Piper looked at Morris and Beast. “Was this guy here the last time you came in?”
“No, ma’am,” replied Morris. “Sir, we’re headed into that cave, easy way or hard way. Right?”
This was with a glance to Piper.
“Right,” she replied. “Thanks for the warning, though.”
The man’s enormous brow furrowed. “THERE’S THINGS IN THERE YOU SHOULDN’T DISTURB.”
Greenmantle, wary of this man identifying him later on, took a tactful step back into the shadows to hide his face.
He backed directly into someone’s chest.
“Colin,” the Gray Man said. “I’m disappointed. Didn’t you read the envelope?”
“Oh, for the love of the saints,” Greenmantle wailed. “This was not my idea.”
“You,” Piper said.
“Yes,” the Gray Man agreed. He was, strangely enough, as well equipped as Piper, as if he, too, had been about to head into a cave. “Mr. Dittley, how are you?”
“WELL ENOUGH.”
The Gray Man said, “It’s time for the rest of you to leave.”
“No, you know what?” Piper demanded. “I am beyond tired of you showing up and throwing your weight around. I was here first, and I had plans. Men, do man things.”
Greenmantle hadn’t the faintest idea of what that meant, but Morris and Beast headed immediately for the Gray Man as Dittley rose to his feet.
The Gray Man dispatched Beast to either the grave or the infirmary in a disappointing two seconds. It was Morris who turned out to be a better match. They fought quietly, all bruised breaths and sighed punches, as Jesse Dittley put his gun down and held Greenmantle’s wrists like a petulant child.
“Everybody drop everything,” Piper said.
She was pointing a gun at the Gray Man’s head. A silvery one. Greenmantle still didn’t think it looked as dangerous as the black ones, but the others clearly did. The Gray Man narrowed his eyes, but released Morris.
She looked pretty smug about it. To the Gray Man, she said, “Yeah, how does it feel? Great? Remember when you put one of these to my head? Yeah. An asshole thing to do.”
The Gray Man’s expression didn’t change. It was possible he had no fear-face.
“Where did you get that?” Greenmantle asked his wife. “Did you get me one?”
Piper looked at him witheringly and jerked her chin. “You get that one.”
She meant Jesse Dittley’s shotgun, which he’d put down to hold Greenmantle at bay. It occurred to Greenmantle how pointless a virtue mercy was. If Jesse Dittley had just shot Greenmantle earlier, Greenmantle would not be holding his shotgun now.
Greenmantle pointed the shotgun at Jesse Dittley’s chest. He disliked all of this profoundly. He did not like to do things himself. He liked to hire people to do things for him. He liked to keep his fingerprints to himself. He did not like prison.
He blamed Piper for everything.
“Out of the way,” he said, then wished he’d thought of something catchier.
“I CAN’T LET YOU DO THAT.”
Greenmantle looked at Jesse Dittley. He could not believe they allowed humans to grow so tall. “You’re really making this a bigger deal than it needs to be.”
Jesse Dittley just shook his head, very slowly.
“Stand down!” Greenmantle tried. In the movies, this worked instantly. You pointed a gun at someone, they scurried out of your way. They didn’t just stand there looking at it.
Jesse Dittley said, “THIS IS NOT YOUR CAVE.”
Piper shot him.
Three times, fast, black spots appearing on his shirt and head.
By the time they looked back at her, she already had pointed her gun back at the Gray Man.
Greenmantle could not believe how unbelievably dead the giant man was. He was so very, very dead, and punctured. There were holes in him. Greenmantle couldn’t stop looking at the holes. They probably went all the way through him.
“Piper,” he said. “You just shot that man.”
“No one else was doing anything, seriously. All of this dick slinging!” Piper said. To the Gray Man, she said, “Drag him into the cave.”
“No,” the Gray Man said.
“No?” She had her shooting-people face on — which was to say, the face that she wore all the time.
“Oh, don’t shoot him,” Greenmantle said. His pulse was feeling rather jittery. All he could think about was how much more plausible the documents in that envelope were going to look when paired with the events of this evening. Didn’t Piper know that crime was supposed to involve painstaking planning and cleanup? It wasn’t the shooting that was hard, it was the getting away with it.
“I’m not going to move any bodies without gloves,” the Gray Man said in a chilly voice, demonstrating clearly why he had been good at this. “I would not have shot him without gloves, either. Prints and gunpowder residue are stupid ways to end up in prison.”
“Thanks for the advice,” Piper said. “Morris? You’re wearing gloves. Drag that dude and let’s get going.”
“What about him?” Morris asked, looking at the Gray Man.
“Tie him up. We’ll bring him with. Colin, why are you just standing there?”
“Actually,” Greenmantle said, “I think I’m going to sit this one out.”
“You have got to be kidding me.”
Not only was he not kidding, he was considering vomiting. He should have stayed single. He should have stayed in Boston. He should have been single in Boston. He was part of the way toward the door; he kind of wanted to be sure that he had a bit of cover in case she got pissed and decided to shoot him, too. “I’m just going to … head back. Don’t get me wrong, I think you look fantastic with the gun, but …”
“This is just. So. Typical. You always say, ‘We’re going to do this together, you and me,’ and then who ends up always doing it? Me, while you go start some other new project. Fine. Go on back. Don’t expect me to hurry back after you, though.”
He met the Gray Man’s eyes. The Gray Man was in the process of having his hands tied behind him by Morris. Efficiently, with a zip tie.
The Gray Man looked at Jesse Dittley’s body and closed his eyes for a second. Unbelievably, he looked angry, so he must have possessed emotions after all.
Greenmantle hesitated.
“Piss or get off the pot,” Piper snapped.
“Just go, Colin,” the Gray Man said. “You would have spared us both a lot of trouble if you’d never come.”
Greenmantle took the opportunity to go. He got lost heading back across the field — he had such a shit sense of direction — but once in the car, he knew the way. Away. All directions were away.
Blue Sargent was afraid.
There are many good words for the opposite of afraid. Unafraid, fearless, unfrightened.
Some might suggest courageous or brave as opposites.
But Blue Sargent was brave because she was afraid.
If Persephone could die, anyone could die. Maura could die. Gansey could die. There didn’t have to be ceremony or portent.
It could happen in a moment.
They went to Cabeswater again. Calla came with, but they were sans Malory, who was still unreachable, and sans Mr. Gray, who had vanished without explanation, and sans Noah, who had appeared only as a brief whisper in Blue’s ear that morning.