(Path of the Dragon Mage: Exiled) 12. See-Me-Not Pendent (Patreon)

Corvus stepped back in surprise. "What...? Wait, where did you go?" He turned around, searching.

There was the sound of splashing water and the horse snorted again.  Corvus fell back as a large, invisible, body passed him in a rush of  air.

The girl had ridden her horse out of the water to the sandy bank. By  the crackle of bushes he could hear, but not see, they were pushing  through the thick brush. None of the branches had so much had moved, but  that was an illusion.

No, it was magic.

No sooner had he had that thought then he charged after them.

“No! Wait! Come back!”

The horse was faster, of course, but it was dripping wet and left a  trail in the sandy soil for him to follow. The hoof prints stood out  clearly.

He nearly lost the trail twice. The second time he stopped and  strained to listen. Then—there!—the sound of a horse's soft whicker in  the distance. He turned down a path that curled to the left.

Soon, the brush opened up into a glade with a carpet of sparse grass.  Corvus stumbled to a stop, gasping for air, clutching a stitch at his  side. The girl was once again visible. She had dismounted and was busy  tying a makeshift harness around the horse’s neck made from scraps of  colorful linen.

She startled at his approach and then scowled at him.

“You can’t prove I was in the lake. No one would believe you.”

“Why do I care?” he asked, “And who would I tell?”

“The village guard, of course. You’re a Towner, aren’t you?”

He wasn’t quite sure what a ‘Towner’ was. Telling her, ‘No, I was a prince' didn’t seem like a very smart thing to admit, either. "I don’t live in the village.”

She looked at him. “Well it don’t matter anyway, you can’t prove nothing.”

He shook his head again and stepped forward. “How did you disappear like that?”

She looked at him as if he’d grown two heads. Solt had the same look  when Corvus said he couldn’t swim or had never picked up a sword before.

“What, you mean my charm?” Her hand reached to touch her necklace.  Closer, he realized it was not a pendant, but a piece of shiny metal,  polished up. A rune was carved in the middle, though it was too small  for him to make out details.

And the outline glowed blue.

ITEM: See-Me-Not Pendent
DESCRIPTION: A magical artifact used to bend light around its wearer. Warning: Requires daylight or strong moonlight.
DURABILITY: 65/100

“It’s a See-Me-Not charm," she said, by chance echoing the  description. “It's been in my family for generations. I wouldn’t have  used it, if I didn’t know you weren’t a towner. I’m not supposed to  waste the power.” Then she glanced at him, eyes narrowed. “If you’re not  a towner, what are you doing by the lake? You poaching?”

“Poaching what? Water?”

“Fish.”

“No. I’ve never fished before.”

Again, there was that look, like he were an oddball.

He hastened to explain. “I, uh, well I was frustrated with my lessons, so I was taking a break.”

“School lessons?”

“I wish,” he muttered. If aunt Sunli was going to trick him into  leaving the palace without a fuss, why couldn’t she have found in a  place for him in the scholar’s college instead of a sword master?

Probably because the campus was on palace grounds, and everyone wanted him… away.

“My master’s training me to the sword, but I’m no good at it.”

She grinned, wide and surprisingly wicked. “Then your master is Old  Solt, right? If you ran off from him, you’re probably looking at a  beating when you get back.”

“Probably.” Solt hadn’t hit him yet, but Corvus knew it was a matter of time.

“Better make this day worth it, then.” She stuck out one slightly wet  hand that had more than a little black horse hair stuck all over it.  “My name is Gwenna. Everyone calls me Gwen, so you'd better too.”

Another thing he had never done was shake hands like a commoner, but he knew better than to mention that.

Corvus returned the gesture and they clasped hands. “Corvus.”

“And that there is NightShade.” Gwen gestured at the horse. The  horse, which was cropping the grass, raised its large head at the sound  of its name.

“He’s beautiful,” he admitted. “What breed is he?”

“Mountain Heavy. My family raises them.”

He jerked in surprise. “I know that breed. They’re the ones the army uses they use to protect the passes against the demons.”

“That’s right,” she said proudly.

No wonder NightShade was so massive. Mountain Heavy's had to contend  with snowdrifts in the winter, pull supply carts, and carry riders  wearing full armor. They were said to be as brave as a man in battle,  too. He’d read many histories of conflicts won or lost on the strength  of the kingdom's warhorses.

“You think this is big, you should see my dad’s mare. NightShade is young, but he’s all mine,” Gwen said.

NightShade raised his head from the grass and ambled over to Gwen as  if called. This put him within an arm's length of Corvus. He reached to  give the horse a quick pat, but his mind was on other places. He was  unprepared for the horse to bend and ruffle his hair with its nose.

Nervous, he ducked away. “What’s that for?”

“I think he likes you.” Gwen wrinkled her nose as if this offended her.

“Really?” Corvus straightened slightly and carefully reached out to  touch NightShade's neck. His black fur was softer than Merry-Roses's.  Almost downy.

“My dad said you can’t account for a horse’s taste,” Gwen said.

He would have been offended but then noticed she was smiling. He  glanced again to the pendant. “Gwen, could I have a look at your  necklace?”

Her smile dropped and she immediately covered the pendant with her hand. “Why?”

“Because…” He tried to think of a convincing lie, found none, and  decided to go with the truth. “I like learning about runes. That’s what  I’d rather be doing than swordplay: Learning about magic.”

“Like a hedge-witch?”

Another surprise like shock lit through him. "You know about hedge-witches?"

She shrugged. "Blight got 'em all, didn't it? That's why there's no more."

Blight? Was that why Solt seemed so nervous about runes? Was he worried Corvus would bring a plague into his house?

"I… wasn't aware there had been a blight," he said.

"You speak all proper, but you don't know a lot, do you?"

Now it was his turn to shrug. "I would still like to know about runes. They're interesting, is all."

Gwen clutched the silver pendant, watching him with solemn eyes. He  did his best to look harmless, interested but not too interested.

“All right,” she said at last, slowly, and slipped the chain over her  head. She held out the tear-drop shaped metal between two fingers. “But  this is mine. It’s special to me. If you try to take it, NightShade  will trample you.”

The horse snorted as if enforcing her words.

“I won’t steal it,” he said. “On my honor, I just want to look at the rune.”

He took a couple cautious steps forward. NightShade dug one hoof in  the dirt but made no move to attack. She let the pendant fall into the  cup of his hand, and he breathed a sigh of relief.

Then he brought it close to his eyes. It wasn't one rune. It was two circles, linked as if in a tight chain.

One rune had a sunburst in the center, the lines radiating out to the  edges. In the second, three different wave-shapes ran around the rim of  the circle. Here and there, the waves were broken by tiny solid lines  and a gap before.
And in the middle portion where the two were linked  was a sliver of space. Squeezed within was… a name? The script was so  minute it took him a moment to read it: Esmerelda Miller.

“Huh.” He squinted, trying to make out every detail to commit the  runes to memory. A check to his rune dictionary confirmed they did not  show up automatically. Likely, they would only appear once he used them  in a spell.

“I can read the name, but what do the runes say?” he asked.

“Say?”

“I once heard that every rune used to mean something.”

“It’s magic,” she said as if that explained everything.

He studied it for a few more moments, but there was nothing more he  could learn. Finally, he handed it back with a low bow. “Thank you.”

She giggled. “You really are one of the Old Solt's noble boys, aren't you?”

“I am,” he said. “You’ve met others?”

She wrinkled her nose. “Solt usually has one every season or so. Dad  says they’re a bunch of stuck up—” She stopped. “But you’re nice.  Younger than the others.”

“I am not stuck up!”

“You’re a little strange.” But he could tell he had her full  attention now. “If you’re a noble, you’ve seen real magic? What is that  like?”

For a moment, he couldn’t find an answer. Seeing real magic had been  like being stuck on the other side of a locked door, hearing a party  with people laughing and happy and knowing that he couldn’t pass through  to join them. Also… “It’s scary. The royals and high nobles just think a  wish, and it… happens.”

“Sounds fun.”

Not when you were on the receiving end, he thought, but did  not say. He settled for a shrug. “That’s why I want to figure out how  the hedge-witches used to do it." Another thought occurred to him. "Do  you know why they were called hedge-witches? Were there different types?  Were any hedge-wizards?”

Gwen shrugged. "That's just what everyone used to call them." She  looped her necklace back over he head and then looked down at the  pendant, thinking. “My brother has a rune fishhook. I got the pendant,  he got stuff for fishing.”

He started in place, excitement pushing aside the other questions. “Really? Do you think I could see it?”

She looked narrow-eyed at him again. “You’re really a noble?”

“Huh? Yeah, of course I am.”

“You don’t act like a noble.”

“What do nobles act like?”

“Well, for one they wouldn’t ask. They’d demand. And they’re mean. They expect everyone to be their personal servants.”

So basically, they acted like his father. Maybe Corvus would have  tried to be like that, but no one had listened to him. As far back as he  could remember being able to talk he had been playing peacemaker  between the servants and his demanding, temperamental mother. Just  because a servant was technically lower in status didn’t mean that they  couldn’t spit in your food if they didn’t like you. Or not patch up  clothing properly. The one time he’d made a mistake of pointing it out,  the servant got punished and replaced by someone who treated him worse.  So he had learned to get along with as many commoners as possible.

He couldn’t tell this common girl any of that, though.

He shrugged. “Maybe the high born don't intend to act stuck up, and…  um, I’m not a noble, anymore.” He was nothing except for what Solt could  make out of him… unless he hatched his dragon egg.

That’s why he needed magic.

Gwen still looked if she didn’t fully believe him, but something in his expression seemed to have swayed her. 

“We can ask my brother, but that is his prized fish hook. And you can’t tell no one that he was fishing in the lake,” she added.

“I won’t!” He made the sign of the vow, crossing his heart the same  way he’d seen servants do. Then a thought occurred to him. “Is he a  poacher?”

“No!” she snapped. “The law around here is stupid, everyone says so. Even the king himself can’t own the water.”

He can and he does, Corvus thought. And it’s not stupid  because the king’s money from water and property taxes goes to the  treasury which then is spent to protect our land against the demons  across the border.

Another thing he could not say aloud.

“I swear I won’t tell.”

Besides, if it was the king’s waters then he would be all right. Corvus used to be a prince, but that had to mean something.

“Even if Solt asks you?” she pressed.

“Solt won’t ask. He’ll be too busy giving me a beating for leaving.”

He meant it as a joke, but she only looked at him oddly. “You are a  weird noble. The last boy he hit howled like a stuck pig for days  afterward. My brother said it was only a love tap, too. And he deserved  it.”

Then she turned and with one easy movement, swung herself aboard  NightShade’s tall back. The horse didn’t so much as sidestep at the  sudden movement, only picked up its head from where it had been cropping  grass to look at her in askance. She patted its silky neck, and then to  Corvus’s utter surprise, she extended a hand down to him.
He took  it. He wasn’t nearly so graceful climbing up as her, but she was  stronger than she looked. She hauled him up so he sat behind her.

Upon the tall horse, he felt like he were master of the world.

He wondered if this was what it would be like to ride a dragon of his own.