defeat and allow me — the Godmother version of me — to take their object and curse away and forfeit the trials.' She raised an eyebrow. 'I'm not entirely unfair or without pity.'
They both watched the Princes below. Lily had not been trying to bluff them into hurrying their plans when she'd told them that time was fleeting. Besides the Curse of Clumsiness, several curses were already manifesting... Boils, mostly; it seemed to be a very common curse. There were faces dotted in soothing salve, and necks and hands covered in bandages. Rosa felt very, very sorry for the poor fellows, because not only were none of these curses going to go away, until they finally decided to dare the dragon, it was only going to get worse.
Leopold and Siegfried stared glumly at one another. By nightfall, their curses had manifested. Siegfried's was the most...obvious. 'Well,' said Siegfried. 'I can say this much. It's unique. And it's not as painful as boils.'
Two toads and a frog fell from his lips.
That is, they appeared to fall from his lips; they actually manifested two inches away from his mouth and fell. He caught them expertly — he'd had a lot of practice by now — and tossed them in a bucket. Anytime he spoke, frogs and toads fell from his mouth. Real, live frogs and toads. He had no idea where they were coming from.
It didn't happen when he ate, breathed or yawned, only when he spoke, and the curse didn't seem to care if he shouted or whispered. The moment a word passed his lips, he got an amphibian. Sometimes more than one. He really did not want to approach the Princess with this happening. He didn't think she was the kind to squeal at a frog, but it wasn't pleasant to try to talk to someone and have slimy things raining down on your shoes.
'I'll trade you,' Leopold replied glumly. His curse apparently had been bad luck — but only at gambling. This had him in deep despair, for gambling was not a trivial pursuit for him. 'I don't have a father feeding me great stacks of money, Siegfried! I make my living gambling! Technically this, going after the Princess, is a gamble! If I don't get this thing off me, I won't have a chance of winning her!' Obsessively he threw a pair of dice over and over again, and each time they came up ones.
'I'm pretty certain trading doesn't work, Leo,' Siegfried replied, catching the toads as they fell. 'Two of the others tried it and they ended up with both curses. And their original objects returned to them anyway. I think they have this tied up pretty neatly to prevent us from doing anything but face the dragon or give up.' He took the bucket to the window and turned the toads out onto the lawn, where they hopped indignantly away.
So far, only three of the Princes had left for the mountain, which was something of a surprise to him. Curses were nothing to be sneezed at, and he wanted his taken off as soon as it could happen. The irritating fact was, if Leopold hadn't been obsessing over the loss of his gambling luck rather than figuring out what to do about the dragon, they themselves would have been halfway there by now.
He began to wonder if the bad-gambling-luck was the actual curse, or just a kind of side symptom of what was really afflicting his friend. This wasn't like Leopold at all. He was usually overflowing with optimism, not moping.
Looking at Leopold's tragic face, Siegfried made up his mind. This was ridiculous. He couldn't go on like this — not because having toads and frogs raining out of him with every word was all that bad, but because if he had to listen to Leopold moaning anymore, he was going to kill the man. It was time for him to take charge of the situation.
He put down the bucket, advanced on his friend and hauled him unceremoniously to his feet. Holding him by the collar, he shook Leopold vigorously and set him down again.
'Enough!' he said. 'It won't be the end of the world as long as we go do something about it!' Five more toads landed on the floor. Leopold sagged back down onto the chair, and looked up at Siegfried in dazed shock. The Northerner stalked over to the arms rack, grabbed his sword and belt, and Leopold's, and threw Leopold's at him.
Reflexively, Leopold caught it. With a jerk of his head and a grunt — which only produced a hapless little tree frog he stalked out the door.
Leopold caught up with him at the door of the stables. Siegfried thankfully didn't have to say anything when he got there; the grooms were already waiting to saddle up horses for whoever turned up. It didn't look as if they were getting mouse-horses this time; what the grooms pulled out for the two of them were plain, sturdy brown beasts of the sort you might see pulling a farm cart. There evidently was a standard kit ready and waiting: saddlebags with provisions and a map to Sharpstone Pass. A glance at the map gave Siegfried one bit of good news; the Pass wasn't more than two days away.
Wordlessly, they mounted up and headed down the road on the map. It was easy enough to follow, and they spent an entire day in unwonted silence. It actually wasn't bad at first, if he didn't look back at his friend; Siegfried was used to traveling alone, and with Leopold hunched morosely in the saddle, obstinately refusing to do anything other than sigh, he might as well have been alone.
Still, having that giant lump of gloom trailing behind him began to wear on him after a while. Siegfried managed to keep from having to say anything until they found a spot to camp for the night — which was near enough to a stream that the poor creatures he was producing would be able to get to water easily.
Only then did he open his mouth.
'Are you done whining like a sulky brat?' he asked, producing a veritable flood of amphibians. It caught him by surprise; had the curse saved up an entire day's worth of toads to spill out as soon as he spoke?
'I think it's more than just losing my gambling luck,' Leopold finally said, sounding — well, not at all like himself. Strained, but with something more under his voice. Panic, maybe? 'I have this horrible urge to write poetry and learn to play the lute....'
Siegfried stopped catching frogs and chucking them in the direction of the water to turn to stare at his friend in absolute horror. Write poetry? Learn the lute? The Queen had warned them that there might be some curses that changed you — but — this could be bad. This could be very bad. 'Please don't tell me you want to dress all in black,' he said, aghast, as a couple more frogs dropped to his feet.
Leopold nodded, a haggard wariness coming over his expression. 'Black...of course I want to dress in black. It suits the deep night of my soul. What rhymes with shadow?' he asked, then looked appalled. 'I don't believe I just said that....'
In the back of Siegfried's mind, a tiny treacherous thought arose. It was obvious that Leopold was turning into one of those morose poet-princes, the sort that slouched around their Castles by night, slept by day and spent all their time trying to be Artistic and do what bards did, only do it half as well, if that. If I don't do anything, if I
