Chương 49: Boating Squirt

Squirt had never liked boats. They were rickety and they rocked with the slightest provocation and were generally miserable to be on. The river barges? No. Just no. She'd rather the griffon that carried her from the Siabitch's clutches and dropped her in the Wylds of Everwinter took her again. The pain of being in it's talons for hours would be vastly preferrable. Heights she could handle. This? Not so much.

Qzi's eyes were a little too knowing as he waited next to her, both of them on their deer mounts and waiting to board. Mole danced under her, agitated by her nerves as she shifted restlessly in his saddle. The river barges for crossing were large, flat floating platforms.

The river water moved slowly here, south of the keep, so the ferrymen used large poles to slowly crawl their way across the water and a single, frayed guide rope that had been there for longer than Squirt had been alive— And this one didn't even have a damn guardrail —"Dismount!" She obeyed, her face a blank mask as she chastised herself for her fear. It was fine.

She'd just sit in the middle of the damn thing and wouldn't go near the damn water— The group began to board, and Squirt's knees trembled, her shoulders hunched as she tried to curl into herself while dutifully following along, gripping the reins of her steed until her knuckles turned white. It had rained that morning, so the top of the oversized raft was slippery enough that several other members of the company, and quite a few of the horses, slipped as they boarded.

More than a few of the horses reared or refused to board, the whites of their eyes visible in their fear. Squirt's own fears ratcheted up as she knew that she would be squished by their trampling hooves— Shadowy tendrils wrapped around her, and she heard the ghostly bay of Mole before she was pulled with force into shadow.

Blinded as she suffocated in the dark, she curled into a ball around her egg, one hand gripping the handle of a blade as she tried to remind herself it was just Zhadin— She burst through the other side, knees buckling as she fell to the ground. Sweet, solid ground. The shakes overtook her. In the distance, she heard familiar voices shouting out orders, and she looked up to see the barge in the far distance. On the other side of the river.

Then a figure leapt into the water, the already familiar horns glinting as Mole headed straight to her. There was an odd, nameless comfort to the act, knowing the creature was braving the waters for her even if it meant her saddle would be soaked. Anything was better than getting trampled to death on a gods damned boat. Zhadin floated to sit cross legged beside her, their too large eyes fixed on her face. Her voice hoarse from fear, she muttered, "Bet I look so fierce now." They nodded.

"Even in terror, one hand on your blade and ready to stab." She scowled. Still, after fighting with herself on it, she inclined her head in polite appreciation when a loud whoop across the river was followed by a splash and a shout of, "Don't leave without me, pricklebear!" Gods damned redcap. She checked on her egg, noting that it remained safe, secure, and faintly glowing, before she moved to stand, scanning the forest and willing strength into her trembling legs. She was in uncharted territory now.

Mole made it to the riverbank, stopping long enough to shake himself free of as much water from his fur as he could. Squirt pulled out her handkerchief to tie around her neck in case she needed it, then pulled her goggles into place around her eyes. Time to explore. She trotted silently off and blatantly ignored the jubilant redcap calling after her. Already, there were differences in the beasts of the forests. For one, there were no more blazing ants.

There were different kinds of mushrooms with different effects, though what they were, she didn't check. The dead birds around one colony were more than enough deterrent. She shot down a few feybeasts she'd not seen before, pinning them to trees or incapacitating them to allow herself a brief chance to study them before they died. Other feybeasts she left alone, instead pulling out her notebook and spending time observing their behaviors unseen as she was.

The two hunters kept a respectable distance as she gleefully documented the new beasts she had never seen before and investigated the local flora. They kept pace with the full party, being nimble enough to race forward or catch up as needed as opposed to the slow march of the knights and guards. By the time the camp was made and dinner was called, Squirt was in a much better mood. She deftly avoided discovery as she grabbed an available bowl for the stew that had been reheated over a fire.

Tomorrow the knights and guards would be reduced to rations, and she intended to enjoy the rich meal while she could. Besides, while she had the protection of the lord prince, it was clear that not everyone thought as highly of her as he did. The cook in particular had spat in her food the last two days, clearly the only bully technique he had left when she was constantly followed by an annoyingly persistent elk, redcap, and bull shifter.

Both times she'd caught the self-satisfied glint in his eyes, the slight smirk in his lopsided, giant ogre mouth as he handed her a bowl that didn't immediately look any different than those on the serving table. He thought he'd been sneaky about it. He hadn't. Successful in avoiding having to eat ogre slobber, Squirt finished her food quickly. She would have been unseen as she darted through camp to the lord's tent, only she was followed by the aforementioned very persistent elk, redcap, and bull shifter.

The elk, at least, she could command. She turned with a glare and said, "Rest. Graze. Stay." He pawed the ground and threw his head in challenge, but after a moment, wandered off to graze. She scowled at the grinning redcap and overly serious shifter. Turning and trotting to the entrance of the lord's tent, she bowed to the guard and said, "His lordship—" The woman just opened the tent flap for her, her eyes scanning the camp like it was normal for a greenling to call on the Lord Prince Commander himself.

She didn't even announce Squirt, just opened the tent and allowed her passage. This novel is published on a different platform. Support the original author by finding the official source. Squirt grumbled but obediently trotted in, noting that the flap was closed behind her with Qzi whining, "Oh, come on. That's my pricklebear in there!" before she stepped inside the tent proper. Inside, Lord Prince Ranin was glancing over boards filled with reports and gave her a nod.

"Ah, welcome, Mystva." Squirt barely resisted the urge to roll her eyes, though her brow twitched.

"I've got some information from my brother-by-mating on that egg of yours. We believe it to be a divine feybeast. It's absorbing your magic now, yes?" She stiffened and answered tightly, "Yes, my lord prince." He nodded.

"Very well. It will likely take some time to hatch—it's feeding off your magic now and won't hatch until it's had enough. Were there any markings or words that might give some idea as to what type of beast it was?"

"… yes, my lord prince. There was an epitaph with a riddle on it." More quietly to herself, she muttered darkly, "But I could only read some of it." His expression eager, he said, "You could read it?" She froze. Then very carefully said, "Only some." The Lord Prince Commander wasn't alone in the tent, after all. Anvanil was here, too, as was Cirn, the Captain of his Guard, his attendants, and two guards. Even worse, it wasn't warded for sound.

The only enchantments she could read off it were standard anti-rain and anti-fire woven into the fabric of the tent itself. Anyone outside of the tent could eavesdrop at any moment, and more importantly, she wouldn't know who could. Squirt shifted from foot to foot, her hands holding the sash close while her shoulders curled protectively around the egg. Unlike Lord Everwinter, the Lord Prince Commander had chairs and a table in his tent instead of just furs to sit on.

Had she not already been aware of his position as a mate to the Queen, the sheer quality of his tent would have made it obvious. The tent itself was fortified arachnae silk by the look of it. Strong, light, and based on the trace signatures she'd been able to sense, likely enchanted with dragon scales. The entire forest could go up in flames, but this tent would remain standing. And that was just the tent. The chairs were of equally high quality.

The type of wood was hidden underneath layers of paint in the colors of the Lord Prince Commander's colors—midnight blues and silvers—with accents drawn in golds, hand carved details of battles and religious imagery Squirt cared little for. Still, even though she could not tell what type of wood, it radiated with more magic than Squirt's entire body. From this distance, she couldn't tell what the magic was for, but she had some guesses.

So far, while the man had a definite flair fit for a fey of his station, he had more practicality than, say, the Siabitch. More than likely it was enchanted for things like auto-repair, auto-clean, and based on the quality of aura, likely a shield spell. It made her as uncomfortable as Lord Everwinter's furniture had made her comfortable. The lord prince lowered himself into a chair by the table as he studied her for several long minutes before he finally spoke again.

"I can swear to you now that I trust everyone here with my life." Squirt's eyes narrowed on the ground, not quite a glare, but close. She was aware, after all. He'd made that abundantly clear. He exhaled sharply, rapping his fingers rhythmically over his knee.

"… you can read Ancient Fey, can't you?" Squirt's hand inched towards the blade at her hip, unsure if she was ready to drop or flee or stab. When she answered, it was a tight whisper, a flash of fear in her eyes as she was forced to admit, "Yes." He nodded slowly.

"Only some?" She gritted her teeth. Unlike Lord Everwinter, clearly this lord was not above using societal etiquette to force her to answer. Without knowing who could hear, she couldn't risk anything other than absolute obedience to those laws.

"Yes."

"How did you learn?" Gods damn it all.

"I picked up on it here and there."

"How exactly did you learn?" Her skin started to go clammy, her face paling around the edges.

"I studied in secret." He studied her for a while before murmuring, "You don't trust me, do you?" Obviously.

"I wouldn't say that, my lord prince."

"You trust Bartos, though, don't you?" The question caught her off guard and she frowned, some of the terror and tension bleeding out somewhat.

"I…" What should she say here? Naturally she wanted to say she didn't, but… she did, didn't she? A strange look of triumph passed through his eyes before he raised his hand.

"That's enough of an answer for me." Then his hand fell again as he went back to studying her. Finally, he asked not her, but Anvanil, "How long did it take you to learn Ancient Fey?"

"I um… I'm not sure? I didn't study it continuously because it's only taught by Scholar Flaugnot, and his classes fill up quickly. Plus, with the Cataclysm, a lot of the ancient works were lost, so there aren't many materials to study in the Capital. All told? Probably… twenty years?" He nodded, his expression thoughtful, before he turned back to Squirt.

"How long did it take you?" Unsure of where he was going with this and confused by the general direction this conversation had gone, she answered warily, "That's… not easy to know, my lord Prince. Some I picked up through… self-study. Some I picked up by paying attention to the conversations of others. I am also hardly fluent."

"Would you like to be? I'm sure Anvanil can teach you." Stunned, her eyes slowly rose to stare at his own, utterly baffled by the offer. Anvanil coughed and awkwardly shifted in his seat, a blush on his cheeks as he said, "I… that is… I would certainly endeavor to do my best." Squirt's eyes remained fixed on the lord prince. He considered the gaze and nodded before he answered the silent question.

"Two reasons. Curiosity is the first. I've seen how quickly you read through a single book. You take notes so you don't have perfect recall, but clearly, your memory is very good." He was right about that.

"Second, I have a feeling you will encounter other dungeons in the future, and the better your Ancient Fey, the better you will know the exact words of any you encounter. The price would be to write to me and give me every detail." He crossed his arms and smirked smugly.

"I then use it as a bargaining chip to get one of my more annoying brothers-by-mating out of the way. He's happily distracted and I get uninterrupted alone time with my mate." His Captain of the Guard, a dwarven fellow from the southern hill lands, burst out with a single, loud, "Ha!" Then continued, "You would."

"He's grateful for the gift, she's grateful I'm treating him nicely, and I'm grateful that I don't have suffer him to enjoy my mate. It's the perfect scenario." From there, the conversation between them continued as they discussed the royals with shocking candor, him briefly pausing to gesture her towards the pink haired Anvanil with a, "Well? Go on then. You're both here, you might as well take this chance to start learning," before returning with, "Now where was I… right," to his previous conversation.

Squirt hesitantly started forward to stand before the shy young man with fluffy pink hair and burgundy eyes, and he gave her a soft smile with an apologetic, "I'll do my best, so please bear with me. I don't normally teach," before he slid to the ground next to her, pulling out a chalk slate and starting to write out a paragraph in Ancient Fey.

"I'll start by giving you some examples to see where you're at with it." He glanced up, pushing up the glasses that had slipped down his nose and blinking at the awed, tender expression the pixie gave the slate in his hands. Then she caught his gaze and pulled back into herself so quickly, it almost gave him whiplash, the tender expression replaced with a wary glare. Her eyes darted around the tent, waiting for someone, anyone to stop her. To jump out. Catch her in the act. No one did.

"Mystva? Are… you alright?" Her eyes returned to his and she nodded slowly, inching closer to peer down at the slate in his lap. Something in him relaxed a little at finally realizing Bartos was right—she was just as shy, if not shyer, than himself. She just showed it differently. With the way she glared and snapped at others, filled with angry fire and rage, he'd been intimidated enough to go to Bartos for advice before they left, scared she hated him.

But with that flash of tenderness just then, and that giggle she'd had at her mount, he'd realized she really was a kind, shy fey. Just a different type of shy. He relaxed more, focusing back on the slate as he sat with a little more confidence. Shy, he could work with. Shy, he could understand. He'd treat her the same way that others had made him feel comfortable. Patting the ground next to himself, he gave her an encouraging smile.

"Would you like to sit?" She gave him another wary look, slowly glancing around the room and wiping her palms on her pants again. Only once she had assured herself that no one was bothered did she slowly sink to her knees next to him, still angled and tense enough to jump away at a moment's notice. He kept his tone soothing and quiet as he handed her the slate and a different color of chalk that he conjured on the spot, faltering slightly when she glared at it before remembering his resolve.

He handed it to her and said, "Let's get started, shall we?" Three days later, Ranin pulled Anvanil aside and asked, "Well?" Anvanil blew out a breath.

"I almost can't keep up. She absorbs information as fast or faster than I can give it to her. I've started spending most of the ride during the day planning a one-hour lesson at night." Ranin nodded, scanning the camp as he murmured, "Thought so. She downplays it, but she's a certifiable genius." Anvanil gave his friend a shrug and shy smile.

"Yes, well… I could have told you that." Ranin clapped him on the shoulder.

"Yes, yes. Keep up the good work," before he walked away, more excited than ever to see what she came up with next.