"Upset me? No. I loved it," Luce said quickly. "I mean--it was di cult to watch. But also fascinating. I've been wanting to talk about it with someone. ..." With Steven's eyes on her, she remembered the conversation she'd overheard her two teachers having with Roland. How it had been Steven, not Francesca, who'd been more open to including Announcers in the curriculum. "I want to learn all about them."
"All about them?" Steven tilted his head, catching the full sun on his already golden skin. "That could take a while. There are trillions of Announcers, one for almost every moment in history. The eld is endless. Most of us don't even know where to begin."
"Is that why you haven't taught them before?"
"It's controversial," Steven said. "There are angels who don't believe the Announcers have any value. Or that the bad things they often herald outweigh the good. They call advocates like me historical pack rats, too obsessed with the past to pay attention to the sins of the present."
"But that's like saying ... the past doesn't have any value."
If that were true, it would mean that all of Luce's former lives didn't add up to anything, that her history with Daniel was also worthless. So all she'd have to go on was what she knew of Daniel in this lifetime. And was that really enough?
No. It wasn't.
She had to believe there was more to what she felt for Daniel: a valuable, locked-away history that added up to something bigger than a few nights of blissful kissing and a few more nights of arguing. Because if the past had no value, that was really all they had.
"Judging from the look on your face," Steven said, "it seems like I've got another one on my side."
"I hope you're not lling Luce's head with any of your devilish lth." Francesca appeared behind them. Her hands were on her hips and a scowl was on her face. Until she started laughing, Luce had no idea she was teasing.
"We were talking about the shadows--I mean, the Announcers," Luce said. "Steven just told me he thinks there are trillions of them."
"Steven also thinks he doesn't need to call a plumber when the toilet over ows." Francesca smiled warmly, but there was an undercurrent in her voice that made Luce feel embarrassed, like she'd spoken too boldly. "You want to bear witness to more gruesome scenes like the one we examined in class the other day?"
"No, that's not what I meant--"
"There's a reason why certain things are best left in the hands of experts." Francesca looked at Steven. "I'm afraid that, like a broken toilet, the Announcers as a window on the past are just one of those things."
"Of course we understand why you in particular might be interested in them," Steven said, drawing Luce's full attention.
So Steven got it. Her past lives.
"But you must understand," Francesca added, "that glimpsing shadows is highly risky without the proper training. If you are interested, there are universities, rigorous academic programs, even, that I would be happy to talk to you about down the road. But for now, Luce, you must forgive our mistake for showing it prematurely to a high school class, and then you must leave it at that."
Luce felt strange and exposed. Both of them were watching her.
Leaning over the railing a little, she could see some of her friends on the ship's main deck below. Miles had a pair of binoculars pressed to his eyes and was trying to point something out to Shelby, who ignored him behind her giant Ray-Bans. At the stern, Dawn and Jasmine were seated on a ledge with Amy Branshaw. They were bent over a manila folder, making hurried notes.
"I should go help out with the welcome address," Luce said, backing away from Francesca and Steven. She could feel their eyes on her all the way down the winding staircase. Luce reached the main deck, ducked under a row of furled sails, and squeezed past a group of non-Nephilim students standing in a bored circle around Mr. Kramer, the beanpole-thin biology teacher, who was lecturing on something like the fragile ecosystem right below their feet.
"There you are!" Jasmine pulled Luce into their powwow. "A plan is nally taking shape."
"Cool. How can I help?"
"At twelve o'clock, we're going to ring that bell." Dawn pointed at a huge brass bell hung from a white beam by a pulley near the ship's bow. "Then I'm going to welcome everyone, Amy's going to speak