Adam’s voice was patient, as if Declan were a child. “Multiply that times thousands. Imagine a world where all the things the Ronan Lynches of the planet have dreamt over the years begin to wake up. Over the decades. Centuries. Think about legends that could be talking about dreams. Think about all the monsters. Dragons. Minotaurs. How many of those things are just stories and how many of those things were dreams that are sleeping now because the dreamers died long ago? Right now, Ronan’s limited by how strong the ley line is. How many Ronans are there? What would they do without any limits? Stop thinking about Matthew for a second and think.”

And now it began to spool out in Declan’s mind, a future where dreamers with ambition broke the economy, changed the art world, dreamt escalating weapons. Niall and Ronan’s skill hadn’t been threatening because it had been limited both by ability and by scope—they wanted to live in the world as it was. But someone with absolute power and no checks or balances, Declan thought, someone with ambition …

“This isn’t about just keeping Matthew awake,” Adam said. “This is a bigger plan. This is a strategy.”

“That doesn’t sound like Ronan.”

“Why do you think I said we needed to talk about Bryde?”

Bryde.

“Declan,” Adam said, “the Moderators have special psychics. Visionaries, they call them. They’ve seen the future, and they think Ronan and the others are going to dream the apocalypse. That’s why they’re trying to kill him and Hennessy and Bryde. They think they’re going to end the world.”

Adam went on, his voice low. “There’s something out there. A thing that would end the world if it could, a kind of collective nightmare. I saw it the last time I scryed. A dreamer could bring it back. They wouldn’t even have to be trying to do it on purpose. You’ve seen what Ronan can do. Just one bad dream with enough ley energy to make it real, and then it’s game over. The Moderators have a point, is what I’m trying to say. Think about it. They have a point. And that’s even if there’s no bigger plan than just making the ley lines powerful again.”

For a moment they were quiet. Declan sat on the concrete bench and looked back down the street at Harvard. He thought about how, at the beginning of the semester, Ronan had come here to look for apartments, and Declan had really believed that his loud brother might possibly live a quiet life like that, for Adam’s sake.

“Has he called you?” Declan asked, knowing the answer already, not because of anything Adam had said, but because of all the things he hadn’t.

Adam just looked at him.