And slowly their lives found an equilibrium, though it didn’t seem they’d ever return to normal. The ley line was awake and Noah was all but gone. Magic was real, Glendower was real, and something was starting.
“Jane, not to be blunt, but this is a funeral,” Gansey said to Blue as she made her way across the field toward them. He and Ronan looked like groomsmen in their impeccable black suits.
Blue, lacking any black wardrobe options, had hastily stitched a few yards of cheap black lace over a green T-shirt she’d converted into a dress a few months earlier. She hissed furiously, “This was all the better I could do!”
“Like Noah cares,” Ronan said.
“Did you bring something else for later?” Gansey asked.
“I’m not an idiot. Where’s Adam?”
Gansey said, “He’s at work. He’s coming later.”
Noah’s bones were being buried in the Czerny family plot in a remote valley graveyard. His newly dug grave lay near the edge of the long, sloping graveyard on the side of a rocky hill. A tarp covered the fresh heap of dirt from grieving eyes. Noah’s family stood right next to the hole. The man and the two girls wept, but the woman stared off into the trees, dry-eyed. Blue didn’t have to be a psychic, though, to see how sad the woman was. Sad and proud.