of mocking whatever nonsense Clara was bound to come up with.
“Oh do you, now?” Clara’s polite smile from earlier grew wide with amusement.
“You’ve got to find a way to get the princess here, to this lake. I want to talk to her again.”
“If you want to talk to her, I can just climb the tree outside her window, and drop you into her room.”
Roland stifled a derisive snort just in time. The princess obviously wasn’t going to enjoy having a frog dumped into her room. Try to be nice, he told himself. “That is acceptable as a last resort, I suppose, but not preferable. It’s better if she comes here.”
“How am I going to convince the princess to come all the way out here?”
“It’s quite a nice lake. I used to come here to clear my head back before, well, you know. If she’s having trouble with her coursework, surely she must have need of a quiet place to study. She seemed to like spending time by the water back at her home. Just mention a secret lake. She’ll come.”
Clara stared at Roland for a few moments before answering, “Alright, I’ll give it a try.” Clara picked up her cloak and swung it around her shoulders. “What do you plan to tell her when you talk to her?”
“Just leave that to me,” said Roland. The truth was, he wasn’t completely sure what he was going say, but he was fairly confident that he would think of something. Anything was better than simply waiting here at the lake pondering his cursed existence.
***
Clara was well aware of the risks that she took every time she visited the academy. It wasn’t that she had any trouble passing herself off as a student. She was the correct age, and the academy was large enough so that no one would think twice at the sight of a stranger. It was the witch Erysande who was the problem. If Erysande were to see her, she was going to spend the rest of her life as some sort of unnatural creature.
The advantage she had was that she knew Erysande’s habits, and she knew that as long as she stayed away from the School of Battle Magic, she reduced the danger to herself significantly. So as Clara ducked into the School of the Arts she felt a small sense of security. Of all the schools at the academy, this was the one that Erysande would avoid if at all possible.
Bringing the princess to the lake to speak with Roland was something she had already considered and rejected. It would have been much easier just to bring Roland here to speak to the princess, and considering how badly Roland had bungled things the first time he had spoken with the princess, there didn’t seem to be much of a point. But if he thought he was ready for a second try, then she was happy to go along with it.
The frog had thought himself very clever, in spite of the fact that getting the princess to the lake was an obvious course of action, and in spite of the fact that his plan to convince the princess to come to the lake by simply mentioning it was never going to work. Fortunately for them both, Clara had an idea.
She entered a large room with magnificent paintings filling every inch of every wall, the best work of students past. Many more half-finished, less than magnificent paintings sat on easels that were spaced about the gallery.
“Instructor Gregory?” she called out.
An answer came from the far corner of the room. “Yes, I’m here.”
Clara dodged the still wet paintings until she found the man she had come to see. Instructor Gregory was an old man with a face that, even before it had been marred with the wrinkles of age, had been dominated by an oversized nose and a never fading redness in his skin. Clara had always believed that perhaps it was because he was always busy creating so much beauty that there had been none left for himself. Several of the most impressive works on the wall were done by his own hands back when he’d been a student at the academy.
“It’s me, Clara.” Clara pulled back the hood of her cloak, so that Gregory could see her face.
“Clara!” Hands dotted with several colors of paint wrapped around Clara’s shoulders as he pulled her into a hug. “I’m sorry, Clara. That was a bit forward of me. It’s just that when you disappeared, everyone thought the worst. There have been so many disappearances. And the rumors…”
Clara broke in before the man could mention Erysande. “No, I’m fine,” she said cheerily. “I need your help with something. It’s sort of an odd request, but you’ll be doing me an enormous favor.”
“Of course, Clara, what can I help you with?”
“I need to you to draw me a picture of a lake. The most beautiful, inviting lake you can imagine.”
Gregory smiled, seeming to be pleased that the task was one he was so well suited for. “When do you need it?”
“Right now, if it’s not too much trouble.”
Gregory had always been a kind man, and Clara had always liked that about him. As his piece of charcoal flew over the parchment, Clara was also grateful for another trait of his, that he didn’t ask too many questions. His expert hand guided the charcoal as a marvelous scene appeared on the page. It took him only a few minutes and he was finished.
Gregory hande
d the parchment to Clara. “Is this what you had in mind?”
“It’s perfect!” Clara took the parchment, said her goodbyes to Gregory, and was on her way again.
The class schedule of the princess that Clara had secured in one of her previous outings was about to come in handy and that pleased her. It was always nice to have your hard work pay off, she thought. She waited at the bottom of the steps of the School of Alchemy for Princess Adela to finish with her class on transmutation of silver.
The bells at the top of the spire of the School of the Arts rang, and a few minutes later Princess Adela was making her way down the stairs, right on schedule. Clara timed herself so that she appeared directly in front of the princess as she turned at the bottom of the stairs. They inevitably collided, and as they did, Clara released the sketch of the lake so that it fluttered to the ground at the princess’ feet.
“I’m so sorry!” said Clara, who then pretended to hurry along her way, leaving the sketch behind.
“Wait, you dropped this!” the princess called after her.
Clara put a look of fake gratitude on her face. “Oh, thank you so much, I nearly left without it.”
As Clara turned to leave again, she felt a light touch on her arm. She stopped to see the princess looking at her, and Clara knew she’d taken the bait.
“That is such a beautiful lake,” the princess said. “If you don’t mind telling me, does such a place actually exist?”
“It does, and it isn’t far from here. Just take the main road to the south. When you get to the fork in the road continue straight into the woods. It’s only a short walk after that. Keep Greymist Mountain directly in front of you and you can’t miss it.”
The princess smiled. “Thank you. It would do me good to experience such beauty for myself. My first few days at the academy have been…difficult.”
Clara looked down at the sketch again as the princess walked away. The sketch was far lovelier than the actual lake in the woods where the frog was waiting for her. It was to be expected, since Gregory hadn’t actually seen the real lake, but she did hope that the princess wouldn’t be too disappointed. As she looked up from the sketch, she saw a sight that sent a chill through her veins.
Across the lawn stood Erysande staring directly at her.
Clara immediately looked at the ground and pulled her hood over her head, turning her body so that her face was hidden from the direction where Erysande had been.
Her heart started to beat fast, and her mind began to race. Perhaps her eyes were playing tricks on her, and Erysande had only appeared to be looking at her, when in fact she had been merely surveying the commons. She had been awfully far away, and the only reason that Clara had even known it was her was that she had been wearing her blue and black dean’s robes. Furthermore, Clara was still completely human, so that was a good sign. Then the thought occurred to her that maybe the witch was simply waiting until she was alone before cursing her.
It took every bit of Clara’s willpower not to break into a run. Running in the commons was strictly forbidden and the last thing she needed was to draw attention to herself. She managed to make it outside of the school, but fearful of using the main road, ducked into the trees. Getting back to the lake was going to take a little longer than she thought, but at least she felt safer under the cover of the forest.
***
The frog paced restlessly on the shore of the lake. There was a certain helplessness that went along with being a frog, even an oversized frog such as he was. Clara was off actually getting things done, while he was stuck here to hop around uselessly. He couldn’t remember ever feeling this bored before. Lounging in the water and basking in the sun had always been enough. He tried to think of all the things he might say to the princess to convince her to kiss him, but as the final bell for classes at the academy sounded in the distance, he began to wonder if he should try to look for Clara. He would most likely just get himself killed, but anything was better than this.
Just when he thought the monotony would never end, it was broken by laugher in the distance. Roland jumped into the water, swam across the lake in the direction of the sound, and hid in the reeds. It wasn’t long before the Princess Adela came into view. Unfortunately, she was not alone.
CHAPTER 7
“I didn’t expect her to bring a friend,” the frog told Clara. “It’s already difficult enough to try to make conversation with a woman while being a talking frog.”
Clara had finally gotten back to the lake, and while Roland was grateful to see her return unharmed, he was even more eager to let her know about the lake’s new visitors.
“I was as surprised as you are, Roland. Did you get a good look at him? Who was he?” Clara clutched her hands together nervously. She had seemed shaken from the moment the frog had laid eyes on her, and the frog’s news hadn’t seemed to help things.
“Thin, dark hair, plays the lyre, but not too well,” answered Roland.
Clara tried to smile, but it came out strained. “You just described about a quarter of the boys at the academy.”
“If they come back, I’ll try to get a better look.” It pained him to admit it, but he was sure he would be a lot braver if he knew that Clara was waiting in bushes just in case anything went wrong. It also pained him that his would-be protector looked so out of sorts. “You don’t look well. What happened?”
“Nothing happened. It was a long day. I just need some rest.”
“You really are a terrible liar.” Roland hopped and blocked her path as she tried to get away. “It’s a phenomenon I find quite strange, considering you seem to be rather adept at stealing and sneaking. Lying is usually the thing that completes the trio.”
Clara gave him a deadly glare. She started to walk away and again Roland moved to block her. At this, Clara stepped over him and kept walking. Roland followed her to where she had made her camp.
“What do you want, Roland?” Clara made no attempt to hide the irritation in her voice.
Roland tried to inch closer, but the look on Clara’s face kept him at bay.
“It’s just that, well, I, uh, I wanted to thank you for getting the princess to the lake. Well done!”
“You’re welcome,” replied Clara.
Roland still didn’t leave, but he didn’t quite know what to say, either, so he just sat there staring at her with his big, round, frog eyes.
Finally, Clara couldn’t take it anymore. “If there’s nothing else you need, Roland, the lake is that way.” Clara pointed towards the water.
Roland hoped towards Clara, ignoring the warning in her eyes. He stopped at her feet.
“It occurs to me,” he said, “that the two of us are allies in this endeavor, and that we are alone in that distinction. So, if you truly don’t wish to tell me what is troubling you, I will be happy to make my way back to the lake, but if you would like a sympathetic ear, you’ve got mine.”
Roland expected Clara’s hand to go up again with a finger pointing to the water, but to his surprised she sunk down and sat on her blanket. Roland hopped close, but took care not to touch his slimy skin to her bedding.
“I saw her, and I think she saw me, too,” Clara said, her voice barely louder than a whisper.
“Erysande?” asked the frog with a shudder. Even speaking her name filled him with a sense of dread.
Clara nodded. It wasn’t the first time that Roland had been curious about how Clara had come to know so much about the witch Erysande, and at this moment the he was tempted to ask her about her past. The temptation evaporated as soon as he saw a tear fall down her cheek. Clara wiped away the tear quickly, and her face flushed. She looked away from Roland, seemingly ashamed that she’d let him see her cry.
“Don’t worry,” said Roland, trying to sound cheerful, “a few tears can be good for the soul. You’ve already seen me acting like a blubbering fool.”
Clara looked back at him and smiled weakly.
“Don’t worry about the witch, either. My mind is
getting stronger every day. When I’m back at full strength, this will be easy.”
Now Clara was shaking her head and laughing.
“What’s so funny?” asked Roland.
“That was definitely something the human Prince Roland would say,” she told him.
The frog Prince Roland did his best to smile with his transformed face. “I’ll take that as a compliment, then.”
They sat together for a while, bound by shared purpose, and Roland hoped, a growing friendship. As the sun was getting low on the horizon Roland had a horrifying thought. This lake was where Erysande had cursed him. She knew this place. Though not likely, it was possible she might come here.
Roland suggested to Clara that she move her camp a little bit deeper into the woods. Clara agreed and began to gather her belongings into her travel sack. When everything was packed, she lifted the heavy load and walked it to her waiting horse. She left Roland at the lake, alone with his thoughts.
***
Roland was growing impatient. It wasn’t that things weren’t going well. They most certainly were. He’d made quite a name for himself here at Westhaven. Not only was he top of his class at the School of Battle Magic, but he was widely considered by his instructors to be one of the most talented students they’d had in years. Little did they know how true that was, and in Roland’s estimation it was time that the world found out. No more hiding, no more pretending to be something he wasn’t. He realized that his peers might fear him once they knew the truth, but he didn’t care.
His gift was called Transmogrification, and it was very rare. The last known practitioner had died nearly fifty years ago. It was related to the more common ability of shape shifting, but while shape shifters can take an animal form only for themselves, Transmogrifiers can only give it to others.
A Kiss to Break the Spell Page 4