The Frog Princess (6 page)

"Do you want some?" Eadric said through a mouthful of worm.

I spun around in surprise. "What are you doing? I thought you were sick to your stomach. You shouldn't eat any of that—it might be poisoned! Spit it out! Spit it out right now!"

"Are you kidding? This is delicious. It's not poisoned. Here, try some."

"Great," I said. "I'm stuck in a cage with an idiot who eats food given to him by a witch and will probably be dead by morning."

"Hey, I'm not the one who's going to bed hungry. You are such a worrier! I've eaten half of this worm already and I still feel fine. If you're sure you don't want any, I'm going to finish the worm and get some sleep. We'll think of a way to get out of this in the morning. Now, leave me alone and let me enjoy my worm in peace. Unlike someone else around here, I know how to appreciate the finer things in life."

Furious, I went to the back of the cage, as far from Eadric as I could get, and tried to shut out the sound of munching. Although Eadric was soon asleep, I was too restless to lie down. I paced the width of the cage, the gritty floor crunching beneath my feet, but I couldn't sleep and I couldn't come up with an escape plan, either.

After a while I stopped talking to myself and listened to the sounds of the night. I'd heard something stirring at the other end of the room, a dry rustle that could have been caused by just about anything. Then something else moved overhead until it seemed to be right above me. Whatever else was in the room, I wasn't the only one who was awake. Suddenly, I had something else to make me nervous. Not knowing who or what might be there, I hunched down in the middle of the cage, hoping that the bars were as effective at keeping creatures out as they were at keeping us in. When I finally drifted off to sleep, it was to dreams of my family's dungeon and large, frog-eating worms that made me itch when they touched me.

Nine

I
t was the itching that woke me the next morning. The rash that I'd predicted the night before covered my back, and no matter how I twisted or turned, I couldn't reach all the itchy spots. I was getting desperate when I finally found that if I twisted around a certain way and rubbed against a bar of the cage, I could relieve some of the worst itching.

"You look like an old bear when you do that," said a voice from above. "Not that I've seen many old bears."

A bright shaft of sunlight came through a hole high on the wall, in the general direction from which the voice had come. At first I thought I might be having a divine visitation, but the voice had been high and squeaky, not at all the sort of voice I thought would belong to a divine being.
Maybe it's a trick,
I thought. But it couldn't be Eadric. He was still sound asleep. It wasn't the witch, either. I could see her lying on her back with her head turned to the side. Her mouth was open, drool trickling onto the thin mattress with the stained gray cover.

"Where are you?" I asked, squinting through the shaft of sunlight and the dancing dust motes. Other than the cracks in the shutters covering the two windows, the hole in the wall was the only source of light in the room.

"I'm up here," squeaked the voice. "By the rafters."

I looked toward the ceiling. A tiny patch of darkness seemed to shift, but I couldn't be sure. "Sorry," I said. "I can't really make you out from here "

"But I'm right... oh, forget it. Here, is this better?"

A bit of shadow detached itself from the rafter and flapped down into the dimly lit room. "Oh, my," I said, taken by surprise. It was a bat. As a rule, I didn't like bats, although I'd never encountered one in person before. It -was just that I'd heard so many bad things about them.

"Are you satisfied yet? Can I go back to my rafter now?" the bat asked.

"Of course!" I said, embarrassed by my bad manners. "I didn't mean to inconvenience you."

"Inconvenience! My, aren't you a nice little frog! None of the other idiots around here would ever think about what is or isn't convenient for me. Take that nasty little witch on the bed, for instance."

I turned toward the witch in the back of the room, afraid that she might be awake and listening. "Don't worry," said the bat. "Vannabe's still asleep. I always know when she's awake, believe me. Anyway, she never thinks about what's convenient for me. It's always 'Go away, ya stupid bat!' or 'Get that bug, ya stupid bat!' If I didn't know better, I'd think my name was Stupid Bat. It isn't, of course. It's Li'l Stinker. That's what my first mistress named me when I was a youngster. Now, that woman was far more considerate. She used to say, 'Li'l Stinker, you'd better get that fat, juicy bug or you won't have any dinner tonight.' See what I mean? She was a much more thoughtful person."

I was beginning to feel overwhelmed. I had always thought that bats were quiet creatures, but this bat could talk more than anyone I'd ever met.

I rubbed my back against the bar again. The rash was itching more now and was spreading to my chest.

"I couldn't help but hear you talking to Vannabe last night," said Li'l. "You can talk to humans, huh? That's too bad. The only humans I can talk to are witches with the talent and that's the way I like it. So, did your friend eat the worm?"

"He sure did. He ate the whole thing. I was afraid that he'd be poisoned, but he's fine."

"I wouldn't say that exactly. He's still asleep, isn't he?'

"Well, yes, but neither of us has gotten much sleep lately. He's really tired."

"Is that it? Go shake him and wake him up."

"I was going to let him sleep for a while. He needs his rest."

"Go shake him now and see what he does."

"I'd rather not."

"Just do it! It's for your own good!"

It was obvious that the bossy little bat was going to pester me until I did what she'd said. Reluctantly, I hopped to Eadric's side and gently shook his shoulder. He continued to snore. I shook him harder. He snorted and rolled over.

"I can't seem to wake him," I said, frowning.

"Of course not. You won't be able to if he ate that worm! Didn't you see that vial Vannabe had in her hand? It was sleeping potion. A tiny drop and you'll sleep for days. What do you think those witches used to help Sleeping Beauty and Snow White get all that beauty rest? A full vial can knock you out for a hundred years or more. Now, unless you want to take a very long nap, I suggest that you don't let the witch know that you're still awake. Go curl up somewhere and pretend that you're asleep or she'll find another way to give you that potion. She has her reasons for wanting you two to stay quiet. Now watch out!" Li'l Stinker said softly. "She's waking up."

I scurried to the back of the cage and pretended to be asleep, just in case the bat was right. With my eyes half closed, I watched Vannabe yawn, sit up, and scratch her ribs. Drool shone wetly on her cheek, but she didn't seem to notice. Kicking off the grimy blanket, she swung her feet to the floor.

"What are you looking at?" Vannabe said grumpily, looking up at the bat. Li'l Stinker didn't give her an answer, but the witch obviously didn't expect one, for she stood up and shuffled across the room without another word.

Still in her bare feet, Vannabe went out the door, leaving it open. I thought the fresh air would be a relief, but instead it stirred up the dust in the room and recirculated the odor of unwashed clothes, filthy cages, bat droppings, and old grease. I was almost happy to see the witch come back inside and close the door behind her.

Still scratching her ribs, Vannabe shuffled to the fireplace, where she bent over the fire, her back to our cage. She lifted a wooden spoon from a hook on the wall and stirred something in a greasy black pot. Then she took it to the table in the middle of the room and sat down to eat. When she was finished, she scraped the bottom of the pot with her wooden spoon.

"Here now, can't have anyone go hungry with all this good food around, can we?" said the witch as she walked toward our side of the room. "Don't eat it all at once, 'cause you won't be getting any more today."

My view was blocked by a stack of books on one side and a collection of bottles on the other, but I could hear other creatures moving about in their cages as the witch gave each of them their own dollop of food.

When the witch came near our cage, I kept my eyes closed and made my breath come slowly and evenly, trying to make it sound like Eadric's. Vannabe opened the cage door and I thought my heart would beat its way out of my chest, but I willed myself to hold still. Even when a long fingernail poked me in the ribs, I kept my eyes closed and stayed as limp as I could. "Princess, huh?" Vannabe's voice was harsh and mocking. "What's it like being a frog, Miss High and Mighty?"

The hand moved away and I refused to look, picturing Eadric receiving the same treatment. "As for you, Prince ... slain any dragons lately, or is it dragonflies now?" Vannabe laughed, the shrill sound grating on my eardrums.
And people say that I have a strange laugh,
I thought.

When the cage door had shut with a soft click and I was sure that the witch had moved away, I opened my eyes to slits and was relieved to see her pick up her sack from the floor and head out the door. "Behave yourselves, vermin!" she told the animals. "No wild parties while I'm gone!" Laughing, the witch slammed the door behind her.

With the witch gone, I could finally relax. I bent my leg and scratched my back with my toe, but I still couldn't reach the really itchy spots.

For the first time I was able to take a better look at my surroundings. The cottage was small, with the witch's bed against the wall opposite the only door. Li'l Stinker hung from a rough-hewn rafter near the front of the cottage and appeared to be asleep. Birds' bones suspended from a frayed cord clattered together. Our cage rested on a dust-covered shelf next to a stack of books. The skull of an unborn baby dragon sat on top of the books, the dust so thick that the eye sockets were nearly filled.

A collection of jars and bottles stood on the other side of the cage. They were all labeled, although some of the labels were turned so that I couldn't read them. Rabbits' ears, cats' tails, and wild boars' tusks filled some of the larger jars, and crystals and dried compounds filled others. One jar was filled with dark blue, fuzzy clumps and was labeled
Troll Navel Tint.
Another contained smooth white balls suspended in a clear liquid. When one bobbed about, turning to stare at me, I gasped: they were eyeballs, obviously alive, from the way they jostled for position. I quickly realized that there were other jars with living contents, like the squirming, puckering pieces of green flesh in a jar labeled
Lizard
Lips
and the wrinkled, snuffling
Pig Snouts.
The contents of one slim vial may not have been alive, but the colored gases swirled, mixing and separating in intricate, never-repeating patterns.

Something thumped by the fireplace and I scurried across my cage to look. There was nothing there but an old stick used for poking logs and two crudely constructed barrels, one labeled
Trash Can,
the other
Trash Can't.
The Trash Can was uncovered. When I listened carefully, I thought I could hear something gurgling inside. A wooden lid covered the Trash Can't and as I watched, I could see the whole thing shake and thump. To my surprise, I could also hear creatures calling from other cages.

"Who are they?" squeaked one voice.

"I don't know, but I heard one of them talking to Li'l Stinker." The speaker's voice was so faint and breathy that I had to strain to hear it.

"Do you think she'll introduce us?"

"I don't know. Ask Miss Bossy. You know she always has to be in charge."

"I'd be happy to," interrupted the bat. "But I don't know their names yet. Hey there, Frog!"

Because I'd heard the entire conversation, I was ready when Li'l called to me. "I'm Emma and this is Eadric," I began. "We're both enchanted frogs. I'm a princess and Eadric is really a prince."

I had never heard animals howl with laughter before. It would have made me feel defensive if they hadn't sounded so funny. I began to laugh, too, and suddenly I felt the best I had in days.

Li'l shifted around on her perch until she faced me again and waited until my laughter grew weak enough that I could hear her. "That's some laugh you have there, Princess!" Li'l declared as I hiccuped my way to silence. "Did you get that when you became a frog or have you had it all along?"

"It's my laugh no matter who or what I am. My real name is Princess Emeralda, and his is Prince Eadric. I'm the only child of King Limelyn and Queen Chartreuse of the Kingdom of Greater Greensward. Eadric is the eldest son of the rulers of Upper Montevista." Proud of my royal heritage, I was sure that these creatures couldn't help but respect me now, so I was stunned by the reception my news received.

"Yeah, right," squeaked a voice.

"Then I'm King Mouseworthy!" squeaked another.

The creatures acted as if they'd heard the funniest thing in the world. Li'l Stinker laughed so hard that she tumbled off her rafter and flapped wildly, trying to regain her balance.

Indignant, I tried to shout over their laughter. "But I really am a princess! I can play the lute and embroider and sing and dance and do all the other things that princesses are supposed to do, although not as well as my mother would like. I can also do some other things that most princesses can't do. I can count and read and—"

"Did you say read?" asked Li'l, suddenly becoming serious.

"Why, yes," I said. "And I can swim, although I couldn't do that before I became a frog. I can—"

"All right! I believe you! That's quite a list of accomplishments," said Li'l.

"It sure is!" chimed in a breathy voice. "I wish I could count. It would probably help me with some of my patterns."

My legs were beginning to itch. The rash was spreading. "Now it's your turn," I said, feeling moderately appeased. "I want to hear everyone else's names."

"That's easy enough," said the bat. "I'm Li'l, as you know, and in the cage below you are the spiders, Eenie, Meenie, and Moe. They used to live by the broom in the corner, but Vannabe found them and stuck them in a cage."

"We had another brother named Miney," whispered a tiny voice, "but the witch stepped on him when she caught us."

"I'm so sorry!" I said, furiously scratching behind my eardrum.

"It's one of the hazards of being a spider," said the voice sadly.

"Clifford and Louise live in the cage next to the spiders," continued Li'l. "Clifford and Louise are the mice who used to live under the bed. They've been together for a long time, so they tend to finish each other's sentences."

"Vannabe said she got tired—"

"—of hearing us scurry around."

"She put us in the cage—"

"—and we don't have anywhere to go."

"It's so boring!"

"We used to have the best adventures!"

"You wouldn't believe—"

"—what we found in the walls!"

"Some things are better left alone," said Li'l. "And that brings us to Fang. Fang has lived here since Vannabe moved in. She found him in the yard and put him in a cage her very first day. Fang doesn't talk much, so I'll tell you a bit about him. His cage is on the floor in the corner. It's the biggest cage in the cottage, but it's not nearly big enough for Fang. He was a large snake when he got here and he's grown since then."