Chapter 18

18

S ai?”

Something brushes gingerly against my cheek. Fingertips? No, softer than that. Perhaps a pair of lips?

My eyes are too heavy to open. The sand makes for a surprisingly comfortable bed. My weight sinks into it, the fine grains molding around my form to provide the softest of cocoons. I’m tempted to remain here a while longer, but—

“Sai!”

Jyn raps two knuckles hard against my forehead. The sting jolts me awake, my hand flying to my head.

“What was that for?” I demand, suddenly awake and alert.

“It’s nightfall,” she says flatly, already shifting about to throw off my tunic-turned-shelter. “We’re running low on water. We must find more as soon as possible, else you won’t last three days without it.”

Sand fills my mouth as we rise to our feet together. The air is significantly cooler, the gentle breeze a welcome reprieve. The moon is big and full, a bright silver disk illuminating the inky-black skies above. I gawk at the grand expanse of stars, bewitched by their dazzling beauty. It’s a canvas of blinking lightning bugs, arranged in swirling patterns more intricate than the finest tapestries in all the Five Kingdoms.

“I’ve never seen this many before,” I whisper to myself.

Jyn regards me with a barely perceptible smile. The sight of it nearly sends me flying. Oh, how I yearn for more.

“Have you been taught to use them for direction?” she asks.

“I can’t say that I have.”

She gracefully lifts a finger to point at the sky, drawing the outlines of constellations. “This one here,” she says, “is the Black Tortoise, Xuan Wu. You can just make out the shape of the snake who rides on his back. He will point you north. And over there is the White Tiger, Baihu. Follow him, should you wish to go west.”

“And that cluster there?” I ask, trying my best to visualize the shapes.

“That is the Red Bird, Zhu Que. Use her to guide yourself south.”

“And what of that one?” I say, curiosity bubbling beneath the surface of my skin. I adore listening to Jyn speak. As a child, I was never considered a good student, too easily distracted to pay attention during the schoolmaster’s lessons. And yet when Jyn instructs me, I hang on her every word, soothed by the soft lilt of her voice, which resonates deep within me.

Jyn pauses, looking at the final cluster of stars. “That is the Great Dragon, Qing Long,” she answers slowly. “Follow him to go east.”

“Are they true, the old stories? They say dragons were once born on the easternmost islands.”

“Where did you hear such things?”

“My mother, I suppose. I always had trouble sleeping as a boy. Too hyper an imagination. She told me all manner of stories to help me doze off.”

Her lips press into a thin line, her jaw tensing. “There’s some truth in fiction, I suppose.”

“Is that where you’re from? The east?”

Jyn nods slowly. “Yes, but I left a very long time ago.”

“And Qing Long, the azure dragon of old… Was he real?”

“My great-great-grandfather.”

My eyes widen in delighted surprise. “Really? How did he end up in the stars?”

Jyn shakes her head. “It’s said that he wanted to see how high he could fly… and got stuck there.”

“Oh, that.” Laughter rises out of me. No matter how hard I try to swallow it down, it bursts forth with twice as much force. “How terrible .”

Miraculously, Jyn begins to giggle too. It’s a quiet sound, but marvelous all the same. The corners of her eyes crinkle as she smiles, and I can’t help but stare at her bashful delight. So sweet, so joyful. Eventually, though, her hard mask slips back into place, the sound of her laughter ceases.

“Come,” she says, serious as ever. “Let’s not waste moonlight.”

“Lead the way, my lady.”

Traveling across the sand dunes at night proves an ingenious decision on my part, if I do say so myself. It’s far easier to traverse the Western Wastelands this way; without the sun baking us from the outside in, Jyn and I are able to keep a good pace.

Every now and then, I see her tongue flick out. It’s a discreet movement, very much a quick lick of her lips, but I notice it all the same.

“This way,” she says. “There’s a small body of water nearby.”

“How can you tell?” I ask.

“I can smell it.”

“With your tongue ?” I back away with a grin when she shoots me an irritated glare. “I’m only curious. Can you fault me for wanting to know more about you?”

“Yes,” she grumbles, continuing forward with a sharp huff. Her long braid swings back and forth as she walks, silky locks pulled up high and secured with an ornate silver pin.

It appears to be the only extravagance on her person. I study it with great interest as we walk, the craftsmanship of the pin unlike anything I have ever seen. Flowers are carved into it, bits of silver expertly twisted to resemble delicate petals. No gems, but I think that fitting. Anything more would clash with her natural elegance. The longer I stare at it, the more fascinated I become. For some reason, I can’t shake the feeling that I’ve seen it somewhere before.

A vision flashes before my eyes.

I’m surrounded by a lush bamboo forest, sunlight filtering in through the light green leaves. A woman sits before me, and I’m combing my fingers through her long black hair. I’m the one who sets the pin in place, carefully weaving braids in her hair as the noonday sun climbs higher. She turns, and although the details of her face are out of focus, there’s no denying that brilliant smile.

A gift for you, my love.

I will treasure it forever.

It’s all real, and yet it’s not. Am I dreaming this somehow?

“Sai?”

The sound of Jyn’s voice snaps me out of my trance. She’s a few paces ahead of me now, looking back with a furrowed brow.

“Apologies,” I murmur, quick to catch up. “I was lost in—”

The loud, grating sound of a bird’s screech interrupts us.

At first, I ignore it. Surely it’s just a desert scavenger flying overhead. But then the screeching grows louder and louder, punctuated by the sharp beats of many pairs of wings. Alarmed, Jyn and I both turn and look up at the sky, now blackened with an incoming swarm.

A murder of crows, numbering in the thousands. Their bloodred eyes are trained on us, the sharp talons of their three feet poised to claw and stab. This is Emperor Róng’s doing; of that I have no doubt. They have spotted us, several crows diving down to begin their assault. One of the creatures slices me across the cheek with its razor-sharp feathers: a warning.

Jyn grabs my hand.

“Run!”

No matter how hard we sprint, we can’t escape the crows. The cacophony of screeches rattles my eardrums, surrounded by the red-eyed swarm. The sand is too soft, our efforts to flee useless. There’s no hope for us, buffeted by the beating of wings, the pecking of sharp beaks, and the piercings of unforgiving talons.

It’s a nightmare, one I can’t wake myself from. The harder I fight, the more resistance I meet. The faster I run, the hotter my muscles blaze. The tighter I try to hold on to Jyn, the faster these damned beasts tear her away. The emperor’s crows have us trapped in the center of their murder, the air growing thicker and harder to breathe with every passing second. They mean to suffocate us into submission.

A crow nearly pecks out one of my eyes, the sting of its beak scraping my bottom eyelid radiating a thousandfold within my skull. I lose my grasp on Jyn’s hand, and her fingers slip from mine.

“No!” I choke.

Panic shreds through me. I have to get to her. I have to. And yet the harder I struggle, the more helpless I become. No matter what method I try, I can’t reach Jyn. The birds have separated us, dragging her away and out of my line of sight. I can see nothing past the blood in my eyes, nor hear my own cries over the chaos.

A sudden shift overcomes me. My panic transforms into an all-out rage, their relentless attack causing my blood to boil over. I have felt this anger before, a force that threatens to explode from deep within my core. All I see is scarlet red.

And then I lash out, driven by a sudden, unexpected thirst for blood.

A crow drives its talons into my shoulder, the piercing of my flesh the catalyst I need to lose control of my other senses. With a swiftness I didn’t know I possessed, I reach out and throttle the bird by the throat, yanking it free of my shoulder. There’s no time to think, only to kill.

I surprise myself when I bite the damned beast’s head clean off. The metallic tang of its blood gushes into my mouth. I spit it out, thoroughly appalled. Confusion storms within me. What’s happening? What are we going to—

My thread suddenly tugs upward.

Jyn has taken to the skies.

With a mighty roar that shakes the earth around me, the emperor’s crows disperse. They fly straight up, following the fierce dragon into the clouds above. She’s a streak of emerald, twisting and looping in an attempt to shake them off. The three-legged beasts have all but abandoned me in pursuit of their true target.

Jyn shows them no mercy, snapping at them with her powerful jaws and frighteningly sharp teeth. They tear into her with just as much ferocity, ripping away scales and clawing at her mane until every other inch of her body is covered in wounds and exposed flesh.

All I can do is stare up at the violence, grounded and completely helpless to stop the madness.

The dragon roars again, this time plummeting hard and fast toward the sand below. Jyn is wounded, unable to keep up the fight. She falls and falls and falls. Just as she’s about to crash—

She instantly changes direction, swooping horizontal mere feet from the sand.

The crows who were in pursuit are unable to change direction in time and smash into the sand all at once, their bodies bursting upon impact. Their blood soaks into the desert, feathers scattered about, carcasses lying broken in the middle of the wasteland. The heat will expedite the rot. My dragon manages to fly toward me, only to transform midair, Jyn’s limp body falling at an alarming speed.

My body reacts before my mind does, my feet carrying me to her as quickly as they’re able. It’s the furthest thing from a graceful landing. I manage to catch her, but her momentum knocks me back. I sit up and anxiously check her injuries. Jyn’s eyes are closed, her breathing shallow. Blood drips down from her face, her arms, her legs. It stains her clothes, the scent of iron weighing heavily in the air.

“Jyn?” I rasp. My hands shake. I’m horrified at the harm they’ve inflicted.

She doesn’t stir.

I don’t know why I look around for help, but I do anyway. Desperation twists at my heart. She’s barely breathing. Surely there must be something I can do to help her. We’ve only crossed half of the Western Wasteland, but it’s clear Jyn is far too injured now to walk.

Only three options present themselves: we head back and risk capture by the emperor, we stay here and die from thirst, or we go forth toward the Moonstar Isles and pray we find a doctor or someone who knows how to heal her.

I gingerly brush her hair away from her face. “Everything will be all right, Jyn. I promise. Please, just hold on.”

Carefully, I lift Jyn and carry her on my back. I trudge forward despite the blunt ache in my eye and the spasms of my body. It has become abundantly clear that I’m no fighter, nor am I a healer. I may not be strong like a dragon, but I can try to be as brave as one.

One step at a time, I march forward. Determination courses through my veins.

Jyn carried me to safety once.

Now I will do the same for her.

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