It was always a draw.
He had changed over the summer, and now Blue felt less unequal in the group. Not because she knew Ronan any better — but because she felt as if maybe Gansey and Adam now knew him less. He challenged them all to learn him again.
Gansey pushed himself up onto his elbows; petals tumbled from him as if he had been awoken from a long sleep. “Okay. I think it’s time. Lynch?”
Rising, Ronan went to stand starkly beside his mother and brother; Matthew, who had been waving his arms like a performing bear, stilled. Aurora petted Ronan’s hand, which Ronan permitted.
“Up,” he said to Matthew. “Time to go.”
Aurora smiled gently at her sons. She would stay here, in Cabeswater, doing whatever dreams did when no one was there to see them. It was unsurprising to Blue that she would fall into an instant sleep if she left the forest; it was impossible to imagine Aurora existing in the real world. More impossible still to imagine growing up with a mother like her.
My mother wouldn’t just leave forever. Right?
Ronan put his hands on either side of Matthew’s head, crushing the blond curls down, locking his brother’s gaze on his.
“Go wait in the car,” he said. “If we aren’t back by nine, call Blue’s house.”
Matthew’s expression was pleasant and unafraid. His eyes were the same color blue as Ronan’s but infinitely more innocent. “How will I know the number?”
Ronan continued to clasp his brother’s head. “Matthew. Focus. We talked about this. I want you to think. You tell me: How will you know the number?”
His younger brother laughed a little and patted his pocket. “Oh, right. It’s programmed in your phone. I remember now.”
“I’ll stay with him,” Noah offered at once.
“Chicken,” said Ronan ungratefully.
“Lynch,” said Gansey. “That’s a good idea, Noah, if you’re feeling up for it.”
Noah, as a ghost, required outside energy to stay visible. Both Blue and the ley line were powerful spiritual batteries; waiting in the car parked nearby should have been more than enough. But sometimes it wasn’t the energy that failed Noah — it was his courage.
“He’ll be a champ,” Blue said, punching Noah’s arm lightly.
“I’ll be a champ,” repeated Noah.
The forest waited, listening, rustling. The edge of the sky was grayer than the blue directly overhead, like Cabeswater’s attention was so tightly focused on them that the real world was now able to intrude.
At the cave mouth, Gansey said, “De fumo in flammam.”
“From the smoke into the fire,” Adam translated for Blue.
The cave. The cave.
Everything in Cabeswater was magical, but the cave was unusual because it hadn’t existed when they had first discovered the forest. Or maybe it had existed, but in a different place.
Gansey said, “Equipment check.”
Blue dumped out the contents of her ragged backpack. A helmet (bicycle, used), knee pads (roller skating, used), and flashlight (miniature, used) rolled out, along with a pink switchblade. As she began to apply all of these things to her body, Gansey emptied his messenger bag beside her. His contained a helmet (caving, used), knee pads (caving, used), and a flashlight (Maglite, used), along with several lengths of new rope, a harness, and a selection of bolt anchors and metal carabiners.
Both Blue and Adam stared at the used equipment. It seemed impossible that Richard Campbell Gansey III would have thought to buy anything less than brand-new.
Unaware of their attention, Gansey effortlessly tied a carabiner to a rope by way of an accomplished knot.
Blue got it a moment before Adam did. The equipment was used because Gansey had used it.
It was hard to remember, sometimes, that he’d lived a life before they’d met him.
Gansey began to unwind a longer safety cable. “What we talked about. We’re tied together, three tugs if you are alarmed in the slightest. Time check?”
Adam checked his battered watch. “My watch isn’t working.”
Ronan checked his expensive black one and shook his head.
Although this was not unexpected, Blue was still disconcerted, a kite cut free.
Gansey frowned as if he shared her thoughts. “Nor is my phone. Okay, Ronan.”
As Ronan shouted some Latin into the air, Adam whispered the translation to Blue: “Is it safe for us to go in?”
And is my mother still in there?
The reply came in the form of hissing leaves and guttural scraping, wilder than the voices Blue had heard earlier. “Greywaren semper est incorruptus.”
“Always safe,” Gansey translated quickly, eager to prove that he wasn’t entirely useless when it came to Latin. “The Greywaren is always safe.”
The Greywaren was Ronan. Whatever they were to this forest, Ronan was more to it.
Adam mused, “Incorruptus. I never thought anyone would use that word to describe Lynch.”
Ronan looked as pleased as a pit viper ever could.
What do you want from us? Blue wondered as they stepped inside. How do you see us? Just four teens sneaking into an ancient forest.
An oddly quiet earth-room lay just inside the cave entrance. The walls were dust and rock, roots and chalk, everything the color of Adam’s hair and skin. Blue touched a reluctantly curled fern, the last foliage before the sunlight faded. Adam turned his head, listening, but there was only the muffled, ordinary sound of their footsteps.
Gansey turned on his headlamp. It barely penetrated the darkness of the narrowing tunnel.
One of the boys was shivering a little. Blue didn’t know if it was Adam or Ronan, but she felt the cable trembling at her belt.
“I wish we’d brought Noah after all,” Gansey said abruptly. “In we go. Ronan, don’t forget to set the directional markers as we go. We’re counting on you. Don’t just stare at me. Nod like you understand. Good. You know what? Give them to Jane.”
“What?” Ronan sounded betrayed.
Blue accepted the markers — round, plastic disks with arrows drawn on them. She hadn’t realized how nervous she was until she had them in her hands; it felt good to have something concrete to do.
“I want you to whistle or hum or sing, Ronan, and keep track of time,” Gansey said.
“You have got to be shitting me,” Ronan replied. “Me.”
Gansey peered down the tunnel. “I know you know a lot of songs all the way through, and can do them the same speed and length every time. Because you had to memorize all of those tunes for the Irish music competitions.”