The Dream Thieves (The Raven Cycle, #2)(53)

“You brilliant bastard!” Gansey said. “You’ve done it. What did you do?”

“Got tired of sweating is what I did. Let’s look under this damn lake and get back into air-conditioning. Oh, don’t even, Parrish.”

Adam, on the other end of the boat, looked extremely unimpressed with Ronan’s lack of heat tolerance. “I didn’t say anything.”

“Whatever, man,” Ronan replied. “I know that face. You were born in hell, you’re used to it.”

“Ronan,” Gansey said, “Lynch.”

For quite a few minutes, they were all quiet as they puttered slowly through the water, watching the unspecific elements on the screen. Gansey felt the unpleasant and distinct sensation of a single drop of sweat rolling between his shoulder blades.

Orla declared, “I’m having a psychic moment.”

“Pshaw!” Blue replied.

“No, really.” Orla opened her eyes. “Is there something on the screen now?”

There was. On the laptop screen, the images tantalized him. One was a disc of some sort and the other was an indistinct raven. In reality, it could be any sort of bird. But for the group in this particular boat, a suggestion was all they needed. They needed it to be a raven. It was going to be a raven.

Gansey contemplated whether he could dive for the object. The first thing that occurred to him was his teal polo shirt — it would have to be removed. The next thing that occurred to him was his chinos — could they be removed in the presence of all these females? Dubious. And finally he considered his contact lenses. They rebelled even in pool water, and this was certainly not a swimming pool.

Blue peered over the edge into the brown water. “How deep is the water here?”

“It should say.” Gansey squinted at the laptop. “Ten feet.”

“Well, then.” Blue flipped her sandals onto Orla’s bare belly, ignoring Orla’s vague protests.

Gansey said, “What! You can’t go in.”

“I actually can,” she replied, twisting her vestigial ponytail into a tiny knot on the back of her skull. “I really, really can.”

“But!” he tried. “You won’t be able to open your eyes in that. Without irritating them.”

“Your highly cultured eyes, maybe,” Blue replied. Pulling off her topmost tank top, she tossed it on top of Orla as well. Bare skin flashed through the tears in the remaining tank. “My swamp eyes’ll be great.”

Gansey was stung, but before he could protest, he was forced to snatch the laptop as it toppled. Orla had suddenly and swiftly stood, sending the boat crazily off-kilter. Everyone in the boat braced themselves and gazed at the bell-bottomed giantess.

“Stop, Blue. I’ll do it,” Orla ordered. Her pierced belly button was precisely at Gansey’s eye level. The silver ball winked at him. It said, Watch this, boys! “You’re wearing clothing. I have a bikini.”

Blue replied ferociously, “None of us can forget.” If not for the sun, her voice would’ve iced the lake.

Orla tossed her head, her magnificently large nose describing a circle in the air. Then she tore off her bell-bottoms so fast that all the boys in the boat just stared at her, dazzled and stunned. Gansey couldn’t understand the speed of it. One moment, she was wearing clothing, and the next moment, she was wearing a bikini. Fifty percent of the world was browned skin and fifty percent was orange nylon. From the Mona Lisa smile on Orla’s lips, it was clear she was pleased to finally be allowed to demonstrate her true talents.

A tiny part of Gansey’s brain said: You have been staring for too long.

The larger part of his brain said: ORANGE.

“Oh, for the love of God,” Blue said, and jumped out of the boat.

Ronan began to laugh, and it was so unexpected that the spell was broken. He laughed as Chainsaw hurled herself into the air to circle where Blue had gone in, and he laughed as Orla let out a honking sound and cannonballed into the water. He laughed as the image on the laptop distorted with the rollicking water. He laughed as he stretched out his arm for Chainsaw to return to him, and then he sealed his lips with an expression that indicated he still found them all hilarious on the inside.

The boat, previously stuffed to capacity, now contained only three boys and a small, discarded pile of girls’ shoes and clothing. Adam looked at Gansey, expression dazed. “Is this really happening?”

It was really happening, because the side-scan sonar showed two forms below the surface. One of them was nowhere near the objects and seemed to be moving in rather aimless circles. The other shot purposefully toward the vicinity of the raven, moving in brief surges that suggested a breaststroke. Gansey, former captain of the Aglionby crew team and a not untalented swimmer, approved.

“I feel rather ashamed,” Gansey admitted.

Ronan ran a hand over his shaved head. “I didn’t want to mess up my hair.”

Adam just watched the ripples spread across the water.

Only a second later, Orla reemerged. Like her dive, her reappearance was dramatic: a great frothy breach that ended with her floating idly on her back, hands behind her head.

“It’s too dark,” she said, eyes closed against the sun. She seemed in no hurry to try again or get back into the boat. “But it’s nice and cool. Y’all should come in.”