Page 66 of Charmed

He frowned at the space dividing us. “It seems too far. With the force siphoning my magic and the magical creatures that live in the forest, there’s a high probability we could be attacked during the night. Perhaps I should teach you some defensive spells.”

“With your current limits on your power, it seems wiser to wait until after the end of the competition,” I said. “If we encounter unexpected danger during the night, you can serve as bait while I make my escape.”

His eyes bulged. “You’d truly sacrifice a prince for your own sake?” He looked so shocked by the idea that for a moment I wondered if he was truly offended…before I detected a glisten of mischief that revealed he was teasing.

I waggled my finger in a back and forth motion. “That won’t do, Your Highness. You can’t pick and choose when your title is convenient to fall back on and disregard it every other time.”

“It already proved useless when I tried to convince you to allow me to give up my bed.” He heaved an exaggerated sigh; his feigned dejection was rather adorable, filling me with emotions that weren’t the most prudent to experience when we were about to sleep near one another.

Our lighthearted teasing was a welcome distraction from the problem heavy on both of our minds—Alden’s weakening magic meant he might not have the amount required to defend himself should the need arise while also protecting me. Though he didn’t voice his worries, I could tell his weakening powers weighed on him.

There had to be something more I could do to help beyond the occasional advice or role of confidante. The desire grew, a force similar to my need to help my brother, yet somehow stronger despite Alden’s situation not being nearly as dire as Corbin’s challenges. But though my brother lived in constant awareness that his condition might eventually rob him of his life, should Alden lose the last of his powers it’d be his sense of purpose that was taken from him. I analyzed the riddle from every angle, seeming impossible to solve with the blanks in my understanding.

I reached within myself to draw upon my own well of powers; the magic simmering beneath my skin instantly answered my silent call. I wriggled my fingers experimentally, exploring. Though I was still acquainting myself with my powers, I’d grown familiar enough with them to know that whatever force suppressed Alden’s magic hadn’t tainted my own…at least as far as I could tell. Should Alden completely lose his powers, would I be able to lend him mine?

Gradually an idea on how I could guarantee their protection began to form, one I needed to implement as soon as possible; it was a race against time and the unpredictable whims of the invisible ominous force preying on Alden’s magic.

I waited until he fell asleep. It seemed to take him longer than usual as he moved quietly but restlessly on his bedroll, making me idly wonder if our proximity affected his nerves as much as it did mine. Doubtful, considering he likely didn’t harbor feelings towards me beyond friendship and his role of mentor.

Eventually the lure of sleep claimed him. I measured his rhythmic breaths for nearly an hour before easing up from my bedroll. My movements were cautious and my footsteps quiet as I gathered his cauldron and ventured a short distance away, far enough that he wouldn’t be awakened by the firelight beneath the cauldron or the sounds of the brewing potion.

I went to work on creating the potion I never imagined I’d create intentionally. My previous experience made each step in the recipe simple to execute. A handful of conjured light aided my search for the ingredients, common enough I managed to easily procure them within this forest where enchanted plants grew in abundance.

I worked quickly and efficiently, only slowing upon reaching the final ingredient. I carefully examined the dryas—this time to ensure it wasn’t filipendula, reassured by the small white flowers growing at the tips, aglow beneath the silvery moonlight.

The spellbook hovered close by as I worked, following me into the forest and observing curiously as I prepared the ingredients. When I lifted the handful of dryas and held it over the cauldron, its pages fluttered in shocked panic for a moment before gradually stilling and giving me what almost looked like a nod, as though it realized what I was doing and agreed with me.

With a wavering breath I dropped the herb into the potion. A cloud of thick, green smoke rose to engulf me, followed by the familiar tingling that started in my limbs as I felt my body transform. When the magic faded, I was a frog once more.

I hopped back to my bedroll and spent the remainder of the night on my pillow. Worry over Alden’s impending reaction prevented me from capturing more than a few handfuls of sleep. He would not be happy to learn what I’d done, but the man was too stubborn to accept my help should I have consulted him, and my determination compelled me to dosomething.

He rose when the first sign of dawn lit the sky in rosy hues of light. As he stretched, he cast a shy glance towards my bedroll…only to find it empty, my now diminutive form masked by the lingering shadows brought by the fading night.

He bolted upright, eyes wild with panic. “Mae?”

“I’m here.” At least that’s what Itriedto say, but all that came out was aribbitin my distinguished frog timbre, the communication spell that had previously granted me speech having faded once I’d transformed back into a human.

Oh bother.

Alden scrambled to his feet, looking wildly around, his gaze far above the ground as he searched for my human form. He eventually noticed my hopping around at his feet and crouched down to gently pick me up and raise me to eye level.

“Mae?”

Unable to speak the confirmation, I nodded. His brows drew together.

“You’re a frog again. What happened? Did I not fully break the curse when you transformed back the first time?”

Without the communication spell I couldn’t explain what had happened. I felt a pinprick of guilt that my spontaneous decision to transform back into a frog would force him to use some of his precious reserves of magic for my sake.

I tapped my throat and he immediately obliged by gathering a handful of magic, wincing slightly as he cast it; I didn’t miss the way he shook his fingers as the precious magic left him. The spell settled over me, reaching inside to transform my indiscernible croaks into human speech. When the magic faded, I tentatively tested my new voice.

“Why did you waste your precious magic on such a frivolous spell?”

“I didn’twasteit; I enjoy talking to you.” He made the admission shyly.

I wanted to add my own confession of how much I enjoyed my time with him, but my own shyness proved its own curse too formidable for me to so easily overcome.

His shoulders had relaxed at the spell’s success before worry caused his posture to stiffen once more. “Besides, you’re supposed to be advising me; how can you do that if we can’t communicate? But more importantly, what happened that turned you back into a frog? Don’t tell me you mixed up the filipendula and dryasagain.”

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