Between Burning Worlds (System Divine #2) - Jessica Brody Page 0,187

was staring into the barrel of a rayonette set to kill.

“No,” he said, his voice shattering as quickly and violently as their voyageur had only moments ago. “No!” He banged his fist against the wall of the escape pod. “What are we going to do now? How are we going to stop him? We have nothing. No plan. No hope. No inhibitor.”

“And it looks like no navigation, either,” Cerise said somberly, poking at the flight controls. “The fire must have damaged the system.”

“What does that mean?” Alouette asked, dread clawing at her voice.

“It means I have no way of controlling our landing. We’re at the mercy of Laterre’s gravity and winds now.”

Marcellus leaned his head back against his jump seat and closed his eyes. Alouette could see his lips moving, like he was murmuring something under his breath. A prayer to the Sols, perhaps? Alouette turned toward Gabriel, who was passed out in the seat across from her. Unconscious. Near death.

She took deep, calming breaths, trying to tell herself that this, too, would be okay. This, too, they would survive. Just like they’d survived every catastrophe before this, against all odds.

They were still here. Injured and weary and bleeding, but still alive.

That had to count for something, right?

Outside the window of the pod, the nothingness and uncertainty of the Laterrian sky spread out around them. Thick gray clouds that seemed to go on forever, consuming everything. And for just a moment, Alouette wondered if they would ever touch the ground. If maybe they would just float in this misty limbo forever.

Suddenly, all she could think about was everything she’d left behind on that ship. Her mother’s titan box, her screwdriver, the sisters’ compendium of reports. They were all just things, Alouette knew that. Nowhere near as important as a human life. But she still felt the ache of their loss just the same.

That titan box was the only thing she’d had left of her mother. Her screwdriver had been a gift from Sister Denise. And Principale Francine had entrusted her with those reports—that small slice of Vangarde history. And now it was all nothing but space dust.

Something hammered against the sides of the pod, pulling Alouette’s attention back to the window, which was now covered in tiny droplets of water. The soft gray blanket around them had turned dark and sinister as they’d continued their slow, undulating descent toward the ground. Then, moments later, light flooded the small pod and Alouette could suddenly see Laterre’s great landmass stretching out below.

Squinting through the rain-splattered plastique, she could make out uneven terrain with patches of slick, foreboding ice and clusters of rocky outcrops. It wasn’t until the ground drew closer that she realized where they were. And her heart nearly thudded to a stop. She recognized this unforgiving landscape. She’d read about it in the Chronicles.

It was a place no one survived.

Despite the parachute slowing their descent, their landing was hard. Rough. Jolting. The underbelly of the pod smacked down on the frozen tundra with a force so strong, it felt as though every bone and nerve in Alouette’s body clashed and collided against one another. They slid along the slick surface of the ground before crashing into a jagged, jutting rock and finally skidding to a halt.

Alouette kept her gaze locked on the window, as though staring at their surroundings might possibly change them. Might possibly reverse time, change the direction of the winds, deliver them any place but here.

“This doesn’t look good,” croaked a voice, and everyone turned to see that Gabriel was awake, staring wide-eyed and slack-jawed at the barrenness outside the window.

“No,” Marcellus agreed quietly, and when Alouette peered over at him, she saw that his face looked hopeless and defeated. “This is definitely not good.”

Alouette’s head fell back against the headrest in despair, just as the Terrain Perdu winds started to howl and pummel against the shell of their lonely, battered escape pod.

- CHAPTER 55 - MARCELLUS

THE TINY SPARK CRACKLED IN the wet morning air before immediately fizzling out. Marcellus cursed quietly under his breath and struck the small rock against the PermaSteel bolt again. His arms were tired, and he could barely feel his fingers anymore.

“Don’t worry,” he said to Gabriel through chattering teeth. “Just a few more seconds and I’ll have this thing going and all of our troubles will be over.”

It was a lie, of course.

Everything out of his mouth for the past three hours had been a lie.

“We’ll be rescued.”

“We’ll find an AirLink