Page 88 of The Frog Prince

Alwin refused to be disappointed.

They had work to do.

Otto went to the apothecary desk and pulled over his satchel, reaching inside to grab his notes and the vials containing the Blue Moons.

Taking the place at his side, Alwin asked, “Where do we start?”

“I need to test its properties first. To see if it reacts like other herbs I know. Is there any way to send a message to the frogs who live around where these grow?”

Alwin stood up straighter. “Of course.”

“Could you ask them if any animal has consumed these? And if so, how did they react? What were their symptoms, if there were any? Or do they avoid them completely?”

“I’ll send my fastest messenger.”

“Don’t let Farwin hear you say that,” Otto teased, watching him go.

Alwin smiled to himself as he located a small tree frog, relaying his instructions and sending it off. He watched after it for a while. It was always tough to send his frogs beyond the borders of his protection.

He did a quick lap around the perimeter, checking to see if the light from the fires was drawing undue attention. Luckily, they couldn’t be seen from far out and were small enough not to create much smoke.

Satisfied, he made the trek back, finding Otto bent over his table, his notes spread out and knife precisely cutting while something grey simmered in a glass jar.

Instead of being a nuisance, Alwin settled into the corner in a froggish crouch to observe him, ready for anything he might need. He drew his golden ball out of his inner pocket to work it over in his hands.

Otto was engrossed, oblivious to the rest of the world passing him by or Alwin’s return. He often scrawled notes or muttered to himself. He held up vials of various substances, mixing some, observing others for long periods for any signs of change.

His patience was seemingly endless…until it wasn’t.

Alwin startled as Otto threw his pen aside, running a hand through his hair in agitation before turning to Alwin. “I don’t understand it.”

“What’s the matter?” Alwin asked, pocketing his treasure.

Otto caught sight of it before he could. “I thought you tossed that in the well to seal our deal?”

“My frogs fished it out for me,” he said, refusing to feel embarrassed. “That was mostly for dramatic effect.”

Otto stared at him, lips twitching. “Dramatic effect?”

“Don’t pretend you know nothing of it—” Alwin attempted to divert the subject. “—what with your hair pulling and melodramatic sighs.”

“I have good reason for the drama.” Otto blew out another deep breath. “This is going nowhere. Every attempt to work it out fails outright. It accepts no process. Heat. Cold. Water. Crushing. Cutting. Mixing. Pressing. It’s like as soon as it’s manipulated, it turns to this.”

He held up the greyish liquid Alwin had seen in the beaker and a handful of shriveled grey husks in his palm. Nothing left of the vibrant Blue Moons.

“Maybe it should be ingested whole?” Alwin offered.

“To disintegrate as soon as it hits the stomach?”

Alwin conceded the point with a tilt of his head.

Otto pursed his lips and clenched his fist. “There’s something I’m missing. I don’t want to waste what I have.”

“If we need to go back, we can. It’s for a worthy cause.”

“I know.” Otto shook his head, looking a little lost. “But I don’t even know if this is the answer. All we have is a myth. Perhaps I should look elsewhere.”

“I understand your frustration, but don’t give up so easily. It is only day one, after all. We can look at all options. A narrow scope does no good, but neither does casting a net so wide it pulls everything in.”