“You didn’t let me finish,” Jon croaked.

  “Typical man,” interjected Cutie.

  Jon scowled at him as much as a toad could scowl while Teagan weighed the wisdom of making deals with frogs against her desire to get the ball back.

  Realistically, she thought, there isn’t any way for him to make sure I keep up my end of the deal. He’s a frog. What, he’s going to knock on the front door and ask to come in?

  “What were the terms and conditions again, anyway?” Teagan asked.

  “Of my spell?” the toad asked. “You see, I was living my life—”

  “No,” Teagan said, holding up a hand. She thought about why she came out to the back yard in the first place—she was sick of not being able to go explore the world. Her parents needed to protect her kept her safe, as intended, but it also kept her from living her life. Instead of fixing the problem, she was what?

  Talking to a frog? Toad? Whatever.

  “No,” Jon asked, confused.

  “No, I don’t want to know how you got a spell cast on you, turning you supposedly from a person into an amphibian. I’m sure it is a fascinating story, and you can waste the moments of someone else’s life telling them all about it. Me, I’ve already wasted enough time for one lifetime, so I’ll just agree to whatever terms you have and say get me back my ball.” She pointed.

  “Suit yourself,” the frog replied, leaping into the well.

  “That feels like a poor choice,” Cutie began, but Teagan waved him away, too.

  “Not interested in your opinion, familiar,” Teagan answered. “I’ve been listening to everyone else’s opinions for way too long already, if we’re being honest. It’s far past time I took some risks and made some mistakes. Just get me my ball so I can get on with my day.”

  Long minutes passed, and Teagan tapped her moss green mule impatiently. If her goal was to start living her life instead of spending it on pause, wasn’t waiting by a well for a frog to bring back a ball a terrific waste of time?

  Just as she was about to give up on the mission entirely, the frog reappeared, hopping gracefully back onto the rounded river rocks that made the lip of the well. In its delicate webbed hands, it held the shimmering silver—aluminum, actually—ball. The sunlight danced upon its surface, painting a mosaic of colors that rivaled the stars themselves.

  Teagan reached out to grab her ball, but the toad spun it just out of reach. “Not so fast, Teagan. You didn’t forget about our arrangement, did you?”

  Her heart beat fast for a second—Teagan normally didn’t like to lie—but it was a frog. Whatever spell he was under wasn’t her problem, and it wasn’t like going down in a well for two minutes to retrieve a ball was equivalent exchange for living with her, anyway. “I remember what you said,” she hedged.

  “You’ll let me live with you? Sleep in an actual bed instead of on a lily pad or whatever ridiculous place frogs sleep?” he continued.

  Teagan rolled her eyes. “Toad.”

  He practically growled at her, if growling was possible from a frog’s throat. “You agree?”

  “Sure,” she said, reaching for the ball again. This time, he let her have it.

  Oddly, instead of being cool to the touch, the aluminum was warm, almost hot in her hands. She tossed it from palm to palm before giving up and dropping it into her pocket. “Thanks.”

  As she turned and began to make her way back out of the brambles, the toad tried to keep up. “You could pick me up or something, give me a ride. I’m not very big, after all,” the toad said.

  Teagan ignored him.

  Once she was free of the brambles, she dusted herself off in irritation. “Isn’t it almost time for dinner?” she said aloud.

  “Just about,” Cutie replied, stretching. “Were you ready to go back inside?”

  “Hey, seriously, I’m having a hard time keeping up here.”

  Teagan ignored the frog. It wasn’t a fair deal anyway, she reminded herself. After a couple of seconds, the sound of him complaining really started to get to her, so she bounced into a sprint the rest of the way to the house.

  She’d just forget about the whole weird day, that’s what she’d do.

  Chapter One

  “What do you mean, you let the frog inside?” Teagan stared at her normally rational mother in stupefied horror. “Why would you let a frog inside our house?”

  “It’s a toad, actually, dear,” her mother said vaguely while continuing to swivel her wrist as she used her glass muller to make figure eights in the watercolor paint she crafted. “Frogs have longer legs intended for hopping while toads crawl—”

  “I feel like you’re missing the point here,” Teagan pointed out. “The bizarre part of the story isn’t what kind of amphibian you let inside of our home; it is that you—”

  “Fulfilled your commitment because you were trying to go back on your word?” her father interrupted as he entered the room carrying a stack of canvases for her mother. “Was that your point?”

  Teagan crossed her arms and slouched back against her mother’s workstation. She knew she wouldn’t get anywhere with her father, but she hoped her mother would at least see reason.

  “I’m right here,” Jon pointed out reasonably. “You don’t have to keep talking about me like I’m not even here.”

  “But Dad,” Teagan began, ignoring him.

  “Don’t but dad me,” her father interrupted. “Cutie was there, witnessed the whole thing.”

  “I was,” Cutie said, before washing his nose with his paw in a way he hoped was endearing enough to keep Teagan from kicking him.

  “I admit it,” Teagan said, throwing her hands in the air in defeat. “I promised a toad that, if he got my ball, which I tossed in a fit of temper, I would let him stay with me. Despite that, you’ve got to admit it wasn’t a very fair deal in the first place. Room and board, and for how long? In exchange for a couple minute trip down a well to get a ball?”

  “It was a very dark well,” Jon explained in her mother’s direction, but the older witch still simply worked on making watercolor paints, paying little attention to the conversation in general.

  “Whether it was a good deal or not was something you should have taken into consideration before agreeing to it and letting him fulfil his half of the deal,” her father said. He stacked the canvases in the corner before dropping a quick kiss on his wife’s temple. Shooting his daughter a stern look, he added, “I had no idea we raised someone who went back on their word.”

  “Probably you would have found that out ages ago, if I ever went anywhere besides our property,” Teagan mumbled.

  “What was that, dear?” her mother asked.

  Teagan glanced at her, but her mother wasn’t actually interested in her answer. No, she used her palette knife to scoop up her blended paint into small trays, her focus dedicated to the task at hand rather than the conversation. “Nothing,” Teagan said instead, watching as her father left the room for another load of supplies. With her mother preparing for a big show, she knew better than to bother them with something so trivial.

  But the thing was, there was always something. Her mother had an art show, or her father needed to travel for some new construction problem. Her parents had lives, and people who depended on them and cared about them, outside of their home.

  Teagan…didn’t. But she was safe, right?

  Bitterness nearly choked her, but instead of arguing, she simply asked, “You’re really going to make me spend time with a frog?” a final time to her mother.

  Hermione Taradiddle tapped the trays down individually before topping them off with more watercolor paint before answering. “Toad, dear,” her mother said at last, once she was content with the pans.

  With a gusty sigh, Teagan submitted to her fate, bending to offer her hand for the toad to crawl onto so she could give him a ride to her room. She might have to share her space with him, but that didn’t mean—

  “You do remember that I specifically mentioned sleeping in a bed?” the toad reminded her as she headed down the long hallway that led to her suite of rooms. “Your bed, too, specifically. I don’t want some crappy guest bed that smells of mildew—I want an actual, normal, clean people bed. You know, I don’t even know how long I’ve been stuck out there, just sleeping outside like an animal? It could’ve been weeks or years, for all I know. Teagan? Are you listening?”

  She ignored him, walking with her hand extended in front of her like a death row inmate on their way to the chair. Once she reached the bedroom, she walked stiffly to her bed and then dropped the amphibian unceremoniously onto the expensive linen duvet cover. His mottled body looked somehow even more sickly and out of place against the soft, luxurious fabric.

  She imagined what it would sound like if her life was one of the many works of fiction she so loved to read—within the opulent chambers of the enchanted castle, Princess Teagan's heart was heavy with vexation. She was not one to begrudge her magical abilities, but the latest twist of fate had left her utterly confounded. A toad, of all creatures, was now her unwelcome roommate.

  It would be more interesting in the book, she decided. When she longed for adventure, to go out and do something, she wasn’t longing to sleep with a slimy creature, that was for sure.

  Jon, as the toad had introduced himself, was no ordinary amphibian. He possessed an undeniable charm and a disarming twinkle in his eyes. But none of this eased Teagan's frustration on this particular evening. “Nice digs,” the toad said, stretching out on the bed as if it were the most comfortable thing in creation.

  “It’s home,” Teagan said with a shrug and glanced around the room. Over the years, as she and her interests changed, her parents remodeled her room to match. This ended when Teagan stopped showing interest in redecorating—why bother if no one besides her parents would ever see it anyway? Lingering bits of her last interest—space stuff—still decorated parts of the room. Some of her glow-in-the-dark stars still stuck randomly to the ceiling, and a few posters in frames of nebula and other space related objects dotted the walls.

  But for the most part, personality had been erased from Teagan’s room in exchange for simplicity. She preferred baskets for her things, so she could find them easily. The colors she picked were mostly earth tones, and few dust catchers littered her space. She told herself she’d redecorate when she figured out what she wanted to do with her life—where her interests were.

  Sadly, though, her biggest interest seemed to be getting the hell out of Assjacket, which meant remodeling a bedroom that kept her there was far from her interest.

  As the golden hour bathed the room in a soft, warm glow, Jon flopped forward to stare at Teagan from the edge of her ornate four poster bed. “Look, I won’t be here for long. Just til the enchantment is lifted, and we should be able to get that taken care of quickly, easy peasy.”

  “What do you mean we?” Teagan asked and crossed to the window. Normally, she’d probably change into leggings and a hoodie or something, but she didn’t want to disrobe in front of the toad. On the off chance there really was an enchanted person inside the animal, she didn’t want some guy to see her naked. “I get that you think it won’t be for long, but I’m not used to sharing my space with anyone, not to mention a toad. I don’t even usually let my familiar in here.”

  The toad nodded.

  “It’s my personal space.”

  His throat vibrated but he didn’t make a sound, so she blew out a breath. He clearly didn’t care if his presence made her uncomfortable.

  “So, anyway, this is my room,” she said with an annoyed gesture around the space. “Not that you’re welcome, but you’re here.”

  “Look, I had a life before this,” Jon began, wiggling a foot and considering it carefully for quiet moments. His webbed toes cast delicate ripples in the fabric of the blanket, the shadows dancing like spiderwebs on the wall. “This isn’t my preferred accommodation, either, I’ll have you know. Besides, it is really hard to get comfortable when shaped like a toad. My legs get tangled, and I can’t lay my head down properly. That said, I am grateful for your kindness,” he added, with a sort of wistfulness to his tone. “It might not be where either one of us want to be, but I’m grateful we’re here.”

  “It isn’t kindness,” Teagan pointed out, her tone the proverbial wet blanket on his dreamy ruminations.

  “True enough,” the animal replied with what might have been a laugh. He then snuggled into the soft blankets with sighs of blissful contentment, his form barely making an impression on the regal bed. “You know, there’s plenty of room for both of us in here. We could totally share. You’ll never even know I’m here.”

  Teagan imagined rolling over and her hand bumping into him in the night. A fine tremor ran through her body at the thought of that horror. She’d probably dream of his mottled colored skin and all the bumps and lumps. “I’m good,” she replied.

  All of his blissful sighing did tweak a bit of sympathy, though. She didn’t know how long he’d been stuck under whatever spell the witch cast at him. Sure, her situation sucked—she wasn’t able to go explore the world, fuck around and find out…

  But she was frustrated from a comfortable home where her every need, want, and desire were seen to by two doting parents who wanted to give her the world. Comparatively, her problems seemed small, so maybe she could find a way to be grateful for her lot in life?

  Or maybe she could simply feel bad for him, whoever he was before he got turned into a toad. Teagan watched him for a moment, a flicker of compassion tugging at her heart as she tried to imagine trying to figure out how to function as a frog. She had always been taught that kindness was the most potent magic of all, so perhaps there was more to their curious arrangement than just what met the eye.

  With that in mind, she gathered a pillow and blanket from the bed. “You can have the bed.” With an air of noble sacrifice, Teagan made her way to the marble-tiled shower chamber, its crystal-clear walls glinting like diamonds. She settled onto the cool tiles, her eyes closed, her thoughts a whirlwind of mixed emotions.

  “Are you going to sleep in the shower?” he asked from his position on the bed.

  “I’m not explaining to my parents why I’m sleeping in the guest room,” she replied. “And you’ve got the bed. Sweet dreams.”

  No way would she be able to fall asleep, but she also didn’t feel up to making small talk with a toad. In a few seconds, she heard what could only be described as a loud snore coming from the bedroom. She punched her pillow, rolling over in the small space to try to find a comfortable position.

  After ten more minutes of him snoring, she decided he’d never know if she left him there. She might have agreed to spend time with him, but there had to be some loophole for when he was asleep. She crept back into the bedroom, shooting a glance his direction…

  Only to find the toad sitting in the middle of the bed staring at her. His snoring stopped abruptly. “I didn’t want things to be awkward, so I figured I’d pretend to be asleep,” he explained.

  Teagan sighed. “I was trying to sneak out while you were asleep.”

  They stared at each other for long moments before Teagan crossed her arms and leaned back against the bedroom door. “Although I don’t want to help you, you’re not going to go away until I do, are you?”

  “I would if I could,” the toad admitted, an earnestness in his tone suggesting he actually meant the words. “Look, I keep trying to tell you about the spell—”

  Teagan held up a hand. “Are you allowed to talk about the terms and conditions of your spell or are you in some way held to secrecy about the details.”

  “Witches can do that?” Jon asked, tilting his amphibian head curiously. “You can force the people you cast spells on to not be able to talk about their spell?”

  Teagan shrugged. “That’s pretty standard fairytale stuff, isn’t it? Little mermaid, for instance.”

  “She couldn’t talk at all,” Jon said.

  “But she also couldn’t tell the prince how to break the spell, thereby forcing her to actually change her behaviors or otherwise act in some way to fulfil the criteria of the spell,” Teagan added, crossing the room to sit on the edge of the bed.

  It just didn’t make sense to keep standing while talking to him. He was, after all, only the size of a toad and therefore was correct when he suggested he didn’t take up the entire bed.

  The toad shifted when she sat but didn’t remark on her closeness. Instead, he simply said, “Well, whatever, I can totally talk about mine. I have to get a princess to share her bed and life with me and culminate her love for me with a kiss before I can be human again.”

  Teagan snorted with laughter. “You think some princess—which, good luck finding one of those. I’ve been alive for more than thirty years, and I’ve met zero princesses. I know people in their seventies who’ve never met even so much as a baron, not to mention a princess. You’re in West Virginia and we don’t have royalty.”

  Jon sighed, flopping backwards to look like a dead toad. “You think I haven’t thought of that?”

  “Is that why you demanded to be allowed to sleep in my bed? Are you hoping it will count toward your curse or something?” Teagan asked.

  The toad flopped an arm over his head dramatically. “Shut up.”

  “But if you did, for some bizarre reason, come across a princess in the woods of West Virginia, how precisely did you think you’d convince her to kiss, of all things, a toad? Have you seen your skin? I had to hold back actual nausea at the way you felt in my hand, but you want a princess to put her face on that?” Teagan shook her head. “I mean, is it bad being a toad, or could you get used to it, that’s all I’m saying.”

  “Is it—?” The toad flopped back onto his feet to stare at her with his mouth agape. “Is it bad being a toad? I’m a person!”

 

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