Greywaren (Dreamer Trilogy, #3)

by Maggie Stiefvater

It was Chainsaw.

HE BROUGHT CHAINSAW

Ronan’s heart was soaring up along with her.

“Look who else is here. Chainsaw. Look who else is here: Kerah.”

I love Adam Parrish

At that word—Kerah—the bird returned in an instant, diving from the darkness. Adam’s voice was soft; he pointed. “Look.”

Adam’s voice was soft; he poin...

Ronan had never seen him be so close with Chainsaw, but the ease with which he did it, and the way that she tolerated it, told him

it must have happened before.

Adam watched her closely through all this, his worry giving way to a reluctant smile at her increasingly performative antics.

“Atom,” Chainsaw remarked in her deep, strange bird voice. Adam laughed a little. “Hi.”

Im gonna throw up oh my god

Yes, thought Ronan. Stay.

“I know I said I wouldn’t come back. I did mean it. And it’s not like you don’t deserve it …”

Ronan was suddenly and fiercely reminded of praying.

Not praying in a church, with a congregation, out loud, or reciting a memorized prayer. But instead the kind of praying he’d done when he was alone. Exhausted. Confused. Those prayers often faded into ellipses as he wondered if there was anyone on the other side of the line.

But instead the kind of praying he’d done when he was alone. Exhausted. Confused. Those prayers often faded into ellipses as he wondered if there ...

That copy exists. I made him. I am him. There’s a real version of me that stayed with you, I guess, that went out to Lindenmere every day and just learned everything he could about the ley line, about the something else. Or maybe who went with Gansey and Blue. Or who went to school in DC and came home every weekend. But this Adam killed those Adams so

this one could win, this one who came to Harvard to go to class and write papers and buy waffles with the Crying Club and pretend like nothing bad ever happened to him and like he has all the answers.”

“I lie to all of them. I lie to Gansey. I lie to Blue. I lie to my professors. It’s like I can’t stop. It’s like I, it’s like … I don’t want this version to have anything the other version had, good or bad. So any time I need a past, I just make something up. New parents, new house, new memories, new reasons for how I lost my hearing, new me. I don’t know what I’m doing anymore. Shit. You were, like, the place I stored all the reality in. Then I had to start lying about you, too, and it just all, it just all …”

I don’t know what I’m doing anymore. Shit. You

were, like, the place I stored all the reality in. Then I had to start lying about you, too, and...

wasn’t even looking for anything. I just missed it so bad, I just missed—”

He knocked his shoe against Ronan’s.

“I don’t know if I hate it here or if I hate that I don’t love it. I was supposed to love it. But I want to go—I think about it every day, just getting on the bike and going, and going, but where?”

“Anyhow, so I can’t blame you that you lied to yourself about dreaming Bryde. ’Cause I made this fake version of me, right, and I was wide awake when I did it. We’re both liars. I don’t know what to do. I miss …” He closed his eyes. “I miss knowing where I was going.”

He misses Ronan

Tamquam, Ronan thought, furious that Adam was upset, euphoric that he’d come back. It hadn’t been that long before this that he’d been wanting to know what emotions felt like, and now he had all of them at once.

Just before the door closed behind him, Adam said to the dark, “Alter idem.”

Plants grow to the size of their pot, and the old Mór and Niall had been pot-bound.

He was an unfoolish child.

It was splendid to not be hunted.

the knowledge it was conditional, the desire to believe it was real.

It was like he was a whole different person. It was like he was Ronan.

Harvard is a place Ronan Lynch cannot be, because he cannot survive there, either physically or socially. Without such hard barriers, Adam will surely continue to return to Ronan Lynch again and again, and thus fall back in with bad habits. He will never achieve the life of financial security and recognition he planned.

I don’t understand all the hate Adam got after this book. Everything he’s feeling is real.

Although life is unbearable now, and Adam Parrish seems to have lost everything important to him in the present by pursuing the things important to him in the past, he will be fine.

Cicero had written the phrase about Atticus, his dearest friend. Qui est tamquam alter idem. Like a second self.

Stop it

They were happy and sad, angry and forgiven, they were wanted, they were wanted, they were wanted.

After the initial shock wave leveled the building

Matthew was in that building

Declan sensed it, and Niall sensed it even more, and so he got into the habit of towing Declan with him as often as he could.

despite Declan’s best efforts to prevent it.

Matthew was also a usurper, a brother dreamt to be a better companion to Ronan than Declan.

Matthew might have been a dream, but nothing about him was pretend. Matthew was the truth. Declan took his hand and held it tightly.

Ronan had always worn his feelings on his sleeve.

“Find whoever killed him, Ronan,” Declan told him. “Find whoever killed Matthew and make sure they are never happy ever again.” He and his brother never hugged, but Declan put his hand on Ronan’s warm skull for a second. Declan said, “Be dangerous.”

Oh god. Declan has lost everything

his expression quite unlike himself, teeth bared in a violent, terrified snarl.

Everything at St. Agnes was comforting to Ronan.

God had not yet answered, but Ronan respected the reticence. Fathers were not always there. They had other things to do.

I may cry

dapper, tawny-haired man with a distinctive hawkish profile stood at the door, continuing to welcome in ever more guests, making sure no one was turned away.

He’d been confused and powerless in the capricious land of the living.

Someone seized Ronan’s hand, firmly lacing fingers with his, and he looked down at this gesture, this claim of possession. It was a boyish hand, all knuckles and veins, and it fit perfectly against his. He heard a voice in his ear: “Numquam solus.” In the dream, he knew what it meant: Never alone. How Ronan wanted to be dead.

He’d lost them both in quick succession. Matthew, dead. Adam, lost.

But all this time, that was what Ronan should have been doing. He had so much power before the ley line was shut down. He should have been guarding his family,

maybe he was a god dreaming of being a baby dreaming of being a god—