Chapter Eight

Ari woke to the patter of rain on his head. He stretched his leg, confused, and experienced a shock as the limb in question shot out behind him with unnerving force and at an impossible angle.

Oh, that was right. He was a frog.

If frogs could groan, Ari would have let out a powerful one. As it was, he only managed a miserable croak. He opened his eyes—great, bulging organs that they were—and squinted up into the light of the morning. He was sitting on a lily leaf near the edge of the pond. He could vaguely remember succumbing to his exhaustion, in defiance of the instinct that wanted him to be awake during the night.

He couldn't afford to be a nocturnal frog, though. Not if he was going to find a way to communicate with the humans whose help he needed to lift the curse.

Another splat fell on his head, and he realized that it wasn't rain at all. A goose glided across the surface of the water nearby, shaking its wings and splashing Ari in the process. Ari tried to hop off his leaf to the shore, but his ungainly legs sent him jerking in the wrong direction, and the next thing he knew he was adrift, his frantic strokes doing nothing to stop his steady descent to the bottom of the pond.

After a moment he gave up, letting himself drift until he hit the bottom with a soundless thud. His human mind screamed that he needed air, but when he paused to take stock of his frog body, he found that he didn't. No instinct was urging him to hurry to the surface, or to take a breath. He found he was quite satisfied, physically speaking.

Emotionally, he was anything but.

His arrival into the scum that was the floor of the pond prompted a flurry of movement. Following it, Ari saw another frog—bizarrely large to his eyes, given it was the same size as him—taking cover behind some weeds. The creature's eyes bulged with alarm as they rested on the newcomer. It was most likely the very frog he'd seen there the day before. The one that had unknowingly doomed him to his current predicament by being the last animal he saw before he was hit with the patchwork mess of magic released by those students.

What are you looking at?Ari thought mutinously. If I'm ugly, you're ugly.

Taking a moment to wallow in his misery, Ari looked around him. It was a piteous sight, that much was certain. So far the only benefit he could see to his frog form was that in spite of being fully submerged in a pond, he didn't feel in the least cold.

Small mercies.

Movement above drew his attention, and he looked up to see the goose from earlier coasting across the surface of the water. Its forward movement was smooth, but its webbed feet paddled comically below. Ari felt a pang of nostalgia. He remembered seeing his brothers paddle that way. They'd made fun of each other's awkward gait in the early days. As he watched, the goose flapped its wings, disturbing the water as it took to the sky.

Jealousy cut through Ari. It would be so much better to be that goose, winging its way to freedom from the surface, than a frog stuck at the bottom of the pond.

No!he told himself severely. Stop that. Had he lost his mind? He didn't want to be a goose. He wanted to be his own human self again! Honestly. He'd never thought he'd see the day when he'd wish he was a waterfowl again.

Steeling himself for an extended journey, Ari pushed himself up with his long back legs. He was an awkward swimmer as a frog, but eventually he managed to reach the edge of the pond. He pulled himself out, having to fight an old, redundant instinct that told him to shake out his wings.

What a mess his mind was. What would he be like when he was a man again? How many magical transformations could a human body sustain before the mind attached to it became permanently addled?

Free of the water, Ari began his tortuous journey toward the castle. Based on the light around him, his best guess was that it was about noon. Clearly his frog instincts had tried to get him to sleep during the day. He would have to be intentional about stopping himself from slipping naturally into a nocturnal sleep cycle.

He'd barely moved away from the water when a shadow loomed suddenly over him. Startled, Ari looked up to see an enormous heron. At least, it looked enormous to a frog. He barely moved in time to dodge its abrupt attack, leaping frantically out of the way of its beak. Fear riding him, he pushed himself forward, his long legs moving with panicked speed as he hopped into a bush. He tried to stay under the cover of the leaves as he lurched unevenly in the direction of the castle. The idea of dying by means of becoming a heron's breakfast was unthinkable.

To his great relief, the heron seemed to lose interest in its fleeing prey as Ari got further from the water. Soon the bird returned to the pond, and he was able to continue more slowly, albeit much more cautiously. His gait was still awkward, and his progress wasn't as quick as he'd like. But no other creatures in the garden took the least notice of him, and it was only once he reached the building that his concern returned. Common sense prodded him to avoid being seen by humans as much as possible, causing him to go even more slowly as he dodged behind plinths and around corners to avoid guards and servants.

He made his way through the corridors, not sure of the best direction to take. When he got his bearings and realized he wasn't far from the dining hall, he decided it was as good a destination as any. With any luck, he'd find Obsidian present this time. Those with magic—enchanters, enchantresses, and dragons—could innately sense its presence. Surely the enchanter would recognize the magic on the intruding frog, even if he didn't know at once what it meant. One way or another, Ari would find a way out of his predicament. Last time, he'd spent six years as a swan. He was determined not to let it be a long-term situation this time. How long did frogs even live?

Ari was just making his uneven way around the last corner before the dining hall when he heard a familiar voice.

"Is my brother already at luncheon?"

Violet!

Excitement coursed through him, and he put on an extra burst of speed. Unfortunately his coordination wasn't equal to his energy. His back legs propelled him forward powerfully, but his balance was off, and all he managed to do was to go flying into a suit of armor with a deafening clang.

"What was that?" Violet asked mildly.

Ari peeled himself off one of the metal plates that would protect the shin of anyone wearing the armor. His vision spun as he fell to the floor, trying to get his bearings. The next thing he knew, Violet's face swam into view, as large as a giant's.

"What are you doing here, little fella?" she asked, in much the same voice he'd heard her use on her nieces and nephew.

"Ugh, get back, Your Highness!" shrieked a nearby servant. "It's a frog!"

"Yes, I can see that it's a frog," Violet said, sounding amused. "It won't hurt me, you know."

"But it might have…diseases," protested the maid.

Very impolite, Ari thought, sending an amphibian frown toward the servant in question.

"I'll take care of it, Your Highness," said a gruff new voice.

A guard strode forward with purpose, lifting his spear meaningfully so that the butt of it loomed over Ari's head. Alarmed, Ari tried to hop to shelter, but Violet's hand shot out, trapping him.

"Nonsense, there's no need to kill the poor creature! Like I said, it won't do any harm. It must have come in from the garden and gotten lost. All it needs is a ride back to the pond."

"Surely you're not going to carry the creature around, Your Highness!" gasped the maid.

"I surely am," said Violet, unperturbed. With a firm but painless grip, she lifted Ari to shoulder height, taking a good look at him. "You're a very nice-looking frog," she informed him politely. "Very striking yellow stripes. And hardly a wart to be seen."

Such charming compliments,Ari thought dryly, for a moment almost forgetting that she couldn't hear his response to her banter. It felt oddly like their usual interactions. He wasn't sure whether to be warmed by how well he'd come to know her, or disheartened by the fact that she seemed to banter that way with everyone.

Even frogs.

"Let me take the frog for you, Your Highness," said the guard in a winning tone. Ari squirmed in Violet's grip, sure that the guard intended to squish him the moment the princess was out of sight rather than go to the hassle of returning him to the garden.

Thankfully, Violet seemed to suspect the same thing. "Thank you for the offer, but I'm afraid I don't trust you as far as I could throw you," she said cheerfully. "No offense." She looked down at Ari again. "No, I think I'll take responsibility for your safety, little frog."

Was it possible to feel demeaned and deeply comforted at the same time? Apparently it was.

Violet took half a step back the way Ari had come, but then a new voice wafted out from a nearby doorway. She turned, and Ari saw that Basil was striding out of the dining hall, in conversation with his steward.

"Basil!" Violet called, turning back. After a moment's hesitation, she shoved Ari in her pocket. "Sorry little one, but if I don't catch him now, I won't get a chance all afternoon." Her voice became muffled as Ari's entire world was enveloped in fabric. He squirmed around in Violet's pocket, getting into a position where he could breathe. It seemed the most he could hope for in the circumstances.

"Violet, there you are." Basil's voice was also deadened by the layers of Violet's gown, but Ari had no trouble making out his words. "I noticed you didn't make it to lunch. The food is still out."

"Never mind that, I can eat later," Violet told him quickly. "Can I have a word? It will only take a minute."

"Of course," said Basil.

Ari thought he sounded surprised, but most of his attention was on Violet. She seemed uncomfortable again. It was the same unease he'd observed multiple times, and he was amazed he could sense it so tangibly even without being able to see her face. It radiated from her.

Violet began to move, meaning that Ari was being jostled as well as being smothered. Yet he couldn't regret their encounter. He didn't even feel overly guilty about the fact that he was about to eavesdrop on her conversation with her brother. Somehow, when he was an animal, the same rules didn't seem to apply in his mind. It had been that way when he was a swan. If he was about to have the opportunity to discover what was really behind Violet's unease, he'd welcome it. Besides, he honestly wasn't sure he could get out of the pocket if he tried.

Violet walked only a short distance before she stopped, and a door clicked audibly closed. It seemed she and her brother were alone in a room. Or at least, as far as they were aware.

"Is everything all right, Violet?" Basil's voice asked in a muffled tone.

"Better than all right." Even from within her pocket, Ari could tell that Violet's cheerful tone was forced. "I have a solution to our merchant crisis."

"Really?" Basil's hopeful voice told Ari that Wren hadn't overstated how dire was the conflict with the Merchants' Guild. "What solution?"

"It's all about ego, really," Violet said. "As I could tell from the start. Ulrich is the key, and his son Yannick is the way to get through to him."

"Your meetings with Yannick have been productive, then?" Basil asked eagerly.

"They have," Violet confirmed, and Ari could feel her shift her weight from one foot to the other. "Yannick is willing to reason with his father. He's given me his word that he'll convince Ulrich to back down about the Mistran merchants under…certain circumstances."

"What circumstances?" Basil asked, suspicion creeping back into his voice.

"The first of them is that Yannick wishes to come and stay in the castle as a guest for a little while," Violet said. "As soon as possible."

Ari blinked, his bulbous eyes unseeing in the darkness of Violet's pocket. He didn't like the idea of Yannick in the castle. He didn't like it at all. He was honest enough to acknowledge that he'd felt some jealousy when he saw Violet hole herself up with the young merchant a short time before. But it wasn't just his own attraction to Violet that made him frown on the idea. It was also the discomfort he'd observed when Violet interacted with Yannick.

And even disregarding both of those points, it was frankly an odd request. Apparently Basil thought so too.

"Why?" demanded the young king.

"Like I said, it's really all about ego," said Violet, a little too airily. "All the talk of profits is really about influence, and the matter of influence comes back to pride. He wants some recognition, to be made a fuss of."

"That's it?" Basil asked, clearly skeptical.

Violet's skirts lifted as she shrugged, her elbow pressing in to the top of her pocket. "That's the start. We've discussed other measures as well—nothing we wouldn't agree to—but that's his first request."

"As to what we will or won't agree to, I'll reserve judgment," Basil said dryly. "But his request to be invited to the castle we can certainly accommodate. I can draw up an official invitation, pander to his and his father's consequence enough to satisfy even the largest of heads."

Ari could hear Violet's grin in her voice. "I knew you wouldn't get on your high horse about it."

"I have much less interest in my pride than in avoiding a merchants' embargo on the city," Basil said flatly. "You can tell him I'll make it happen."

"I already have, actually," Violet admitted. Again Ari could tell she was grinning. "I was pretty confident of my ability to talk you around."

"Vixen," said Basil without heat. "Thanks Violet, you're doing incredible work with the merchants. I don't know what I'd do without you."

"Of course," Violet replied.

Ari heard the king's firm tread, but it stopped before there was any sound of a door opening.

"I hope you don't misunderstand me when I say that, Violet," Basil said, his voice more serious. "I'm glad of your help, but of course I could manage without you. That's my role, and my responsibility. I don't want you to involve yourself even a moment beyond what you're comfortable with. It's not on your shoulders to solve this crisis."

"It is," said Violet calmly. "And I don't mean that in a critical way. But you delegated the task to me, Basil, and I accepted it. You have to let me follow through. I know you don't want any of us to feel pressured, but the truth is you do need help. You can't do everything by yourself. You told us when Father died that you weren't going to try, that you'd need all the help you can get. But it's as though the curse changed your mind. I know you wish you'd somehow prevented it, but there was nothing you could have done. And it's time to let go of the overprotective determination it created in you to shield us from any inconvenience or responsibility."

Basil's sigh was audible. "You're right," he acknowledged. "And I know I can't do everything by myself. But I meant what I said. I don't want you doing anything you're uncomfortable with."

Violet didn't answer, just fidgeting with a distinct lack of her usual self-possession.

"I'll speak to the steward about accommodating Yannick," said Basil, with a return to his habitual brisk manner. "As soon as is practical."

On this pronouncement Basil left the room in earnest, but Violet stayed where she was. Ari was also motionless, pondering the king's words. Was it just general brotherly protectiveness, overlaid with the guilt Violet had referenced, a lingering effect of the curse that had gripped all twelve of the king's sisters? Or had Basil, like Ari, noticed that Violet seemed uncomfortable whenever the Merchants' Guild came up, or when she spoke of Ulrich and his son Yannick?

Well, whether or not Basil had picked up on it, Ari had. And reclaiming his human form was no longer his only mission, especially if this Yannick was to be staying in the castle itself. Obviously lifting the curse was still his most pressing priority. But in the meantime he would make a point of keeping an eye on this Yannick.

Or to be more precise, two unsettlingly bulging eyes.