Legacy (Keeper of the Lost Cities #8) - Shannon Messenger Page 0,134

words rippled like waves. I think better when I let the pull of the water fill my mind, if that makes sense.

Not really, Sophie admitted. But I’m not a Hydrokinetic. And it IS easier to focus this way.

With the rest of the world muffled, she could feel each of her thoughts individually, stretching them into threads, which she used to tether Linh’s mind to hers.

We’ll see if that holds, Sophie transmitted, letting her mental energy pool between the two of them, the warm hum growing stronger and stronger and stronger. If it does, you and Tam should be able to hear each other—assuming I can make contact.

Thank you for doing this, Linh told her.

You don’t have to thank me I’ll do anything I can to help you and your brother—I hope you know that.

I do. And I want you to know that this is my choice—what you’re doing right now, and what I’m asking you to do if this works. If any part of this backfires, I won’t blame you.

Let’s hope we won’t have to think about that, Sophie transmitted, squeezing her eyes tighter as the humming inside her mind turned crackly, like static—or maybe a better analogy would’ve been like a wave crashing toward the shore. She could feel her consciousness get swept up in the inertia, surging forward, forward, forward…

Brace yourself! she warned. This next part will be loud.

Linh nodded under her fingertips, and they both sucked in a breath as Sophie shoved the energy out of her mind in a blaring transmission.

TAM! PLEASE DON’T IGNORE ME!

PLEASE!

PLEASE!

PLEASE!

She repeated the call again and again, each transmission like a mental river, carrying her plea along with the rush, churning farther, farther, farther. But no matter how far the words flowed, only silence followed.

Do you think it would help if I call for him? Linh offered.

He won’t be able to hear you until he lets me connect with his mind. Unless…

Unless what? Linh asked when Sophie didn’t finish the thought.

I have a weird idea—and I don’t know if it’ll work, but… can you think his name for a minute? Just his name—and give it your whole concentration, like it’s the only solid thing in your head.

Linh did as Sophie asked, and Sophie gathered up the sound, wrapping her consciousness around it until it felt like she’d formed an airtight bundle, with Linh’s voice echoing softly inside.

A thought bubble of sorts.

Here goes nothing, she told Linh, letting her strange mental creation drift out of her mind, like a message in a bottle, floating through the space between her and Tam, drifting across the vast nothingness.

CAN YOU HEAR WHO I’M WITH? she transmitted, shoving Linh’s plea farther and farther. LINH NEEDS TO TALK TO YOU. IT’S IMPORTANT.

More silence surrounded them, and Linh’s disappointment was almost tangible as Sophie tried to edge her consciousness away from the headache looming ahead—a mental waterfall that would drag them both down into the pain if she didn’t sever their connection before she reached it.

PLEASE, TAM—TAKE THE RISK.

TAM!

TAM!

TAM!

TAM!

TA—

A shadow darkened Sophie’s mind—the rush both icy and eerie.

Linh gripped Sophie’s wrists. Tam?

DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA HOW DANGEROUS THIS IS??? Tam shouted.

The words were cold black stones.

Sinking through Sophie’s consciousness.

Crashing into the darkness lingering below.

But Sophie focused on Linh’s laughter, refusing to let the echoes stir.

It’s nice to hear from you, too, Linh told her brother. Good to know you’re still as stubborn and surly as ever.

Tam’s thoughts seemed to stumble over themselves—stunned by the sound of his sister’s voice.

But he recovered quickly, his consciousness tangling into another dark storm that battered around their shared minds as he thought, SERIOUSLY, LINH—WE CAN’T TALK LIKE THIS! YOU DON’T KNOW WHAT YOU’RE DOING.

Actually, I do, she assured him. I know it’s a risk. But I had to talk to you—and I need you to listen carefully. I need you to tell me if it’s safe to swim in the ocean.

THE OCEAN? Tam repeated—though Sophie could feel his thoughts swarming around each of Linh’s words, beyond just those few. And several seconds later he asked—very carefully—HOW WOULD I KNOW?

Linh sat up straighter. Can’t you dip your toe in for me?

The words hung there, and Sophie held her breath—feeling Linh do the same.

And for a moment, the cold shadows turned warmer and lighter.

But the blackness came crashing back before Tam finally answered. And he simply told her, NO.

Tam, you—

NO! Tam’s shout was louder than thunder, and it drowned out every syllable of Linh’s argument. STAY OUT OF THE WATER.

I can’t, she told him.