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It was this: Blue’s arms around his neck, her face pressed against the side of his. She held him. She held him, like a shouted word,
LOVE! LOVE! LOVE!
His knees grow weak. His vision blurs. His heart, his ley-line gifted heart, the heart that Noah had been sacrificed for, the heart that
beats
beats
beats
beats in his ears. It slows. It slows.
All his life, he had wondered, nebulously, anxiously, why should
he
be alive? What made the universe choose him, what about him and his blue-blood, his red-ties, his charming words and his loneliness, the loneliness that had lingered in him for so long? Why did he get a second chance, when Noah died on the same line he was. What was it all for?
the world is fading.
Gansey thought that it was to find Glendower, that he’d been chosen to wake the Welsh King. That once he did, he would know why the privileged son of a privileged family, the boy who, until that moment with hornets in his ears, had never known true suffering, got to
—
impossibly
—
live a second life?
the world is fading.
The longing had ached, had festered, and
hurt
because Gansey had spent his entire second life
wanting
. The longing drove him to pour over books upon books of Welsh history. The longing had sent him travelling far, far from his family at age ten. He needed to know.
the world is fading.
And now he does. He was born again for this. To save his home, the home he loves, in the arms of the girl he loves, surrounded by the people he loves.
the world is fading.
Gansey is so, so, afraid.
the world is fading.
The world is gone.
He opens his eyes. He is walking.
“What’s your name?” says a familiar voice.
Gansey isn’t sure where he is. He needs to get to the church.
Why does he need to get to the church door?
He can feel the magnetic tug, the pull, and he knows that it’ll be unbearable if he doesn’t, somehow, inexplicably.
How?
“
Excuse
me, what is your name?”
He just needs to get to the church.
“I see him. Neeve, I
see
him.”
“Get his name. He won’t answer me, and I need to get others!”
“
Me
?”
There’s rustling, a voice. “What’s your name?”
(
his voice, on the recorder. it shouldn’t be there. he was silent all night. but impossibly, it is, and he can feel the excitement rising in him.
something.
it’s something, something magical, something impossible.
)
He needs to get to the church door.
Now, closer. “Who are you?”
His eyes snap open. He hadn’t realized he’d been walking with his eyes closed, but he had been.
Blue
.
Blue, with her lips pressed against his, Blue, dragging his body through the asphalt and onto the green grass, Blue, with her arms around his neck, Blue saying,
“I can’t think about that. I can’t really... think at all. It’s like I have a lampshade over my head. I keep waiting for
—
I don’t know.”
Gansey’s head drops into his hands.
No.
“Please,” Blue says softly. He feels a hand on his shoulder, so impossibly warm. He can feel the energy from her flooding into him. For the briefest of moments, he feels alive. It’s a fleeting feeling. He knows he’s dead.
(
gansey.
is that all?
that’s all there is.
)
He knows what he needs to do.
She asks, “Will you tell me your name?”
He turns to her. At once, he wants to memorize the image, the worried divot between her brows, her smooth skin, her hair clipped with a thousand pins to make a proper ponytail, her fingerless gloves. He needs to remember her, even in death. He needs to remember all of them.
Ronan, the dreamer. Adam, the magician. Noah, the ghost. Blue, the mirror.
His one true love.
“Gansey.”
His voice sounds far away. He is fading, he is fading, he is dying again. He wants to say a million things.
Tell Adam he’s going to do great things. Tell Ronan to dream me the world. Tell Noah I’ll see him soon. Tell them all I’m sorry. I love you, I love you, I love you all.
“Is that all?”
He closes his eyes. He’ll be gone soon.
“That’s all there is.”
blue, touching his face. she whispers: “wake up.”