“nina,” matthias said softly, “he’s just a kid. he’s one of us.”  one of us. a boy not much younger than she was, caught up in a war he hadn’t chosen for himself. a survivor. “what’s your name?” she asked. “kuwei.”

Wylan summoned every bit of bravado he’d learned from Nina, the will he’d learned from Matthias, the focus he’d studied in Kaz, the courage he’d learned from Inej, and the wild, reckless hope he’d learned from Jesper, the belief that no matter the odds, somehow they would win.

Nina said something to Kuwei in Shu. He shrugged and looked away, lip jutting out slightly. Whether it was the recent death of his father or the fact that he’d found himself stuck in a cemetery with a band of thieves, the boy had become increasingly sullen.