Page 8 of The Frog Prince (The GriMM Tales #6)

Four

Otto

T he path out of the forest still wound and stretched in all directions with no meaning to him.

Yet the small frogs that led the way seemed to have no such troubles.

They barely paused for breaks, leaving Otto panting and struggling to keep up after his exhausting journey to find the Frog Prince in the first place.

He never once fell to his knees, however. The precious medicine he held in his grasp and the time he had wasted away from his sister were enough to push him onward with little more than his flask of water to keep him going.

On and on, step by hop, a full day and much of a night must have passed before he saw a break in the trees, blessed light beckoning him.

Delirious with exhaustion, Otto felt like weeping at its presence as he stumbled out with a gasp, turning his face up with his arms hanging heavy at his sides.

The sun’s rays filtered past the grime and dirt that clung to his skin and bones, chasing away the nightmares of the forest.

But not ridding him of them.

He looked back toward the trees as he felt multiple eyes on him, bulging, watching from the darkness.

He shivered, a flash of an intelligent, unnatural gaze replacing them, boring into him.

“ Return three days hence. I shall be waiting, Otto. ”

Stomach churning, he turned away and tried to orient himself, quickly realizing he was back at his village.

It was nothing much, small and run-down, as sickly as its occupants.

The kingdom used it as a rest spot for those traveling through the forest—a necessity not worth pouring any amount of resources into besides making sure it still stood in the middle of a famine.

There was one tavern, a few failing farms, and some other merchants hoping to make trade with the little they had.

The rest were the houses of the hardworking people just trying to make a living in a kingdom that never had their best interests at heart, in a town that had all but been forgotten.

The Frog Prince had not only guided him out of the forest, he had brought him home.

So I can return faster.

Otto swallowed and began to run on his shaky legs, like he could outrun his thoughts as well as the deal he had just made.

“Otto!” he heard someone shout. “Otto is back from the forest!”

Whispers and shouts began to break out against the ever-present backdrop of coughing and sniffling.

People gave Otto startled looks as he took the shortcut behind the tavern.

He spotted their small home on the western side of the village, where the forest wrapped around, just far enough from the main village to give some semblance of privacy.

The overgrown shrubbery almost completely blocked the lower level of the house from view, only its pointed roof and upper windows cresting overtop.

That wasn’t where he ran to, however.

He stopped at a smaller house on the way—red and squat, with a thatched roof and black timbering showing, but homely enough, with a rough and barren vegetable patch out front and sheets hung up to dry.

He knocked frantically on the door, desperately trying to catch his breath as he looked over his shoulder to make sure no one, and no thing , was following him.

The door swung open to reveal a small woman with greying hair under a tied wrap of simple fabric. The apron over her long green gown had some dirt stains at the knees.

“Otto!” she gasped, brown eyes widening. “You’ve returned!”

“How is she?” he asked immediately, dreading tragic news.

“Are you well? You look as if the forest itself chewed you up and spat you out! Come, sit down before you fall over.”

Otto braced himself on the wall as she pulled him inside, refusing her gentle nudges to go farther. “Liesel, please. How is Gisela?”

“Alive, but sleeping fitfully.” Her eyes grew watery with worry and grief. “Her coughing fits have been getting worse, and when they are over, she can barely sit up… Otto, I fear she doesn’t have long left…”

Otto clutched the medicine in his hand tighter.

“Thank you for caring for her in my absence,” he said. “I’ll see her now.”

“Otto, take rest first. Eat. Drink.”

He ignored her pleas and logic and made his way toward the tiny back room through the narrow hallway. She sighed and let him be.

Pushing the wooden door open, Otto lingered for a moment on the threshold.

Gisela looked so small. Hardly there at all. The bed itself was small, but she was still being swallowed by it, already wasted so far away from the bright and boisterous girl he had raised. He could hear her labored breathing in the still of the room, fighting, holding on.

His heart beat in time with every one. He was sure that if they stopped, his heart would too.

He hurried to her side, where Liesel had left a short stool. A smaller handmade table was at the bedside, holding all manner of medicines and ingredients Otto had made up before leaving. Their pungent scent filled the room, tickling his nose.

He ran his gaze all over her. Her flaxen hair was spread across the pillow, freshly brushed and smooth, but her skin was sickly pale, her lips bleached of color.

He reached out to brush a golden strand from her forehead, pausing when he caught sight of his dirty hand. He curled his fingers and saw a flash of bulbous green pads.

He flinched, jostling the bed with his knee.

Gisela frowned and groaned, eyes blinking open sluggishly.

Otto chastised himself even as he was guiltily glad to see those blue eyes open once more.

She immediately began to cough, and he was quick to pocket the vial and grab the remedy he had made to soothe her while he was away. He gently lifted her head with practiced hands and pressed it to her lips, a few drops spilling past her mouth and down her chin.

Once the coughing eased off, he laid her back down, grabbing a cloth to dry her face. Finally, their eyes met.

“Otto?” Gisela murmured weakly, looking relieved despite how ill and pained her expression was. “You’re safe.”

Otto cleaned her up gently and then took her hand in his to lay a kiss on the back of it. “Yes. I would never leave you.”

“But you did. Sneaking off in the middle of the night into the forest looking for a cure that can’t be found. What would be the good of us both meeting an untimely end? You’ve heard the stories.”

I have. Which is why I had to go.

He hadn’t discussed his true intentions before leaving, instead he’d spoken of a rare herb that could only be found deep within the forest. He hadn’t wanted to worry her in her fragile condition by telling the truth, but he also hadn’t wanted to disappear without a word and leave her on her own.

He’d told the same story to Liesel and Henne, omitting any mention of the Frog Prince.

He controlled the flinch at the thought of the creature this time and gave a closed-lipped smile instead.

“Hush. I’m fine, aren’t I?” He reached behind her to prop her head up more. “Drink your medicine.”

“You already gave it to me.” She let out a sigh of resignation. “It does no good anyway.”

Otto hesitated before pulling the vial from his pocket.

Was this wise? Could he really trust such a dark creature enough to pour its concoction down his precious sister’s throat?

His instincts told him no, but what choice did they have? He had entered that forest and sought that audience because there was nothing left. He had turned every stone he knew medically. They did not have the means or fortune to look anywhere else.

A chance at life was enough.

He pulled it out and showed Gisela the small vial in his hand, the liquid inside thick and glittering.

She blinked at it in wonder before searching his eyes. “What is that?”

He did not answer. He did not want to recount the story. Instead, he unstopped the vial and pressed it to her chapped lips. “Drink.”

She did as asked, trusting him without question.

His heart raced as he watched her swallow, drop by drop until not even residue was left in the bottle.

“That doesn’t taste as awful as your usual tinctures and tonics,” she said, before another coughing fit stormed through her body.

Otto stared at her, searching desperately for any sign that it had worked. Any inkling that all of his efforts hadn’t been for nothing. But she was still just as sallow. Frail and weak and barely audible, despite her attempt at a joke.

Had it not worked?

Was she supposed to miraculously spring from the bed, healthy and ready to return to life as she knew it before all of this? Was that what he was hoping for?

She sank back into her pillows and covered his hand with her own. It was cool and damp to the touch, just like before.

“I think I’m going to sleep for a bit longer,” she said, and he nodded, giving her tiny hand a gentle squeeze as his eyes stung.

“I’ll let you rest.” He went to leave, but she shook her head, tugging weakly at his hand.

“No, stay,” she said. “You’ve been away so long. I’d like you to stay.”

“Always,” he said to her as he ran this thumb over her weak pulse point, wishing it would grow stronger. Wishing he could will it into pumping life through her, even if it meant draining his own. He’d give anything—everything to see her healthy again.

He leaned forward when she finally sank into sleep, resting his head next to her elbow and closing his eyes.

He was uncomfortable and bone-tired, but he wouldn’t move. Not until she told him he could.

“Please,” he whispered into the stuffy air in the tiny room as a fitful sleep took him over. He didn’t know quite who he was pleading with, but he hoped whoever it was heard him.

Just this once.

When he opened his eyes again, it was to find a thick canopy of crooked branches and gloomy leaves overhead blocking all light.

Bursting upright, he looked around in panic, but saw nothing but endless forest stretching in all directions.

It came for me.

He scrambled to his knees and then to his feet, terror building, his heart pounding so loudly he could hear nothing but that sound.

Ba-dum. Ba-dum. Ba-dum.