Tamalia and her Toad

This was my submission for the Florida Writers Association Collections Anthology. It was rejected..Word Count 1,396
Any feedback is appreciated.

Tamalia and her Toad

Tamalia, the premier Human Witchy Woman of the valley town of Glen Dale, walked beside her handsome Dwarf man, Podolfo. The two-day Festival of the Mother on the Summer Solstice was always their special time together. Their tradition was on the first day and night to meet old friends who came from the far ends of the valley, and at sunset of the second day the pair had a picnic at their favorite spot by the river. As she had said their farewells, Podolfo had returned to the thatched roof cottage and collected the food basket, the blanket, and the clear bottle of wine cooling in the snowmelt stream in their backyard. Soon they would be at their own private celebration.

The Witchy Woman had been a great curvy beauty in her youth, and her lover was the most handsome. Born with muscles, as all Dwarfs are, he had swept her from her feet though he was three inches shorter. Their Handfasting had been marred only by the objection of Gertrude. The rival Witchy Woman had lusted after the handsome Dwarf and Tamalia had agreed to trial by traditional combat (first blood drawn above the belly button) for the honor of Handfasting. The combatants fought topless, as was the custom, and though Tamalia had suffered a hip wound that plagued her through the years, she had scored a slice across the blonde rival's left breast. She had won her man.

She limped slightly, and thought she heard a whisper in the wind. She canted her head listening, but it was faint, an echo of something said earlier in the day. It stuck to her eardrums. Podolfo squeezed her hand as they reached their favorite spot.

As Tamalia brushed her slightly gray hair out of her brown eyes, she watched as her Dwarf man pulled the cork with his still strong teeth and took a long swig of the elderberry wine. The bottle dropped from his nerveless hands, and landed on the grass, it did not break, his eyes bulged, and began to shift to the side and to the top of his head. As he shrank to the shape and size of an overly large toad, his skin became nubby and stretchy. Soon he sat on four squat legs on the faded green linen blanket and croaked.

Metamorphosis, Transformation, Transmogrification. The horror ran through the mind of the Witchy Woman in an instant. She picked up the toad, her erstwhile lover and friend, Podolfo croaked again. She picked up the wine bottle and looked at it with the setting sun behind it. There was a blue tint where there should not be. The bottle and cork was their own. The cork, was easily pulled when he went to the vintner to have it filled for their little rendezvous. Possibly poisoned while it was cooling in the stream, but who other than Gertrude would hold a jealous grudge for so long.

Tamalia left the blanket, and basket of food where it lay. In her right hand she held her transformed beloved. In her left was the stoppered bottle of ensorcelled wine. She needed to get home. Gertrude was a second-rate Dwarf Witch, but she had obviously found a potion, and the right words to conduct such an extreme spell. She hurried home, her hip paining her with the exaggerated pace.

"Midnight!" was the whisper stuck to her eardrums. Her rival had left a clue, and she was too busy to pay attention to it till now. Midnight and the spell would be permanent.

The last light of the red dying sun was slanted in over the mountain tips and gave her enough light to light the time candle, and three of the oil lamps. There was little more than three hours from sunset to midnight on the Summer Solstice. She had to work quickly. She set the toad on her worktable. The former Dwarf Man croaked at her.

First, she pulled four leaves from the Agis plant in its pot by the bedstead. Known universally as a pregnancy inhibitor, chewing the leaves kept the man's seed from fertilizing the woman's eggs. Most useful if both chewed, it was still effective if only one ingested the flavorful leaves; that is why it made such a good revitalizing tonic with water. If its properties could keep the spell from permanency, it would give her more time.

The Witchy Woman gathered her pots and vials and added the ingredients to a tiny cauldron placed over a small burner. She added a clip of Bat's ear, the eye juice of a frog (sorry my love), three drops of urine from a unicorn, and the powdered shell of an armored bunny. She stirred the heated mixture and said the words of binding over the separate ingredients to make them one.

Podolfo sat still, as if he knew how important this was. Tamalia dribbled a few drops into the toad's wide mouth. She watched and waited. The ingredients were correct as an antidote, and the words she had said were proper to counteract a transformation. So, why was it not working? What was missing?

A snort of derision erupted from the open doorway. Tamalia had forgotten to close it in her haste. Gertrude stood with left arm raised and leaning nonchalantly on the jamb. In the summer heat she wore a light cotton shirt, and a loose skirt. She scuffed her sandaled foot across the threshold making an irritating noise. Podolfo croaked again.

"l even gave you a hint. I whispered it in the wind when I poured the potion into the wine this morning, and yet you were too stupid to realize the meaning."

Tamalia scowled at her rival and yet a dark stain on her left breast caught her eye in the glimmer of light from the lamp. She glanced at the time candle. Had three hours truly passed as she had been witching? Not much time left till permanency set in. She must hurry unless the Agis leaves worked.

Tamalia exhaulted as if a thunderbolt had struck her mind. Her thoughts raced as she understood the significance of the dried blood on Gertrude's peach colored shirt, the scar from the Handfasting combat. She had cut it open. She had used her own blood in the potion. The blood that contained an age-old grudge and jealousy of a sort that lingered for decades. She had the answer!

Tamalia tossed the useless potion into the fire. It flared and spit but died out soon enough.
She took her glass cauldron, filled it with the ensorcelled wine, , and
distilled the potion and the wine into its pure form. While that was working, she produced a crystal goblet, the finest in her house, her prized possession. Gertrude flinched as a sharp knife was produced. It was Podolto's carving knife. The blade was small, but uniquely crafted for a soft back, and a brittle blade. He had to be careful in his carving not to break the shiny edge.

Tamalia lifted her good skirt; it was a rustic blue with gold trimming. She set the blade to the scar on her hip and sliced. She winced and cried out. Blood welled along the line and dripped easily into the crystal goblet. The blood held all her fierceness of the combat for her Handfasting. Pride in her man, and her everlasting love of him. Hurriedly she pulled the glass beaker with the distilled liquid, burning her hand in the process on the hot glass. Mixed it with her blood, and spoke the spell of binding, and other words...words of love and commitment. She fed it to her toad.

The process of poisoning was instantaneous. The remedy was just as quick. The toad grew. Stubby front legs turned into muscular arms, and dry nubby skin became pale white again, his vibrant blue hair and violet eyes returned to their accustomed place on his body, and he was Podolfo again.

Gertrude screamed incoherent profanities in her frustration.

Tamalia moved towards her with the miniscule carving knife, but her bleeding hip gave way and she stumbled. Her Dwarf Man caught her in his finely honed arms and led her to a chair. He began to wrap the wound with a clean dressing.

"I never had a doubt." Podolfo said in a croaky voice.