The day was nearly over, ae his best efforts, Balthazar had not yet found a lead on the elusive frostshade flower. Every traveler who passed by had been of no crete help, and even those who promised to look for it left the crab with little hope. Most of them couldn’t tell which way was north, let alone figure out where to find the right flower.

  Lifting his gaze from the herbology book he was studying, Balthazar looked to the other shore, where the other three inhabitants of the pond were. Druma in his bed, Bouldy still firmly pnted behind it, and Blue stretg her body o her cushion. The crab couldn’t recall seeing her fly up to hunt for food all day.

  He wondered if she was refusing to leave the goblin’s side, or if he had simply been too busy all day to notice her catg prey. He decided it was likely the tter, as he still had little belief in the drake g for anyone.

  Or at the very least, he’d like to believe it wasn’t just him she did not care much for.

  Bringing his attention back down to the book, he tinued searg for any refereo where the frostshade flower could possibly grow. He was doing it mostly to keep himself occupied, as he knew finding its location would be of little use outside its blooming season.

  And then there was also the matter of how he couldn’t go find it, even if he knew where it was.

  As much as Balthazar tried to avoid thinking about it, his issue with leaving the area around the pond still tinued eg in the back of his mind.

  He tried to vince himself it erhaps some spell put on him as a prank, that someone would jump out of a bush, pointing and ughing at him for falling for it, but iy, he khat couldn’t be it. Something deep within him really pelled him not to leave the pond.

  But what? And why?

  Even if some divine force existed, why should it care where a simple crab or other random wild animals go? It made no seo him.

  And above all else, he wao know how he could break free from those binds. Whatever “curse” it might be, he could not let it restrict his life forever.

  He didly have any wish to leave his pond, but now that he knew someone or something was restrig his choi the matter, the crab would be damned if he wouldn’t break free from it.

  He would stay in the pond, but he would do it by choiot by decree.

  But all that roblem for ter, he had to keep reminding himself. For the moment, he was doing his best to do something unusual for him: putting other’s is before his own. It was a strange feeling for the self-tered crab, but deep down, it kind of felt good.

  Not that he was yet ready to admit to it if anyone asked. He had a crabby reputation to uphold, after all.

  With a frustrated thud, Balthazar shut the book and pced it ba a shelf. Light was quickly fading from the sky, and he was tired of chasing for leads in old yellowed pages.

  Retrieving a small brioche from one of the baskets Madeleine had left duri visit, the crab skittered along the outer shore of his pond to a remote and tucked away er between some boulders.

  Sitting by the edge of the water, he nibbled on the sweet and fluffy bread, admiring the great vieot provided of the waterfall on the opposite side of the pond.

  The surface was clear and he could see many small fish dang beh the surface, their colorful scales refleg the st remains of sunlight in mesmerizing rainbow patterns.

  The crab was so lost in thought he did not hear any approag footsteps, if there were even any, but by the time he heard the voice, the one who spoke was already sitting on a small roext to him.

  “Hello, Balthie.”

  The startled crab jumped in pd dropped his pastry ier with a loud “plop” sound.

  Velvet, the witch, smiled at him as she crossed her legs aed both hands on her knee.

  “How the hell did you get in here?! Get away from me!” Balthazar quickly blurted out, as he stumbled back against a boulder.

  “Oh now, sweetie, is that the way to treat a friendly face?” she said, pouting her lips and batting her eyeshes.

  “You’re no friend of mihe apprehensive crab excimed, keeping as close to the rod as far from her as he could. “Shoo! Leave my pond, you’re not wele here!”

  “My, you’re awfully bitter, for someone who eats so much sugar. What has that evil baker been putting in your pastries? What was her name? Madeleine, right?”

  “You keep my baker’s of your mouth, witch!” Balthazar warrying his best to sound assertive, despite the faltering in his voice.

  “Such bravado for a silly little girl.” The bck-an pced an open hand against her chest in a dramatiner. “To think that I came here with such good iions, only to be sed like this.”

  “Good iions?” the mert skeptically repeated. “You’re probably here looking to mutite me again!”

  “You wound me, sir!” said the witch mogly. “I came here after I heard word on the road that you were desperately looking for a certain rare flower.”

  Balthazar’s heart sank in his shell.

  “The frostshade petals? Do you know of them?” he hesitantly asked, unsure of whiswer he feared most.

  She opened a wide smile, revealing her pristine white teeth that trasted against the bess of her lipstick.

  “Know of them? Darling, I plucked them myself st season.”

  Balthazar started averting his eyes as he saw her fingers reach between the cleavage of her dress until he realized she was only retrieving a small vial from there. While her dress did seem to y pockets, the crab still found her choice for item ste too unventional.

  As she brought the small tainer uhe fading sunlight, Balthazar saw what was inside: five pointy and dried out petals of a blue flower. A perfect match to what the shaman had drawn and described.

  “Is this not what you were looking for?” she asked.

  The crab did not respond, but his troubled expression was enough firmation for the witch.

  “Don’t look so glum, darling,” Velvet said, palming the vial away from sight again. “I thought you’d be ecstatic that I’ve brought you these.”

  “I’m not a fool,” the defted crab said. “I know you will want something for them, and it won’t be money or anything I’m going to like.”

  “Again, your words pierce me like daggers, Balthie. I’m a reasonable woman. I know what these petals are used for. I know you hem to cure someone. And judging by the sorry state of your little assistant over there, I make a good guess as to why you were so desperately looking for these.”

  She gave a nod to the ter islet in the distance, where Druma was.

  “What do you want?” Balthazar asked, with a dry and bitter tone.

  “For a start, I’d really like for you to stop being so hostile,” said the witch, tilting her head and batting her eyeshes slowly. “I’ve never really done any harm to you, have I? ’t you just sider that I’m really not that bad? I thought you, better than anyone, would uand what it’s like to have others judge us by what we are, before they eveo know us. Is it really so much to ask that we have a civilized versation? Go on, sit, let’s talk. I promise I won’t bite.”

  She gestured for the spaext to her where Balthazar was sitting moments before. With great hesitation, he slowly walked bad sat down.

  While he still felt suspicious about the witch, he could not simply turn his bad possibly throw away his only ce at getting his pincers on those petals that could save his friend.

  He looked down at the water, the fish nibbling away at bits and pieces of his brioche that floated he surface.

  “See? No harm done,” Velvet said, as she readjusted her long bck dress in order to turn and face the crab. “Now we talk properly, look each other in the eyes and be sincere, right?”

  “Sure” Balthazar hesitantly said, while looking up at her pale fad pierg blue eyes.

  “My, my, the descriptions just don’t do you justice,” the woman said, admiring the crab. “The shine of your carapace, these powerful cws, those robust legs. What a spe!”

  “Hey, hands off,” the embarrassed crab protested, as the witch hovered her hand over his figure.

  “Don’t be so shy,” she asked, while leaning closer. “I really think you’re quite the crab, you know? Not like all those adventurers out there with their pathetic two legs and puny hands. And you got the smarts behind it all, too.”

  Balthazar khe witch wasn’t to be trusted, but something about her was feeling more and more captivating. Being closer to her, he could almost swear she smelled like freshly baked pastries.

  “Y-you think?” the flustered crab asked. “I mea’s focus on the business at hand, please. The petals, are you willing to trade them?”

  “For you? Of course,” she whispered in a low voice, her face leaning over even closer to Balthazar’s eyes. “But what are you willing to offer for your friend’s salvation?”

  The crab gulped. As awkward and unfortable as he was feeling, he couldn’t pull his gaze away from her eyes. Those big, peing eyes, like two shiny jewels. And Balthazar certainly loved shiny things.

  “You’re… you’re talking about one of my legs like st time, or something, aren’t you? What… what is it with you and the weird need for crab parts?” he asked, struggling t a straight senteh her face so close to his.

  “Not just any crab, darling,” Velvet said, her arm now resting over the crab’s shell, and her bails tapping softly on his golden chitin. “You’re a very special, unique crab. And I really, really need a little piece of you in order to finish my little project. I’ve been w on it for so long, looking for the right oo help me finish it. You ’t imagine my joy when I finally found you. You don’t o worry, you trust me. It’s just a little leg, what’s the harm? You’ll surely grow it back, and I’d make sure you wouldn’t feel a thing.”

  She slid off the rod down to the ground, her arm now fully embrag the crab, her other hand trag his with a nail.

  “Perhaps,” she tinued, “you could even e with me after. I could show you so much. It would be just us, Velvet and Balthazar, against the world. Me with my knowledge and craft, you with your… uniqueness. I could do so much with you. All the way to the top. If you only knew how special you are, Balthie. What do you say?”

  The crab felt lightheaded. Like the day he fell asleep uhe hot summer sun after havien a few too many strawberry tarts, and everything around him inning. It was a funny feeling, but for some reason, not pletely unpleasant.

  His smarts kept telling not to trust a word the witch said, all the way from the back of his brain, like nagging distant voices, but why not? She didn’t seem so bad, now that he was getting to know her from up close. So very close.

  Balthazar felt as if he was sweating buckets inside his shell, but he just couldn’t tear himself away from her enthralling gaze.

  “I-I guess a leg is not that big of a deal,” the mesmerized mert stuttered. “I got plenty more. Are you sure it really wouldn't hurt?”

  With her eyes still locked on his, the witch slowly reached behind her bad unhooked a sharp sickle from her dress’s waist.

  “Of course, sweetie,” Velvet murmured. “You just have to trust me.”

  H0st