“You don’t talk much, do you? Or is it because you don’t like me? I’ve been told I’m unlikable. That I’m pushy, selfish, and impetuous.” Jyx said this as if it were a point of pride. Mina wondered who had called Jyx all those things. She didn’t think it was anything to be proud of or happy about. “It’s okay,” Jyx said. “We don’t have to be friends.”

“I’d like to be,” Mina said quietly.

That seemed to startle Jyx.

“But please ask your storm beast never to call Pixit a chicken again.”

“Okay. I can do that.” Jyx was silent for a moment. “Done. And Chauda apologizes. She says she was only teasing, and she knows he doesn’t cluck or lay eggs.”

“Thank you,” Mina said.

“She does want to know why he’s mooing at her, though.”

Mina smiled. Pixit?

«Sorry. I’ll stop.»

“Do you really think we can be friends?” The way Jyx asked made Mina think she didn’t expect the answer to be yes. Her voice was small, like Beon’s when he asked for a treat he knew he shouldn’t have.

“Yes,” Mina said. She could say more—​that it would depend on whether Jyx was nice, whether she’d accept that Mina was never going to be chatty, and what she meant by “pushy” and “selfish”—​but she didn’t. “Who told you you were pushy?”

“My parents,” Jyx said. “They don’t like kids much. That’s why I never really had friends. Glad to have met you, though.”

“Me too.”

“I think we’re going to be best friends!” Jyx announced.

“Maybe we should make sure we like each other first?”

“Oh. Right. Okay.” Then Jyx grinned at her. “Hey, scaredy-cat, I’m sure I like you.”

Despite herself, Mina couldn’t help smiling back.

They sat side by side while the river ship sliced through the dark countryside. Mina was happy to see that Jyx was capable of being quiet. Not everyone was. And it was nice to sit next to someone who could possibly become a real friend. This is a good sign, Mina thought at Pixit. Maybe Pixit was right and she didn’t have to worry. Maybe her family was wrong about who she was meant to be. She tried to put as much confidence and enthusiasm into her mental voice as possible. I think we’re going to do well at the lightning school!

«Um, Mina?»

Sighing, Mina turned and dumped the jug of water on the small fire he’d started.

Chapter
Six

The letters had been seared into a brass plaque nailed to the river-ship station:

MYTRIS LIGHTNING SCHOOL