All at once, Ronan snarled, “This car. This fucking car, man. If this was a Plymouth Voyager, it would have been crushed for war crimes a long time ago.”
Adam felt that the Pig’s status perfectly encapsulated how he felt. It was not really dead, just broken. He was held inside the question of what it meant for him if Cabeswater was gone. Why can’t things just be simple?
“Adam?” Gansey asked.
Adam lifted his head. “Alternator. Maybe.”
“I don’t know what that means.” Gansey seemed almost relieved that the Pig had died. Now he finally had something concrete to do. If he couldn’t explore Cabeswater, he could at the very least get them from the side of the road. “Say it in a language I understand.”
“In indiget homo battery,” muttered Ronan.
“He’s right,” Adam said. “If we had a new battery to drop in there, we could make it back home until we looked at it.”
A new battery would cost a hundred bucks, but Gansey wouldn’t even feel the bite.
“Tow t r uck? ”
“State inspections today,” Adam replied. Boyd’s was the only tow company in town, and he only retrieved breakdowns when he wasn’t working in the garage. “It’ll be forever.”
Ronan leapt out of the car and slammed the door. The thing about Ronan Lynch, Adam had discovered, was that he wouldn’t — or couldn’t — express himself with words. So every emotion had to be spelled out in some other way. A fist, a fire, a bottle. Now Cabeswater was missing and the Pig was hobbled and he needed to go have a silent shouting fit with his body. In the back window, Adam saw Ronan pick up a rock from the side of the road and hurl it into the creeper.
“Well, that’s helpful,” Blue said tersely. She slid from the back into the now-empty passenger seat and shouted out, “That’s helpful!”
Adam didn’t quite catch all of Ronan’s growled reply, but he heard at least two of the swear words.
Blue, unimpressed, reached for Gansey’s phone. “Is there a place we can walk to?”
She and Gansey ducked their heads together to examine the screen and mutter about map options. The image of her dark hair and his dusty hair touching seared something inside Adam, but it was just one more sting in a sea of jellyfish.
Ronan returned, leaning in the passenger window. Blue turned the phone to him. “Maybe we could walk to this place.”
“The Deering General Store?” Ronan said, voice scathing. “Look at it. That’s not a place to get a battery. That’s a place to lose your wallet. Or your virginity.”
“Do you have a better idea?” she demanded. “Maybe we can hurl some stuff into the underbrush! Or hit something! That solves everything! Maybe we can be really manly and break things!”
Though she was turned to Ronan, Adam knew these words were meant for him. He laid his face on the back of the driver’s headrest and simmered in shame and indignation. He thought about the way the car had stammered before it died. Using up the last of the battery before it couldn’t go on. Then he thought about how Noah had disappeared in Dollar City while he was talking to Gansey on the phone. And now Cabeswater was gone. Using up the last of the charge.
But that didn’t make sense. He’d activated the ley line. It kept blowing out transistors in town because it was so strong. There shouldn’t be a lack of energy.
“I’m calling Declan,” Gansey said. “And telling him to bring a battery.”
Ronan told Gansey what he thought of this plan, very precisely, with a lot of compound words that even Adam hadn’t heard before. Gansey nodded, but he also dialed Declan’s number.
Afterward, he turned to Ronan, who leaned his cheek hard enough against the top of the window to make a dent in his skin. “Sorry. Everyone else I know’s out of town. You don’t have to talk to him. I’ll do it.”
Ronan punched the top of the Camaro and turned his back to it.
Gansey rounded on Adam, clutching his own headrest and looking behind him. “Why is it gone?”
Adam blinked at his sudden nearness. “I don’t know.”
Releasing the headrest, Gansey turned to Blue. “Why? Is it science, or is it magic?”
Adam made a dismissive sound.
“No,” Blue said, “I know what you mean. Did it go, or was it taken?”
“Maybe it’s invisible,” Gansey suggested.
Adam wasn’t sure he believed in true invisibility. He’d tried it and it never seemed to protect him. He asked Noah, “Are you still there when we can’t see you?”
Noah just blinked at him from the dimness of the backseat, his eyes liquid and faraway. He was, Adam noted, nearly disappeared already. He was more the feeling of Noah than actually Noah.
Ronan had been listening, because he spun and leaned in the window. “At the store, when he disappeared, he didn’t just become invisible. He went away. If you’re saying Cabeswater’s like Noah, it’s not invisible. It’s gone somewhere.”
There was a breath’s silence. This was where Gansey, if he were Ronan, would swear. Where if he were Adam, he’d close his eyes. If he were Blue, he’d snap in exasperation.
But Gansey merely rubbed a thumb over his lip and then drew himself up. He was instantly cool and elegant, all true emotions placed in an undisclosed location. He drew out his journal, jotted a note in the margin, and caged it with terse brackets. When he closed the pages, whatever anxiety he had over Cabeswater was closed in with the rest of his thoughts on Glendower.