Worlds Collide (The Land of Stories #6)(48)

“Who are you?” she asked.

“Your guess is as good as mine,” the frog man said.

“What in Zeus’s name is that supposed to mean?”

“Unfortunately, I’ve lost my memory,” he explained. “I’ve been searching for someone who might recognize me and help me remember, but so far you’re the only person I’ve found.”

“Sorry to disappoint you, but we’ve never met,” Medusa said. “Believe me—I would know if we’d crossed paths.”

“Well, that’s a shame,” the frog man said. “I guess I’ll have to keep searching. I’ve looked practically everywhere, but everything is empty. It makes me wonder if there’s a sale happening somewhere.”

“How did you get inside the mirror?” Medusa asked.

“Oh, I was cursed,” he explained. “I can’t remember who or what put me in here, nor when or how it happened, but I do know I was very upset about it.”

“Was this cottage your home?” she asked.

“Hmmm,” the frog man said as he looked around the basement. “It seems very familiar, but I don’t think it was my home, per se. I know very little about myself, but I can’t imagine I was the type who kept unconscious children in the basement.”

Medusa took a second look at the mysterious children. For the first time, she noticed that their skin had a light glow, and even though they were all the size of children, many had the wrinkles and crow’s-feet of people much older.

“What happened to them?” she asked.

“Looks like they’re under some sort of spell,” he said.

“I suppose that makes all of us kindred spirits.”

“You mean, you’re cursed, too?” the frog man asked.

Medusa shot him a look—wasn’t it obvious?

“Well, it would be rude to just assume,” the frog man said. “Who cursed you, then? Was it the same person who cursed me or the children?”

“That’s very unlikely,” Medusa answered. “I was damned by a jealous goddess in my home world. She turned my hair into snakes, covered my body in scales, and cursed my eyes to turn anyone they saw into stone. I was so ashamed of myself and terrified of harming people that I secluded myself on an island called Sarpedon. I lived on the island for years until I was captured and brought to this world.”

“Who captured you?”

“A terrible army of pirates, winged monkeys, and card soldiers,” she said. “They kept me blindfolded in a cage and used me to turn their enemies into stone. Eventually I escaped and have been searching the woods for a place to isolate myself ever since. The longer I roam, the more lives I ruin.”

“If your eyes turn others into stone, how am I not a statue?” the frog man asked.

“I drank a potion upstairs that returned my eyes to normal,” Medusa explained. “I’m not sure how long the potion will last, but there are hundreds more where it came from. They’re engraved with words like youth, beauty, and stamina—all the things I’m lacking.”

“That’s wonderful!” the frog man said. “Suppose you drank all the potions—do you think it would turn you back into your human form?”

Medusa hadn’t thought about it, but the idea mesmerized her.

“It’s certainly worth a try,” she said.

A mutual smile stretched across their faces, but the frog man’s smile faded when a troubling thought crossed his mind.

“Say, where do you think all that youth, beauty, and stamina came from?” he asked.

Medusa was so pleased with the results, she hadn’t stopped to wonder how the potions were made. Her eyes wandered back to the sleeping children, and it dawned on her just how drained of youth, beauty, and stamina they appeared to be. It suddenly became clear where the potions were coming from, and Medusa felt sick to her stomach.

“Hera Almighty,” she gasped. “It’s coming from the children! Their life force is being drained into potion bottles!”

The mythical monster was overwhelmed with guilt. She knelt on the floor and began to weep. With no handkerchief to dry her eyes, Medusa used the empty bottle of rejuvenation to collect her tears. She cried so hard, it wasn’t long before the bottle was overflowing.

“There, there,” the frog man comforted her. “It was just an accident. You wouldn’t have drunk the potion if you’d known what it was.”

“But I would!” Medusa confessed. “For the first time in decades, I’ve found a way to break the curse! I’ve found a cure for this miserable existence! There’s nothing I wouldn’t do to get rid of the monster I’ve become! I just wish it didn’t have to come at such a terrible price!”

Medusa’s admitted selfishness made her cry even harder than she had before. For reasons unknown to him, the frog man sympathized with her dark confession. He went silent for a few moments and gathered the right words to advise her with.

“If you ask me, there are two options at hand. Both will change you, but only one will get rid of the monster forever.”

“What’s the first option?” she asked.

“You can drink all the potions upstairs and return to the woman you were before the curse. You’ll never turn another soul into stone and never see a monster in the mirror again. But if you steal from these children, you won’t look like a monster anymore—you’ll just be one. And that’s much worse, in my opinion.”