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Chapter 33

33

T his woman—this fucking woman. My hands clenched as I struggled to find the right words without losing my ever-loving shit.

“Mariana.” I took a slow, steadying breath. “What the hell were you thinking? You could have been killed! Of all the stupid?—”

Oh, gods. She was shaking. It was almost imperceptible—the slightest twitch of her fingers, a faint quiver of her lip—but it was enough for me to see what I’d missed: fear. She was terrified for her friends.

“Mari,” I started again, softer this time. When she looked away, I caught her chin between my thumb and forefinger and gently turned her face back toward mine. “They’re going to be okay.”

She blinked and—gods help me—my heart almost broke at the sight of tears gathering in the corners of her eyes. Wrapping my arms around her, I pulled her tight against my chest and whispered, “It’s going to be okay,” over and over again into her hair.

She shook her head. “You didn’t see what was behind that door. I was expecting some kind of magical room, but there was nothing but darkness and”—she shivered—“it smelled of… of death , Jack.” She jerked backward, attempting to free herself from my arms. “I need to go back. I need to find them?—”

I kept a firm hold on her biceps. “What you need to do,” I said calmly, “is break this curse. Then we can waltz anywhere in the castle and find your friends. Assuming they don’t find us first. Because they’re fine, Mari, and a hell of a lot stronger than you’re giving them credit for.”

“You can’t know that,” Mariana muttered, refusing to meet my gaze.

“Uh yeah, I can. They’re part of your pack, aren’t they?”

“Technically, only Calum is.”

“And you think Tenebris is weak?”

“No…” She bit her lip. “Maybe.”

I raised a brow.

“He didn’t used to be,” she explained. “But after he lost his powers, he’s felt different. Fragile.”

I nodded. “And you want to keep him from breaking. I get that. But consider this—if you’re feeling that way about him, imagine how he must be feeling. Losing all that power? Maybe this is the challenge he needs to prove to himself he’s not as weak as others seem to think.”

Mariana frowned. “And if he doesn’t?”

I shrugged. “Then we’d better get working on our end of things. I’m guessing you had a reason for making me haul Harp all the way down here and not just popping back into the ballroom. So, let’s hear it.”

She pressed her lips together, and the determination clicked back into place. I could practically see the wheels turning in that beautiful head of hers. “I recovered my bag with the egg and my brushes, but the bottle I keep the potion for my spell work in was smashed to pieces.”

“Damn.”

“My thoughts exactly.” She jerked her thumb at Harp, who waited quietly off to the side where she’d been placed, a dreamy look on her upturned face while the sun cast its lowering rays over her skin. Another hour and we’d need to head inside before the night wings came out to feed. “Harp mentioned there was a wishing well. I’m hoping it’s the one here so I can use its water as the base for a new batch of potion.”

“Right.” I straightened. “What else do you need?”

Mariana patted her satchel. “Nothing I don’t already have with me, thank gods.”

“Perfect. Then why don’t I fetch a bucket of water while you get dressed, and we’ll meet back in the shelter before the sun goes down to put it all together.”

“What about Harp?” Mariana asked. “Should we carry her inside before you go?”

“I’m standing right here,” Harp called out. “And absolutely not. I want to drink in every last drop of sunshine I can.”

“How about this,” I suggested. “We’ll move you so you’re right outside the door. That way we can whisk you inside before the bats come.”

Harp shrugged. “If you insist, but I think you’re forgetting that the shadow creatures are spread throughout the entire castle—ballroom included—and they’ve never bothered me before.”

And now I felt like an idiot for not realizing that sooner. How many times had I asked about her day as opposed to going on and on about my own? Just because she wasn’t human, it didn’t mean she was without feelings. “Harp…”

“It’s fine, Jack, really. Go get that water before it’s too late.”

Still, I hesitated.

Her mouth curved into a soft smile. “ Go .”

I nodded, promising myself I’d work on being a better friend once we got everything sorted out, and took off toward the trees at a jog. It only took a minute to reach the moss-covered well, and I hastily lowered the bucket down into the water below. The little green frog I’d named Ollie looked on as usual, and I found myself confiding in him while I pulled the bucket up and placed it on the edge of the well.

“I dropped my bonding ring down here last week,” I confessed, tilting the bucket this way and that in hopes of seeing something move at the bottom, but as always, there was nothing but water. “Ten years I managed to hold on to it, and the week before my would-be mate shows up out of nowhere, I drop it down a fucking well.”

The frog hopped closer, his tiny head tilting to one side.

“It’s okay, though. You see this water? That mate of mine is an amazingly talented witch, and she’s going to use this water to make a potion that will help break the curse on this hell hole for good.”

The frog’s eyes widened, and he hopped onto the rim of the bucket to peer curiously inside.

I followed his gaze, sighing while I stared into the bucket’s shallow depths. “I can’t believe it might actually happen. Going home, seeing my family again. Punching Noah in his stupid fucking face.” I cracked my knuckles. “Repeatedly.”

The frog tipped his head up, and I gave him a half-hearted smile. “I should sound more excited, right? I’ve been waiting for ages to leave this place. It’s just… Mari.” I swallowed. “She’s been warming up to me again. Trusting me. What if, when we return to the forest… what if that changes? What if she decides to freeze me out again?”

The frog blinked, looking thoroughly unimpressed.

I huffed a laugh and swung the bucket down from the well’s edge, frog and all. “Yeah, you’re right. No use sweating the what-ifs before they’re even a thing. And if she does try to ice me out? I’ll be like a burr in her fur. Only, you know, in a romantic way.” I paused, glancing down at my amphibious friend. “You wanna hop off now, or you coming along for the show?”

He sprung from the sloshing bucket up onto my shoulder.

I grinned. “Wise choice.” You know, in case the spell goes wrong and we accidentally tear this place down. Another “what if” I planned to ignore for the moment.

We headed back to the shelter, where I could see Mariana was busy starting a fire in the pit I’d dug outside. Harp looked on with interest, firing off suggestions about the best stick placement. Mariana only smirked and asked when exactly enchanted string-pluckers had become such experts on campfire building?

Harp laughed, her strings trilling delightedly, and the tiny frog who’d been calmly riding my shoulder leaped off and made a mad, hopping dash in her direction.

“What? No thanks for the ride?” I called after him, but he was clearly an amphibian on a mission. He hopped right up to Harp’s feet and let out the most plaintive ribbit I’d ever heard.

“Why, hello there.” Harp smiled and held her hands out invitingly. The frog didn’t hesitate. He jumped right up onto her waiting palms. “Aren’t you the cutest thing?” she cooed, lifting him up so that they were eye-to-eye. “Why, I—” Her smile wavered, a look of confusion creeping onto her face.

“Do I… know you?”

Ollie let out another ribbit and rubbed his head against Harp’s thumb. She stared down at him, lips parted in an “oh”. A tear slipped down her cheek.

I glanced at Mariana, but she only shrugged, looking as confused as I felt.

“Harp?” I asked tentatively. “Is… something wrong?”

“I don’t know, I…” She sniffled while another tear wet the opposite cheek. “I just have this overwhelming feeling, like I should know who this is. But that’s crazy, right? Because I’m a harp, and this is a frog, and I’ve never even been in this room before…"

“For what it’s worth, it looks like he knows you, too,” I pointed out, and the frog’s head bobbed up and down in an eager nod.

“We know each other?” Harp asked, and the frog nodded again. “How? Have you been to the other rooms, or… oh! Are you one of the giants, only transformed by the curse?"

Ollie started to shake his head, then paused, rubbing a four-fingered hand over his face in frustration.

“If only you could speak,” Harp sighed.

“He can’t talk,” I reasoned, “but maybe he can draw. I have some paper and ink inside the shelter. Why don’t I carry you inside, and we’ll see what we can come up with?”

“Oh, yes, please,” Harp exclaimed, her eyes lighting with excitement. “What about you, Mariana? Are you coming?”

Mariana shook her head as she filled my iron cook pot with well water. “I want to get this potion done before the sun goes down. I’ll meet you guys inside when I’m done, and you can fill me in on what I missed.”

I hesitated, noting the stiff set of her shoulders and the tension lining her jaw. She was still worried about her friends, but at least she had something constructive to focus on. And as much as I wanted to bend down and place a kiss on each of those tiny little stress wrinkles, a Mari on a mission wasn’t someone you wanted to interrupt. Even ten years wasn’t long enough for me to forget that much. So, instead, I squatted down, hefted Harp up onto my shoulder, and proceeded to do a five-minute dance with the door before figuring out how to angle us both inside the cramped structure.

“Sorry,” I muttered, hurriedly rolling up the map we’d left splayed across the table and searching my stuffed chest for the necessary items. “I’ve been meaning to reorganize…” I spied a roll of parchment and snatched it up. “Aha! Here we are. Now all we need is…” I pushed a glass jar full of mushrooms to the side and pulled out a half-empty pot of ink. “This!”

Ollie hopped from Harp’s hands to the table, where I spread the blank paper. I furrowed my brow, looking from the ink pot to the waiting amphibian. “I guess I’ll just put some here like this?” I poured a small puddle of ink onto the corner of the paper, and the frog hopped over to inspect it. He tentatively dipped a webbed hand in the pooled ink and pressed a mark onto the paper. The result must have been satisfactory enough, as he dipped his hand again before moving to an empty space and swirling a single finger across the blank surface.

Dip, hop, swirl. Dip, hop, swirl.

Harp and I watched in fascination while a rudimentary picture unfurled before our eyes. There was a little house with four stick figures grouped beside it, and the frog gave one of them long hair and a wide open mouth, with music notes inked all around her. He jabbed a finger at this one then pointed up at Harp.

“Is that… me?” she breathed, fingers stretching out as if to touch the still-wet ink.

Ollie nodded eagerly, then pointed at the shorter stick figure standing on the end beside the singing girl before pointing at himself.

Harp sucked in a sharp gasp. “And that’s you?”

Ollie did a victorious little jig.

I looked back and forth between the two in confusion. “So, you two used to live together? As humans?” The frog’s face wrinkled in concentration, and he painstakingly wrote out six sloppy letters: b-r-u-f-e-r . “Brother?” My jaw dropped. “Your Harp’s brother ?”

The frog leapt into the air, his body twisting happily. Harp’s hands framed her cheeks, her expression alternating between shock and confusion. But then, slowly, she lowered her hands while a look of awed realization took over. “You had brown hair and… hazel eyes,” she whispered. The frog hopped to the edge of the table, his bulging eyes shining as he gazed up at her.

“There was a dusting of freckles on your nose,” she continued in that same, hushed tone. “But it was hardly noticeable beneath the smudges of dirt.” She brushed a trembling finger over her own nose. “You used to sneak into my room when our parents were fighting.” Her eyes widened. “I would sing you to sleep.” Her voice cracked. “How could I have forgotten that? Forgotten you? ”

She placed her hand on the table, and the frog padded onto her raised palm as she breathed, “Danny.”

The pair stared solemnly into each other’s eyes, and when the silence stretched to an awkward length, I quietly asked, “Harp? Would you like a minute alone with your brother?” I glanced out the window—the sun was almost down, and I could just make out Mariana while she packed up her satchel and doused the fire.

“No,” Harp said. “Stay.” A wrinkle appeared between her brows, and she added, “And it’s not Harp, actually. My name is… is…” The wrinkle deepened, but then her face broke out in a bright smile. “Annabelle—Annabelle Elizabeth Greene.”

“You used to be human.” I glanced down at the frog curled up on her palm. “Did the giants turn you into an instrument? Or did that happen before you came here?”

Harp—that is, Annabelle—frowned. “I’m not sure. It’s all still a little fuzzy, but I’m fairly certain I came here as a human. They were having some sort of festival, and I was here as a performer.” She glanced over her shoulder when the door swung open, and Mariana came inside, her hands full of the newly made potion and torn satchel.

She set them both on the table beside the frog’s crude drawing, her brow arching at the word “brufer” scrawled beside the littlest stick figure. “I, uh, finished the potion…”

I clapped my hands together. “Excellent. Oh, and have you met Danny? Apparently I’ve been calling him by the wrong name all these years. Turns out he and Annabelle-not-Harp used to be humans way back when. And siblings.”

Mariana nodded slowly, as if this news made total sense and wasn’t the least bit bananas. She reached inside the satchel. “Well, seeing as we already know Annabelle here was turned into a harp a few years before the curse set in, then that begs the question, little Danny the Frog”—she pulled out the golden egg and slapped it onto the table—“was it the curse you unleashed on the castle that turned you into an amphibian, or was it something else entirely?”

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