to conclusions, I said, “Let’s keep looking,”
Walking close together, we crossed Mosswood Bridge and entered town. The streets were suspiciously empty of people the same way they had been earlier in the morning.
The only difference was that there were curious piles everywhere. Lots of them. Sacks of spilled vegetables, overturned buckets, broken crates, bits and pieces of cracked pottery, and woven baskets full of laundry lay discarded on the streets.
Everything looked as if it had been dropped suddenly. The piles were scattered on the ground as if their owners had had run off or disappeared. But people didn’t just disappear or run off without a reason. They ran because they were chased by something awful.
We turned the corner to our street and almost stepped on a big frog. I froze and Jozlyn bumped into my back. The bats in my stomach were doing acrobatics.
“What—?” Jozlyn started to ask but lost her voice in surprise.
The frog hopped to the right and eyed us curiously.
“Ribbit!” it croaked in an authoritative voice. “Watch where you’re going, peasants.”
14: OFFICIAL WIZARD-SEEKERS
“CONNOR, is that you?” I squinted at the frog. It sure didn’t look like Connor, all oily green and smooth. But it was big for a frog the same way Connor was big for a boy.
“It’s me, peasant—Sir Connor,” the frog exclaimed in an agitated croak. “The whole town’s been turned into frogs, ribbit!”
While the frog didn’t look like Connor, it sure sounded like him.
Jozlyn held up her hands. “All right, all right. I believe you.” She glanced at me and I shrugged, then nodded in agreement. “We believe you. But where is everyone else? Have you seen our parents?”
Connor the frog flicked his long tongue out as he settled comfortably on his back legs. He seemed glad that we believed him.
“Everyone’s gathered outside the mayor’s house, ribbit,” he croaked. “Even your parents. Mayor Garlo sent me to scout for people. People-people. Not frog-people. You’re the first I’ve spotted, ribbit.”
Jozlyn and I shared a quick look. “You don’t know the half of it,” I told Connor in a rush. All the memories of the morning’s adventures came rushing back to me. “Cleogha cornered us at the festival grounds. She tried to turn us into frogs, too, but we hid in the woods.”
Connor hopped closer to me. “In Everleaf Woods? Ribbit. You’re lucky then. Witch Cleogha got everyone else.”
Without any girly squeamishness, Jozlyn scooped Connor into her hands. “Let’s go see the mayor,” she said sweetly to Connor. “Sir Frog.”
Connor flicked his tongue again and let out a long, wet raspberry. “Tttthhhbbttt! Very funny peasant, ribbit.”
Jozlyn and I giggled. After the lonely trek through the fog and the terrible scare from the witch, it was good to be with a friend. Even a frog-friend.
I tried to enjoy the good feeling as we walked to the mayor’s house, but it didn’t last. Everyone in town but Jozlyn and me was a frog. I couldn’t stay happy knowing that.
Frogs and more frogs of every shape and size hunkered and hopped outside the mayor’s house. They croaked. They shot their tongues at passing insects. They puffed and deflated their chins the way frogs do. Then they croaked some more.
Frogs sat on barrels and crates, in doorways and windows, along the edge of the road, and in the shade of buildings. It looked like the whole town of frog-people was there.
When they saw us, they quickly stopped what they were doing and became very quiet. The noise of their croaking and the slaps of their hopping echoed into silence.
I fidgeted nervously and Jozlyn stared hard at her feet. We might have been the tallest ones there but we still felt like children.
“Thank the lucky stars!” a frog suddenly shouted in Mom’s voice. That broke the awkward silence and everyone sighed in relief.
Mom hopped eagerly toward Jozlyn and me. “I’m so happy to see you, ribbit. Your father and I were so worried when we discovered you missing this morning.” Another bigger frog hopped alongside her. It was Dad.
“Mom! Dad!” Jozlyn wailed. She was crying, and I was close to doing the same. Seeing your parents as frogs would make anyone cry, I think.
Jozlyn carefully set Connor down and knelt on the ground so that she could embrace our parents. I sat down cross-legged next to her. Mom hopped onto my knee. Dad bounced into Jozlyn’s waiting hands.
We cried a little before a loud croak boomed out. “My, my, children. We’re all relieved to see you, ribbit.”
It was the mayor. He sat perched on top of a flat wagon without sides. Even in frog form, he still wore his usual top hat and had his bushy white mustache.
“As you can see,” he continued, “we are in desperate need of your help.”
I blinked and looked at Jozlyn. She appeared to be as surprised as me. “Us?” I asked. “How can we help?”
The witch had almost turned us into frogs, too. We’d barely escaped. I don’t know what the mayor expected us to do.
Mayor Garlo puffed out his frog’s chin. It reminded me of the way he huffed his cheeks when he was a person. His mustache stuck out straight and then fell slowly back into place.
“Why, to find the wizard, ribbit,” he explained. “Wizard Ast will surely have the antidote to Cleogha’s frog spell.”
Mom ribbited suddenly. It sounded like a gasp.
Wizard Ast lived in a secluded tower on top of rocky Craggerscraw Hill. The tower was named Ninespire. Next to Croneswart Swamp, it was the last place I wanted to go.
The wizard wasn’t mean exactly. He was more like grumpy and old and very much against surprise visitors. That’s why he lived on the hill outside of town. He preferred to keep to himself and not be bothered by regular townsfolk.
“Not my babies!” Mom croaked in alarm. I was nervous, too, and didn’t like the idea of visiting the wizard uninvited, but why did she have to use the word babies?
The crowd of frogs started croaking and talking all at once. Some of them seemed to be in favor of sending Jozlyn and me to find the wizard. Others didn’t.
“I say,” a wrinkled old frog croaked, “the young lass should kiss us, ribbit. I hear that’s supposed to break the spell.”
The old frog sounded like Pa Gnobbles, the town’s oldest living resident. He was over one hundred years old. By lass, he meant Jozlyn. Some older folks called girls lasses and boys lads.
“Hush up, you old scoundrel,” another frog croaked. This one sounded like Widow Marmelmaid. “Ribbit, listen to what the mayor has to say.”
Everyone turned back to Mayor Garlo and quieted down.
“Who else is there to help us, ribbit?” croaked the mayor. He hopped to one side of the wagon and made a big show of peering about as if he was searching for something. Then he hopped to the other side and repeated the gesture.
“My, my,” he continued. “I don’t see any people but young Josh and Jozlyn. They’ll have to make the trip. There’s no one else, ribbit.”
My heart sank but I had to agree. The sharp rocks of Craggerscraw Hill were too steep and high for frogs to climb. None of the townsfolk could make it up in frog form. That left the job to Jozlyn and me.
Jozlyn handed Dad to me and stood up. “We’ll be honored to help the town in any way we can, Mayor Garlo,” she said for both of us. Then she curtsied gracefully as if she’d been practicing. Even dressed in my clothes, she looked as elegant as a queen.
“No!” Mom cried from my lap. “Send someone else.”
“My, my. Sara, Nigel, I’m sorry,” Mayor Garlo apologized. Those were my parents’ names, Sara and Nigel. “But there really is no one else, ribbit.”
The mayor hopped from the wagon in a great leap and made his bounding way over to where Jozlyn and I sat with our parents. The crowd of frogs backed up respectfully to let him pass.
He stopped in front of us and puffed out his chin. “As Mayor of this town, ribbit, I hereby name you, Jozlyn and Josh, Official Wi
zard-Seekers of Tiller’s Field. My, my. May you serve our town well.”
15: FALLING UPHILL
JOSH, Official Wizard-Seeker of Tiller’s Field. It sounded like an important title, like something a hero would be called.
I would have liked it if I hadn’t known what it meant.
It meant that I had to climb Craggerscraw Hill, find a way into the magic tower, and convince Wizard Ast to help.
Any of those tasks would have been plenty of challenge, an adventure all by itself. Doing all three together was probably going to be impossible.
Jozlyn looked ready to go and seemed to be enjoying her position as Official Wizard-Seeker of Tiller’s Field. She stood in the center of a circle of croaking frogs who were congratulating her, thanking her, and wishing her luck on her heroic adventure.
She was a very brave girl, they told her. Please be careful and hurry back with the wizard.
No one enjoyed eating flies, it seemed. They would all appreciate us doing our best and being careful so long as we returned before dinner time.
Townsfolk crowded around me, too, but I wasn’t paying much attention. I was thinking that one adventure a day was enough. Having a second one today didn’t sound appealing.
I’d rescued Rosie, and Jozlyn and I had already escaped Cleogha. How much was a hero supposed to do in one day? On a breakfast of bread and cheese no less!
I was tired, nervous, and still didn’t have a sword. Every hero should carry a sword no matter what Jozlyn said.
Pa Gnobbles got us on our way. “Back away now,” he ordered the crowd. “The Wizard-Seekers have a job to do,