Page 48 of The Frog Prince

Otto nodded quickly, grateful for the excuse. “I tried talking to him about this several times. He has a lot more experience and knowledge than I do, and I need to share my theories with someone who understands what I am saying in order to make sense of them. He is unwilling, though.”

“Perhaps I could lend an ear?”

Otto laughed a little. “Do you know much about medicine?”

“I have read a lot in my life, and I know a great many things. I might not be a healer, but I do know a thing or two.”

Otto bit his lip, doubtful but with no other options. “This must be confidential between us.”

The prince scowled. “I will make sure to tell none of my vast number of friends about our conversation.”

Otto rolled his eyes. “No need to be snippy.”

The prince stood up straight, walking over to the kitchen table and pulling a chair across the floor toward Otto.

He set it closer than it strictly needed to be and folded his body into it, his side brushing against Otto.

It made him want to squirm, but he sat ramrod straight, cracking his notebook open. It was easy to sober himself when the subject was the fate of the village.

“The strange illnesses started happening about a year ago. At first, I didn’t think much of it because people get sick all the time and it isn’t strange for an illness to circle around the village between people until it runs its course.”

“But not this?”

“Not this,” Otto said. “Every person seems to have developed their own set of symptoms—coughs, rashes, fevers, weakness, headaches, nausea, you name it. It seems to have no common denominator.”

“What makes you think it is connected, then?”

“A hunch, mostly.” Otto winced. “Which I know gives no credibility to any of this. I just feel like this isn’t normal. People are dying when they shouldn’t be. Just this morning…”

He trailed off, thinking of Gunther and his family mourning him as he sat there, uselessly poring over the same thing for the millionth time.

“Someone passed?” the prince guessed, voice somber.

“He was a strong, hardworking man. There was no reason for the ailment to take him.” Otto reached for the vial. “His illness bore no resemblance to Gisela’s, but they started around the same time. I just can’t help thinking she’d have…”

“You saved her,” the prince said. “She is alive and healthy thanks to you.”

“Idid nothing. Your magic saved her.” He thought about Gisela’s words. He turned to look at the prince in a moment of weakness, desperate and pleading and feeling like a fraud for asking this when it was supposed to be his job to help people. When he’d told Gisela that he needed to figure it out. “Could you…”

“Could I what, Otto?” the prince asked softly, predicting the question already. “Conjure up a cure for everyone? Save everyone?”

“Yes,” he whispered, even if deep down he knew he wasn’t being fair.

The prince smiled sadly. “I told you last night. I work with magic that existed long before me. I can bargain with it to take my words and make them happen, but only if there is a trade of equal measure. To cure that many people of different illnesses and prevent them from getting sick again… I can’t imagine the price for what you’re asking.

Otto nodded as the prince voiced what he had already guessed.

“As much as I wish to help as many as deserve it, it’s impossible.” Saddened, the prince got up from his seat, turning to leave. Otto’s hand darted out, grasping his thin, cold wrist.

Everything in the room stilled and narrowed to that single point of contact.

Soft, if slightly dry and scratchy, the skin felt paper thin and so very fragile. Different from the sticky pads of his fingertips. Otto hadn’t felt anything of its like in years… No, he hadn’t felt something of this texture ever.

Curiosity won out over good sense, and he moved his thumb first, then his hand, pushing the shirt cuff upward and feeling all the differences between them, cataloging them in his head. The radius and ulna felt like a single bone instead of two, yet the restof the wrist and hand—aside from the four fingers—appeared to be similar to that of a human. He wondered at its flexibility when it moved under his grip, bringing him slamming back to reality.

His hand froze and all that could be heard was their heightened breathing. Still, he found the courage to look up at the prince, guilt and confusion warring inside his mind. “Don’t go.”

He couldn’t read the expression on the Frog Prince’s face, only feeling that it did not seem to be one of anger. If he had to guess, he would have said something close to overwhelmed. He wanted to soothe him immediately.