Moss covered the trees and algae concealed the waters.

The riding geckos carried Mousey and his traveling companions through the swamp. Up ahead, Mousey saw a long, winding bridge over black muck filled with worms and snakes. At the end of the bridge sat a strange structure, something Mousey could only assume had been left over from the tall apes.

The structure was an enormous metal box, with square windows at the top far larger than any wall in any house Mousey had ever seen. The entire structure rested on four, black, rubber wheels; each with a rusted, orange plate in the center. The toads had cut out several smaller windows throughout the walls of this metal box, and Mousey could see the lookouts peering through.

“Open the gate!” the Toad King shouted as he drew close.

There was a clicking sound, and a section of the wall closest to them slid open. Inside the Toad King’s castle, Mousey could see that the bottom floor was covered in mud, but that the toads had built several more floors above that, each with a different purpose. On one floor, dozens of toads gathered around gambling tables, playing with dice made from bones. On another floor, toads practiced with rods and dulled swords.

Once inside the castle, the Toad King dismounted, as did his cavalry. Mousey felt a toad lift him off the back of the gecko he’d been riding and set him down on the muddy floor. Smaller toads hurried over to take the reins for each riding gecko and lead them away.

The Toad King looked at Mousey and gestured for him to follow. Mousey scurried along to catch up with him, his paws sliding in the mud. Once he’d caught up, the Toad King walked over to a door inside the castle and opened it for Mousey. “Bufo is in there. Don’t you dare try anything stupid.”

“Of course,” squeaked Mousey, nodding his head. He entered the room, and saw in it a ceramic pool, in which floated a tadpole whose skin was almost white, rather than brown or gray. The tadpole had two legs tucked under his tail, and huge, bronze-colored eyes. Bufo stared up at Mousey but said nothing.

“So,” croaked the Toad King. “Can you cure him?”

“Yes,” said Mousey, nodding his head. “I can. I just need a few supplies.”

The Toad King’s minions all brought Mousey everything he requested, and he got to work brewing the cure for Swamp Plague. Throughout the process, the Toad King paced back and forth in that room, and Mousey would occasionally look down at Bufo. The tadpole barely moved, and the expression on his face looked defeated.

Once Mousey was done mixing the cure, he poured it into a bottle and held it out to Bufo. “Open your mouth, please.”

Bufo looked up at him, then shook his head.

“Umm…” Mousey scratched behind one ear. “Please? It will make you feel better.”

Again, Bufo shook his head.

“Your majesty,” squeaked Mousey, turning to face the Toad King, “he won’t take the medicine.”

The Toad King took the bottle in his hand and looked it over. He

This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author's consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.

pressed his nostrils to the lip and sniffed it, then shrugged. “I can’t imagine why not,” he croaked. “Let me try.”

The Toad King sat next to Bufo’s pool and held out the bottle. “Come on, now, son. Open your mouth.”

The tadpole shook his head again and moved a little further away from the Toad King.

“Open your mouth!” the Toad King shouted. He reached his hand into the pool and pulled Bufo closer. The tadpole tried to hold his lips together, but the Toad King squeezed his cheeks until his mouth finally opened. As soon as it was open, the Toad King held him and poured the medicine in. “There! You’ll thank me some day, my grodling.” He released the tadpole from his grip, and Bufo swam away from him.

Within a few moments a brown color returned to Bufo’s skin, and he swam around the pool.

“He’s cured!” the Toad King croaked. “Ha ha! He’s cured!” He smiled down at Mousy. “You’ve done it, little mouse! You’ve saved my son! Whatever you want, it’s yours! As long as it’s within my power to give.”

“I want to go free,” said Mousey, “Along with my mother and Sir Ranae.”

“Why did Bufo refuse the cure?” Sopher asked in Mousey’s thoughts.

“That was already part of the deal,” said the Toad King, rubbing his hands together. “No, I want to give you a real gift. What would you like? Gold? Precious gems?”

“I…” Mousey scratched his own chin, then the back of his head, and said, “How about just a moment to speak with Bufo? I haven’t talked with anyone close to my age in a long time.”

The Toad King stared at Mousey for a moment and licked one of his eyeballs. “You have the gratitude of a king… yet the only reward you want is a moment to speak to…”

“A prince,” said Mousey, with a grin.

The Toad King chuckled. “I see. You want to make friends with my heir. Very well. But… if anything happens to him while I’m gone…”

“I know,” said Mousey, “I’ll be slow-roasted and fed to your soldiers. I swear by the Heavens I only wish to talk with him.”

The Toad King nodded, then left the room, closing the door behind him.

Mousey turned to Bufo and gave the most sympathetic look he could. “Hi, my name is Mousey. Umm… Your father’s not very kind to you, is he?”

Bufo stared up at him but didn’t say anything.

Mousey continued, “That’s why you refused to drink the cure? Your father makes your life miserable?”

Again, Bufo merely stared.

Mousey sighed. “I swear, I won’t tell anyone what you told me. Did I guess right?”

Bufo stared a little longer, then nodded his head.

Mousey sighed and hung his head. “I was afraid of that. My Dad’s not very kind either.”

Bufo tilted his head to one side.

Mousey chuckled. “Do you speak at all?”

Bufo pushed his head out of the water and said, “Yes,” then ducked back in.

Mousey thought, “Sopher, is there anything we can do for him?”

“If you try to take him out of here you’ll be killed.”

“I know that,” thought Mousey. “But… he needs a friend, with what he’s going through. You got me through my time in the tower, maybe I can get him through this?”

“We have to leave soon,” said Sopher, “But you can enchant an item and give it to him, and then he can speak to you through it.”

Mousey nodded, took the mixing bowl in his paws. He cracked the bowl in half against the side of the ceramic pool, then held the pieces together, closed his eyes, and whispered. “Please… be a means for me to continue speaking with my new friend, Bufo, no matter how far apart we may be. May he be able to speak into one half of you, and I into the other, and it will be as if we are in the same room. I give you this purpose, broken bowl, and name you…” Mousey struggled to think of an appropriate name, but nothing was coming to mind.

Bufo stuck his head up out of the water and said, “Link.”

Mousey smiled at him, nodded his head, then turned back to

the broken bowl. “Yes, Link. Your name is Link, for you shall link the two of us together.”

A voice spoke from the mixing bowl, “Thank you.”

Mousey took one half of the bowl and placed it in Bufo’s pool, then tucked the other half into his pocket. He looked into Bufo’s eyes and said, “Now, any time you need a friend to talk to, you have me. I’ll even try to teach you a little bit about magic. Would you like that?”

Bufo nodded his head vigorously, causing waves to splash against the ceramic walls.

Mousey laughed and gave Bufo a gentle pat on the head. “For now, though, I have to go. It was good to meet you, Bufo.”

Bufo popped his head out of the water and said, “Good to meet you too, Mousey.”