Blue Lily, Lily Blue (The Raven Cycle, #3)

by Maggie Stiefvater

From this angle, she looked exactly like her mother, compact and athletic and hard to tip over. She was weirdly lovely, even though she had unevenly clipped her dark hair all over her head and wore a shirt she’d attacked with a rototiller. Or perhaps because of these things. When had she gotten so pretty and so grown-up? Without getting any taller? This was probably what happened to girls when they lived on only yogurt.

If everything around Gansey was soft-edged and organic, faded and homogenous, Ronan was sharp and dark and dissonant, standing out in stark relief from the woods.

Blue didn’t know if she was supposed to be consumed by worry or anger. She vacillated wildly between the two, occasionally burning herself out and feeling nothing at all.

Another dropped onto the back of her hand, slipping down her wrist like a kiss. Gansey’s eyes opened as petals landed lightly on his cheeks. As his lips parted, ever-wondering, a petal landed directly on his mouth.

Ronan put his hands on either side of Matthew’s head, crushing the blond curls down, locking his brother’s gaze on his.

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.

And today was not the day that Gansey was going to die, because she had seen his spirit on the day he died, and that spirit had been wearing an Aglionby sweater spattered with rain. Not a pair of khakis and a cheery yellow V-neck.

“Well, you’re making me angry,” Blue said. “Adam is lying on his face in the mud for you. Ronan’s going home.” Gansey laughed tonelessly. “Keep talking, Jane.” “I don’t want to. I want you to just grab that rope and pull yourself up here like I know you’re perfectly capable of. What good does me talking do?”

He looked up at her then, his face streaked and unrecognizable. “It’s just that there’s something rustling down below me, and your voice drowns it out.”

Ronan kept going, his voice louder. “No. Do you hear me, Cabeswater? You promised to keep me safe. Who are we to you? Nothing? If you let him die, that is not keeping me safe. Do you understand? If they die, I die, too.” Now Blue could hear the humming sound from the pit, too. Adam spoke up, voice half-muffled from the mud. “I made a deal with you, Cabeswater. I’m your hands and your eyes. What do you think I’ll see if he dies?”

Out loud, she said, “We’ve been making the ley line stronger. We have been making you stronger. And we’ll keep helping you, but you’ve got to help us —”

It was a moment that would have been both easier and worse if he’d been with Gansey, Ronan, and Blue.

“Thanks for the super helpful alternative suggestions, Ronan Lynch. Your contribution at the end of the world will be tallied accordingly,” Blue said.

Icon

In the rearview mirror, he caught Blue’s eyes by accident. Strangely enough, he saw his own thoughts reflected in her face: excitement and consternation. Casually, out of view of Ronan, making sure Adam was still sleeping, Gansey dangled his hand between the driver’s seat and the door. Palm up, fingers stretched back to Blue. This was not allowed.

Blue touched his fingertips. Just this — He pinched her fingers lightly, just for a moment, and then he withdrew his hand and put it back on the wheel. His chest felt warm. This was not allowed. Ronan had not seen; Adam was still sleeping. The only casualty was his pulse.

Then she called Gansey. It rang twice, three times, and then: “Hello?” He sounded boyish and ordinary. Blue asked, “Did I wake you up?” She heard Gansey fumble for and scrape up his wireframes. “No,” he lied, “I was awake.”

“I’ve learned a lot. I’m glad you misdialed.” “Well. Easy mistake to make,” she said. “Might do it again.” A very, very long pause. She opened her mouth to fill it, then changed her mind and didn’t. She was shivering again, even though she wasn’t cold with the pillow on her legs. “Shouldn’t,” Gansey said finally. “But I hope you do.”

Adam continued, “That thing with Blue. I should’ve known it would be weird trying to date her once she was one of … you know, with us all. Whatever.” Gansey thought of his fingers on Blue’s and how foolish such a gesture had been. This equilibrium was so hard-won.

She was untouchably hilarious, she was a friendless bitch.

Gansey caught sight of Blue then, and he rewarded her with his best smile — not his polished one, but the more foolish number that meant he was excited. “Hallo, Jane.

They were very poetlitical — poet — political.” Gansey laughed at his own stumble. “Poets were political. I know that’s not really a tongue twister. I’ve been listening to Malory all day. P-p-political. Poets.

sweet angel

Blue loved this ponderous, scholarly Gansey, too involved with facts to consider how he appeared on the outside.

He turned, mug in hand, and suddenly they were an inch apart. She could smell the mint in his mouth. She saw his throat move as he swallowed. She was furious at her body for betraying her, for wanting him differently than any of the other boys, for refusing to listen to her insistence that they were just friends.

She wished she knew if fighting this feeling would make Gansey’s foretold end destroy her any less.

Something unpleasant happened in Blue’s throat when she tried to make out what was off about his face.

Binary stars, orbiting in close proximity, only becoming single stars when their partner was smashed off them by another pair of wildly spinning new stars. If she pretended hard enough, she could see the multitude of pairs clinging to each other in the destructive and creative gravity of their constellations. Impressive.

Ronan was always saying that he never lied, but he wore a liar’s face.

The students kept coming in. Adam kept watching. He was good at this part, the observing of others. It was himself that he couldn’t seem to study or understand.

He stepped into the classroom, shoulders square, and for just a second, it was like he was a stranger again — once more that lofty, unknowable Virginia princeling. It hit Adam like a real thing. Like somehow he had stopped being friends with Gansey and forgotten until this moment.

having these such intense realizations about each other CONSTANTLY is driving me insane

He remembered his manners and extended his fist. As Adam bumped knuckles with him, he felt an extraordinary rush of relief, of fondness. “Ronan, feet down.” Ronan put his feet down.

Adam said, “You were smart to figure it out.” “Oh, I don’t know,” Gansey replied, but it was clear he was proud. Adam felt like he had helped a bird hatch from an egg. Thank God we’re not fighting thank God we’re not fighting thank God we’re not fighting how can I keep it from happening again—

Adam didn’t have to turn his head to feel Ronan simmering.

“Miserere nobis,” Adam said. “Timeo nos horrendi esse. Sir.” Have mercy on us — I’m afraid we are terrible.

She stabbed at him with the knife as he stole a piece of mango. He avoided a wound only because of his speed, not her lack of intention.

#loveher

Violence was a disease Gansey didn’t think he could catch. But all around him, his friends were slowly infected.

His noble and oblivious and optimistic friend was slowly opening his eyes and seeing the world for what it was, and it was filthy, and violent, and profane, and unfair. Adam had always thought that was what he wanted — for Gansey to know. But now he wasn’t sure. Gansey wasn’t like anyone else, and suddenly Adam wasn’t sure that he really wanted him to be.

“I think,” he said, “that if — when — we find Glendower, I will ask him for Noah’s life. Do you think that would work?”

😭😭😭😭😭

He merely looked at Gansey. Something was different about him; he’d changed while Adam’s back had been turned. The crease between his eyebrows? The way he ducked his chin? The tighter set to his mouth, perhaps, as responsibility tugged the corners down.

“I think it’s crazy how you’re in love with all those raven boys.”

But what she didn’t realize about Blue and her boys was that they were all in love with one another. She was no less obsessed with them than they were with her, or one another, analyzing every conversation and gesture, drawing out every joke into a longer and longer running gag, spending each moment either with one another or thinking about when next they would be with one another.

Blue was perfectly aware that it was possible to have a friendship that wasn’t all-encompassing, that wasn’t blinding, deafening, maddening, quickening. It was just that now tha...

Blue barreled right into Gansey, who had stepped inside the front hall. For a moment she smelled mint, felt the solidness of his chest, and then she wheeled back. Gansey untangled his watch from Blue’s crochet jacket. “Hi.

After he got into the car, she realized he was wearing his Aglionby uniform, shoulders spattered with rain, just as his spirit had been when she saw it on the ley line. He could have died in that field and she would have been warned. But she hadn’t even thought about it until afterward. It was so impossible to live life backward.

if he let them run wild, he would be jealous of Ronan, jealous of Blue, jealous of Gansey with either of the other two. Any combination that didn’t involve Adam would provoke a degree of discomfort, if he let it. He wouldn’t let it. Don’t fight with Gansey. Don’t fight with Blue. Don’t fight with Gansey. Don’t fight with Blue.

There was no point telling himself not to fight with Ronan. They would fight again, because Ronan was still breathing.

Be a loser if you want to, but don’t make me part of it to make yourself feel better.” Ronan’s expression was cool over the top of the Pontiac. “Well,” he said, “fuck you, Parrish.”

He retrieved the object and held it up under the feeble interior cab light. It was a small white plastic container. Adam twisted off the lid. Inside was a colorless lotion that smelled of mist and moss. Replacing the lid with a frown, he turned the container over, looking for more identifying features. On the bottom, Ronan’s handwriting labeled it merely: manibus. For your hands.

He could not decide if he was tired, or tired of waiting. He wondered where Ronan had gone. He did not call Blue.

Gansey hadn’t even realized that he was still touching it softly. Leaning forward, Noah blew his cool, corpse breath over Gansey’s ear. “Nothing there. You’re just tired.” Gansey shivered a little.

three, does this still involve Gansey dying? Because f, that is not my idea of a happy ending.”