Between Burning Worlds (System Divine #2) - Jessica Brody Page 0,165

carnage. His eyes grew wide. “W-w-what happened?”

“He’s been shot,” Alouette said matter-of-factly. “He’s losing a lot of blood. There’s probably a med kit in the infirmerie. Can you go look?”

Marcellus nodded numbly and disappeared back up the steps.

Gabriel let out a soft moan, drifting in and out of consciousness. Cerise started to sob into her hands.

Marcellus returned less than two minutes later, carrying a small leather box which he handed to Alouette. “Bad news,” he said breathlessly. “The scans in the flight bridge are showing three warships within range.”

Cerise instantly stopped crying. “The Albion Royal Space Fleet?”

Marcellus nodded. “Lady Alexander must have alerted them. If we don’t do something to conceal ourselves, we’re going to be surrounded by micro-fighters before we’re ever able to accelerate to supervoyage.”

“Fric! Fric! Fric!” Cerise swore.

Keeping her knee pressed firmly on the wound, Alouette tore open the med kit and riffled around. The supplies were slim, but she found some gauze, which she immediately pushed onto Gabriel’s wound.

“Can you do something?” Marcellus asked Cerise.

Cerise looked up at him, her tearstained face splotchy and hopeless. “What can I possibly do? They’ve already overridden my cloaking code. I don’t know what else to—”

“What about the moons?” Alouette said, peering up from her position beside Gabriel. “What’s the closest one to the ship?”

“What?” Cerise asked, confused, but then a second later, her eyes lit up with comprehension. “A moon is big enough to shield us from their scans!” She wiped her cheeks, looking relieved to have something else to do besides stand there and watch Gabriel bleed. “I’m on it!” she called, bounding back up the steps to the bridge.

Alouette pressed more gauze into Gabriel’s stomach. He moaned and murmured something unintelligible.

“Shhh,” Alouette told him. “Be still. Don’t try to talk.”

She brushed a strand of hair from his forehead. It was tangled and damp with sweat, but in that moment, he looked just like the young boy she remembered from the inn. Vague and disjointed visions of him flickered through her mind: Gabriel smiling at her from behind a bubbling pot of stew. Gabriel offering to carry one of her heavy pails from the boglands. Gabriel snatching a scrap of bread from the table while Madame Renard’s back was turned.

“Is he going to be okay?” Marcellus asked in a shattered whisper.

But Alouette didn’t respond right away. The hastily made dressing on Gabriel’s wound was already soaking through. She pulled more gauze out of the med kit and pressed it down.

“Cluster bullets are very lethal,” she said evenly. “Once inside the body, they disintegrate and shoot off tiny pieces of shrapnel in all directions, ripping holes in delicate organs, veins, and lungs.” She fought to keep her voice from breaking. She fought to channel Sister Laurel, who would not cry nor break down in the face of an injury like this. Because she knew it would hinder her ability to do her job. She had to stay calm. In control. Even though she felt like she had a cluster bullet lodged inside of her, too.

“How do you know this?” Marcellus asked.

“From the Chronicles. There was an entire volume about Albion. It was never my favorite because I always thought, When would I ever need to know this?” Alouette let out a breath. “If only I knew.”

“Can you help him?” Marcellus asked, his eyes glassy.

“He needs surgery,” she said quietly. “If the shrapnel is not removed with the right equipment, it will eventually become infected and will poison Gabriel from the inside.”

Marcellus stood there, speechless and terrified. In his eyes, Alouette saw the desperation. The pleading. Please, fix this. Find a way to fix this. “Where are we going to get this equipment? We can’t take him to a med center. He’s wanted by the Ministère.”

Alouette darted her eyes back to Gabriel’s face. It was wan and drawn, as if every gramme of blood had seeped away.

She inhaled a long breath. “The Refuge. I can take him there while you and Cerise get the inhibitor into the water treatment centers.”

“But the Vangarde are …” Marcellus’s voice trailed off, and his gaze dropped to the ground, as though he was afraid to continue, as though he felt the need to protect Alouette from any reminder of the truth. But Alouette no longer needed protecting.

“I know,” she said quietly, gazing up at Marcellus. “The Vangarde are gone. The Refuge is empty.” She took a deep breath, steeling herself. “Which means I will have to find what I need from Sister Laurel’s journals