Chyou returns with the requested items, the goat’s milk sloshing about inside its cup. “What should I do next?” she asks.
“Mix the honey in with the milk, then soak the rag in the mixture,” Jyn instructs. She speaks with confidence and ease, as if she has done this a thousand times before. Once Chyou finishes the task, Jyn takes the cloth and brings the corner of the rag to the baby’s lips.
Miracle of miracles, the child latches on at once and begins to drink, too distracted by the sweet concoction to keep up her noise. Around us, the entire village seems to breathe a collective sigh of relief.
“Oh, thank the Gods!” Chyou gasps.
“I can finally hear my thoughts again,” I jest.
Jyn rolls her eyes. “This should tide her over for now, but don’t give it to her regularly. It should be reserved for the most difficult of fits.”
Chyou nods gratefully as she takes her daughter back. “How did you know this? Do you have children of your own?”
Jyn manages a nod, though her eyes are empty and tired. “Just one. He has… long since left me.”
The weight of those simple words crushes my chest, and I swear I feel my heart fracture in time with hers. I can’t just sit here any longer.
“Jyn and I were thinking of going for a walk,” I tell Chyou. “Will you be all right by yourself?”
Chyou waves me off with a grin. “Of course. Ming should be back soon. You two have done more than enough.”
I offer Jyn my hand. She takes it without question.
Together, we make our way back to our tents. There are so many questions brewing within me. I have no doubt that Jyn can feel my anticipation, because I sense a slight tug on our thread, almost as if she is trying to reel me in.
“Leaf Water!” Feng barks, marching over with a determined look in her eye. “I need to talk to ye.”
Gods, give me patience.
Jyn tosses me a wary look over her shoulder. I only nod in response. She goes on ahead while I remain behind. The more distance I can put between my dragon and Feng, the better.
“Still here, I see,” I say, crossing my arms over my chest. “I thought for sure you would have returned to the Southern Kingdom by now.”
She reflects my stance, crossing her arms—which I daresay are far more muscular than mine—and snorts. “Ye haven’t answered my questions.”
“I already told you, I remember nothing.”
“And why don’t I believe ye?”
“Because—no offense—you have a very distrusting nature.”
“It had ye in itsclaws,” Feng presses on. “Why didn’t it eat ye?”
I shrug. “Perhaps I smelled too ghastly.”
She squints at me, scrutinizing every inch of my face. “What aren’t ye telling me, Leaf Water?”
Unease bubbles right beneath my skin, my hands suddenly clammy and stiff. She’s a determined one, I’ll give her that, but Feng will have to work a hundred times harder to pry the truth from me. I can’t andwon’texpose Jyn. Even if I tell her the truth, that me and Jyn are a fated pair, I doubt Feng can be swayed to give up her hunt.
“Ye were on the brink of death when it carried ye away,” she says firmly. “An easy meal.”
I grind my teeth so hard, my molars squeak against one another inside my skull. “It sounds as though youwantedto see me eaten, huntress.”
“Not that. It’s just the more plausible answer.”
“It must have dropped me. I have nothing more to say on the matter.”
“How’d ye survive such a fall?” Feng leans in close, her brows knitted into a deep frown. “Those soldiers beat ye to a pulp. I heard yer bones break.”
