I decide to forge on; perhaps I can pester a response out of her. “I sensed you for the first time when I crossed the mountain border. Did you sense me, too?”
I receive no response.
“Well, I’m grateful you came to my rescue. I would be dead otherwise.”
Jyn rises to her feet and makes her way silently to the fire pit. She gathers dried leaves and grass from a nearby basket to use as kindling, expertly piling it high before producing a piece of flint and a striker.
I get up, too, watching her from a few paces away with my hands tucked respectfully behind my back. “A little warm for a fire, is it not?”
“It gets cold at night in the desert,” she mutters, annoyed.
“Do dragons suffer from the cold?” I ask, thrilled to finally hear her voice after so many hours. “And what is it that they eat? How do you spend your days? Do you take on your human form often?”
Jyn glares at me. “The fire is for you. Anything. I enjoy sleeping. Yes, it’s easier to hide that way. Now, kindly cease your jabbering so that I may work.”
I sit back down on the other side of the fire pit as the first few flames flicker to life. “Interesting.”
Her pretty green eyes glance up at me. “What is?”
“Do you not breathe fire?” I lean back on my hands. “I was told dragons breathed fire.”
“What idiotic trout told you that?”
“The traveling merchants,” I say. “When I was a little boy, they filled my head with stories. One told me that in the lands past the Moonstar Isles, well into uncharted territory, dragons have massive wings and breathe fire from their gullets.”
Jyn snorts. “That sounds awfully painful.”
“I’ll take that as a no, then?”
“I have no need for anything so destructive,” she mumbles quietly, her gaze far off and her mind seemingly somewhere distant. “I have seen more than my fair share.”
“What was that?” I ask, straining to listen. “You always speak so quietly.”
Jyn turns. “Perhaps you have shit hearing.”
I pick at my fingernails, growing more and more unsure of our bond with every passing minute. Why does she dislike me? What must I do to get her totalkto me? In this moment, all I really want is to make her laugh, to ease whatever burden she’s carrying. Cracking jokes always worked with A-Ma; maybe it can help with Jyn’s mood, too.
“What can you put in a bucket to make it weigh less?” I ask her lightly.
“A hole,” she answers without missing a beat.
“You’ve heard that one before, I take it?”
“No.” She doesn’t sound amused in the slightest.
“How about—”
Jyn shoots me a hard glare. I shut up immediately. So much for that plan.
My attention gradually shifts to the crates piled high beneath the overhang. Curious, I hop to my feet and mosey over, fascinatedby the black markings painted on the sides. It’s a foreign language, one that I have never seen before. One of the crates at the very top is open, revealing small white linen sacks. I pick one up, my nose immediately greeted with a familiar scent.
Tea.
“Longjing tea,” I say with a light chuckle. “Also known as Dragon Well.”
“What of it?”
“Did I mention I own a teahouse?” I continue, breathing in the lovely sweet scent of the dried leaves. “It’s a humble establishment, but I brew an excellent pot. This is a favorite among our customers. Or rather, was, back when they came in droves. Business has been dwindling as of late. I suspect it’s because of the war. No sense in spending coin on frivolous things, though I would argue tea is a necessity. A way of life, even.”
