Between Burning Worlds (System Divine #2) - Jessica Brody Page 0,172

the planet. I thought I was destined for better things. Bigger things.”

“Maybe you are.”

But Cerise only chuckled. “Maybe I’m not. Maybe I’m just stupide. Papa always said I was too idealistic for my own good.” She glanced around the messy kitchen. “Maybe that’s true. I just wanted to help. I fancied myself a sympathizeur.”

“You are a sympathizeur. And the world needs more of them.”

Cerise scoffed. “Yeah, but what does that even mean? Nothing. Gabriel was right. My life is a joke. I don’t really do much besides sit around in my fancy manoir, trying to track down some elusive kill switch that probably doesn’t even exist. It probably is just a stupide conspiracy theory that I’ve wasted far too much of my life trying to prove right.”

“No one has proven it wrong,” Alouette pointed out.

Cerise scoffed. “I don’t know. Maybe the kill switch is just a metaphor for everything that’s wrong with me. Maybe I just want so badly to believe that there’s this mythical fantasy solution to the world’s problems, and if I just look hard enough, I’ll find it. Meanwhile, I’ve never done anything that might actually make a difference.”

“Cerise!” Alouette said incredulously. “Look outside the window. You’re on a voyageur, hiding behind an Albion moon. You traveled to an enemy planet, came face-to-face with the System Divine’s most formidable soldiers, and you lived to tell about it. If that’s not doing something, I don’t know what it is.”

For a moment, Cerise looked hopeful. Like she truly wanted to believe Alouette. Like she wanted to be the same person who had boarded this voyageur only a week ago. Confident. Optimistic. Bubbly. But a moment later, her gaze went glassy, and Alouette could swear she saw the hope seep right out of her. Then, in a vacant, haunted tone, Cerise said, “And yet we’re probably still all going to die out here.”

Alouette felt the threat of Cerise’s words sink into her. Like they were creating their own gravity, pulling her to the ground. Was she right? Would they never find a way home?

“Sometimes,” Alouette began, feeling her confidence falter, “it’s our intentions that mean more than the results.” It was the kind of thing Sister Jacqui would say, and it made her long for her favorite sister more than ever.

“Maybe,” Cerise replied glumly. “But my intentions are not going to save Gabriel’s life. And I’m sorry to say, neither are yours.”

Alouette was at a loss for words. She wanted so badly to comfort Cerise. To comfort herself. To tell them both it would all be okay. Gabriel would live. They would find a way to evade the Albion warships and they would get home in time to stop the general. But she couldn’t say any of those things.

For the first time in her life, she felt words fail her.

Like the world was forgetting them all over again.

She glanced down at a smudge of egg yolk starting to harden on the counter. And suddenly, all she could focus on was that stain. She bent down, grabbed the fallen sponge from the floor, and attacked the stain with the strength and devotion of a soldier taking on an insurgent army. She scrubbed and scrubbed and scrubbed until her knuckles ached. Until she felt Cerise’s gentle hand land on hers.

“Hey,” Cerise whispered, carefully prying the sponge from Alouette’s grip. “It’s okay. You don’t have to do that. I’ll finish cleaning.”

Alouette started to protest. “But I—”

“I know.” Cerise’s smile was warm and fleeting and unexpected. “But it’s my mess. I should be the one to clean it up.”

* * *

Alouette needed to walk. To pace. To move. She was used to being in confined spaces. The Refuge wasn’t much bigger than this ship. But she’d never, in her entire life, felt more trapped than she did right now.

“Are you okay?” a voice asked. She looked up to see Marcellus sitting at one of the tables in the viewing lounge with Dr. Collins’s canister positioned on the chair next to him, like he was afraid to let it out of his sight.

She tried for a deep breath. “I’m …” She still couldn’t find the words.

But it turned out, she didn’t need them. “I know.” Marcellus exhaled. “Me too.”

Alouette had never seen him look so drained. So defeated. The events of the last few days had left his face gaunt and his vibrant hazel eyes hollow and haunted.

“I’m going out of my mind,” he said. “I hate just sitting here while Gabriel gets worse and