Between Burning Worlds (System Divine #2) - Jessica Brody Page 0,153

they were physical manacles too, Alouette now realized. And they were about to become something even more than just chains.

Gabriel sighed and tipped his head back to look at the sky. “What a view, huh? Are those all moons?”

She let her gaze drift upward and linger on one of the glowing orbs hanging in the darkness. “Yes. Albion has more than fifteen moons, but only four are visible right now.”

“Titanique,” Gabriel whispered. “I could get used to this.”

“Still thinking about moving here?” she asked.

“Huh?”

Alouette could feel Gabriel’s eyes on her, but she kept her gaze locked on the sky. “Back in the voyageur, you said you wanted nothing to do with this mission and I couldn’t help but notice that you are still here. You could have ditched us back at the defence complex and saved yourself. You could have slipped out the front door of Dr. Collins’s house the moment we arrived. But you’re”—she turned toward him, and their eyes met—“here.”

Gabriel glanced away, looking caught out. “Yeah, well, you useless pomps clearly need my help.”

Alouette cracked a smile. “Clearly.”

“And if you all died trying to bring down the general, I’m just not sure I could live with that on my conscience.”

“So you do have one of those?”

He flashed her a smirk. “Don’t tell anyone.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it.”

They fell silent and Gabriel returned his gaze to the sky. Alouette reached into her pocket and ran her fingertips over the metal tag of her devotion beads, thinking once again about that message Denise had sent her.

When the Lark flies home, the Regime will fall.

After everything they’d discovered today, Alouette was suddenly seeing Denise’s words differently. With new meaning. New clarity.

Denise knew about the TéléReversion program. And she also knew that Alouette was the only other person on Laterre who could interpret Dr. Collins’s code. That’s why Denise had hacked Marcellus’s TéléCom after being captured and sent Alouette that message

The certainty inside of Alouette was growing, filling her with light and purpose and determination. She now understood what Denise was trying to tell her. She could almost hear the sister’s voice whispering in her ear.

Fly home, Little Lark. Go back to the Refuge. Join us. Help us. Fight this fight.

“Do you really think we can stop him?” Gabriel asked in a low whisper, breaking into her thoughts.

Alouette squeezed the tag of her devotion beads, trying to extract every last gramme of strength and conviction the sisters had ever bestowed on her. “Yes.”

Gabriel turned to her with a doubtful expression.

“The general won’t have the final TéléReversion program for another week,” Alouette said. “That gives us just barely enough time to get back to Laterre and distribute Dr. Collins’s inhibitor into the water supply before the Skins are updated.”

“And then what?” Gabriel asked.

The question caught Alouette off guard. “What do you mean?”

“You don’t honestly think the general will just give up after we interfere with his weapon, do you?”

Truthfully, Alouette hadn’t thought that far ahead. What would happen if they succeeded? What would the general do next? She hadn’t the faintest clue. She so longed to talk to the sisters. To ask them what they knew. What had they been planning for all these years? If she could go back now, if she could turn back time and stand in that Assemblée Room again, she knew without a shadow of a doubt that she wouldn’t run away this time. She would stay. She would listen. She would ask the right questions, just like the sisters had taught her to do.

“We need your help, Little Lark.”

She would say yes.

“What were you doing out here, anyway?” Gabriel asked.

Alouette shook herself from her reverie. “What?”

Gabriel made a strange looping gesture with his hands that Alouette soon realized was supposed to resemble a Tranquil Forme sequence.

“Oh,” she said, feeling slightly embarrassed for having been seen. “I was just … practicing.”

“For your next prize fight against Ministère officers?” Gabriel asked with another smirk.

Alouette couldn’t help but laugh at that. “Sort of. I guess. It’s actually called Tranquil Forme. It’s supposed to be a sacred moving meditation. It keeps your mind focused and your body strong. But I’ve recently discovered it can also be used to fight.”

“So that’s your secret. Where did you learn that?”

Alouette felt a lump build in her throat. “From the women who raised me.”

“The Vangarde?” he confirmed.

She nodded, feeling a flush of adrenaline at the name. It no longer brought her a sense of anger and betrayal. It now brought her strength. Courage. Determination. Perhaps