The August heat suctioned my long hair to the back of my neck like a wet mop. They jammed too many students onto the circle drive at the campus entrance. Mostly freshman, but a few transfer students like me. It reeked like a smelly old gym sock as we waited for the dean to make her welcome speech. I wiped my moist palms on my plum tank top, but the stink hovered above the orientation-day crowd.
Reaching into my purse with my fingertips, I felt for the worn edges of my brother’s postcard. It was the only clue James had sent of his whereabouts in the last three years. Clutching the postcard like a lifeline, I reminded myself again that the frayed card from Italy proved he was still alive. I knew it was a message, a code of some kind, telling me something. That one little postcard was the whole reason I’d left Indiana behind to attend Montrose Paranormal Academy in New York.
Well, truth be told, the postcard wasn’t the only reason I left Indiana. But who wants to hear another cliché story about catching your boyfriend with your best friend? So tacky, right?
Goodbye Indianapolis, Lucy McAllen has moved on to bigger and better things. That’s right, me, a sixteen-year-old, on my own in the Big Apple. The city of possibilities. Okay, more like Riverdale, New York. But still what could be better than a fresh start?
Somewhere up ahead, a bullhorn screeched, grating into my eardrums. The crowd winced, everyone covering their ears.
“My apologies, students.” A sharp-dressed lady in a tan skirt and suit jacket stepped on a box and addressed the group, bullhorn in hand. “My name is Dean Frederickson. Welcome to Montrose Paranormal Academy. Or just Montrose Academy to the outside world.” She winked her dark lashes.
A cheer erupted from the crowd. Dean Frederickson waved her ebony hands until everyone quieted down. “I want to welcome all of you new students to the academy. Montrose Paranormal Academy is a neutral training ground for the three societies: The Nexis Society, The Order of the Guardians, and The Watcher Corps. Here are some pamphlets about how the academy was established.” The dean ushered to two assistants who started handing out glossy brochures.
My insides clenched into a knot. I still had no idea how the academy could be a neutral place for three warring secret societies—especially when so much power was at stake. Which was the whole reason I’d avoided this school like the plague. Finally, a stack of sweaty pamphlets reached me. I took one and passed them on, fanning myself with the damp paper. While the dean droned on about dorm parents and resident assistants, I noticed that everyone in the crowd opened their pamphlets. Was I missing something? Maybe there was some kind of prize or coupon inside.
Flipping open the brochure, I read the first few paragraphs. “Montrose Academy was established in 1773 as one of four training intuitions to keep the peace between the Three Societies. Before the creation of Montrose, the secret societies feuded over the sacred stones and caused countless wars throughout the world. At a peace council in 1770, the societies agreed to end the bloodshed by splitting up the stones and assigned them to four sectors around the world—Africa, Asia, Europe, and the New World (now North and South America). Each society would guard its own stone in each sector. They established neutral institutions in each sector to train members of all three societies to maintain the peace.”
Apparently, the dean was still talking. “You may pledge any of the three societies that interest you. All the Ivy League chapters of each society recruit from the society chapters on this campus. But remember, there are severe consequences for inter-society skirmishes on campus.”
I inhaled a lungful of ninety degrees plus humidity. I made a promise to pledge each society to see what info they had on my brother. But I couldn’t expose my true intentions. If I ended up like James, or worse, I’d be of little use to him. As the second born in the Seer’s line, I had certain gifts like foreknowledge and a keen sense of intuition. Those gifts were nothing compared to the powers of the Seer, aka my brother. But if I wanted to figure out what these secret societies did to make him disappear, this was the best place to start. I’d just have to play it cool and fly way below their radar.
Dean Frederickson swiped at the perspiration beading her forehead. “Your classes will be a mix of core curriculum and paranormal classes. However, on your transcripts, your course will appear like normal classes; English, History, and so on. Pay special attention to those classes with a paranormal twist. This is your opportunity to see if you have any latent bloodline skills or to groom yourselves for higher up roles in the three societies.” Raising her arms, she gestured around campus. “As first-year students, your classes have already been chosen for you. However, you can sign up for campus activities and get a tour of our lovely grounds. Please take advantage of these opportunities to prepare yourself for classes on Monday. You are dismissed.”
With a roar of grumbles and murmurs, the students dispersed in all directions. I headed toward the orientation fair’s mishmash of tents set up in between the boy’s dorm and the girl’s dorm buildings, which were actually renovated old mansions near the bank of the Hudson River. Sweat trickled down by back as the August sun beat down on me. If I could just find my roommate we could go explore the grand campus waiting just beyond the hills.
A guy squeezed next to me in the crowd. He flashed his piercing gray eyes at me, not to mention an adorable chin cleft, and waved a flyer in my face until I reached for it.
“Welcome to Montrose. Hope to see you
