Part 13 (1/2)

”But how?” Anya asked, the bangles on her wrists clinking together as we walked to Strategy and Prediction, which was being held off campus.

”Maybe it will come to me in another vision,” I said. ”That's how it happened before.”

The rest of the students loitered on the sidewalk by the school gates, which were matted with wet leaves. Parked by the guard's booth was a dark green van, with the St. Clement crest printed discreetly on the back.

Headmaster LaGuerre sauntered down the path in a light brown suit. When he saw us, he smiled and fished the keys out of his pocket.

I sat in the back row, in between Anya and a boy named Harrison, who had a chubby face covered in freckles. The seats were dusty and rough. In front of me sat Noah and Clementine, their heads bobbing together as we rolled over the cobblestone streets of the old port. I watched as she played with a lock of his hair and whispered something in his ear. He laughed, and I looked away, not wanting to admit that some part of me was jealous.

”As you probably realized from your placement tests, some dead animals are easier to sense than others,” said Headmaster LaGuerre, glancing back at us through the rearview mirror. ”The French term that Monitors use to describe this is force majeure, or in English, superior force. Some dead animals have a stronger force than other animals, which makes them easier to detect.

”For example, other than humans, the animal with the heaviest soul, and therefore the greatest force, is the cat, which is why it is our school mascot. The cat is much like a Monitor, because it can detect death just as we can.”

I thought back to Headmistress Von Laark's Siamese cats, who always pawed at Dante and Gideon.

”The same distinctions of force exist within humans. The sign of a Clairvoyant Monitor is being able to recognize these differences in weight. Death is everywhere. In order to do our jobs, we need to be able to distinguish between dead animals, dead people, and the Undead. After that, we find the Undead who are dangerous, and put them to rest.”

”Who put us in charge?” I asked, thinking of Dante. ”Why do we get to decide who lives and who dies?”

As I spoke, I felt a pair of eyes on me, which I a.s.sumed were Clementine's. But when I looked up, I discovered they belonged to Noah.

The headmaster nodded thoughtfully. ”Because a world without order would collapse in on itself. We're the only ones capable of sensing the Undead. It's not fair, I suppose, but it's not our task to solve the mysteries of nature.”

The van continued along the St. Lawrence River to the grungy industrial area of Montreal. Headmaster LaGuerre glanced over his shoulder as he maneuvered down the waterfront. ”But water,” he said. ”Water complicates everything.”

Following the headmaster, we climbed out of the van and walked to the dock. Big windowless factories lined the sh.o.r.e, spewing a continual stream of black smog into the sky. Rusty pipes and corroded beams of metal stuck out of the river like the remnants of a flooded forest. It smelled like a mixture of salt and sewage, and for the first time, I was glad my sense of smell was partially muted.

”It is incredibly difficult to sense a dead creature when it is immersed in water,” the headmaster said, stopping at the end of the dock. Behind him, a slew of rowboats bobbed in the water. ”And the deeper it is, the more challenging it is for us to sense its presence. Which is exactly why we're here. To practice our intuition.”

I s.h.i.+vered as I studied the flotsam drifting along the riverbank: beer cans and wrappers and cigarette b.u.t.ts.

”This is where people dump things that they never want to be found again. Weapons, clothes, the dead...Death often resides in inconvenient locations, and as a Monitor in the world, places like this will be your office. Many of the cases you will encounter are of children who have drowned -and per the Cartesian Oath, you will have to find them and bury them before they float and reanimate.”

A murmur rose over the cla.s.s.

He gazed out at the murky water. ”I have planted one dead animal out there,” he said. ”Your job is to locate it, identify it, and if possible, record its depth.”

We paired up. Noah was working with Clementine. I worked with Anya, her platform shoes wobbling as she climbed into a rowboat.

After I settled in, she handed me the oars. ”You row,” she said. ”I'll direct you.”

”Why do you get to direct?” I said.

”Because I have weak arms,” she said. ”I'm not good at sports.”

”But I'm better at detecting the dead than you are.”

She looked offended at my statement, but shook it off. ”All the more reason for me to practice.”

”Fine.”

”Fine.”

As we rowed out, the headmaster climbed into his own boat and continued to shout out tips on sensing the presence of the dead beneath the water. I tried to pay attention, but Anya kept changing our course. ”To the left more. No, now to the right. Oh, sorry, never mind, back to the left again.”

Frustrated, I turned around. ”Can you just pick a direction and stick with it?” At the periphery of my vision, I could see Noah put one of his oars down.

Anya pointed to the left. ”More that way.”

”That's wrong,” I said. ”I can feel it.”

”So can I,” Anya said. ”Just because you're first rank doesn't mean you're always right.”

”I'm right this time,” I said, but was distracted by a splash.

Clementine and Noah were a few feet behind us, their boat wobbling as Noah teased her with a net he'd fished out of the river.

”Stop it!” Clementine said, s.h.i.+elding her face as she laughed. ”You're shaking the whole boat!”

She winced as an oar fell in, splas.h.i.+ng water into her face. Her voice was shrill as she screamed.

”Okay!” she said, smiling while she wiped her cheeks, ”we have to get back to work.”

”You work too much,” Noah said, teasing her as he shook the water from his arms.

”Everyone else is already looking for the animal; we're behind.”

”Oh, come on,” Noah said. ”It's just a cla.s.s. Besides, how hard could it be?”

Clementine adjusted her barrette. ”Everything worth doing is hard,” she said, and picked up an oar.

Letting out a sigh, Noah's eyes wandered across the river as she rowed backward. I felt his gaze linger on me.

Clementine must have seen him staring, because her lips tightened. Quickly, I averted my eyes, and, under Anya's directions, we zigzagged away from them until we were close enough to hear the headmaster speaking to one of the boats ahead of us.

”Stop,” Anya said. ”I think it's right below us.”

I couldn't feel anything and knew she was wrong. But I humored her. Putting down the oars, I leaned over the edge of the boat and stared into the water, where I could see the headmaster's reflection as he rowed alongside a pair of girls.

I watched his lips move as he spoke. ”It's customary to bury Monitors at sea-a place where their bodies can never be detected, even by fellow Monitors. Very few Monitors ask to be buried in the ground. The few that do are buried in the Monitors' section of the Mont Royal Cemetery.”

Mont Royal Cemetery. I watched the reflection of the headmaster's face in the water. Suddenly I felt exhausted and miserable, as if I'd been searching for something but had failed.

Mont Royal Cemetery. I felt dizzy. I hated myself. I hated that I had failed.

My chest heaved, and I coughed. Slowly, I felt myself falling forward. There was a splash. And then everything went cold.

When I surfaced, I was dry and standing in a thicket of trees on the side of the mountain. In one hand I held a flashlight. Below me, the city was reduced to strings of tiny lights, and beyond that, I could see the St. Lawrence River, its waves glimmering in the moonlight.

I began to walk. Just a few yards away, there was a joggers' path illuminated by streetlamps, which wound up the mountain. I stayed away from it. Instead, I chose to travel unseen, weaving through the trees until I reached the other side of Mont Royal.