“Are you sure?”
I nodded.
With that, we made our way back, our arms stretched over the headstones as we wove in and out of them, veering apart and then coming together in a dark waltz. I laughed as I skipped down an overgrown row a few steps ahead of Dante. I was almost at the chain when he called out to me. “Watch your step.”
At his words, I froze, the smile fading from my face. Slowly, I looked down. Buried in weeds just below my feet was the nameless headstone, the same one I had tripped over in my vision. The word soeur peeked out just above the grass.
Suddenly I felt queasy. I put a hand to my head, my knees growing limp. “Renée?” Dante said, just as I fell. I landed on the frozen earth beside the crooked stone.
Its inscription was barely visible through the frost.
“Are you okay?” Dante said from above me, bending down to offer me a hand. But I couldn’t bring myself to look at him. Had he lied to me?
Rolling over, I stood up and brushed myself off.
“What’s wrong?” he said, studying me. “You look sick.”
I took a step away from him. “Did you see that headstone?”
“Of course. That’s why I told you to watch your step.”
I paused, trying to sort everything out. “But it’s so dark. How did you see it from all the way over there?”
Dante gave me a confused look. “I was right behind you.”
Was he? I couldn’t remember.
“What’s going on?” he said, his voice betraying a hint of alarm.
“I had another vision. I came to this cemetery, looking for a grave, but while I tried to find it, I tripped over a headstone. The same headstone you just warned me about.” I squinted at him in the dark.
“What are you implying?”
“That my visions are yours. That I’m somehow seeing what you’re doing.” I swallowed. “That you’ve been lying to me about it.”
Dante gave me a baffled look. “Lying to you about what? What do you think I’m doing that’s so terrible?”
“I don’t know,” I said, shaking my head. “Digging up a grave. Looking for the secret of the Nine Sisters.” But the more I spoke, the more absurd everything sounded. If he had been looking for the secret of the Nine Sisters, he would have told me.
“Is it really so hard to believe that I saw the headstone just before you fell?”
“I—I don’t know,” I said, and looked up at him, hoping the truth would be somehow etched in his face. “Tell me where you’ve been this whole time. Tell me what you’ve been doing. I feel like I’m walking in the dark.”
“I’ve been in hiding,” he said. “Moving around so the Monitors can’t find me. You know that.”
“But why won’t you tell me any specifics?”
“I don’t want to put you in any danger. If the Monitors here ask you questions, I don’t want you to have to lie. It’s better if you don’t know where I am.”
“So ask me to run away with you,” I said. “I would say yes. You just have to ask me.” My back went rigid as I leaned against the trunk of a tree and waited for him to say the words: Come with me.
But they never came.
“I can’t.”
I felt something inside me wither. It was too dark for me to see Dante’s face, and I was glad. I didn’t want to see what he looked like when he was pushing me away. “Why?” I said, my mouth suddenly growing dry.
“Because if we go somewhere together, I’ll still die in five years. And you need to be at St. Clément. You need to train as a Monitor so you can protect yourself.”
“Protect myself from whom?” I said, my voice cracking. “The Undead? I can—”
“From me.”
“But—but you wouldn’t hurt me.” The words got caught in my throat.
“Not now, but what if I change?” The wind whistled through the branches above us as I waited for him to continue. “The Undead have been known to grow uncharacteristically violent in the final stages of their existence. Maybe it’s desperation, or maybe it’s something less easy to control. I don’t know. But you have to prepare yourself.”
My hair blew across my cheeks. I didn’t know what to say. The only thing I had been certain of was that Dante would never hurt me. It was the only thing that had given me hope these past months; hope that we would make it, that we would find a solution and be together for as long as time would let us. But I had been wrong, because he was hurting me now.
“And I need to stay here,” Dante whispered. “I need to stay here and keep searching for a solution.”
“But I already found one,” I cried, and then lowered my voice. “I think you know what it is.”
Dante tilted his head as if he wanted to tell me something. “I…” He let his voice trail off in the wind.
I wanted him to say more, but he didn’t. The wind quieted until everything became still. In the silence, I heard something rustle across the way, as if someone were stepping on dried leaves. I put a finger to Dante’s lips.
“Do you feel that?” I heard a girl’s voice say. It was the same voice I heard through the walls every night before I went to sleep. Clementine. Had she followed me here?
“What?” another girl said. It was Arielle.
“An Undead,” Clementine said.
“We’re in a cemetery,” another girl said. “Everything here is dead—”
Clementine cut her off. “No, this is stronger. It’s coming from over there. Where the voices were.”
Realizing she was talking about Dante, I dropped to the ground, pulling Dante with me behind a tall headstone. Go, I mouthed to him, hoping he would know to get as far away from Clementine as he possibly could.
Before I could say anything more, he was gone, the shadows shifting around him as he moved soundlessly through the night.
The sound of Clementine’s footsteps got closer. “Stop being so scared,” she said to one of her friends, who must have been hesitating. “We’re Monitors. We can handle this.”
“But I’ve never seen an Undead.” I recognized Josie’s voice.
The wind engulfed the rest. I heard Clementine say something to the girls, but I couldn’t make out what. Someone responded. There was a brief argument. And then suddenly, everything went quiet.
I was beginning to think they had left, when, without warning, something sharp jabbed me in the side.
“Ow!” I yelped.
“Get up,” Clementine said from above me. “Slowly.” She was holding a shovel against the back of my neck, the tip of it cold on my skin.
I did as she said.
“Now turn around,” she said. “And keep your hands out so I can see them.”
I closed my eyes, feeling Dante’s presence disappear into the distance, and turned around.
“Who were you with?” Clementine demanded from beneath the hood of her coat. A group of girls stood behind her.
“No one,” I said quickly. “I am alone.”
“That’s a lie. We heard voices.”
“Do you see anyone else? I’m here alone.”
Clementine studied me. “I heard a boy’s voice. You were with a boy. An Undead boy.” Her eyes wandered to the spot in the distance where Dante had disappeared.
“That was me. I was trying to talk to the dead,” I persisted. I had to distract her. “This is the Monitor section. I thought I could contact one of them to ask about the Nine Sisters. There’s no one else here but me.”
“Then why could I feel you? Why did you feel like an Undead?”
“Because I died once. Remember?”
Clementine looked me in the eyes, measuring whether or not I was telling the truth. I saw her falter, and before she could react, I grabbed the shovel and twisted it out of her arms. With more ease than I expected, I flipped it around and pointed the tip at her.
Her friends seemed to want to do something, but they were too terrified of me to get close. Now I was in control.
I pushed the tip of the shovel into Clementine’s neck. “Why did you follow me here?” I asked.
She raised an eyebrow, trying to maintain her cool. “Because I thought you were up to something. And I was right.”
“Do you really want to know what I was doing?” I asked, holding the shovel steady.
Clementine lifted her chin, but said nothing.
“Okay, I’ll tell you. Or how about this? I’ll show you.”
“Fine,” she said, though I could tell she didn’t trust me.
“Bend down,” I said.
She did as I said.
“Wipe away the frost from that headstone.”
I watched the muscles in her neck tighten as she rubbed her palm over the crest of the canary. The moon glinted in her eyes as she glanced over her shoulder at me. “Is this a joke?”
I turned the shovel around and held out the handle to her. “No. I came here tonight to find it.”
Cautiously, she took the shovel from me, and we took a few steps away from each other. Breaking my gaze, she knelt down and read the inscription.
“‘Here it is laid to rest,’” she read, and turned to me. “The secret of the Nine Sisters is buried here?” she asked, as if she didn’t believe it.
The grave before her was mounded higher than the others, the soil loose and scattered about the grass as if it were fresh. Or recently unearthed? I didn’t know if the secret was there or not, but I did realize then that my visions were more than just wanderings.
“I don’t know,” I said. Whoever I had been in my vision —Dante or otherwise—had never made it to the bottom of the hole.
“You really don’t know,” Clementine murmured, studying me before telling the girls to start digging.
I wanted to leave, to be anywhere but here, where everything—the headstone, the shovels, the girls tossing dirt over their shoulders—made my head spin. What was Dante going to tell me? Had he been here before, or was I losing my mind?