by Aron Lewes
Even when Medea’s knife was flailing in front of her face, Aurora was more worried about Lyric than she was for herself. When she thought he might be dead, the cold dread in the depths of her heart was unlike anything she ever felt before. When Medea was on the verge of taking her life, all she could think about was how she would never see Lyric again. Losing Lyric was more frightening than anything.
She tried to make excuses for herself. Maybe she only thought she was in love with him because they were sharing a tender moment after having survived the brink of death. That sort of experience could bring two people together. She hoped she would wake up tomorrow and realize her foolish pangs of love were nothing more than an erroneous, post-traumatic misinterpretation of her feelings.
Or not.
There was no explanation for her feelings. She had no reason to love him; in fact, she had every reason to hate him. How could she love a man who bickered with her all the time? How could she love a man who had an unsurpassed talent for whining and complaining? How could she love a man who—dare she think it—had Pooka Bear for a bedmate?
And yet, she had never been more certain of anything.
Worst of all, she had no reason to believe he might return her feelings. If loving Lyric was completely illogical, Lyric returning her love was an equally insane notion.
“Uhh, Aurora? You might want to, uhh... you might want to have a look at this.” Lyric’s voice was filled with uncertainty.
When Aurora looked up, she saw the reason for Lyric’s apprehension. A mass of black robes emerged from the woods; friend or foe, she could not be sure. Not until he spoke.
“I’m so glad I found you. Quickly!” The voice belonged to Noxor. “Quick, we should leave these woods!”
Aurora got up, untangling herself from Lyric’s encompassing arm. “What happened, Noxor? What happened to Medea?”
“I’ve injured her, but I wasn’t able to finish her off. We need to leave these woods. If I can find you, so can she.” Noxor watched Lyric rise to his feet, then he turned his attention to Greta. “Who is the child?”
“Oh, this is Greta,” Aurora introduced her.
When Greta heard her name, she looked up. Then she took one look at Noxor, screamed, and dove behind Lyric for protection. Aurora couldn’t really blame the girl for having such a reaction. Noxor was an intimidating figure.
“Well, we can’t take her with us,” Noxor said. “She’ll slow us down.”
“I wasn’t planning on taking her with us. We just need to go back to the town and drop her off...”
“No.” Noxor was adamant. “No, we can’t do that. It’s far too risky. You need to put as much distance between yourself and Medea as you possibly can.”
“But...” Aurora’s shoulders fell. She had forgotten what she was trying to accomplish. Was it revenge? If that was the case, her chances of settling the score were rather slim. It wasn’t easy to turn the tables on someone like Medea.
What would Molly want her to do? Would she want her to have vengeance? Would she want her to find Meg and Mary? That seemed like an honest goal, but she had no idea where to start looking.
“He can take her back.” Noxor bowed his hooded head in Lyric’s direction.
“What? Me? No! No way! I’ll get lost! I have a terrible sense of direction! I’ll never be able to find you again!”
“Then I’ll take her back. I’ll point you in the right direction, and—”
Greta squealed. Accompanying Noxor must have been a terrifying thought.
“We can just take her back!” Aurora insisted, “It shouldn’t take too long.”
“But we’re quite far from the village. If you go back, Medea will surely find you.” Noxor grabbed Aurora’s wrist, holding her in place. “I won’t let you go.”
“But what are we supposed to do about Greta?!”
“I have a suggestion,” Lyric spoke up. “If she won’t go with Necksore, we can just take her with us.”
Aurora’s eyes widened. “What?! That’s kidnapping!”
“Well, not quite. It’d be better than leaving her here in the middle of the woods, wouldn‘t it? After I get back to my palace, I can arrange for a carriage to take her back home to Pig Town. Problem solved.”
Aurora wasn’t convinced. “We can’t take her with us.”
“I agree,” Noxor said. When he reached for Greta, she ran several feet away to dodge his grasp.
“Let’s just walk off without her. If she follows us, she follows us. If she doesn’t, it’s out of our hands. No one can say we kidnapped her if she happened to tag along, right?” Lyric punctuated his suggestion with a shrug.
Aurora waited for Noxor to protest, but he didn’t. After a moment of contemplation, she shrugged. “Okay.”
“Alright then!” Lyric took Aurora by the arm and started to head off with her. “Bye bye, Greta. Bye, Necksore. We’ll write to you when we get to our destination!”
Aurora allowed herself to be escorted away, but her eyes were wide with confusion. “Why are you saying goodbye to Noxor? Isn’t he coming with us?”
“I’d rather he didn’t.”
She sighed. “Lyric! Don’t be rude!”
Noxor caught up and drifted alongside them. “It seems your friend doesn’t like me.”
“I know!” Aurora shrieked. “And after you saved our lives! He could at least show a little gratitude.”
“It’s fine, I don’t expect gratitude. At any rate, Aurora, there’s someplace I’d like to take you. We should be heading in the right direction.”
“Where are you taking us?”
“Yeah.” Lyric seconded. “I don’t want any more surprises. If we’re going to run into any more walking pigs and shape-shifting witches, I’d like to know.” He checked over his shoulder to see if Greta was following them. Indeed, she was.
“On the outer reaches of this forest, Medea has a small fortress where she’s been known to keep her prisoners. I can’t make any promises, but it’s very possible we might—”
“Meg and Mary!” Aurora gasped. “Do you think we’ll find them there?”
“It’s very possible, but like I said, I can’t make any promises. The fortress isn’t Medea’s only stronghold. Also, I would suggest that we tread with caution. We’ll be in Medea’s domain. In fact, I wouldn’t be surprised if she was returning to the fortress to treat her wounds.”
“Great,” Lyric scoffed. “We’re heading right into the belly of the beast. That sounds wonderful.”
Aurora jabbed him with an elbow. “Don’t complain, Lyric! I know you wanted to take me home, but taking me home wouldn’t be worth anything if Meg and Mary weren’t there to greet me when I got back. I have to find them!”
“Well, I have a better idea!” Lyric suggested. “Why don’t you travel to the castle in Avalon and ask the king and queen for help? It’d be better than storming in there ourselves.”
“I can’t do that! The king banished me, remember? Why would he want to help me? I’m not even his daughter! He probably hates me as much as Medea does.”
“I don’t know about that,” Lyric quietly disagreed. “Even if they deny your request, it sounds more logical than storming into your evil aunt’s stomping ground.”
Lyric was right. Aurora knew it was a risky maneuver. Even so, she felt like she had to try.
“We’re getting close,” Noxor warned them. “So be on your guard.”
Aurora cupped a hand behind her ear. She couldn’t see the tower, but heard something odd. As they drew closer, the sound became more and more clear. “What is that?”
“What is what?” Lyric asked.
“You don’t hear that? It sounds like...” Aurora paused. She didn’t know how to describe it, because it was so sharp and shrill. “It sounds like music.”
Lyric stopped walking and strained to hear it. “Oh, I think you’re right! I hear it!”
“It sounds like... someone is singing.”
“And it’s definitely coming from
the direction of the fortress,” Noxor added. “I have no idea why there would be music, but there is.”
“Are they having a festival?”
Lyric’s question was so ludicrous, even Noxor had to laugh. “No. The fortress is a dark and dreadful place. It’s hardly an appropriate location for any sort of festivities.”
Aurora wanted to get a closer look. When they were barely out of the forest, Medea’s fortress came into view. A dark stone tower, it wasn’t as foreboding as she might have imagined. But admiring architecture was the last thing she wanted to do. They needed to stay hidden. The three of them, as well as Greta, took cover behind a large boulder.
The terrible, off-pitch singing was louder than ever. Aurora peeked around the side of the boulder, hoping she could see where the music was coming from.
“Oh my God...”
When he heard Aurora’s shocked reaction, Lyric tried to peer over her head. “Oh my God...” he echoed her sentiments.
When Noxor saw the singer, he didn’t yet understand the reason for their surprise. Aside from the tights, tunic, and flowing blonde hair—which was a bit out of the ordinary—Noxor didn’t see anything particularly surprising about the vocalist’s appearance. “What? Who is that?” The handsome singer was serenading a young woman, who gazed down at him from the tower’s peak.
“It’s... Prince Charmaine!” Aurora gasped. “That’s who it is, isn’t it? My eyes aren’t deceiving me?”
“No. That’s definitely your fiancé,” Lyric agreed. “And he can’t sing to save his life, might I add. What’s he doing here?”
“Well, that’s supposed to be Medea’s fortress, right? And Charmaine seems to be in league with her, so...” Aurora winced as she listened to Charmaine sing.
Your flaxen hair, unrivaaaaled. Like honey from a bottllllllle. Your lips are twice as sweet, I’m sure... I like you quite a lottle!”
Lyric shuddered. “If I have to listen to this much longer, I might heave.”
“But wait a second, who is he serenading?” Aurora asked. “I know he was cheating on me with Cydney, but that’s definitely not Cydney up there. That must mean he’s cheating on Cydney too, right? Wait a second...”
Lyric raised an eyebrow. “What is it?”
“Take another look at the girl!”
Lyric squinted. Charmaine’s muse was hanging from a window at the top of the tower, so it was impossible to get a good look. “Hmm... I don’t know. I can hardly see her.”
“Well, I might be mistaken, but...” Aurora stepped out from behind the boulder to get a closer look, but Lyric grabbed her arm and dragged her back to safety.
“Don’t do that!”
“Lyric! That’s Rachelle up there!”
Lyric’s eyes swelled comically. “Seriously?!”
“Yeah, I’m pretty sure!”
“Your skin translucent porcelaiiiiin, oh you bestill my heeeeeeart. Now that I have found you, girl, I pray we never paaaart.”
“I don’t believe this,” Lyric uttered. “Your fiancé is serenading my girlfriend!”
Hearing him refer to Rachelle as his girlfriend was a devastating blow, but Aurora didn’t have any time to worry about it. She didn’t know how to react to the situation unfolding in front of them.
Noxor, who had been keeping lookout, suddenly hissed, “Get down!”
Aurora and Lyric ducked down. Greta hid behind Lyric, staying as far away from Noxor as possible. The three of them held their breath until they realized the reason for their caution.
Medea had emerged from the woods, and she was heading toward Charmaine.
“What’s the meaning of this?!” she hollered at him. “Charmaine!”
Charmaine stopped singing almost immediately. He turned toward Medea, looking somewhat abashed. “I’m just serenading the princess, Madam.”
“Thank you for stating the obvious, you idiot. Do you care to explain WHY you’re serenading the princess?”
“Well, she’s a beautiful girl, and I—”
“Say no more!” Medea shouted. “Whatever your reason may be, I can’t have you going soft on my prisoners. That wouldn’t be good at all.”
“Are you wounded?” Charmaine asked, noting the blood on Medea’s shoulder.
She didn’t bother to answer his question. Instead, she turned her attention to Rachelle, who was watching from a window atop the tower. Medea raised her voice, hoping Rachelle could hear her. “Has he gone SOFT on you?”
“I guess so!” Rachelle shouted her answer. “But I wish he would go away. He’s a terrible singer.”
Rachelle retreated from the window, and Medea chuckled. “Did you hear that, Charmaine? Even the princess wishes you’d go away. I have to admit, my own sentiments are starting to echo hers.”
Charmaine took a few steps backward, trying to put distance between Medea and himself. “W-w-w-w-w-w-w-w-w-w-hat do you mean?”
“I mean... you’re more trouble than you’re worth,” Medea clarified. “You’ve become more of a hindrance than a help. You’re getting soft on my enemies, and we can’t have that.”
“I-I-I I’m not getting soft on anyone!” Charmaine insisted. “I’ll do whatever you ask of me!”
“I think it’s time you got out of my sight... for good.” Medea extracted her wand from the pocket of her robe and pointed it at Charmaine. “Anura Salientia Rana Sylvatica Toadum Beso Beso.”
When she was in the middle of her chant, Charmaine shrieked and covered his head. “WHAT ARE YOU DOING?! No! Nooooo!”
His plea didn’t save him. When Medea finished reciting her magic, Charmaine started to shrink in size.
And shrink.
And shrink.
Thirty seconds later, there was a haphazard pile of tights and tunic where Charmaine once stood. The prince was gone.
And there was a frog in his place.
II
SATISFIED WITH THE result of her magic, Medea tossed her burgundy hair over her shoulder and headed toward the fortress. Charmaine attempted to follow her for a few leaps or so, but he couldn’t keep up. He was unfamiliar with his new form, so his jumps were a bit wonky.
“Wait!” he called after her. His voice was, to say the least, a bit froggy. “Waaaaait!”
Charmaine’s whining must have had some affect on Medea, because she turned to impart some information. “A kiss,” she said. “A kiss is the only thing that will break that spell.”
“Ohh, is that it? Well, that’s not too hard.”
“Good luck.” Medea spun on her heel and headed toward the fortress once again.
“Waaait!” Charmaine hollered, taking a tremendous leap in Medea’s direction. “Kiss me, Medea! Don’t go!”
“Do you really think I’m going to do that, when I’m the one who cast the spell?” As she pulled open the fortress door, she cackled at his predicament.
The iron doors slammed shut, and Charmaine sat in the grass, staring at his webbed feet. Even the blades of grass were taller than he was. “Medea? Medea? Medeaaaa?”
She didn’t come back.
“A talking frog. How novel.”
Charmaine’s warted backside shuddered when he heard someone speak. Very slowly, he rotated his awkward body until he was facing the speaker who was, at best, vaguely familiar.
“Who are you to ridicule me, you enormous buffoon?! You, Sir, can go to the devil!”
Lyric knew it was rude to laugh at someone else’s dilemma, but he couldn’t help himself. Charmaine had it coming to him. Besides, it was impossible not to laugh when he was being insulted by a frog. “Oh, I’m not ridiculing you. I’m just... amused.”
Aurora stepped out from behind Lyric, and Charmaine blinked his goggle eyes.
“No way...” the frog whispered. “Aurorrrrribbit?” He clamped his mouth shut. He had only been a frog for two minutes, but he was already susceptible to their habits.
Aurora picked him up and held him in the palm of her hand. “Yeah, it’s me. You’re a bit... slimier than I remembe
r.” She snorted. “On second thought, you’ve always been a bit slimy, haven’t you?”
“Oh, I’m saved!” Charmaine exclaimed, conveniently ignoring the resentment in her voice. “You can break the curse! Kiss me, my adorable fiancé! I know I’m not particularly kissable at present, but if you can get it over with, we can be together as God intended!”
“Charmaine, you’re such an idiot.” Aurora turned toward Greta, who had crept up beside her. “Greta, do you mind if we use your pocket?”
Greta shook her head.
“Good.” Without another word, Aurora dropped Charmaine into the pocket of Greta’s apron.
“Waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaait!” Charmaine let out an enormous yowl as he descended into the depths of the pocket.
Having temporarily disposed of her fiancé, Aurora wiped her hands on the front of her dress. “Now that that’s settled, what should we do now?”
It was Noxor who replied. “I suggest we remain hidden from view until we can come up with an appropriate plan.”
“But what about Princess Rachelle?” Lyric stood directly under her window and stared up at it, longingly. “Where did she go? Rachelle? RACHELLE!”
Aurora swatted the back of Lyric’s head. “What are you doing?! Didn’t you listen to Noxor? We don’t want to draw attention to ourselves!”
Lyric might have whined about Aurora’s clobbering, if not for the fact that Rachelle emerged from the window before he had a chance. “Lyric, is that you?!”
“Ah... Rachelle! I’m so glad we’ve finally found you! Are you alright?”
“Oh!!! It really IS you! Oh, thank goodness!” Rachelle was so relieved to see him, she had to grab onto the window frame to keep from swooning.
“Let me out of here! This is rrrrribbitdiculous!” bellowed a voice from Greta’s pocket.
“Are you alright?” Lyric repeated his question. “Medea hasn’t hurt you, has she?”
“Um... no. She hasn’t. No, not really.”
Lyric frowned when he heard the hesitation in Rachelle’s voice. “Not really? What’s that mean? She has hurt you?”