The Last Dragon of the East

Chapter 22

22

I ’m starving by the time I wake the next morning. At least, I assume it’s the next morning. Without sunlight, it’s impossible to keep track of time. Jyn is already up and about, her ankle and minor cuts miraculously healed. I, too, feel born anew. Wordlessly, we start down the never-ending stairs.

It’s difficult for me not to lament all the scrolls and books that pass us by. What untold stories remain hidden here? They call to me, and yet my cramping stomach calls louder still. If Jyn and I don’t escape this place quickly, I fear starvation may well be on the horizon. That, or cannibalism—though my preference is obviously the former.

Jyn takes the lead, remaining two paces ahead of me at all times. I would not describe her mood as foul, merely distant. Her defenses are impenetrable, a stone-cold wall. All my attempts to reach out over our connection are met with a stifling silence. Have I angered her in some way?

I’m about to ask when she stops abruptly.

“Do you hear that?” she asks, straining her neck to listen. “It sounds like—”

“—water,” I finish for her. The undeniable rush and hiss fills my ears. It’s close. “An underground river, perhaps?”

“Which means there might be a way out,” she says. “Come.”

We have only a few more flights of stairs to climb down. By the time we reach the ground floor, my knees are wobbling. When I look up, I can barely make out the top level of the library, the upper floors almost completely consumed by darkness.

The main entryway to the library has collapsed in on itself, the wooden beams having rotted away centuries ago. Coarse sand covers the lobby floor, and shredded remnants of old talismans are scattered about the waste. I pick one up and study the red markings on the thin strips of yellow parchment. Now that I look around, I see that the whole bottom floor is covered in them.

“This was how the monks harnessed enough magic to sink the place,” I say. “They must have been quite desperate to turn to shamanistic practices.”

She reaches out and takes the talisman from me, her expression hard. “They were.” Her tongue flicks out from the corner of her mouth before running along her bottom lip. “I smell fresh water. Moving fast.” She pushes on without me, squeezing past two large boulders blocking the exit.

“I don’t think I can fit through there.”

She sighs, her eyes flicking between me and the gap. I’m nowhere near as slender as she is, but I’ve come too far to be trapped for good. She crooks a finger, beckoning me over.

“Come on,” she says, and pushes one of the heavy rocks out of the way easily with one hand. I marvel at her inhuman strength. The tips of my ears heat up. I’m only slightly ashamed to admit that this arouses me. Anyone who doesn’t admire a strong woman is, in my humble opinion, a fool.

“Hurry up!” she snaps.

“Oh, right.”

I slip on through, joining Jyn on the other side. She carefully replaces the boulder in its original position, mindful not to disturb the rest of the structure. We now find ourselves in a large, open cavern, a tranquil underground pool before our feet. The water glows, bioluminescent. It flows so clearly that I can see straight through to the bottom. Unfortunately, there doesn’t appear to be an exit. Another dead end.

“Should we try elsewhere?” I ask.

Jyn shakes her head, holding up the scrap of talisman she took from me earlier. She walks to the water’s edge and sets the paper down on the surface of the pool, giving it a light push so that it floats to the center. I watch quietly as the paper moves, carried by an invisible current. It goes in circles until it’s finally dragged under and pulled through a crevasse in the cavern wall.

“That’s our way out,” Jyn explains, already slipping into the water.

“W-wait!”

She sighs, now thigh-deep. The glow of the water makes her look otherworldly, caught between twilight and this mortal plane. “What now?”

I exhale shakily. “I don’t know how to swim.”

“Another of your jests? Now isn’t the time, Sai.”

“I’m serious, my lady. I… I’m terribly afraid of the water.”

“Why?”

My cheeks heat with embarrassment. “When I was a little, I was playing too close to the river. I couldn’t have been more than five. My mother had warned me to be more careful, but I didn’t listen. I slipped in. Nearly drowned. Ever since, I’ve tried my best to avoid deep water.”

Jyn doesn’t laugh at my inability to swim, nor does she grow frustrated and angry. Instead, her expression is marred with something that almost looks like… guilt , though that makes no sense—I must be misreading things. After a moment, she simply nods and holds out her hand to me. The gray thread of fate between us goes taut, its middle gleaming with far more intensity than I’ve ever seen before.

“I understand,” she whispers. “But this is the only way out, Sai.”

“We have no way of knowing how long this underground river is. What if we don’t find air in time? What if the river only runs deeper underground?” My heart thuds frantically at the thought, my lungs preemptively beginning to burn. I would absolutely prefer to die of starvation than suffer a watery death. My palms are clammy, my skin covered in goose bumps. “Please, Jyn, is there no other way?”

“There isn’t,” she says firmly, but not unkindly. “Do you trust me?” she asks.

I swallow. Do I trust her? Though she may be my Fated One, she has done nothing but keep secrets from me. Jyn refuses to let me in, has told me so little of her past. Every time I attempt to bridge the gap between us, she pushes me away. The little progress I have made to get to know her hardly seems like progress at all.

My stomach churns. I know she’s right. This may be our best chance of escaping this forsaken place. I can’t count the number of times death has nearly claimed me this past week. At this point, I see no harm in tempting him again. Slowly, I reach out and take Jyn’s hand.

The water is distressingly cold, though that makes sense. The water runs deep underground, where the sun cannot bless it with warmth. Nevertheless, the sudden drop in temperature makes me shiver.

“Hold on to me,” Jyn says, placing my hands on her shoulders. “And whatever happens, do not let go. Do you understand?”

I nod before I have the chance to fully process her words. Within a matter of seconds, Jyn begins to shift. She’s no longer a woman, but my serpentine dragon, her long, winding body stretching out beneath me. I grasp onto her soft mane, careful not to pull too hard. She twists her long neck to look back at me, her elegant features a sight to behold. I love that the shade of her eyes is the same as that of her scales; the strength in her graceful movements; the power radiating off her from fangs to tail. Our gaze connects, and I can almost read her thoughts.

Prepare yourself. You can do this.

I take a deep breath, then another. I hold my third deep inhale, my chest full to bursting with as much air as I can carry.

We dive below the water’s surface.

She moves quickly, faster and more lithely than in her human form. Her magic buzzes over our bond, setting off an almost electric crackle across my skin. I hold on for dear life as she slams her body through the crevasse and breaks into the strong current of the underground river. It hits us unrepentantly, the sudden force of water sweeping past my body and nearly causing me to lose my grip.

It’s not a straight path, but a river with sharp bends and sudden dips. As fast as she may be, she struggles to keep us steady. The waters are rough and unforgiving, hurling us into the cave walls and dragging us along without remorse.

My lungs are searing hot.

I’m running out of air.

But I keep holding on, because this is the moment I realize I do trust Jyn. She will see us out of this. I cling tightly to this hope.

And then I see it. A distant light.

Jyn flicks her tail, surges forward with twice the effort.

We’re almost there now. We have almost made it—

The mouth of the river spits us out roughly, throwing us into a marshy oasis overgrown with weeds and teeming with biting bugs. I land on my side in the mud, hacking up mouthfuls of water as I draw in a fierce breath. The afternoon sun beats down on me. I didn’t think I would be so happy to once again know its unforgiving rays.

Jyn transforms back into a human and crawls up the riverbank. She breathes heavily and rushes over to check on me. “Are you all right?” she pants.

“Yes. Are you?”

Much to my relief, she nods. Without thinking, I wrap my arms around her in a tight hug. There’s a newfound ease here, the harshest of our recent challenges now over. It’s a miracle that we’re still alive, one I will not take for granted. I breathe her in. A jolt of excitement lances through me when I feel her, slowly but surely, embrace me back.

“Jyn…”

I stare deep into her eyes. This time, she doesn’t move away, as she normally would. Instead, she closes the gap between us and tenderly presses her lips to mine. It’s chaste and sweet, and in that moment, the rest of the world seems to disappear. It’s only once she pulls away that I see her face and note her bashful expression. Something tells me that this is the first kiss she’s had in centuries, maybe even millennia.

“Sorry,” she murmurs, a blush washing over her cheeks as she casts her eyes away. “I shouldn’t—”

“Jyn.”

“What?”

I lean in and kiss her again, thirsting for the sweetness of her lips and intoxicated by the soft moan that escapes her. I cup her cheeks in my palms as she grips my tunic tightly.

This feels so right . How have I managed to survive this long without her? Up until this moment, I’m not sure it can be said that I’ve ever truly lived. Every single one of my unanswered questions and doubts is erased with her kiss.

Why can I not shake this feeling that we have kissed countless times before?

Something is unlocked in the back of my mind as we embrace again, wrapped up in each other’s need with a growing intensity. Jagged pieces come together, memories that aren’t my own.

Sharp teeth and red scales that flare up in moments of anger. Three dragons. The story on the tapestry. Our red thread of fate. This inexplicable feeling of having known Jyn forever and always.

“Jyn?” I murmur, my forehead against hers.

“Yes?”

I pause. “In the old tale, there are three dragons: a red dragon, king of the skies; a green dragon, queen of the bamboo forests; and a blue dragon, prince of the sparkling seas.”

Jyn starts to pull away. “I told you, I don’t like this story.”

“You are the green dragon of legend,” I say slowly, watching her face for the barest hint of a reaction. My arms have gone slack around her waist. “And the blue dragon I keep seeing in my visions… He was your son?”

Her jaw grows stiff. “You’ve been having visions?”

I suck in a sharp breath. I might well be wrong, but if I’m correct…

Does she know who I am?

“The red dragon,” I whisper. “Are he and I one and the same?”

A darkness crosses her features, her eyes wide in conflicting horror and remorse. She opens her mouth to say something, only to shut it again. Jyn tries to get up and leave, but I take her hands and press them firmly to my chest. I let her feel my heart pulse against her palm, let her into my mind without resistance.

“Please, Jyn. Tell me the truth.”

“Sai, I—”

“Oh? What do we have here?” a stranger’s voice cuts in.

Jyn and I both look up to find a young man and woman walking through the unkempt grass of the oasis. They’re dressed in flowing white robes with charming light blue embroidery patterning around the hems. Strapped to the woman’s back is a young babe, fast asleep. The man has a large basket of fresh fruit in his arms. The couple is connected by a healthy red thread.

I’ll be the first to admit that it’s strange to meet such friendly, normal people after so long away from civilization. They immediately strike me as trustworthy, not a hint of magic or anything suspicious about them. I’m especially glad to see they all have their noses and don’t appear to hunger for human flesh.

“Are you lost?” the woman asks kindly.

I rise, then help Jyn to her feet. “Yes, we’ve been lost for quite some time. We’re trying to get to the Moonstar Isles.”

The man beams. “We can take you, if you’d like. We happen to live there. It’s a short trip across the channel by boat, but we should arrive by early evening.”

Jyn and I exchange a look. All it takes is a quick glance around to realize that we’re only a few li from the seaside. We have managed to make our way across the Western Wastelands—or rather, underneath them—in one piece. Barely.

“That would be wonderful,” I say with a relieved exhale.

“We’ve anchored our boat just over yonder,” he replies. “Would either of you like something to eat? You look like you could use some food. We have plenty to spare, and even more back at the village. I’m sure the elder will be happy to feed you.”

Jyn sighs. “Thank you very much.”

“My name is Chyou, by the way,” the woman says. “And this is my husband, Ming, and our daughter, Jia.”

“Sai,” I introduce myself. “And this is Jyn, my—”

“Travel companion,” she says hurriedly.

I force myself to stand straighter and ignore the pang of hurt in my chest. “Right. My travel companion.”

We follow Chyou and Ming toward a little wooden boat tied to a rickety old dock. The sands of the desert blend seamlessly with the sands of the beach, the divide practically indistinguishable between them.

The sea is calm, but my mind is a storm.

When we get to the Moonstar Isles, I will fight for an answer from Jyn. I must finally know the secrets she has been keeping, for my heart can’t bear this much longer.

Until then, I will focus on not falling out of the boat. I’ve had quite enough of the water.