“Actually… there is—but not with Linh.” He chewed his lip for a couple of seconds before he leaned in, his voice barely louder than a breath as he told her, “I need a favor.”
“Of course.” Sophie would forever be trying to make amends for all the devastating things that Wylie had endured because of her. “What do you need?”
He glanced at the Council. Then at Stina. “I’ll tell you later.”
“Sure.” She said nothing else out loud. But as he stepped away, she transmitted, Or we can talk telepathically, if you give me permission to open my mind to your thoughts.
Wylie was subtle with his nod, clearly not wanting the others to know they were still talking. And when Sophie stretched out her consciousness, his thoughts felt jittery—shuffling around her too fast, like a magician dealing cards for a trick. But she couldn’t blame him for trying to make sure she only saw what he wanted her to see. She would’ve done the same thing if the roles were reversed.
What’s going on? she asked.
More thoughts shifted—flickers of faces she didn’t recognize, until Wylie settled on one that she did.
I… need you to promise me that you won’t let Maruca join the Black Swan, he told her. I’ve been trying to talk her out of it—but I need some backup in case I can’t change her mind.
Sophie studied the smiling face that was now filling Wylie’s head. It was a younger version of Maruca than she remembered, with way less attitude in her expression. The blue streak was also missing from her hair, and she wore it natural texture—without a drop of makeup on her warm brown skin. Almost as if Wylie was trying to make Sophie see his second cousin as more of a little girl than she really was anymore.
Or maybe that was just how he saw her.
Why would Maruca want to swear fealty? Sophie had to ask. She didn’t know her very well—just that Maruca used to be Biana’s best friend, until they’d had a falling-out when Biana became friends with Sophie. But even after they’d patched things up, Maruca had never seemed the least bit interested in hanging out with them again—much less getting involved with all the dangerous stuff they did for the Black Swan.
Wylie explained as his mind tucked away the image of Maruca and replaced it with stomach-turning flashbacks from outside the troll hive at Everglen. She got all fired up after watching what happened to us during the Celestial Festival, and now she thinks we need all the help we can get—and I’m not saying we don’t. Why do you think I’m becoming a Regent? But I don’t want her caught up in any of this.
Sophie couldn’t blame him for that—just reliving his memories was enough to make her want to lock up every single person she cared about to keep them safe.
I already tried reminding her about what happened to my mom and dad—and what happened to me, Wylie added quietly. But she’s convinced that she can handle it—and that the danger shouldn’t matter anyway. And I’m sure she’s going to get way more insistent once she finds out that Stina’s part of this team—if she hasn’t reached out to the Collective already. So I need you to make sure that if she HAS reached out, her offer gets rejected. And if she hasn’t yet, then I need you to make sure that whenever she DOES try to join, the Collective tells her they’re not interested.
Okaaaaaay, Sophie transmitted slowly. I’m not asking this because I don’t want to help—I do. But… wouldn’t it be better to go to Tiergan for this favor? I mean, he’s actually PART of the Collective.
He’s only one vote out of five, Wylie corrected.
Yeah, but I’m ZERO votes, so…
But you’re the moonlark. They listen to you when you argue with them—way more than they listen to Tiergan. Plus, I’m pretty sure Tiergan would end up backing down. The Collective has this whole thing about putting the needs of our world above everything else. Look at the things they’ve had you do—how many times have they almost gotten you killed?
Well… but like you just said: I’m the moonlark. All this stuff is what they made me for, no matter how dangerous.
Okay, but they’ve let your friends take the same risks, haven’t they? His eyes shifted to Biana, his gaze tracing over the scars that Vespera had given her. If they see value in someone, that’s all that matters. Especially if that person has an important special ability.
He had a point—which was why it took her a second to catch what he was saying. Wait—has Maruca manifested?
Wylie’s thoughts scattered like frightened birds.
I’m guessing that’s a yes, Sophie noted. And that it’s something… pretty powerful.
He didn’t respond, which seemed to confirm her suspicion.
But what ability would it be?
Hydrokinetic?
Charger?
Phaser?
Shade?
Why would he be afraid to tell her any of those things? Unless…
Is she another Pyrokinetic? she asked. Because if she is, she’s going to need training—
It’s not pyrokinesis, Wylie promised. And I still think it’s a bad idea for Marella to be training with Fintan, by the way.
So did Sophie.
Despite Fintan’s claims that he simply wanted to save Marella from losing control of her flames—and 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.