the valley first. There’s plenty of work here for both of us. I will gladly share the responsibilities of estate and business and community with you, if you agree to let our cousins and the folk of the wildwood lead their lives without interference. Cezar, it’s never too late to take a different path. Come, take my hand, and let’s start afresh. Will you?”
There was a moment’s charged silence, in which I held my breath, watching Costi’s face. It made my chest ache to see the longing there. Until now, I had not really understood how lonely and terrible those years as a frog must have been. Soft pillows and loving words do not make up for the cruel punishment of being trapped, helpless, in a body that does not allow you to live your life as your true self. I marveled at Costi’s capacity to forgive. I willed Cezar to put out a hand, to stumble through an apology—to begin to be the man his brother believed he could be. But he stood there rooted to the spot, and there was a darkness on his face.
“Think well on this,” Dr?agu?ta said. Cezar started; he seemed to have forgotten she was there. “Today I return your 349
gift, for the game is almost finished. This is a second chance, Cezar—the opportunity to choose again. As your brother says, you were young, though not so young as Jena, who made her choice more wisely than you. Each of you gave up a precious treasure. That, you chose out of love. But when the meaning of the game became clearer to you, you sacrificed love for power.
You were caught up in a terrible snare, a net in which you wrapped yourself more tightly as the years passed. Now your brother offers you the chance to untangle it; to step free and move on. He has learned his lesson. Have you learned yours?”
It seemed to me that as the witch of the wood spoke these words, a shadow grew around her. Now she was not a bent old woman, but a towering sorceress—her face pale as ice and her eyes full of a terrible judgment. A wind blew across the courtyard, scattering dead leaves before it.
“Varful cu Negur?a is mine,” Cezar said, and I saw Costi flinch as if he’d been struck. “It’s mine. I’ve worked for it and suffered for it. You’ll never prove your identity: nobody will believe such an incredible story. And don’t expect Jena to back you up—she’s in enough trouble already, with her foolish escapades. She knows what will happen if she doesn’t obey me.
Try telling your lies to Judge Rinaldo, and see how far they get you.” His words were defiant, but he was shivering. “And you,” he added, not quite looking at Dr?agu?ta, “get off my land, before I call the guards. Try this again and my men will hunt you down, and every last one of your foul demons with you.”
“Oh, I’ll be gone soon enough,” the witch said. “A little of your company goes a long way. Costi, you’d best tell your brother how you spent your day.”
350
“I’ve been with Judge Rinaldo and the village elders,” Costi said quietly. “Doing a lot of talking; a lot of explaining. Maybe you’ve forgotten that the judge and our father were educated together; they knew each other as very young men. Apparently I look a lot like Father did back then. He and the elders have accepted my identity, though not without considerable surprise at the tale I had to tell. They asked many questions.”
Cezar was ashen. “You told them?” he whispered. I saw acceptance of the truth in his face at last, and with it a terrible realization of the dark thing he had set on himself. “You told them what I did?”
Costi regarded him levelly. “That my life was your price for a chance to be the eldest son?” he said. “No, Cezar. I would not shame my own brother thus. Besides, I did not want to damage your chance of a better future. I told them the tale of a boy become a frog—of enchantment and promises and the power of the Other Kingdom. They thought it strange and wondrous.
For a little, it will be the talk of the valley. In time it will be forgotten that I was ever anything but a man. The story will become folklore, another strange tale of witches and goblins to tell around the fire at night. Now I think it’s time the two of us went home and discussed this further, for there must be changes. The first will be the removal of these guards you have set all about our cousins’ house. There’s no need for them. Piscul Dracului is safe from the Night People.”
Cezar stared at Costi, at me, at Dr?agu?ta. “How can you know that?” he asked.
“There’s much to speak of; this is not the time or place,”
said Costi. “I will say one thing to you before we leave here. If 351
you ever hurt Jena again, I’ll strangle you with my bare hands.
That’s a solemn vow, Brother.”
He made this startling speech without once looking me in the eye. I did not know what I was feeling; my head and heart were full of confusion. He had seemed so cool to me, and now . . .
“I’m not accepting this,” Cezar said, glaring at him. “What about all the work I’ve done: looking after the business, watching over the girls, organizing the hunt for the Night People?
You can’t just walk in and take it all!”
“You piece of pond scum!” hissed Cezar. “You think you can march in here and help yourself to everything! You don’t deserve to be master of Varful cu Negur?a: you haven’t done a scrap of work to earn it—you don’t know the first thing about running the business! All you know about is . . .”
“Being a frog?” Costi raised his brows. “Believe me, if there had been any choice in the matter, I would have stayed in human form. In fact, I don’t think I’ll have as much difficulty picking up the reins as you believe. What Jena learned about the business, I learned, too. Her shoulder made an ideal vantage point for reading all those ledgers.”
I was watching Cezar’s face—pale as parchment and dis-352
torted with outrage. Before my horrified gaze, something snapped.
He strode forward to seize his brother by the throat. I screamed.
Costi struggled, long limbs thrashing. His face turned crimson as he fought for air. His eyes bulged. Cezar was backing him toward the high stone wall by the hen coop. Dr?agu?ta stood quietly, watching the two of them.
“It’s
