Frogs & Fae: A Frog Prince Retelling (Tales of Fae) Read online

  FROGS & FAE

  A FROG PRINCE RETELLING

  A TALES OF FAE NOVELETTE

  Frogs & Fae by Kara Jaynes

  Copyright Kara Jaynes 2017.

  All Rights Reserved.

  Cover Designer: GermanCreative

  The stories, characters, and incidents mentioned or depicted in this publication are entirely fictional.

  No portion of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means without written permission from the copyright holder.

  1.

  Lillian was of the opinion that doorways were a sort of magic. They always worked that way in stories. One never quite knew what lay beyond them, and even stepping through one that led to a place as common as the backyard could change one's life, forever. But, look as she might, Lillian had yet to find and go through a door that had magical, life-changing properties.

  Magic she did have, however, just not in the form of doorways that would lead her from her less than desirable living situation.

  Lillian wielded druid magic. She had a knack for coaxing seeds to sprout, roots to grow, and had a way with animals that most people didn’t. Her magic was something she had to keep a secret, however. But since her parents had died a few years ago, Lillian had been sent to live with her uncle, a man who didn’t tolerate magic in the slightest bit. Uncle was an Anti-fae, the local leader of a vast organization who hated fae, and all things magic.

  It was why Lillian was out in the forest right now. The woods were the only place she could safely practice her enchantment without being discovered. Her uncle had been busy with paperwork that morning, so Lillian had slipped outside, and spent most of the day in the forest.

  It was getting late, and twilight hung over the forest. She needed to get back to the manor before her uncle began looking for her, but she'd had such a wonderful day of coaxing flowers into bloom and helping birds build nests, that she didn’t want to leave.

  So she didn't, yet. She continued down the path, telling herself she'd only walk a little further. It was late winter, but it felt like spring. The days were getting warmer and longer, and the world seemed to be in a hurry to start the new season.

  Lillian paused on the path, the creature in front of her pulling her out of her thoughts.

  It was the largest frog she'd ever seen, looking up at her with a decidedly sour expression.

  “Hello,” she said pleasantly, crouching down to get a better look at it. “How are you?”

  It croaked mournfully. Lillian started in surprise, peering around when a chorus of frogs broke out all about her in the foliage, and nearby pond; croaking, chirping and squeaking.

  Beyond odd. Lillian glanced back to look at the giant frog, only to find him gone. The cacophony of noise fell away instantly.

  Lillian didn't consider herself a very knowledgeable druid, but even she found this strange. She rose and continued walking, a little more quickly than normal, readjusting the knot of the long ribbon she wore around her wrist. It was the only thing she had of her mother’s, and she wore it everywhere.

  Lillian walked for several minutes, stretching her senses, trying to find a creature that would test her ability. She wanted to tame an animal. Truly tame it. She could control smaller animals, temporarily, such as moles and sparrows, but she’d never managed to tame anything much larger.

  There. She sensed the presence of another animal and stepped off the path, into a small clearing, coming face-to-face with a stag.

  I'm not going to hurt you. I'm a friend. Lillian transferred her intentions to the deer and stepped closer. Closer.

  The stag watched her warily but didn't move, it's large eyes gazing into hers.

  Lillian inhaled deeply, and put a hand out, fingers trembling as she gently pet the stag’s nose.

  The animal snuffled at her hand, but otherwise, remained calm, letting her stroke it’s velvety muzzle.

  A soft gasp escaped Lillian’s lips. She did it! She’d tamed a deer. She stepped a little closer, intending to pet its ears, when her foot stepped on a small branch, the sound cracking through the stillness.

  The beast snorted in alarm and leaped away from her, its tail lifting as it bounded away, and was gone.

  “Aw, rot take it.” Lillian kicked at the offending branch. She already felt tired from the immense focus and spirit she’d used to get as close to the deer as she had.

  From the distant crack and crunch of foliage, the stag was already far away. There was no hope of getting close to it again. But still, she’d tamed a deer, however temporary. Though, she supposed, taming wasn’t quite the right word. But regardless, her strength in enchantment was growing.

  With a smile, Lillian readjusted the pack on her shoulders and headed back for home. She needed to get back and hide her rucksack— more importantly, its contents—before Uncle called for her. If he found out she was practicing magic . . . she gave a violent shudder and hurried through the forest, stepping onto the familiar path that would take her back to the manor.

  She glanced up at the sky, noting with a shiver of alarm that it was already quite dark. She’d been so intent on her druidry that she hadn’t noticed the twilight was nearly gone.

  Panic creeping up her spine, she pulled a small, gold ball out of her pack, and gave it a shake. A golden light sprang up from it, casting a golden glow about her. She began to run, holding the ball with one hand, and holding her skirts up to her knees with the other, using the light to see by. She had to hurry. She needed to get back. If she was late—no. She would not be late, because she was going to run the whole way. Panic was her constant companion as she ran, pressing in on her, making it hard to breathe.

  Time passed. The dark pressed about her, the forest beginning to fill with the sounds of night. Fear skittered up her spine. She'd never stayed out this late before. She was going to be soundly beat if she didn’t get back soon, and that was if she could manage to find her way to Uncle’s manor.

  She’d walked this path a hundred times before, but not in the dark, and not running for her life. Everything was strange and spooky. In her hurry, her foot caught on a tree root and down she went, followed by a string of curses she’d heard her uncle say, but would get her mouth washed out with soap if he’d heard her say them.

  The golden ball flew out of her grasp and landed with a dull clunk, rolling away from her.

  “No!” She scrambled to her feet and lunged after it, but not before it tumbled through the grass and rolled down a small hill, landing in a pond with a splash.

  She looked over the bank, and saw her golden ball, lying at the bottom of the deep pool, it’s faint golden glow giving her its precise location, its image warped in the ripples of water.

  “Oh, no.” Lillian reached up, tugging on fistfuls of her pale hair. She glanced around fearfully. Finding her way home would be next to impossible. It was a new moon, and the forest was completely dark. She looked back at the ball, her throat constricting at the thought of entering the water to retrieve it. She couldn't swim. “What I wouldn’t give to have my light back,” she whimpered, pacing the bank. “Gold, fine clothes, jewels, I’d give them all, I'd give anything.”

  “Well, isn’t it your lucky day, then.” A voice spoke out of the inky darkness, a voice that was distinctly male. “Because I can fetch your magic bauble for you . . . for a price.”

  2.

  “Who are you?” Lillian called out. She scuttled away from the edge of the bank. “Please, don’t hurt me.”

  “Relax,” the voice drawled, but his words didn't do anything to calm Lillian. “I’m just a fae. A rather handsome fae, but still. Nothing to
worry about, unless you anger me.” The sound of splashing water reached Lillian’s ears, and from the pale light of the golden ball, she saw a dark figure haul itself out of the water, standing before her.

  She inhaled sharply, reaching out her senses for the nearest animals. A few bats fluttered above her, and she called silently to them, asking for their help.

  “I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” the shadowy figure chuckled, and Lillian screamed when the bats dived at her, wings flapping. Then they were rising back up in the air and were gone.

  “You’re not too bad at animal communication for a human, but you still bungle it terribly. They listen to me much better, but that’s because I know how to handle them.” A green glow flared to life, held in the upturned palm of a young man.

  Lillian studied him. He was lean and pale, with midnight colored hair that dripped with pond water. His eyes were green, or at least looked green in the light, his gaze locked with hers. His clothes were plastered to his body and dripped, a puddle forming around his bare feet.

  “Do we have a deal, then?” the young man asked pleasantly. “I can retrieve your ball, right now.”

  The ‘yes’ was on the tip of Lillian's tongue, and she bit it so hard it was a wonder it didn’t bleed. “You never told me what your price, was.”

  “Ah,” the youth’s voice turned mocking. “I’m dealing with a clever human, it seems. Fine.” He took a step forward, and another, until he was standing right before her. It took every ounce of willpower for Lillian not to shy away from the stranger.

  The fae smirked. “And a brave one, too. My, you’re full of surprises.” His eyes narrowed. “This is the price; that you cast an anti-spell on me. I’m cursed, you know, and I’m quite tired of being a frog for twelve hours out of the day. An anti-spell will destroy the curse, and I’ll be on my merry way.”

  Lillian's eyes widened. “That was you, earlier,” she said. “The frog with the sour face.”

  He sniffed. “If I looked sour, it's only because I wasn't meant to be in such a state.” His expression changed to a sulk. “All I did was throw a frog at the witch's face. Who knew she had such a temper? And she had it coming, anyway.”

  The loud croak of a frog broke the quiet of the night, and the young man grimaced. “And then there’s that. Frogs following me everywhere. That’s the other side of the curse. Makes it tricky to interact with women, I must say. You're the first female I've met in quite a while, who didn't run screaming at the sight of me in my frog form.”

  “Animals don't frighten me,” Lillian said. “I'm quite fond of them.”

  “Yes.” The young man tilted his head. “That's thanks to your druid magic. I wish I could say the same. But truly, if I see another frog again, it will be too soon.”

  The light in his palm dimmed. “But I digress. Do we have a deal? I’ll fetch your golden ball, for the casting of an anti-spell.”

  Lillian twined a lock of her hair around her finger, her gaze flitting to the enchanted golden glow from the pond, that was beginning to fade. She needed to get back. To help this youth, especially if he was a fae, was absolutely out of the question. There was a saying, well known by the mortal world, that now echoed in her mind.

  Never trust the fae.

  Fae were said to spin truth on its head, to find meaning where there was none, and no meaning at all, when there was. She couldn’t trust him, and nevermind his green eyes and handsome face.

  There was also the matter of Uncle. If he found out she had struck a deal with a fae . . . she bit her lip, thinking. She still hurt from the beating he’d given her last week, for catching her with a book of fairy tales she’d borrowed from the local library—superstitious nonsense—not to mention that any anti-spells at the manor would be kept in the underground vault, the door locked. No, she couldn't help this young man. But she desperately needed the light. “It’s a deal,” she whispered.

  The youth smiled and with a flick of his wrist, doused his light, swathing them in near-darkness. The light of the golden ball was fading fast, but Lillian saw his lithe form leap into the water with a loud splash. The frog that had taken up croaking stopped, probably alarmed at the sudden noise.

  The golden ball flared to life, and Lillian smiled in relief when the young man crawled out of the water, dripping wet, and strode over and handed it to her with a polite bow. “Here you are, my lady.” He beamed and rubbed his hands together. “Now, I would like to discuss my side of the bargain.”

  Lillian summoned every particle of power she possessed, and slammed it into the earth. Tree roots sprang out of the ground, wrapping securely around the youth’s legs, holding him fast. She knew she couldn't keep him there for long, but it should hold long enough. If she could get back to her uncle’s manor, no fae would be foolish enough to try to reach her there. Uncle had anti-fae wards placed around the property.

  “I’m so sorry,” Lillian breathed, then spun around and bolted, hair streaming in the wind.

  “Oh, you are in so much trouble,” the fae hissed, the clear displeasure in his voice giving Lillian more speed. She sprinted down the path, trying her best to ignore his final shout, following her down the path. “You haven’t seen the last of me, girl. Mark my words, and mark them well!”

  The realization that she’d just angered a fae should have been enough to make her gibber in terror, but she knew there wasn’t anyone in this world as dangerous as her uncle, and would risk any danger this world had to offer before incurring the wrath of the stern Anti-fae leader. He’d killed fae, and magic users before.

  Enchant was her only act of disobedience. That was a secret she hadn’t shared with anyone, and if she had any say in the matter, no one else would ever learn of it. She was quite sure Uncle would kill her if he learned she was still practicing druidry.

  3.

  Lillian didn’t stop running until she reached the edge of the wood. She quickly doused the light of the golden ball, then stuffed it into her pack and hid the rucksack in a hollowed out stump, piling dirt and leaves over it to conceal its existence. She smoothed her skirts and walked briskly across the yard to the large gate that would take her into the manor courtyard, trying to calm her breathing.

  “Better hurry, Lady Lillian,” a guard warned her when she approached the gate. “Lord Averell called for you nearly an hour ago.”

  An hour. Lillian abandoned all dignity and fled indoors, scurrying down the halls that took her to the dining hall. She doubled over by the door, gasping for air and pulled a few stray twigs from her hair. She didn’t want Uncle to know she had been to the forest. There was nothing wrong with that, in and of itself. But if she appeared too flustered, he would want to know why.

  She only allowed herself a minute to collect herself before she opened the door and went in.

  The meal had already started, and dread trickled down her limbs when she saw her uncle was dining alone. All of his attention would be on her.

  A few servants stood by, to fill plates and pour wine, and when they saw Lillian enter, one hurried to pull out her chair with a polite bow.

  “You are late.” Lord Averell was a big, broad-shouldered man, with long dark hair that was graying at the temples. He frowned at Lillian. “Where were you?”

  “I was taking a walk, my lord,” she replied, dipping into a deep curtsy. “I enjoyed the spring air, and warmth of the turning season. I didn’t mean to be late for dinner, and I apologize for that.”

  “If you spent half as much time on your art lessons and embroidery, as you do taking walks in the wilderness, you would be a fairly accomplished woman by now,” he growled. “How are your anti-fae studies coming along?”

  “Well, my lord,” Lillian replied. She took a sip from her goblet, and masked a grimace. She detested the cloying taste of wine and the fog that enveloped her mind when she drank too much of it. “I’ve been reading the books you gave me.” She glanced down at the meal. The first course that was served was pea soup. Green, which made her think of frogs,
which made her think of the youth. The young man who was completely and unapologetically fae. He would have long since escaped from his temporary prison. It wouldn’t have held anyone for long, let alone a fae, even one who was cursed. Cursed to be a frog during the day, and to attract frogs. Interesting.

  As if thinking of them had been a summons, a frog suddenly plastered itself on the window, the one right behind Uncle, its limbs, fingers and toes splayed.

  Lillian started and stared. Green, with a pale belly, the amphibian slowly slid down the glass pane to fall out of sight. If Lillian didn’t know any better, she’d say it had been looking at her. Maybe it had been. But she hoped not. Were her druid strengths becoming more apparent? Her mother used to be like that, from the stories she'd heard. Animals flocked to her, eager to linger near the druid.

  Lord Averell didn't notice Lillian's reaction, and was droning on about the glories and virtues of the Anti-fae. Lillian feigned interest, silently praying he didn’t turn around to look at the frog who kept attempting to scale the window. While there wasn’t anything particularly sinister about a frog, Uncle tended to be suspicious around animals that acted out of character.

  And this frog was definitely acting strangely.

  “Is something wrong, Lillian?” Uncle asked suddenly. His bushy brows furrowed as he leaned over his dinner plate to get a closer look at her. “You look pale. The night air didn't agree with you. You must quit staying out at such late hours.”

  “Yes, Uncle.” Lillian nodded. There were now two frogs on the window, staring at her with their bulgy eyes. Don't turn around, don't turn around.

  Lord Averell’s eyes narrowed. “What are you looking at?” He began to look over his shoulder, and Lillian knocked her goblet over with a resounding crash, her heart beating rapidly. He became violent whenever she made mistakes like that, and she didn't have to fake the sudden trembling that seized her. She put her head in her hands as she heard Uncle's chair push back and heavy footsteps approach. “I am sorry. I don't feel well,” she said truthfully. “You must be right about the night air.”