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lots of years to cast lots of spells?”
    â€œBut isn’t that the point?” Imogene said. “She
did
turn out to be a witch. Who hasn’t made herself attractive. For whatever reason.”
    â€œYou always got to be right, don’t you, Princess?” Harry snapped.
    â€œYou’re the one who brought it up,” Imogene snapped right back.
    â€œAnyways,” Harry said, “I didn’t believe she was a witch, even though
you
probably would of on account of you being a princess and being so smart about everything. And there was her yard, with all them apples nobody was eating except for the worms once them apples fell off them trees, and with me with never enough to eat.”
    â€œSo you went into her yard?” Imogene said. “To take an apple because you were hungry? And she caught you and changed you into a frog for
that?
” It hardly seemed fair.
    Harry squirmed. “Well,” he admitted, “with me and my brothers and sisters with never enough to eat.”
    â€œAll right,” Imogene said. “So you took . . . several . . . apples? For your brothers and sisters?” She thought there might be six of the children, total, but she wasn’t absolutely certain.
    It was hard to believe someone could be so cruel to begrudge six—or even seven—hungry children an apple each, and Imogene took a few moments to think about going to someone like that and asking for help in de-frogging herself.
    Moments Harry apparently spent thinking about something, too.
    â€œWell . . .” he said.
    That brought her back quickly. “What?”
    â€œA few of them apples—you, know, the ones on the ground—they were wormy. And mushy. They were no good to eat.”
    Imogene tapped her little webbed foot. “And so?” she prompted.
    â€œSo,” Harry admitted, “I threw a few of them, for target practice.”
    â€œTarget practice?”
Imogene demanded. “Don’t tell me you were throwing apples at the witch.”
    â€œNo!” Harry assured her. “I’d never do that.” His squirming resumed. “Not intentionally.” He sighed, as though she was interrogating him. “All right, all right, I was throwing them at her door. How was I to know she was home? How was I to know she’d choose
then
to come out?”
    Imogene sighed, too. “And that was when she turned you into a frog? After you accidentally hit her with an apple?”
    Harry considered for a bit too long before saying, “More or less.”
    â€œMore or less what?” Imogene snapped.
    â€œI was throwing the apples fast,” Harry said. “And I’m a very good shot. Maybe two hit her.”
    Imogene just looked at him and waited.
    â€œThree at the most.”
    â€œAnything else you need to tell me?”
    â€œNo, Princess, that’s about it. What do you need to know all this for, anyway?”
    It was so obvious, Imogene couldn’t believe he had to ask. “So I can track her down. And convince her to take the spell off me without my having to pass it on to someone else.”
    Harry snorted. “Yeah, well—good luck with that!” he said.

Chapter 3:
A Princess Ought to Be Fearless
    (That’s just crazy: the only people who are fearless are people who have no imagination)
    Â 
    Â 
    Princess Imogene had hoped that Harry would come with her. But the way he wished her good luck
sounded
like the end of the conversation.
    And the way he turned around and walked away
looked
like the end of the conversation.
    â€œAren’t you going to help me?” she called after him.
    â€œNope,” he called back.
    And that most certainly
was
the end of the conversation.
    Not sure how far her croaky little voice would carry, she shouted after him, “You could at least bring me there.” He couldn’t hear her, not at that distance, but it was hard to give up. “Just to