24   lamb to the slaughter

There are no words to explain the feeling in Mercy's heavy chest when Gansey calls asking if she or Ronan have seen Blue. Fortunately, she's found within the space of the day's sunlight and Mercy can breathe easy as Ronan drives them to 300 Fox Way in the shark-like BMW. The group piles into the kitchen, overloading it with warm bodies. Malory, Gansey, Adam and Ronan are at the kitchen table with Mercy perched on the corner. Persephone floats near the sink, busying her hands with strawberry and guava smelling soup and a teacup. Mercy eyes Orla as she darts in and out of the doorway, peering at Ronan through the gaps in between people. She's shooed away by Calla who's leaning broodily on the counter.

          "I can't believe you aren't dead somewhere." Ronan tells Blue. "You should be dead somewhere."

Mercy elbows his side. Ronan grunts, shooting her a look of contempt.

          "Thanks for your concern." Blue replies. She looks at Malory. "Professor Malory, would you like some tea?"

          "I would love a cup of tea." Malory accepts her offer, looking relieved.

          "Do you prefer, er, fruity or footy?" She asks. "If you were to have one or another in tea form?"

Malory considers his choice for a moment. "Footy."

          "Bold choice," Blue says. "Anyone else?"

Mercy perks up. "Me too, please. Fruity for me."

Blue nods. The rest of the room shake their heads, rejecting the offer. Most have a level amount of experience with the tea station at 300 Fox Way—all eclectically collected either from their yard or at farmers' markets in brightly coloured stands. Then, chopped up and bagged according to the main ingredient or intended effect: Sleep, Love, etc.

Calla looks at Blue. "I went straight to bourbon."

Her and Persephone toast cheerily.

          "Can I get some of that?" Mercy interjects, looking between Calla and Blue.

Blue rolls her eyes, but slips some into Mercy's tea anyway. The redhead grins.

          "All right." Gansey says. "Here's the deal. We've found another cave, and anecdotally, someone is sleeping in it. It's time to decide what to do."

          "There's no decision." Ronan says. "We go in."

          "You say that because you didn't see Noah today." Blue tells him, setting down a mug in front of Malory and then Mercy. She looks at them momentarily quizzically. Then switches them around and nods. Her gaze turns back to Malory. "That one doesn't have any hallucinogenic effects, but you might experience some euphoria."

          "Nothing I have ever drank here has ever made me experience anything close to euphoria." Gansey says.

          "Speak for yourself." Mercy replies, taking a long, obnoxious slurp of her bourbon-laced tea.

          "You've never had that one," Blue says to Gansey dismissively. "Anyway, Noah was a pretty scary thing. Jesse, the man who owns the cave, says there's a curse."

Mercy is drinking her tea as Blue outlines the curse, the demand of sacrifice, the long line of Dittley's that have died to the cave and its creatures.

          "Why doesn't he just move?" Adam asks.

          "Out of his family home?" Ronan, sounding earnest and shitty at once.

          "Home is putting it strongly." Gansey says. "I saw this place."

Mercy purses her lips. She's familiar with the unbalanced force that is one's family home. It's been almost too long since she's been to her own home—spending weeks hiding within the safe confines of Monmouth Manufacturing. There's no denying that Mercy loves Siken Lane but the images in her head overrun any fond memories. Blood on the floor, yellow distorted, Berlin over her shoulder.

Ronan's hand on her shoulder shakes her out of her stupor.

          "You." Blue points at Gansey. "Shut up before you say something offensive. There's something else you should know. One of the women here foretold Jesse's death earlier this year. She didn't know him, but she knew his name."

Mercy's chin snaps up, and she puts down her tea. She can feel the phantom shake of the medicine bottle in her lap. There's a shift in Blue's voice, small but distinctive and it makes Mercy's skin crawl. She's telling a half-truth.

          "Wait, wait," Gansey says. "So you're telling me that not only does this Jesse Dittley believe there's a curse on this place, but actually, he is right, and he's going to die."

          "Or he's going to die because of something we do," Blue insists. "That's why I brought it up. I feel we should make decisions responsibly."

          "You guys have a death list?" Ronan breaks in. "That is fucking dark. Am I on it?"

          "Some days, I wish." Blue says snidely.

          "Can I see it?" Adam asks.

          "What?"

          "Can I see the list?"

Blue shifts away, making herself a cup of tea. "I don't have it. Mom took it with her. I just remembered his name. I mean, I thought it was a girl, with an ie at the end, but the Dittley part was memorable."

Mercy notices Calla raise an eyebrow. She looks down at her mug, the bourbon shifting into something sour. One of us is on it, Mercy thinks, maybe more. Near her, Adam is making the same observation. She taps her nail against her mug thoughtlessly as her head churns—would Calla offer to help her if she was going to die? Probably. Mercy lets the notion sink into her bones along with a feeling of dread.

          "Never mind that," Gansey says. "Time's wasting and Adam has to go soon. The point is, are we going into this cave tomorrow?"

Which one of us?

Malory perks up. "Now would be a good time to point out that I will not be going into caverns. I am happy to lend support from a location the sun is able to reach."

          "Of course we're going in." Ronan says. "Why wouldn't we?"

          "Risk," Gansey replies. "I can't stress how strongly unwilling I am to put anyone in this room in danger."

Mercy snorts.

          "Also, rabbits, remember there's more than one sleeper." Calla points out. "Three of them. One is for you to wake, and one is for you to not wake."

          "And the one in the middle?" Ronan and Mercy ask in unison.

They look at each other in mild disgust, furrowing their noses.

           "These things just really always sound better in threes." Persephone says, voice small and soft.

           "Jesse also said that some things shouldn't be woken." Blue adds, refusing to catch Adam's eye. "So, yes, risk."

More than one of us?

          "We went into the cave in Cabeswater." Ronan says. "The risk was the same. Maybe worse because we were clueless going in."

          "Well, I agree with Ronan," Blue says, "but I am also biased, because I want to find Mom and that's worth the risk for me."

Mercy nods in agreement. "I'm in."

Adam turns his keys in his hands, looking contemplative before checking his watch. "If we've decided, I have to go."

          "Already?" Gansey asks. "How rotten. Oh well."

          "Yeah," Adam says. "But I've got this weekend and a bunch of days off after. Blue, could you help me get this thing out of the car?"

          "What thing?"

Adam, adept to lying, answers smoothly, "The stuff you wanted. I can't believe you don't remember. The fabric."

Adam shifts underneath Mercy's narrowed, careful gaze. He's almost happy to leave her behind as he and Blue step through the door to the outside world. On his way out, he fist-bumps Gansey at the counter and nods to Ronan and Malory, tapping two fingers to his temple in a mock-salute to Mercy so he looks less suspicious. At least he thinks he looks less suspicious.

          "I don't rememe—" Began Blue before Adam grabs her arm.

          "Which one of us, Blue?"

          "Hey, don't —!" She wrenches her arm free.

          "Which of us is on that list?"

Blue looks away. She doesn't answer, but doesn't insult him by trying to deny him either. It's a stalemate.

          "Blue."

The girl still refuses to look at him.

Adam steps around her to force her to look at him. "Blue, which one of us?"

          "Blue."

          "You won't be able to unknow it." Blue's voice cracks, eyes broken and cracking like a mirror. It's worse than if she were crying."

          "I have to know." Adam says. "Don't you get it? That will be the favour. That's what I'll ask for. I need to know so we can make that what we ask, if there's only one."

She holds his gaze.

          "Gansey." Adam says.

Blue closes her eyes, chin lowering to her chest. Adam looks at her closer.

           "He's not the only one, is he?" Adam presses.

She says nothing.

          "Who else?"

Blue shakes her head.

          "Come on, Blue." Adam hooks fingers underneath her chin. "Who else?"

She says it like a whisper in the wind, the voice that broaches her mouth is dark and hoarse, almost like an illusion of something else:

          "Mercy."