Page 12 of The Frog Prince (The GriMM Tales #6)

Six

Alwin

“ O tto?” Alwin heard through the door. “Who is at the door so late?”

“No one, Gisela,” Otto said, his voice tight with anxiety and fear. “Go back to bed.”

Alwin tried not to let it hurt.

No one.

A nobody.

A monster could be heard silently.

They were familiar words by now, the reaction like slipping on a well-worn shoe. But hearing them implied by that deep, comforting voice was like killing the roots of the quiet hope and optimism that had awakened in Alwin oh so briefly.

He knocked again, harder this time.

“Young master,” he called.

“What are you so afraid of?” Gisela asked.

“It is…” Otto faltered. “It is…”

“Who? You act as if the devil is at our door.”

“It is the Frog Prince.”

Gisela gasped, and something croaked from his tattered pocket at the address, like a herald. He looked down and saw Farwin’s big eyes peering back at him innocently.

He sighed.

The devil indeed , Alwin thought.

“I told you to stay at home,” Alwin whispered to him.

Farwin blinked one eye and then the other.

“What did you do?” Gisela asked breathlessly, panicking. “You didn’t… Tell me you didn’t…”

“I had no other choice, Gisela!”

“Of course you did! Better me dead than bargaining with the Frog Prince himself!”

“That was out of the question,” Otto said.

“What did you offer?”

“M-myself…”

“Your life?” she gasped.

“Of a sort. I promised companionship. He let me return the cure to you, and then I was set to go back to his lair in three days. I…chose not to. I couldn’t bring myself to return willingly. I didn't think he could leave his waters and the forest beyond. Now…he has come.”

Alwin clenched his jaw, long fingers twitching at the blunt explanation. The confirmation that he had been completely wrong about Otto.

Yes, he could be kind. Alwin had seen it. But even the sun was eclipsed sometimes. Wrapped in darkness and devoid of its glow.

Otto could be golden. He could be bright. He could be warm.

Just not to something like Alwin.

Still…there was no choice. Even if for no other reason than because they were now tied by magic. The contract could not be broken.

“Young master, open the door for me,” he called, beguiling and soft. “Don’t you recall what you promised me down by the well three days past? Young master, open the door for me.”

There was silence once his words reverberated through the door, seeping into the darkness.

The rest of the village was already abed around them, even those who would frequent the tavern.

He’d made sure of that before breaking the tree line, grateful that Otto’s house was secluded and private.

The only sounds were crickets chirping and the slow croaks of the frogs who were drawn to him sounding in the night air as they hopped closer.

“What you have promised, you must deliver,” Gisela said finally into the empty air. “For I fear more the consequences if you don’t. My brother is not so dishonorable a person. He isn’t defined by his blood.”

Alwin could only wonder at her meaning.

A few moments later, the door creaked open.

Twin golden heads appeared, the siblings staring at him in fear, the scarce light from the oil lamp bleeding out to touch his damp skin.

Otto moved Gisela behind him, raising his chin like he was expecting Alwin to spring at them.

Instead, Alwin simply took a single step over the threshold.

His bare, webbed foot met wooden floor for the first time in years, squelching and squeaking.

They flinched at the sound.

He opted to ignore it, focusing instead on the feeling of being inside a house again.

No crumbling walls and fractured holes in the ceiling, moss and vines his only decorations. Here warmth washed over him from the fire dancing in one corner, and various objects with their own stories to tell filled the other corners while the scent of fresh food tickled his nostrils.

A home.

He inhaled deeply, feeling deep pangs of longing in his chest, and swept his gaze over the rest of the space.

A small kitchen with a rough, square table and a few chairs around it took up the far wall, a narrow hallway leading farther in.

Another table was filled with all sorts of bottles around a well-used mortar and pestle, and dried herbs hung from the rafters.

Lastly, there was a small wooden bucket behind a screen, along with a cloth for washing.

Well-used. Well-loved.

He turned to look at Otto, who hadn’t moved his fearful gaze away, tilting his head at him.

“I can almost see why you’d be reluctant to leave your home.”

He stepped closer, making Otto jerk back, pushing his sister with him. As if Alwin would hurt her. As if she wasn’t already hurt by Otto’s own choices.

Using his quicker reflexes, he shot his hand out, ignoring the startled gasp from Otto as their faces drew close enough that he could feel that burst of heat on his cheek.

He ignored the shiver it tracked down his spine and brushed the rounded pads of his fingers over Gisela’s long hair. Green against gold. A weak substitution for the hair he really wanted his fingers to catch on.

A single touch was all he needed to confirm.

“It’s already back, I see.”

Gisela looked at him, wide-eyed and startled, yet there was no hiding the truth that lurked under the surface.

“I…”

She turned her gaze to the floor.

“What?” Otto asked, turning to look at his sister too, giving his back to Alwin as if he weren’t terrified of him. “Gisela?”

“I’m just a little exhausted, Otto. Nothing to worry about.”

Alwin watched Otto’s chest expand and contract with each breath as he realized the truth for himself. He saw his fists clench next to his hips, and then he was in Alwin’s face, all fire and despair. “She’s sick again! You did this to her!”

Alwin stared at the blue flame in his eyes for a moment then took a step away dismissively. It was rude and insulting, and he meant for it to be so. It was the only way he could cover up how affected he was by Otto and his words—how deeply they were able to cut.

“ You did this to her,” he said calmly, slipping past them and over to the small table, sitting down with one leg crossed over the other as if he belonged. It was a facade of indifference he had learned young and well.

“Me?!” Otto exclaimed, looking between Alwin and his sister.

“We had a deal, Otto. A magically binding one. I held up my end of the bargain. You were supposed to hold to yours. Did you really think you’d get everything you wanted without doing your part? You believe magic is that easy to trick?”

Otto visibly swallowed, all golden color draining from his skin and leaving him ghastly white. “I didn’t trick anyone.”

Alwin snorted, adjusting the lamp so it was positioned in the middle of the table as a way to distract himself from the burning in his chest. “No. You outright lied and now you are paying the price.”

“Is she going to go back to the way she was?” Otto asked, and Alwin had to fight not to try and soothe the pain he heard in his voice. The pain of an older sibling who would do anything for the younger.

“Otto, I’m fine,” Gisela said, but Alwin could see she was swaying on her feet, her chest working harder. With these eyes he didn’t need to be looking directly at them to see them perfectly.

“The magic demands its price,” Alwin said somberly.

“Make it stop!” Otto demanded.

“I already did. The conditions of our agreement are still in place. It is your move, Otto.”

Alwin watched defeat flitter over Otto’s face as he opened and closed his mouth, searching for an excuse.

His eyes wavered and his hands shook and Alwin couldn’t stand it.

Despite the injustice and the betrayal he was feeling, Jurgen was right, he had always had a soft heart—which seemed to have latched on to this healer despite everything.

“I…” Otto’s voice faded to nothing as he stared at his sister, the love between them plain to see. A bond forged so strong it could not be shaken.

He pictured Lorenz in her place and his heart wept anew. How he missed his brother. The easy understanding between them. The shared looks that meant more than words. The loyalty to each other above anyone and everyone else.

Alwin missed his entire family, but he ached for his brother. He just hoped the sacrifice he had made would make him happy.

Gisela took Otto’s hand in hers. “You tried, Otto,” she said softly. “You tried and I’m thankful. You don’t have to sacrifice yourself for me. That isn’t fair.”

“I need you to be okay,” Otto said desperately, face crumpling. “I can’t lose you. How can I go through life with you no longer there when I look back. You’ve always been trailing behind me.”

“And you’ve always been standing in front of me, shielding me from everything,” she said, eyes watering. “But some things you can’t protect me from.”

Alwin felt those words reverberate through his bones. He sighed, feeling Farwin poke at his chest from his pocket. Nudging him the way his treacherous heart already was.

“What if we stayed here?” Alwin said.

Two blond heads whirled around to look at him.

“What?” Otto asked.

“You are terrified of both me and my home. What if we stayed here where you’re comfortable and where it’s familiar?

” Green flashed through the orange light as Alwin gave a nonchalant wave of his thin hand, trying to distract from the clear fact that he would probably be swayed to do whatever Otto asked of him.

“Then it would only be me plaguing your nightmares instead.”

“What a tempting offer,” Otto bit out at the suggestion, covering his terror with a barbed tongue.

“I aim to please.”

Otto’s cheeks turned dusky pink at the words, his shoulders drawing up and any fight in him draining. He avoided Alwin’s eyes, looking everywhere but at him.

“You…you would stay here?” he asked quietly.

“I do hate repeating myself.”

“In my home?”

“Do you suggest I live in the garden?”

The way Otto’s face twitched told Alwin that it had certainly been a passing thought. For what did creatures do but sleep outside?