Froggy's Arc

Chapter 5 of 6

The throne tipped faster. Froggy threw his weight back, but the gold slid under him. Below, the heron lifted its head. It had seen him. The far edge of the pad rose into the air while his side dropped toward the water. He dug his toes into the slick surface and found nothing to hold. He needed weight on the high side, and he needed it now. One frog could not hold the throne. He knew that now. But the frog who could help him had leaped away. She was in the reeds, safe, and she had no reason to come back. "Wait!" Froggy shouted toward the green stalks. The pad kept sliding. "The throne needs two! I can't hold it alone!" The reeds shook. The frog in the bright dress poked her head out. She looked at him, at the tipping pad, at the heron rising in the water. "You said you wouldn't share," she called. "I was wrong!" The water was close now. He could smell the mud. "Come back. We both rule it, or I feed the bird. Your choice too." She did not move for one long breath. Froggy's back foot touched water. The heron stepped forward, beak ready. Then the frog in the dress spread her feet and dove. She hit the lane clean and swam hard for the throne. The heron turned toward her and stabbed. She twisted left. The beak struck the water where she had been. "Climb!" Froggy yelled. He leaned as far back as he dared, holding his corner down. She reached the low edge and clawed up the slick gold. Her fingers slipped. She caught the rim with both hands and hauled herself over. "The far side!" he said. "Get to the far side!" She scrambled past him to the high edge and dropped her weight onto it. The pad slowed. It wobbled. Then it settled flat and still, level on the water. Froggy felt it hold under both of them. The heron screamed and waded back to its corner, cheated of two meals at once. They stood on the throne together, breathing hard, soaked. The sun warmed the gold between them. "It's steady now," she said. She smoothed her wet dress. "Because there are two of us." Froggy nodded. He had wanted the throne for himself. He had crossed the whole pond for a seat that would drown him alone. Now he shared it with the frog he had tried to drive off. The throne was his. It was also hers. He did not know yet how two frogs could rule one pad without the old fight starting again. But the gold held them both above the beak, and for now that was enough. "Don't scratch it," she said, and almost smiled.