Between Burning Worlds (System Divine #2) - Jessica Brody Page 0,104

and secured their restraints. This was the part of space travel that Marcellus disliked the most. Even with the stablizeurs, the acceleration into supervoyage was still intense and almost painful. But he loved the idea of how fast they were traveling once it was over. Not as fast as hypervoyage, of course, but still fast enough to cross half a system in less than two weeks.

Marcellus had never actually experienced hypervoyage before. It was reserved for long journeys across galaxies. But he’d heard that it was fast enough to bend space and blur the stars.

“Five … four … three … two … one.”

The hum of the supervoyage engines shook the floors, the consoles, and the flight seats, making it feel like the ship might break apart around them. Then, a few seconds later, Marcellus felt it. The tug on his muscles, the clench of his bones, every follicle of hair on his head tingling. Finally, the pressure became too much, and Marcellus had to close his eyes.

He wasn’t sure how long they’d remained closed. Maybe he’d passed out as people often do, or maybe he’d simply fallen asleep. But when he opened his eyes again, the tugging sensation in his chest was gone. Outside the window, the stars still shone bright and infinite. Laterre was now little more than a muted gray speck lost in the darkness. And somewhere out there, millions of kilomètres away, in the deep shadows of space, an enemy planet awaited their arrival.

- CHAPTER 31 - CHATINE

THEY WEREN’T NORMAL DREAMS. THAT much Chatine could be sure of. Because in normal dreams, Chatine was always running. Running toward something she could never catch, or running away from something she could never escape.

In this dream, however, Chatine was floating. In water? No, in clouds. Chatine didn’t even know you could float in clouds. The clouds on Laterre always looked too menacing. Too dark and dangerous, as though they would pull you in and drown you in an instant. But these were not Laterrian clouds. They were not gray and soaked in rain. These clouds were white. Buoyant. Soft. They drifted through her fingers. They danced across the nape of her neck. They brushed up against her flesh, tickling the spot just above her left wrist, where her Skin was. She giggled at the sensation. When was the last time she’d actually giggled? She couldn’t even remember.

The thought made her giggle harder.

“She’s coming around.” A deep, male voice broke through the clouds. It was a nice voice. A soothing voice. It made Chatine giggle again. “What is that noise she’s making? It sounds like she’s being strangled.”

A bright light shone into Chatine’s left eye. It was white and warm and beautiful. Was it a Sol? She tried to close her eye and bask in its warmth, but someone was holding her eyelid open.

She vaguely registered that this should annoy her, but she couldn’t seem to pinpoint why. She normally didn’t like people touching her. But right now, she simply couldn’t bring herself to care. She felt so peaceful. So … fluffy. Yes, that was the word, she quickly decided. She felt as fluffy and buoyant as those beautiful white clouds.

“Her pupils are dilating normally. That’s good. Still, I don’t like the look of that leg. We’ve got to keep her off it for at least another few days.” This, Chatine immediately recognized, was a different voice. Higher and tinklier. A woman’s voice.

The man snorted. “Yeah, good luck with that. She’s been a total pest since I picked her up. I should have left her back on Bastille.”

“But you didn’t,” said the woman. “Because you’re not heartless. You’re my sweet, kindhearted, heroic boy.”

The other voice let out a whine. “Maman, stop. No. No more kisses. Please.”

Chatine’s eyes fluttered open, and she tried to blink her vision into focus. Was that a ceiling above her? Yes, it was. A ceiling with soft white lights. Beautiful lights. Then a face popped into view, hovering directly above her. She recognized the man’s slender, chiseled features and deep-set, dark eyes.

“Hey. I know you,” she garbled. “You’re that nice pilote man.”

Etienne nodded. “Yup. That’s me. Monsieur Nice. How are you doing, Gridder?”

Chatine smiled a loopy, crooked smile. “I feel good. I feel really good.”

He snickered. “That would be the goldenroot talking. I told you, Maman makes the best.”

Just then, another face popped into view. A woman. The sight of her made Chatine flinch. She seemed to have the same dark eyes as Etienne, but dripping