(Path of The Dragon Mage: Exiled) 3. Escape (Patreon)

“This is outrageous.” Vesper paced the small confines of their shared cell. It was a stone room, made to hold a woman with a talent for air… and one talentless boy. 

Corvus watched her warily from the other side of the room, bracing for the winds to blow in again. Vesper’s anger had already whipped small bits of gravel and dust on violent zephyrs. Somehow the miniature storm never battered her. She always looked surprised when Corvus yelped and pleaded with her to be careful.

She managed to calm for a few minutes before getting up to pace again. The air tasted thick with her anger.

“When my family's house hears about this, Orphus will pay dearly,” Vesper spat. The tears and streaked makeup had long dried on her face. She clenched and unclenched her fists, long fingernails clacking like angry bird beaks. “He is not as strong as he would like everyone to believe.”

Corvus looked down at his hands. In the pale light from the moon streaming in from the window, his skin looked translucent. He could see hints of his own veins and wondered whose blood ran truly through them. 

“Mother, what they said... Is my father—Is Cipherus really my—”

She whipped around, eyes blazing. “How could you ask that? My own son!”

“But the Blood Tell's Needle said I wasn’t his!”

“The scholar was paid off by your father to lie! Use your head, Corvus.”

He swallowed hard around the lump in his throat. 

Abruptly, Vesper knelt to his level and took his face between his hands. “Look at me. You are Cipherus’s son. I swear this to you and on the shell of the first dragon.”

“But he doesn’t want me to be his son,” Corvus said, aching.

“That’s because your father doesn’t know a good thing when he has it.”

The words should have felt comforting, but Corvus got the impression that, as usual, his mother was talking about herself. Not him. He looked away.

Letting out a sigh, Vesper sat next to him and tugged him into a reluctant hug. He knew he should pull away—he was getting too old for hugs—but he was tired, scared, and grief-stricken. 

What’s going to happen to me now? What am I supposed to do if I’m not a prince?

She stroked his hair. “This will pass. My family will use all pressures on the king to restore us to our rightful place.”

“Mother—”

“And I will let you in on a little secret. Can you keep it for me? A secret just between the two of us?”

He drew back, looking at her curiously. “What secret?”

“You promise not to tell?” Her smile was impish, making her look as young as a girl.

“I swear.”

“Your scholarly distant cousin is not the only one who has access to ancient charmed artifacts. If your father believes he can remarry and sire another heir, he will be quite mistaken.”

“But… but…” Corvus sputtered. There were so many things factually wrong with her statement, he wasn’t sure where to begin. “You used magic on father? That’s…” Treason. Undisputed, real treason. “You can’t… and—” As usual, the questions piled in, even if they weren’t appropriate. “What are charmed artifacts? What element does blood belong to?”

“None, silly boy.” Her tinkling laugh was out of place in the dank, shadowy cell. “It’s only hedge-witchery. Not true magic.”

He didn't understand. The strength of magic was directly based from the elements. So what was a charm? And why was she laughing as if she had played a fine joke?

“Mother—” he began again, then stopped as the stone blocks in the far wall slid away from each other to reveal a doorway. 

Vesper’s laughter cut short.

“Well,” Aunt Sunli said, “I’m glad someone is happy tonight.”

“Sunli!” Vesper stood. “Has the king finally come to his senses?”

“Hardly.” Sunli stepped forward to hand the other woman a tightly wound scroll. “This is for you.”

“What is it?”

“Your divorce decree.”

Vesper threw it right back in her face.

“Mother, stop! Please!” Recognizing the signs of a pending tantrum, Corvus grabbed his mother’s arm to stop her from calling air. Or worse, try to slap the Crown Princess. Vesper would be in so much trouble.

Sunli had not so much as raised her arm to defend herself. She stood stolidly, her face was set as stone. “Your son shows more sense in his pinky finger than you have your entire life, Vesper.”

“How dare you—”

“What by the scales of the First Dragon were you thinking by provoking Cipherus like that?”

Tears flooded into Vesper’s eyes. Not real tears. The dramatic ones. That meant the immediate danger had passed. Corvus let her arm go.

“You have no idea what Cipherus is like!” Vesper wailed. “He is so cold to me. Never once has he showed an ounce of affection. The only time he remembers I am his wife is to blame me for—” She stopped, but the look she shot Corvus spoke volumes. He found himself shrinking back. If only there was such a thing as a shadow talent, he could just… disappear.

Vesper continued, “I wanted to have his attention for once. Is that so wrong?”

“It is when he frames adultery as treason,” Sunli said.

“That is a lie!”

“Is it?”

Vesper flushed but did not answer directly. “Corvus is his son. That… that ridiculous business was nothing but a ruse to nullify our marriage.”

“Now that, I believe,” Sunli said. “My brother could not have been more transparent if he had dropped a bag of coins in the scholar’s hands in front of the king.”

“See!” Vesper cried in triumph. “There!”

“Mother—” Corvus warned because his aunt’s expression had not relaxed out of her stone-hard look.

Vesper rounded on him. “Don’t ‘Mother’ me! Cipherus is the one committing treason against his wife. Against his own son! Don’t you dare defend him, Corvus. Don’t you dare!”

“That is quite enough.”

Sunli’s words were spoken low, but with enough force to silence her. “Before you get it into your head that this is somehow Corvus’s fault—because I know you will—let me be crystal clear: You are the one who gave my brother the opportunity he has been waiting for. He took the bait you put out yourself, and now your son will suffer the consequences for your actions.” Finally, her expression softened. “But the king is no fool, as you said. I have spoken to him, on Corvus’s behalf.”

Corvus’s breath caught. “Then—”

His mother spoke over him. “He will be reinstated as prince?”

Sunli shook her head. “Not quite, but King Orphus remembers a time Corvus asked for a particular gift for his birthday, and I see wisdom in… removing him from poisonous influences to allow his talents to develop.”

Vesper’s face flushed red—a sign that a truly dangerous tantrum was on the horizon. 

Corvus hardly noticed. He stared at his aunt, hardly able to breathe for the hope in his chest.

Sunli continued. “I have a friend, an ex-guard, who will take in a young boy with no family name. He specializes in coaxing talents out of late bloomers.”

“He can find out what’s wrong with me?” Corvus blurted. “Why I can’t do magic?”

“There is nothing wrong with you,” Sunli corrected.

He wished that were true.

Vesper waved the words away as if they were errant flies. “Yes, yes, but what about me?”

To this, Sunli pulled out a second scroll from her pockets. “You are to rest and recover in the Shield House countryside estates. I am told that the plains are lovely this time of the year.”

Corvus cringed as his mother swelled up. “That is not acceptable. My son be parted from me? Never.”

Sunli raised an eyebrow. “You would rather stay and be tried for treason?”

“At least then I would have my dignity. I would be allowed to speak in public court of how unfairly I’ve been treated!”

“You are not thinking clearly,” Sunli said coldly. “Come, Corvus. Say goodbye to your mother.”

“No! This was your plan all along!” The wind whipped up in protest. Vesper grabbed Corvus’s wrist and her nails dug in deep. “I see it now. You want to be queen when Orphus dies, and make your daughter the crown princess. You are trying to tear my family apart!”

Sunli’s expression darkened. The stone walls and the floor under them shook with force enough to knock Vesper off her feet. She fell, bringing Corvus painfully down with her.

He struggled to rise and found his aunt helping him up. His mother’s nails raked into the skin of his arm as he pulled away.

The next moment he had stepped beyond the confines of the cell. The stone wall snapped together like interlocking puzzle pieces. 

His mother wailed, high and piercing. Corvus winced.

“I’ll be all right, Mother!” he called. “I’ll… I’ll make you proud. I’ll write, I promise!”

But he couldn’t tell if she heard him over her own voice.

* * *

Corvus followed his aunt as she led the way back up the twisting passageways and to the palace proper. At this time of night, there were no servants awake to refresh the lamps. The halls were only partially lit, giving everything an eerie cast.

He looked out the window, trying and failing to judge the time. Would this night ever end?

“I know it was not easy to leave your mother like that,” Sunli said at length. “But you’ve made the right decision.”

At least they were far enough away not to hear her crying. 

“Do you think it’s true? Was the scholar paid to say I’m not Cipherus’s son?” He swallowed hard against the sudden lump in his throat. His father never seemed to like him, but Corvus always thought he might if only he discovered his magical talents. Now, he was too late.

His aunt sighed. “There are different shades of truth within the royal court. There is the absolute truth, what everyone believes to be true, and then what the king decides is true.”

“… Oh.”

He looked away, thinking of what his mother said of hedge magic and charms. Was she right about that, too? Did Cipherus intend to start a new family? Finally have a son he could be proud of?

How in the world did hedge-magic work if it wasn't tied to one of the elements?

For once, Corvus didn’t have the energy to ask.

“Speed will be our friend tonight,” Sunli continued. “I’ve had my daughter take the liberty of packing for your travel.” At his confused glance she explained, “Your room butler was under Cipherus’s employment.”

His servants. He spent much more time with them throughout the day than with his family. What would they think when they heard the news? Would they miss him? Or be glad to be assigned to someone who could do magic?

“Do you think my father told them—”

“He is not your father any longer, legally.” Sunli’s words were gentle, but were unmistakably a rebuke.

Corvus felt a fresh stab of grief. He nodded, swallowing down  a new tightness in his throat. He would not shame himself by crying.

He focused on something else. “Will Mother be okay?”

“I dare say she will, once she has time to calm down and think. Don’t worry about her, Corvus. Focus on what your new Master will have to teach you.”

He nodded.

The hallway came to an end. Through the open doorways beyond, a carriage and driver sat waiting. Sunli handed Corvus a sack he assumed was filled with his clothing.

“It may be some time before we see each other again,” Sunli said. “I expect you’ll be taller than me by then. Your father is a tall man.”

Referring to Cipherus as his father was both a small kindness and a reminder. Corvus nodded, unable to speak. Instead, he bowed full curtesy to her before he made his way to the waiting carriage.

He barely had time to shut the door before the driver snapped the reins. The horses jolted forward.

Corvus glanced out the window. At this late hour, none of the lights were lit and the palace seemed to loom over him like a broken toothed monster out of the old tales. 

He turned away. 

Soon he would be outside the grounds—further away from home than he had ever been before. Normally, he would have been too excited to sleep. Now that he was not moving, however, he found exhaustion weighing down on him.

He was not excited about traveling, or sad about everything he had lost. He only felt numb.

He grabbed the travel sack and stuffed it in the corner of the seat, intending to use it as a pillow. But when he laid down, his head struck something hard.

He frowned. Had Starella put in a sack of coins for him? Opening the top of the sack, he plunged his hand inside.

His fingertips brushed a warm shell, and the slight pulse of life that pushed back told him everything he needed to know.

Starella had packed his dragon egg.

Ripping open the bag the rest of the way, he stared down at it, and then out the window. 

It was a crime punishable by death to bring a dragon egg out of the palace grounds. The horses were nearly at the main gate.

He needed to say something, to call out. Toss the egg out the window. Something, anything.

… And if he did any of those things, he would lose the dragon egg forever.

The great palace gates, made of plates of cold black iron, stretched as high as the towers. Corvus stayed silent as first the horses, and then the carriage crossed the threshold.

A wall of glowing blue text lit up before his eyes.