Frogs & Fae: A Frog Prince Retelling (Tales of Fae) Page 2

  Lord Averell cuffed her on the back of the head and gripping her arm, hauled her to her feet. “You stupid, careless girl.” The harshness of his voice lessened a little. “You must learn to take care of yourself. Go on, then. Bed for you. If you've caught a chill, warm blankets will set you right.”

  “Yes, my lord.” Lillian made a break from the dining room, her gaze shifting one last time to the window.

  Her uncle caught the movement and swung around to look.

  Nothing was there, and Lillian stifled a nervous giggle as she ducked out of the door and hurried up to her room.

  Such silly frogs. Why would they have been on the window?

  The fae.

  Lillian's temporary amusement faded immediately, replaced with dread. Did frogs on the glass panes mean he was nearby? She certainly hoped not.

  After a thorough search, she found her room empty of any living creatures aside from herself. Just her bed, bookcase, wardrobe, and washstand. A fire crackled cheerfully in the small bedroom hearth, and a glass of milk and a plate of bread and cheese sat on her narrow bed table. Lillian smiled. The servants were always looking out for her, no matter what Lord Averell might think of her.

  The curtains to her window were still pulled back from this morning, a yawning black hole. Lillian hurried to close it. The frog might have been on a lower level window, but she didn’t fancy seeing it on her bedroom window if it decided to climb.

  She ate the small meal, and grabbing a book off her shelf, hopped into bed and began to read. She was still fully dressed, but she wanted to do some studying before she went to sleep.

  The only books her uncle allowed her to read were books written by Anti-fae, and so were filled with all sorts of facts about fae.

  Fae are some of the foulest creatures in existence, a passage read. They are full of malice, mischief, and spirit children into their underground lairs, there to raise them to be as evil as the fae themselves.

  The words blurred, and Lillian rubbed her eyes. She’d exhausted herself, using so much magic today. She focused on the words again. Never trust the fae. They are full of devilry, and will lead you to death and doom.

  Lillian thought about the strange youth she’d met in the forest. He didn’t seem evil, but then, she didn’t know him at all. And he was most displeased when she’d run off. She’d have to stay clear of the woods for a while.

  The words grew hazy again, and Lillian set the book aside and closed her eyes, letting sleep overcome her.

  4.

  Lillian slept, her dreams full of magic, danger, and frogs. A doorway stood before her, hidden in the trees. Something was behind it. Something important. Lillian wielded powerful magic, commanding the forest. Animals flocked to her, enchanted by her benevolent powers.

  The frogs croaked incessantly, however, ruining the effect of the dream, so rather than feeling all powerful, she felt irritated by the noise.

  She yawned and burrowed her face deeper into her pillow. “Quiet,” she mumbled. She relaxed, snuggling deeper into the arms that encircled her.

  Arms?

  She turned her head, and found the fae, his head resting beside hers on the pillow.

  Lillian tumbled out of bed with a strangled gasp, becoming fully aware of her surroundings. A vivid green light filled the room, and frogs were everywhere. She'd narrowly avoided squashing some when she hit the floor, the small, green inhabitants of her room staring reproachfully at her. Fortunately, with her awake, they all stopped croaking, every bulbous eye turned on her.

  She hardly noticed them. Her own gaze was locked on the young man sprawled in her bed.

  He had propped himself up on his elbow, his dark clothes still damp from swimming in the pond. His black hair had dried a little, and stuck out in an untidy fashion. He smiled slowly.

  “So the traitorous druid is finally awake,” he said. “Good. You know, I should turn you into a frog, right here and now. You deserve no better.”

  Lillian's gaze shifted to the numerous amphibians all over her room. “Then are all of these frogs . . .?” She couldn't finish the thought.

  “No,” the fae replied. “They aren't cursed. They're just frogs. But I should turn you into a frog.” He sat up and crossed his legs. “I’m quite angry,” he said, even though he didn't sound upset at all. “You lied to me. Didn't your mother teach you that fae detest lies?”

  “I don't have a mother,” Lillian answered.

  The young man blinked. “Oh. Well, what about your father?”

  “No.”

  “Oh.” The fae scratched his chin. “This is awkward.” He pinned her with a stern stare. “But still, don't think I'm going to let you off so easily, simply because you're an orphan.”

  “How did you get past the anti-fae wards?”

  The youth beamed. “I’m a clever fae. It’ll take more than a few ill-placed wards to stop me.”

  Gathering her courage, Lillian glared back at him. “Well, how do you plan to make me help you? You're cursed, remember?”

  The fae arched an eyebrow. “It’s true I can't work magic when I'm in my frog form, but that is only during the day. It's night, and as a Fae, I am more than capable of wielding enchantment.” He chuckled darkly, and fear trickled down Lillian's spine.

  “I was afraid,” Lillian admitted, her stomach twisting. “I was afraid to help because—”

  “Your uncle is an anti-fae,” the young man finished. Lillian peered up at him and saw something flicker in his gaze. Compassion?

  “Why do you live here?” he asked. “You're clearly practicing magic on the sly, tiptoeing around your uncle, when you could live just about anywhere else.”

  Lillian shrugged, uncomfortable with having the discussion turned on her. “I don't have anywhere else to go.”

  “Why not become an apprentice to another druid?”

  A wry laugh escaped her. “I don't suppose there's even a single druid who lives within a ten-mile radius of Uncle's manor.”

  “There's one,” the youth countered. “But only one.” He looked away from her, inspecting his nails. “I shouldn't be doing this,” he said. “But tell you what. After you assist me—” he shot her a warning look, “—and you will—I will take you to his home. He may be willing to take you on as an apprentice.” He scoffed. “Then again, he might just throw you out on your nose. I don't suspect druids take kindly to being lied to, any more than fae do.”

  Lillian bit her lip. To become apprenticed to a druid would be a dream come true. It was so unlikely, however, that she'd never dared to allow herself to even dwell on the thought. Her future was almost certainly an arranged marriage to an Anti-fae of her uncle's choosing. To be taken under the wing of a druid and taught how to use her magic properly would be wonderful. She bit her lip, unwilling to tell this youth how tempting that sounded. She couldn't help him and escape Uncle's wrath. Lord Averell once told her about a healer woman in the local village who had been caught using magic. She’d tried to run. Uncle had found and killed the woman. There’s no running from me, Uncle had told Lillian with a cruel smile. The guilty will never escape the justice of the Anti-fae.

  The fae's eyes narrowed, and a sly smile curved his lips. “Your chance at apprenticeship is conditional on you helping me, and if I'm feeling generous after all is said and done. And don’t give me that nonsense about being afraid. You go out into the woods to practice magic at every available opportunity. Finding me an anti-spell can’t be any riskier than your sneaking about, can it?”

  “Yes, it can,” Lillian countered. “All anti-spells here, are kept in my uncle’s vault. The door is locked, and has an alarm spell placed on it.” She frowned at him. “And how do you know how often I go out?”

  “I've watched you loads of times,” the fae said, completely unabashed. “Though it's only been very recently that I found out you were in the care of an anti-fae. Very lucky, that is. For me, anyway. The anti-fae always seem to have an abundance of anti-spells locked away somewhere. So I decided to en
list your help.”

  Lillian's eyed him suspiciously. “Did you cause my golden ball to fall in the water?”

  The fae tsked. “So many questions. Besides, that is entirely beside the point. The point is, you said you'd help me. So now, you're going to. You may have struck the bargain without the intention of fulfilling your side of things, but a deal is a deal. When you strike a bargain with a fae, trust me, it is in your best interest to help.”

  Frowning at him, Lillian crossed her arms. “What if I don't?”

  “Then I'll tell your uncle you've been practicing magic.” He smirked. “See? I'm just as cold-hearted as you are.”

  Lillian heaved a sigh. She was caught, like a fly in a spider's web. “What do I need to do?” she asked. She inhaled deeply, her fists clenching her skirts. She was still wearing her clothes from the day before, and was very glad that she hadn’t changed into her nightgown before going to bed.

  The youth watched her, his green eyes taking on a thoughtful gleam. “I need you to help me break into your uncle's vault, and use an anti-spell on me. They are quite easy to use. Simply utter the words, and put your intention into the spell, and ta-da! Curse broken. Of course, there is another way to break the curse, but a counterspell is definitely the easiest alternative.”

  “What's the other way?” Lillian asked, a flicker of curiosity threading through her.

  The fae flushed bright scarlet, and mumbled something under his breath.

  Lillian cupped her ear. “Come again?”

  “I'd have to make a human fall in love with me, and proclaim their love with a kiss,” he said louder, fingers curling into fists. “And I don't really have time for such frivolities.” He eyed her, a speculative glitter in his gaze. “Unless you've already fallen in love with me.” He ran the fingers of one hand through his hair in an arrogant, careless manner. “That would be wonderfully convenient. You're a little thin, for my taste, but I'll accept a kiss, if you want it.”

  Lillian eyed him askance. “In all honesty, I'd sooner kiss one of the frogs.”

  “Oh.” The fae’s shoulders slumped, and he looked so dejected that Lillian felt sorry for him.

  But in a moment he was back to his usual self. “Well, no matter,” he said. We'll simply break into the vault and have you cast the spell. No biggie.”

  “Uncle always has guards posted outside the vault,” she warned. “Not to mention the door is locked and set with an alarm.”

  The youth waved a dismissive hand. “Not a problem, I'm sure. I'm quite clever.”

  “And my uncle is ruthless,” Lillian countered. Her fear about the fae was beginning to evaporate, as he clearly had no intention of hurting her. But her uncle was another matter entirely. “He will kill you, if given a chance.”

  “Duly noted.” The fae swung out of bed and bowed. “It just occurred to me that I never learned your name, formally, anyway.”

  “Lillian.”

  “My name is Dylan,” he returned. “Thank you for agreeing to uphold your end of the bargain.”

  “You blackmailed me.”

  “And you lied to get your bauble back. We're almost even.” He winked at her and sat on the edge of the bed again. “Let's get to planning, shall we?”

  5.

  Lord Averell kept anything of value in a vault, on the underground level of the manor. Lillian had only entered it once, after her uncle had given her a severe beating, years ago when he'd discovered she had been practicing magic. He'd taken her down there to try and impress on her mind, the folly of such an endeavor. The vault was made up of a couple of rooms, filled with books, scrolls, maps, and a collection of anti-spells. Anti-spells were spells created with the express purpose of either temporarily or permanently countering magic. He had told her, in a firm tone, that he would have no qualms about destroying her, if he caught her dabbling in “devilry” again.

  His words had frightened her, but not enough to stop her practicing enchantment. She just became more stealthy at it. She knew that some magic was bad, witchcraft and necromancy, obviously. Magic that controlled the dead or took away a one’s free will. But she wasn't doing any of that. She was just making flowers grow and encouraging birds to sing. There wasn't any harm in that, was there?

  Dylan sprawled horizontally across her bed, leaving her sitting on the floor. “Okay, then,” he said. “Here's the plan. We go down there to the vault, dispose of the guards, break down the door, and grab the right anti-spell. You'll cast it without any trouble, and then I'll be on my way. Simple. In fact, we can do it right now, before dawn comes and I'm a frog again.” He stood. “Any objections before we start?”

  “A few, actually,” Lillian said apologetically. “One, I don’t want you to kill any of the guards. They’re quite kind to me, actually, and I would feel wretched if any of them were hurt.”

  Dylan rolled his eyes. “Any other objections?”

  “If my uncle discovers I'm helping you, he’ll beat me within an inch of my life if he's feeling merciful. He will be doubly furious if he learns that I'm helping a fae.”

  “Well, you'll have to be extra careful, then,” Dylan said. “But really, it won't be so hard, especially if he's asleep.”

  “I feel so much better,” Lillian replied sullenly.

  A smile quirked Dylan's lips. “I can, however, create a distraction, if needed. That will hopefully give you enough time to break through whatever barriers the vault has.”

  “I told you, the vault door is guarded and locked,” Lillian protested. “Not to mention the magic wards and alarm placed on it. Uncle keeps the key with him at all times, so we won't be able to take them. As you can see, it isn't a matter of waltzing in, just like that.” She snapped her fingers for emphasis.

  “Maybe you should have thought of that, before agreeing to my bargain,” Dylan pointed out. “But there are no take-backsies.” He paused. Some of the frogs had decided he and Lillian weren’t a threat because they'd began croaking. “Quiet!” he hissed at them, and they fell silent, staring up at him with large, solemn eyes.

  “Let's think this through carefully,” Lillian said. She glanced at the door behind her, that would take her into the hall. She could cry and scream for help. Honestly, as dangerous as a Fae might be, she feared her uncle more. And she had no doubt Uncle would rush to her rescue if he thought a fae was endangering her life. But she also knew that Dylan would have no qualms about letting Uncle know about her magic. Fae were like that. More than happy to ruin a person for life out of revenge, however slight the offense was.

  She looked back at the fae, remembering him as the sad frog from earlier. It didn't seem fair to foil his plans. He wasn't the sinister, dangerous kind of person she'd expected, for all of Uncle's talk about the evil fae. And for all his bravado about being dangerous, he hadn’t actually done anything horrible. Well, aside from infesting her room with frogs, but even that was the curse, not him, specifically.

  “Do you want to try and break in next month?” Lillian asked. “Uncle will be away for an Anti-fae meeting. That would the best time to break into the vault. We'd have very little trouble.”

  “Nope.” The infuriating man shook his dark head. “I don't want to spend another day as a blasted frog. I was almost eaten by a particularly stubborn heron the other day. We're doing this tonight.”

  “Tonight?” Lillian almost gagged. “Lord Averell is here! You'd be mad to go up against him.” She glanced out her window. The faintest glimmer of dawn had already touched the horizon. “Especially with it so close to morning.”

  “We still have an hour,” he pressed. “I'm doing this. Aside from the peril of getting eaten by that blasted heron, I have my territory to protect.” Dylan growled, his face scrunching in a scowl. “You wouldn't know this, but I staked out a wide space of forest as my territory. I should also point out that the only reason you haven't been led away by Will O'the Wisps or captured by goblins by this point, is because of me, princess, so think about that for a moment. I need my full power
at all times, so I can continue to protect my land, and the people in it, even if they're annoying girls.”

  Lillian ran a hand over her face, exasperation welling up within her. She'd heard of fae doing exactly this, in one of Uncle's books. Fae would occasionally find a patch of land they fancied and claim it. They were fiercely territorial and never gave it up. Small wonder he wanted his curse broken.

  But trying to break into the vault tonight, was absolute madness.

  “Well, that’s enough planning for me.” Dylan reached a long arm under the bed and pulled out the golden ball. He rolled it to her. “You might need this. I found it earlier in your substandard hiding spot.” He strode to the door. “Let’s go.”

  He snapped his fingers, and the green light winked out, swathing the room in darkness. He strode out the bedroom door.

  6.

  Picking up the golden ball, Lillian scrambled after Dylan. She could almost believe her imagined fancies about doorways and magic, as she followed him through the door and into the hall. She felt like she'd just changed her fate, by deciding to help him. She probably had, particularly if Uncle learned of it, and not in a good way. She shivered.

  “Follow me,” she whispered. “We’ll go by way of the servants’ halls.” She stood by his shoulder, and caught his scent. She would have expected him to smell of pond water, and was pleasantly surprised by the heady fragrance of pine and earth. She stared at him a moment, losing the threads of her thoughts.

  The fae arched a dark eyebrow at her, confused. “Servants’ halls,” he reminded her.

  She flushed. “Right. This way.” Lillian darted down a side passage, stepping lightly as she tried to make as little noise as possible. Dylan trailed after her, his footsteps silent. How could he be so quiet? The question burned on the tip of her tongue, but she couldn’t afford to make any noise. Questions about him would have to wait.