Page 23 of The Frog Prince (The GriMM Tales #6)

Ten

Otto

I t shouldn’t have surprised him, in hindsight.

Otto had held out hope that what had happened in the forest would stay there.

That he’d cross that shadowy border into his village and feel like himself again.

Leave all the confusion and heat and want and need beneath the surface of the water inside the woods.

But it followed. Lingering on his skin and leaving a sweet taste in his mouth that he didn’t know the source of.

What they had done…no, what he had done, had left him feeling completely unmoored. He was barely coming to terms with the fact that his subconscious mind clearly had desires he had no knowledge of when his body decided to act upon them.

He had taken from Alwin, and even if it had been with his permission and gentle participation, it still felt selfish. Indulgent in a way Otto rarely allowed himself to be.

Now, as the forest followed their steps back to the village, Otto’s hopes of leaving it all behind were well and truly squashed.

Alwin was quiet at his back, his squelching steps growing quieter as the much-needed water seeped from his skin and left him dry and uncomfortable.

The frogs trailing after them almost the entire way grew distant, hiding in the shrubbery out of sight of anyone who might happen upon them.

The comfortable ease they had managed to forge while inside the cradle of leaves and tree trunks gave way to a stifling silence that allowed Otto to replay every moment in his head on an endless loop.

“Your thoughts are awfully loud, young master.”

They stood by the front door of Otto’s home, his trembling fingers pausing in their attempt to unlock it.

“They are,” he said slowly, not really sure how to broach the subject. Not even sure if he should try after Alwin had begged him not to. He turned his head to find Alwin’s half-shadowed face. “Alwin—”

“Otto,” Alwin said, reaching out a hand that hovered over Otto’s for a split second before he folded the fingers into a fist and pulled it away. Otto mourned that decision, finding through his disappointment that he would have welcomed the touch. “It is fine.”

The reply only made Otto’s frustration grow. Alwin was providing him a perfect escape, yet he was holding himself in the doorway, refusing to go through. “I simply wish… I want to say that I… What happened was…”

The words wouldn’t come, no matter how hard he searched for them, and he watched Alwin’s face fall with every failed attempt.

“You don’t have to force yourself,” Alwin said quietly, graciously. “I know you have no plans to rest tonight, so don’t let my presence prevent you from attending to your research. I’ll wait for you here and we will continue as we have so far. We shall never mention it again if you so wish.”

With that, he turned the key for Otto and entered the house, closing the door behind him.

Otto stared after him for a long time, one hand on the cool surface of the door, head bent.

“What if I don’t know what I wish?” he whispered.

Confusion clouding his vision, he turned away from his house, letting his feet take him along the dusty path toward Liesel’s.

Gisela answered the door, her hair tied back with a strip of fabric and a streak of dirt on her face.

“Otto,” she said in surprise. “Why are you here so late?”

“Otto?” Liesel spoke up from deeper in the house.

Gisela glanced over her shoulder quickly before leaning in to whisper, “What happened?”

“Nothing. I just wanted to check on you both. I made a trip to the forest again.”

“Again?” she gasped. “What did you try to do this time? Bargain with wolves?”

Otto scowled at her, his face flushing just as Liesel rounded the corner, her eyes lighting up once she spotted him. “Silly boy, come in. It’s cold out there.”

“I would love to, but I have some errands to run still. Next time,” he promised, scanning her for any hint of illness. She looked less tired and more content—the benefit of having Gisela there to keep her company and take on some of the workload.

“Errands?” she asked, pulling her woolen shawl tighter. “This late? What could be so urgent that it can’t wait for a reasonable hour?”

“I’m looking for a tub,” he said, the words rolling from the back of his brain to his tongue without his knowledge and falling straight out.

Liesel blinked, as confused as Otto was by his words. “A tub?”

“Or a barrel. One large enough to fit a man.”

Gisela’s gaze sharpened, an incredulous snort coming from her nose. “How large would this man be, perchance?”

Otto shifted on his feet. “Around my height.”

“But not as large?”

Liesel looked between them. “Do you know who this is for, Gisela?”

Gisela broke their staring contest and gave her a smile. “My best guess is a frog.”

Otto’s heart stopped in his chest.

Liesel rolled her eyes and swatted her. “Silly girl. Your brother is serious. It may be for a patient.”

“Y-yes,” he choked. “I need it for a treatment.”

“The only bath in town is in the tavern, as you know.”

Otto nodded. “It can’t be moved, which is why I need something more portable.”

She squinted as she thought. “I think Old Henry might have something at the farm. I’ve seen all manner of barrels and containers. Empty now, of course.”

The farm! Of course. Otto smiled, a burst of energy moving his feet again.

“Otto!” Gisela called at his back.

He turned.

“Do you know what you’re doing?” she asked.

“Not really,” he called back. “But it feels right.”

She pursed her lips but nodded at him, allowing him to escape into the darkness.

His stop at Henry’s took longer than anticipated. As soon as the family saw him they invited him in, asking him to look at this or that ailment because Henne hadn’t been by like he’d promised them.

Otto could do nothing but agree, gently and carefully attending to each member of the large family and listening to every concern, frowning over discrepant prescriptions and symptoms. Did Henne truly not care?

It broke his heart to see a little girl shivering and coughing instead of rough and tumbling with her brother.

It only deepened his determination.

With promises to deliver the barrel to his house and money left on the table, he finally made his way to Henne’s.

Alwin was right—he did want to start on the medicines right away, and Henne had all the reference books and supplies he’d need to even start uncovering what the herbs he had collected could do.

He let himself in, lighting a few candles before carefully placing his bag on the work desk.

He reached inside, fingers brushing over the small pouch of Blue Moons as he went to take out the rest of the herbs he had collected.

Each bloom brought on a different memory.

Of Alwin patiently taking him around the forest. Of him asking his frogs for advice on where to find interesting plants.

Of him reaching into difficult to manage spaces to get something Otto had decided he needed even if he didn’t know why.

Of his endless patience as he just did what Otto wanted to do.

As if he was getting anything out of it. As if it benefited him in any way.

He’d gathered so many amazing things—things from fairy tales, and others that had long since been presumed extinct or too dangerous to risk looking for.

He was so excited to start working on the tinctures and salves they’d need, but most of all he was excited to see if the Blue Moons could help the town. If he could understand their properties, perhaps he could prove that the myths were right.

A fire had been lit within him again after so long struggling, a beacon that Alwin had laid the kindling for.

He bit his lip as his mind filled with brilliant green and shuffled through a pile of books in front of him to see if any of them had information he might need.

He vaguely remembered a page where the Blue Moons were mentioned in passing, so he flipped through them one by one, finally stumbling upon the tiniest little paragraph.

There was a fairly inaccurate drawing of the Blue Moons, depicting them as large, rounded blooms instead of fragile things Otto had found. The text underneath it just said, virtually omnipotent herb if used as instructed .

And yet the instructions were nowhere to be found.

“Ah…finally back at work,” Henne said from the door. Otto startled and turned around to see the older man limping slowly toward him, the cane he used to walk clicking on the wooden floors. “I assume you have something to show for it?”

Otto hadn’t expected Henne to be up so late, but he was prepared for the questioning. “I went to the forest today to gather some more herbs. I don’t have any of the equipment at home to begin testing.”

“Yes…I stopped by the house to check in on your progress and it was quite empty. Not even your sister was home. News in the village says that she’s still staying with Liesel. I wonder why that could be, given her health’s improvement.”

Otto froze.

Was Henne watching him? Keeping track of his movements? His heart stuttered. Had he seen Alwin?

“Now Gisela is healthy she wants to pay Liesel back by helping her. I saw no problem with that. She can do as she pleases,” Otto lied.

Henne narrowed his eyes. “How noble. I suppose your father left some of that in you before he died.”

Otto flinched and Henne smiled to see it.

“I visited Old Henry’s farm just a moment ago,” Otto said, trying to regain his footing in the conversation. “They said they waited for you but you never came.”

Henne snorted, walking farther into the shop. “I was busy with other appointments. They simply need a refill of their prescriptions. I’m sure you can manage them now you’re back.”

“You haven’t even seen them. How would you know they need a refill of a prescription?”

“Did they find a magical cure in the woods as well?”

Otto fought not to react, pressing forward. “The youngest is showing signs of advanced respiratory illness, but her prescription would only treat a common cold.”

Henne stilled dangerously. “Are you questioning my practices, Otto?”