[ Ronan's expression is a worry. He doesn't like this. He doesn't trust this place in the way that he trusts Cabeswater, that much is obvious. That sends a prickle of anxiety down Gansey's spine. Adam and Ronan had both trusted Cabeswater, had both believed it wouldn't do them harm. Gansey's faith in that place had grown imperfect, and wary. At the same time, his friends' attachment had gotten stronger.

There's none of that faith here. Four months, they'd been here, and it's not on Ronan's side.

What has happened to him here? What has happened to all of them? Why can't Gansey remember? How can he help them if he can't remember?

Wary, he leans back. He can't let his face reflect that anxiety. If he wants to reassure Ronan, he needs to look assured in the first place. That would be a lot easier if he didn't have such a significant portion of this world's topsoil all over him. He works on keeping his voice even, despite not achieving the lightness he would like. They have enough to worry about. They don't need to worry about him too. ]

I was underground. Woke up there. Don't ask me how I got that way, since I'm helpfully lacking that memory, too. Adam found me.

[ After hours in the dark. If Gansey doesn't talk about it, he won't have to think about it. ]

Then I ran into a number of those demon cats, which, I've been informed, are not actually demons. I found that out from a griffin who could talk. And was a wizard.

[ He leans his head back. Somewhere here, a smile is fighting him. Maybe he's in shock.

Or maybe it's because he hasn't felt anything close to safe, until now. ]

I feel like we've fallen into Narnia. Did I make notes when I was here before? Keep a journal, anything.