Page 18 of The Frog Prince
Otto hadn’t come.
Four
Otto
The path out of the forest still wound and stretched in all directions with no meaning to him. Yet the small frogs that led the way seemed to have no such troubles. They barely paused for breaks, leaving Otto panting and struggling to keep up after his exhausting journey to find the Frog Prince in the first place.
He never once fell to his knees, however. The precious medicine he held in his grasp and the time he had wasted away from his sister were enough to push him onward with little more than his flask of water to keep him going.
On and on, step by hop, a full day and much of a night must have passed before he saw a break in the trees, blessed light beckoning him.
Delirious with exhaustion, Otto felt like weeping at its presence as he stumbled out with a gasp, turning his face up with his arms hanging heavy at his sides.
The sun’s rays filtered past the grime and dirt that clung to his skin and bones, chasing away the nightmares of the forest.
But not ridding him of them.
He looked back toward the trees as he felt multiple eyes on him, bulging, watching from the darkness.
He shivered, a flash of an intelligent, unnatural gaze replacing them, boring into him.
“Return three days hence. I shall be waiting, Otto.”
Stomach churning, he turned away and tried to orient himself, quickly realizing he was back at his village.
It was nothing much, small and run-down, as sickly as its occupants. The kingdom used it as a rest spot for those traveling through the forest—a necessity not worth pouring any amount of resources into besides making sure it still stood in the middle of a famine. There was one tavern, a few failing farms, and some other merchants hoping to make trade with the little they had. The rest were the houses of the hardworking people just trying to make a living in a kingdom that never had their best interests at heart, in a town that had all but been forgotten.
The Frog Prince had not only guided him out of the forest, he had brought him home.
So I can return faster.
Otto swallowed and began to run on his shaky legs, like he could outrun his thoughts as well as the deal he had just made.
“Otto!” he heard someone shout. “Otto is back from the forest!”
Whispers and shouts began to break out against the ever-present backdrop of coughing and sniffling. People gave Otto startled looks as he took the shortcut behind the tavern. He spotted their small home on the western side of the village,where the forest wrapped around, just far enough from the main village to give some semblance of privacy. The overgrown shrubbery almost completely blocked the lower level of the house from view, only its pointed roof and upper windows cresting overtop.
That wasn’t where he ran to, however.
He stopped at a smaller house on the way—red and squat, with a thatched roof and black timbering showing, but homely enough, with a rough and barren vegetable patch out front and sheets hung up to dry.
He knocked frantically on the door, desperately trying to catch his breath as he looked over his shoulder to make sure no one, and nothing, was following him.
The door swung open to reveal a small woman with greying hair under a tied wrap of simple fabric. The apron over her long green gown had some dirt stains at the knees.
“Otto!” she gasped, brown eyes widening. “You’ve returned!”
“How is she?” he asked immediately, dreading tragic news.
“Are you well? You look as if the forest itself chewed you up and spat you out! Come, sit down before you fall over.”
Otto braced himself on the wall as she pulled him inside, refusing her gentle nudges to go farther. “Liesel, please. How is Gisela?”
“Alive, but sleeping fitfully.” Her eyes grew watery with worry and grief. “Her coughing fits have been getting worse, and when they are over, she can barely sit up… Otto, I fear she doesn’t have long left…”
Otto clutched the medicine in his hand tighter.
“Thank you for caring for her in my absence,” he said. “I’ll see her now.”
