A Prince Among Frogs

  A PRINCE

  AMONG

  Frogs

  Book Eight in

  the Tales of the Frog Princess

  E. D. BAKER

  This book is dedicated to my family, who handles

  all the horse chores when I get so caught up

  in my writing that I can’t think of anything else,

  and to my fans, whose enthusiasm

  inspires me to keep writing.

  One

  Millie leaned back against the dragon’s side, enjoying the coolness of his bluish white scales on the hot summer day. The dragon, Audun, was curled around her with his head resting on the grass near her feet while Felix, her baby brother, lay on the blanket beside her, cooing at the tip of the dragon’s tail that dangled over his head. Millie glanced down when the baby batted at the tail with his chubby hands.

  “As far as I’m concerned, the smaller the wedding the better,” she said to Audun as she reached out to stroke the baby’s red gold curls. “I want it to be intimate, with just us and our immediate families.”

  “Don’t you want our friends there, too?” Audun asked.

  “Well, yes, of course, at least our closest friends, like Zoë and her parents and Ralf and his parents and your friends Frostybreath and—”

  “Do you see what I mean? It’s going to be nearly impossible to have a small wedding. I don’t have a lot of relatives, but I do have lots of friends I want to invite.”

  “Speaking of relatives,” said Millie, “I’m not sure what to do about my father’s side of the family. My uncle, Bradston, is all right, but I’ve told you how much my grandparents hate dragons. They can’t even accept the fact that I turn into a dragon. I can only imagine what they’ll say when I tell them about you!”

  “Millie!” called her mother, Emma, from where she was kneeling in the garden, supervising the weeds that were pulling themselves out of the ground. “Don’t let the baby put that thing in his mouth! You have no idea where it’s been. No offense, Audun.”

  “None taken,” the dragon replied, moving his tail out of the baby’s reach. Felix began to fuss, so Audun pulled a golden chain from around his neck and held the dangling amulet over the baby. “Here, you can play with this instead.” The ice dragon council had given the amulet to Audun to allow him to breathe underwater, and the rolling waves that decorated it soon caught the baby’s eye.

  Millie’s great-aunt, Grassina, sat back on her heels and wiped the perspiration from her forehead. “When we finish this, I’m going to add a new section to the garden. I want to have plenty of fresh flowers for the wedding,” she said, smiling at Millie.

  “We have to invite all the dragons who helped us, too, you know,” Audun said, nudging Millie’s foot with his chin.

  Millie turned her head to watch Grassina gesture, making a strip of ground crumble until it was well worked and ready for seeds. The seeds flew from the witch’s hand, burrowing into the soil. Another gesture, and a dozen willow wands pushed into the soil beside the seeds and wove themselves into a delicate fence.

  “Like who?” Millie asked Audun.

  “King Stormclaw, for one. If he hadn’t given us permission to marry, we wouldn’t be having this discussion.”

  “That’s true … ,” Millie said.

  “And then there’s his council … ,” said Audun.

  “His entire council?” Millie said, sitting up abruptly. A lock of her long blond hair had gotten caught around one of Audun’s scales, and she winced when it yanked at her scalp.

  Audun moved his back legs, and his tail twitched closer to the baby. “My grandmother is one of the members, and they all voted to let us get married.”

  Millie sighed as she reached back to free her hair. “I suppose we’ll have to invite them, too, but we can’t include everyone we know.”

  “I didn’t say we had to. I just want—YOW! Watch it, kid. Those scales are attached, and I’d like them to stay that way!”

  Millie giggled. Her baby brother was just an infant, but his tiny fingers were already strong. She adored the little boy and was still surprised and delighted that he had become part of her life. Although most royalty relegated the care of infants to nursemaids, Millie and her parents spent as much time with Felix as they could. When Emma and Eadric were busy with the demands of the kingdom, Millie often visited the nursery on her own. Sometimes she felt almost as if she were the baby’s third parent.

  “Excuse me,” Audun said, edging away from Millie as he got to his feet and put the golden chain back around his neck. “My back is getting stiff. I think it’s about time for a change.” Like the air above a sun-heated boulder on a hot afternoon, the air shimmered around Audun as he turned from a dragon into a young man with silvery white hair and vivid blue eyes. He was handsome whether he was a human or a dragon, with a strong chin and prominent cheekbones.

  When Felix’s smile melted away and he began to fuss, Emma looked up from the growing pile of weeds and muttered under her breath. Butterflies flitting around the garden rose above the blossoms and flew to where the baby lay. The multihued cloud descended over the baby, fluttering just out of reach of his flailing fists. Felix chortled and his smile returned even brighter than before.

  Audun had just taken a seat on the blanket when the shadow of a large bird passed overhead. Millie glanced up. Her heart rate quickened when she saw that it wasn’t a bird at all, but a witch with long white hair whipping behind her as she darted to a landing on her broom made of palm fronds tied to a stick.

  Millie was used to visitors arriving at all hours of the day and night. Her mother was the Green Witch and in charge of dealing with the magical issues in Greater Greensward. Because Emma was married to Eadric, crown prince of Upper Montevista, she had to watch over that kingdom as well. Witches, fairies, and normal humans were always stopping by to tell her about yet another problem. Millie wouldn’t have minded if their arrival didn’t usually mean that her mother was going to be called away once again, leaving Grassina and Millie to deal with whatever problems might crop up in the two kingdoms. So far Grassina had been able to deal with it all, but there was always the chance that Millie would be called upon to help, and that the small amount of magic she was able to use wouldn’t be enough.

  Millie tried to stay calm as the visiting witch, who appeared to be nearly ninety, hopped off her broom like a spry sixty-year-old and brushed her snarled hair back from her face. She was a pretty woman with tanned, not-too-wrinkled skin. When she spoke, her voice was unexpectedly husky. “Which one of you is Grassina?” she asked, peering at the women. “My eyesight isn’t so good anymore.”

  Grassina stood, dusting off her hands. “I’m Grassina, and I know who you are, Cadmilla. How can I help you?”

  “You can offer me a drink and a seat in the shade,” said the witch. “I’ve been on that pitiful excuse for a broom since yesterday, and my joints ache worse than a whale with a sick belly.” She sighed and shook her head. “Listen to me. I’ve spent so much time with those old crones on the island that I’m beginning to sound like them.”

  While Grassina hurried into the cottage, Emma helped Cadmilla to a bench under the spreading branches of the oak that grew at the river’s edge. “I must be a sight,” the old witch said, fussing with her sleeves as she made herself comfortable. “I got caught in the rain yesterday. It took forever for my clothes to dry out.”

  Grassina emerged from the cottage, carrying a large tankard. “Why were you looking for me?” she said, handing the woman the drink.

  Cadmilla took a long sip. “I didn’t want to come, and I wouldn’t have if the old biddies back on the island hadn’t left me the short straw. I think they cheated and used magic to make their straws longer. I would have, too, if I’d th
ought of it soon enough. I came because of that sea monster. Wrecked our cottages and drove us into the woods. The ugly beast won’t leave us alone. It’s been coming for a week and hasn’t shown any sign of leaving.”

  “If you and your friends are witches, couldn’t you have gotten rid of a sea monster on your own?” Audun asked.

  Cadmilla curled her lip in exasperation. “Don’t you think we tried? But either our magic is getting as feeble as we are, or the monster is stronger than all of us put together. All our spells and potions didn’t affect Old Warty one bit. That’s what we call it, because of its warts.”

  “And you came here because …”

  “We heard that Grassina had taken it upon herself to get rid of all the monsters around that town Chancewood … Chanceworld … something like that.”

  “Chancewold,” said Grassina. “Tell me about the monster. What does it look like?”

  “It’s gray and has a floppy body like a half-empty bladder covered in warts. It stays in the water most of the time, but when it does come out, it crawls around on three big flippers. It has long tentacles with leaf-shaped tips, and it smells like a slop bucket that hasn’t been emptied for a month.”

  “That’s one of mine, all right,” Grassina said, frowning. “I guess I won’t be able to work on the garden after all. If you’ll excuse me, I need to get ready to go.”

  “I remember that monster,” said Emma, placing her hand on her aunt’s arm. “I’m the one who sent it away. If anyone should deal with this, it’s me.”

  “Don’t be absurd. I created the monster, so I’ll take care of it.”

  Emma shook her head. “You can’t go alone. I’ll go with you and—”

  “You’ll do no such thing. Haywood will go with me. You’re the Green Witch and your responsibilities are here in Greater Greensward. Don’t worry. I’ve dealt with many monsters over the last few years. Haywood and I will be back before you know it.”

  Although Emma didn’t look happy, Millie relaxed and gave an unconscious sigh of relief. She didn’t mind helping her mother if she needed it, but then her mother very rarely needed help. All Millie wanted to do was plan her wedding; with her mother there, she just might get the chance.

  Two

  Before she met Audun, Millie had thought she knew everything there was to know about being a dragon. But after they fell in love and Audun had had to earn the right to learn how to be a human, she discovered there were a lot of things she didn’t know. Most of them, like how ice dragons differed from fire-breathing dragons, were interesting, but only a few affected her directly. Her sweet tooth was one such discovery. She’d always thought it was part of her human side, so she’d been surprised when Audun, who had been a dragon at the time, nibbled a honey-laced confection and declared that it was the best thing he’d ever tasted. It had never occurred to Millie to try anything sweet as a dragon, but when she did, she discovered that dragon taste buds amplified the flavor so that her entire mouth tingled. After that, Millie got in the habit of fetching a huge bowl of porridge in the morning, dribbling a generous serving of honey over it, and taking it back to her chamber to eat. She was sure most of the other inhabitants of the castle would find it disconcerting to see a dragon eating breakfast in the Great Hall, and she didn’t want to have to explain why she turned into a dragon just to eat breakfast.

  She was in her chamber eating her porridge on the second day after Grassina’s departure for the tropical island when she heard a knock on her door. Thinking that it was Audun, she left the bowl on the floor and shuffled across the room, keeping her wings tucked to her sides so she wouldn’t knock anything over. Opening the door, she was surprised to find her grandmother Queen Chartreuse waiting on the other side.

  After one glance at her granddaughter, the queen pursed her lips in disapproval. “Can’t you refrain from turning into a dragon at least for one day? And if you can’t restrain yourself, I wish you wouldn’t do it inside. This castle was never built for creatures with your … bulk.”

  “Are you saying I’m fat?” Millie asked, backing into the room. Unlike her mother, Millie had never balked at speaking her mind to her grandmother.

  “I’m saying that I’d prefer to talk to you while you’re a human. There,” said the queen as Millie obliged her by changing form. “That’s better. Some people have come to see your mother. If you’d been eating in the Great Hall as you should be, you would know that she was called away to speak to a herd of centaurs who have been stealing horses from local farms. They call it liberating them, which is the silliest thing I’ve ever heard. Your mother had just left when these people came to see her. Ordinarily, I would send them to see Grassina, but she’s away, as you know. Your grandfather and your father have gone hunting, leaving me to deal with everything, but I put my foot down when it comes to dealing with something like this. You’re going to have to talk to them, so wipe the porridge off your chin and come with me.”

  “Who are these people?” Millie asked, following Queen Chartreuse down the corridor. Her stomach was beginning to clench—not a good thing when it was full of porridge. She doubted that she’d be much help in a magical way, and she dreaded telling people that she couldn’t do anything for them.

  “Fairies! Young people like you have no problem talking to them because you’re used to it, but when I was a girl, they never came to visit the way they do now. And I’m not like your father’s mother, Frazzela, who dotes on fairies. I have no idea what to say to them. Then there’s the wing issue. If they have wings, I try not to stare at them, but I know I will anyway, which is rude. And if they don’t have wings, I wonder why not—I always do—and then I lose track of whatever they’re saying. They shed fairy dust, too, which is so untidy. Now you go on ahead,” the queen said as they reached the bottom of the stairs. “You’ll find them just outside the door leading from the Great Hall into the courtyard.”

  “No one invited them in?” asked Millie.

  “Of course not,” the queen said, wrinkling her nose with distaste. “You’ll see why when you meet them. Oh, and by the way, you have gained a few pounds lately. You really must cut back on the sweets.”

  Three fairies were waiting by the stairs in the courtyard, looking as if they weren’t sure they should be there. They turned to face Millie as she reached the bottom step. She’d met the fairy dressed in the soft green gown and matching floppy cap before. Moss had visited her mother and even come to some of the parties at the castle, but the other two fairies were unfamiliar.

  “Good day, Millie,” said Moss. “Is your mother, Princess Emma, here? We have a problem and we think she’s the only one who can handle it.”

  Millie shook her head. “She left this morning and I have no idea when she’ll be back. Maybe I can help,” she added, more because she thought she should than because she wanted to.

  “You can if you’re as powerful a witch as your mother,” said the fairy with the pale skin and gown made of shiny green leaves. The nostrils of her thin, arched nose flared when she looked at Millie, giving the fairy’s narrow face a scornful expression.

  “I’m sorry, I should have introduced my friends to you,” said Moss. “This is Poison Ivy, and this is Trillium,” she added, indicating the shorter fairy with dark red hair that hung down her back almost to the ground. Her flower-petal dress was only a shade or two lighter than her hair, and it glistened as if sprinkled with dew.

  “It’s nice meeting you,” said Millie. “But I’m not a witch.”

  “I knew coming here was a waste of time,” Poison Ivy said, tilting her head back so that she looked down at Millie.

  Taking a deep breath, Millie tried to tamp down the irritation welling up inside her at Poison Ivy’s rudeness.

  Trillium sighed and said in a whispery soft voice, “Perhaps we should go.”

  Millie started to agree with her. If the fairies thought they needed powerful magic to deal with their problem, Millie probably couldn’t help. Aside from her dragon magic, she had v
ery little magic of her own. She could find lost items, but only if they were things she used all the time and had lost recently. She could turn the pages of a book with the wave of a hand, but only one at a time. She could even blow out a candle from across the room, but she couldn’t light it again unless she turned into a dragon. Millie wanted to tell the fairies that they’d have to return when her mother was home, but then she glanced at Poison Ivy again and knew from the curl of her lip that the fairy expected her to back down. The irritation she’d felt before flared into a spark of anger.

  For most of her life, before Millie had learned how to control her temper, she turned into a dragon each time she got angry. Even now, controlling her temper wasn’t always easy. She knew that if she let little things bother her, even the smallest spark of anger could flare into full-blown rage. Millie glared at the narrow-faced fairy, then purposefully turned toward Moss. “If you tell me what the problem is, I might be able to help.”

  Moss shook her head, and her cap slipped down over her eyes. She pushed it back with a rueful smile and said, “That’s very nice of you to offer, but I don’t see how you can possibly help us. It’s a plant problem, you see, and not a nice plant, either.”

  “Is it one of your plants?” Millie asked, glancing from one to the next but letting her gaze linger longest on Poison Ivy.

  “Don’t look at me!” Poison Ivy declared. “My ivy has nothing to do with this. I only came along to help.”

  “There’s no need to act defensive,” said Moss. “I’m sure Princess Millie didn’t mean anything.”

  “Ha!” said Poison Ivy.

  “It’s not one of our plants at all,” whispered Trillium. “It’s a plant so nasty that it doesn’t have a fairy to watch over it.”

  “That’s right,” said Moss. “No fairy wants anything to do with it. It’s new to the enchanted forest. We think some horrid person brought it here to stir up trouble. Thank goodness there’s only one.”