Dead Beautiful Page 87
Nathaniel coughed. A deep, hacking cough.
“Are you sure you’re okay?”
“I told you, I’m fine. But I’m not sure if you are.”
I frowned. “What do you mean?”
“Gideon had your file too. I didn’t get a chance to look at it, but it was definitely there.”
“Why would he want my file? He has no idea who I am.”
“I don’t know. But there must be something in there of interest. The real question you should be asking is: do you know who you are?”
CHAPTER 17
The Board of Monitors
IT WAS THE NIGHTTIME WHEN I SNUCK OUT OF THE nurses’ wing and back to the girls’ dormitory. Dante wasn’t anywhere to be seen, and when I got back to my room, Eleanor wasn’t there either. Probably in the library, I thought. I shut the door. There was only one other person who could give me answers. I pulled out my suitcase and dug inside until I found a folded piece of paper. Picking up the phone, I dialed the nine-digit number scrawled on the bottom of the note. After three rings, Dustin picked up.
“Winters Residence.”
“Is my grandfather there?”
“Miss Winters?” he said, lightening his tone. “Of course. One moment.”
I waited until the line clicked. “Renée?” My name sounded strong and definitive in my grandfather’s baritone voice.
“What aren’t you telling me?” I demanded.
There was a long silence.
“Renée, have you ever felt pulled to someone?”
Immediately Dante came to mind. “Yes.”
“I’m not talking about love. I’m talking about something else. Something more magnetic.”
“Yes,” I said, the word leaving my mouth before I could stop it.
“Good. And do you remember when I told you that the early headmasters built tunnels beneath the campus to keep the Plebeian students safe?”
“Yes.”
“They also took another precaution. The Board of Monitors.”
“But the Board of Monitors does nothing. They don’t even help Mrs. Lynch patrol the halls.”
“Because patrolling the halls isn’t their function.”
Confused, I waited for him to continue.
“The Board of Monitors was originally formed as a group of living students who had the gift of sensing death. It is virtually impossible to tell the difference physically between the Undead and the living. Monitors represent a small percentage of the population who can actually make that distinction. It’s a skill that often runs in families. Monitors are usually drawn to death even from a young age. At Gottfried, the headmistress and professors are able to identify these students through a series of examinations that take place during the admissions process. They then elect a Board of Monitors, whose role is to help protect both the living and the Undead. When a student is elected to the board, they are then educated by the headmistress about the details of the Undead; before that, their education is no different than yours.
“However, the role of the board isn’t only to protect students. It is also a way for us to begin training young Monitors for what they may face in the world outside of the Academy. After Gottfried, almost all Monitors go on to continue their work in the greater world. It is understood that Monitors are a rare breed, and trained Monitors are even rarer, and Gottfried is one of the few schools that teach a very specific set of skills to those who are perceptive enough to understand how to use them.”
“Do the Undead know about Monitors?”
“They are educated about people with the ability to sense death. They are not, however, educated about the Board of Monitors. That would create an environment of fear and resentment at the Academy.”
“And Headmistress Von Laark is a Monitor?”
“Yes.”
“And all of the professors?”
“Correct.”
I gripped the telephone. “So the headmistress and the Board of Monitors could have killed a student?”
“Only if the student was Undead, and had violated the one rule that both humans and Undead share: Do not kill.”
I let the receiver drop to my shoulder as Minnie’s drawing flashed through my mind. The Board of Monitors had buried Cassandra as punishment for taking Benjamin’s soul. Minnie had been right all along.
“So it’s okay if the headmistress or the Board of Monitors kills an Undead? That isn’t right.”
“Which is why Gottfried exists. To teach the Undead not to kill. And to teach the Monitors to use their skills only as a last resort.”
But that isn’t what happened to Nathaniel, I thought. Brandon Bell was a Monitor. That’s how he knew what Eleanor had become. And he exacted punishment on Nathaniel without knowing if he was guilty. “That doesn’t seem right,” I said.
“Who can really say what’s right and wrong?” my grandfather said.
“So it’s just the professors and the board? Or are there others?”
“There are others, though Monitors are extremely rare. Usually only a few are admitted every year. Sometimes only one. And even then, there are levels of talent in Monitors, just like there are stages of being Undead, which is why we administer admissions tests. The level of sensitivity toward death varies. Often a mediocre Monitor will be able to sense a bird carcass hidden in a bush a few feet away, which is something that a normal person could probably sense too. But they wouldn’t be able to find the dead bird across campus. Only the most talented Monitors are elected to the Board of Monitors, where they are educated and extensively trained. Otherwise, it’s like giving a loaded pistol to someone who is unable to shoot properly.”
There was a long silence as I considered everything my grandfather had just told me, trying to work it out in my head. “So the Monitors protect and kill the Undead?”
“Monitors are hunters. But they’re also like judges. They have the heavy responsibility of deciding whether an Undead is harmless or harmful. If the latter, the Monitor puts that person to rest. That’s why the Monitors can’t be replaced by actual police. Because only a select few have the ability to sense death. You being one of them.”
“Me?” I said with wonder. Memories began to crowd my head, memories of all the unexplainable moments in my past; things I had done but couldn’t explain, things that had happened to me that didn’t make sense and never seemed to happen to other people. Was it possible that the reason behind all of it was that I was a Monitor? Yes, I wanted to say. Yes, I was different. I had always been different.