The Frog Princess Novel Book 1 (Completed)

Chapter 2

I spent the rest of the afternoon visiting my favorite places in the swamp. Following hidden pathways, I skirted the treacherous, boggy ground until I reached solid footing. After searching the thicket where I'd stumbled across twin fawns earlier that spring, I lounged by the deep pool that mirrored the drifting, puffball clouds. As the day grew warmer, I took off my shoes and stockings and waded through a shallow stream to a tiny island whose smooth, water-tumbled pebbles felt good under my bare feet.

It was late by the time I returned to the castle. Rather than going straight to my bedchamber, I climbed the long, narrow tower steps to my aunt Grassina's apartments. The Green Witch, as she is called, is my mother's sister and has lived in the castle since before I was born. She has taught me more than anyone else ever has, and not just about how to be a princess. And unlike the rest of my family, she doesn't criticize me at every opportunity.

Reaching the top of the stairs, I knocked softly on the door and waited for her to answer. Somehow, she always knew who was knocking. She'd told me how useful a skill that was, because she wouldn't have to answer the door if it were someone she didn't want to see. After only a few seconds the door flew open, but instead of my aunt's familiar features I saw a yellow duckling drop a gnawed stick and rush out of the room to snap at my ankles.

"Come back here, Bowser!" my aunt called from inside the room. "I'm not finished with you yet!"

The duckling darted back and forth, quacking loudly as it herded me over the threshold.

"Shut the door, Emeralda!" shouted my aunt from her seat by her workbench. "That stupid dog won't hold still long enough for me to finish the spell!"

"This is Bowser?" I asked, trying to fend off the ball of fluff that was viciously attacking the toe of my shoe. "Father won't be happy that you turned his favorite hound into a duck."

"Duck, dog, what's the difference? Bowser will be his miserable self again faster than you can say the Greek alphabet backward. Now, where was I? Oh, yes. Here, sprinkle some of this on him while I find the spell again."

"What, me? I can't!" I backed away from her outstretched hand. "I'll make a mess of it! Remember that time with the crab apple dumplings?" After I used that spell to make them, they grew claws and ran away. It took us weeks to find the crabby little things, and by then they were stale and their claws had pinched us black and blue.

"Phooey," said Aunt Grassina. "Everybody makes mistakes."

"But not the kind I make! I used that cleaning spell you told me about nearly four months ago and it's still as strong as ever! Every time I drop anything on the floor in my chamber, a little breeze whisks it away and dumps it on the dung heap behind the stables. You wouldn't believe how many stockings and hairpins I've lost that way! I can't do magic anymore. I just make things worse when I do."

"How do you ever think you'll learn to be a witch if you don't try?"

"I don't want to be a witch!" I said for the hundredth time. "I know you think I should, but I'd be terrible at it. If I could mess up such simple cooking and cleaning spells, imagine what I could do with something really important. We could all end up with three left feet or stuck head-down in some desert!"

"Oh, Emma! Of course you want to be a witch! You just don't know it yet. Give yourself some time and a little more practice. I'm sure you'll be very good at it once you decide to apply yourself. Now, where is that parchment? I know I put it around here somewhere."

I left my aunt shuffling through a stack of old, musty parchments and headed toward my favorite chair in front of the fireplace. The truth was, I used to dream about being a witch like Grassina, but to try so hard for so long and never have anything go quite right ... I slumped into the chair

and closed my eyes, letting my bad day melt away in the peace of Grassina's room.

The difference between my aunt's room and the rest of the castle was wonderful. Whereas the castle itself was cold and damp and generally gloomy, Grassina's room was warm and inviting. A small fire always burned behind the decorated iron grate, heating the entire room, yet never needing new logs. Gleaming balls of witches' light bumped against the ceiling, bathing the whitewashed walls and brightly colored tapestries with a rosy glow. The cold stone floors were covered with thick, woven rugs of various shades of green, giving it the appearance of a forest floor dappled with sunlight. Sometimes the room smelled of freshly crushed mint leaves, or pine boughs like the ones used to decorate the Great Hall during the winter celebrations, or sun-warmed clover on a summer's day.

Two chairs cushioned for comfort and separated by a small table waited in front of the hearth. A fragrant bouquet of crystalline flowers bloomed in an etched bowl atop the table. A gift from the fairies, the bouquet was the home to glass butterflies whose delicate wings clicked softly as they flitted from one blossom to another. I'd spent many hours curled up in one of the chairs while my aunt occupied the other, regaling me with stories of far-off lands and times long ago.

There were many wonders to be found in my aunt's room. One of her tapestries depicted a miniature town in perfect detail with a lion and a unicorn fighting each other in the streets. Once, when I touched the lion with my fingertip, it bit me, taking a small sliver of skin from my finger. I howled as tears streamed down my face. My mother cuffed me for lying, but Grassina winked and wrapped my wound in spider's silk.

A sea witch named Coral had given Grassina a large bowl filled with salt water and the tiny replica of a castle, spires and all. The castle was perfect in every detail, and occasionally I'd see schools of miniature fish swimming by.