Legacy (Keeper of the Lost Cities #8) - Shannon Messenger Page 0,54

all the precautions that had been taken with his icy prison—Sophie was sure he was planning another dramatic escape.

But none of that mattered at the moment.

You really won’t tell me what Maruca’s ability is? she pressed, still running through a list of options in her head.

What if Maruca was another Mesmer, like Grady?

Or a Beguiler, like Councillor Alina?

Or—

Not right now, Wylie admitted.

Why not?

He took a small step away from her, staring at his hands as he fidgeted with the Endal crest securing his cape. Because I know what you’re going to say—and I won’t even blame you for it. But… we don’t NEED her ability. Or if we do, we could find someone else. I know it’s selfish, but… I don’t want Maruca taking the kinds of risks she’d have to take. I’ve already lost enough family.

Sophie’s heart splintered at his words.

Okay, she transmitted. I honestly have no idea if the Black Swan will listen to me about something like this—especially if Maruca’s super insistent about volunteering. But I’ll do everything I can to talk the Collective out of letting her join. And I can speak with Maruca, too, if you want. I don’t think she likes me that much, so maybe I can use that to make her not want to work with me or—

You can’t let her know I talked to you, Wylie interrupted. That’ll just make her more determined to join. She thinks I’m treating her like a little kid, but that’s not what it is. It’s…

I get it, Sophie said when his brain seemed to trip over the next words.

Wylie had watched his mom fade away right in front of him.

He’d spent more than a decade with his father locked away in Exile.

He’d been captured, interrogated, and tortured—and then got hurt again when he showed up with Dex to help Sophie and Fitz survive an ambush.

She couldn’t fault him for wanting to protect Maruca from those kinds of dangers. She’d tried to do the same thing with her friends—many times.

I’ll do my best, she promised again.

Wylie let out a breath. Thank you. And… thanks for not pushing me to tell you what her ability is—and for not stealing that info out of my memories. I know you could find it in, like, two seconds if you wanted.

I could, Sophie agreed. But… you’ll tell me when you’re ready—or Maruca will. Either way, it’s not worth damaging your trust.

He turned back to look at her. That’s why you’re going to make a great leader—and I don’t just mean of this team. I had my doubts about Project Moonlark for a long time. I think you know that better than anyone. But… even with everything that happened to my dad, I can still tell… the Black Swan really got it right with you.

Sophie glanced away, hoping he couldn’t see the way tears were welling in her eyes, or how hard she had to blink to keep them from spilling down her cheeks.

Hearing those words from anyone was amazing—but from Wylie? After how much he’d hated her when she first got to the Lost Cities?

Thank you, she transmitted, wondering how her mental voice could sound choked when she wasn’t actually using her throat. That really means a lot.

Yeah, well… that’s why you’re Lady Fos-Boss.

He winked as he said it, and Sophie clung to the tease, letting it rein her emotions back until they were much less sappy.

That’s NOT what you guys are going to call me, she told him.

Wylie grinned. Keep telling yourself that.

“Uh, is there something you two wanna share with the rest of the team?” Stina asked, her voice jarringly loud after all the whispering and transmitting.

Sophie glanced down, surprised to see Stina’s hand wrapped around her wrist.

She had no idea when that happened.

She also had no idea when they’d stopped walking.

Or how long everyone—including all twelve Councillors—had been watching her and Wylie.

But she hoped her red spotlight camouflaged her flushed cheeks.

“Just a trust exercise,” Wylie said smoothly. “To make sure we can work together, since Sophie and I have a complicated history.”

The Council looked mostly satisfied with the explanation.

Dex and Biana, not so much.

And Stina tightened her grip on Sophie’s wrist.

“Is this where we’re taking our oaths?” Sophie asked, yanking her arm free and turning to survey where they were standing, which was basically a dark dead end. She could see nothing but the faint outline of solid diamond walls and one small silver door that looked more gnome-height than elf-height.

“This is how we reach the place