Between Burning Worlds (System Divine #2) - Jessica Brody Page 0,192

finally reached the dial.

The ship leveled off, and the horizon came back into view. But Chatine’s stomach felt like it was still stuck in the incline.

“Okay,” Etienne said, regathering his composure. “Okay. Everything’s fine. No need to panic. You’re doing great.”

“Merci,” Chatine replied bitterly. It was the first time Etienne had doled out even a hint of a compliment since they’d started this lesson.

“I was talking to Marilyn,” Etienne said.

Chatine rolled her eyes. “Of course you were.”

“Okay, now, have you checked your altitude monitor recently?”

She sighed. “Yes. Five seconds ago.”

“Check it again.”

Chatine pulled her gaze from the cockpit window and peered at the monitor just to the left of the contrôleur. “One point seven kilomètres,” she announced.

“Too low. Way too low. Increase altitude immediately.”

“But I like this view,” Chatine complained. “I can’t see anything from up there.”

At this altitude she was just low enough to see through the patches of low-hanging clouds and make out the patterns and details of the craggy rocks, straggly bushes, and lakes of ice. She’d had no idea how truly fascinating the Terrain Perdu was.

“This isn’t about the view,” Etienne said sharply. “You can stare at the view all you want from the camp. This is about safety. What’s the number one rule of flying?”

Chatine snickered. “No one flies Marilyn but you?”

Etienne shot her a sharp look. “Fine. What’s the number two rule of flying.”

“There is no number two rule,” she parroted from their first flight together. “Rule number one is everything.” Chatine struggled to keep a straight face, but Etienne was too much fun to tease. And the way his jaw muscles were tensing right now just made it all that more rewarding.

She reached over and poked his cheek. “Aha! Looks like you have some buttons of your own.”

He swatted her hand away. “Let’s just focus on your buttons.” His face seemed to flush with embarrassment for a moment, and he quickly amended his statement. “I mean, the buttons in front of you. The ship’s buttons.”

Chatine chuckled, keeping her hands locked on the contrôleur.

Etienne cleared his throat and was all seriousness again. “The number three rule is to maintain altitude at all times. You can’t always rely on stealth mode. It can fail. Which is why cloud coverage is our friend. It keeps us safe and hidden.” He gave a curt nod of his head. “Or as we like to say, ‘You fly high. You stay dry.’ ”

“Nothing on Laterre stays dry,” Chatine pointed out.

Etienne huffed. “It means you stay hidden.”

“Why don’t you just say, ‘You fly high. You stay hidden.’ ”

“Because it doesn’t rhyme.”

“Why does it have to rhyme?”

“Because—” Etienne stopped himself and took a breath. “Just stop talking and increase altitude.”

Chatine shrugged and wrenched another dial. The ship shot up into the air in a heartbeat, causing Etienne to yelp.

“Too fast! Way too fast!”

Chatine tried to compensate with the contrôleur, plunging it downward. The ship started to dive back down toward the ground.

“Pull up! Pull up!” Etienne shouted.

“Are you talking to me or Marilyn this time?”

“YOU!”

Chatine eased up on the contrôleur, leveling off the ship at three kilomètres. She couldn’t help the satisfied smile on her face. “That was a good button. I’ll have to remember where that one was.”

“That’s it,” Etienne said, unbuckling his restraint and standing up. “Get up. You’re done. Flying lessons are over. This was a bad idea. You are not taking this seriously. You do not deserve to fly this ship.”

“Okay, okay. Calm down.” She surrendered her hands up and the ship started to pitch forward.

“Hands on the contrôleur!” Etienne barked.

Chatine dove for the contrôleur. “Sorry. Sit down. I’ll stop fooling around.”

Reluctantly, Etienne lowered back into his seat. The cockpit fell quiet, with only the soft purring sound of Marilyn’s engine between them. Chatine glanced at Etienne out of the corner of her eye. He was as still as a statue, his gaze locked on her hands guiding his precious ship.

“Why did you agree to give me flying lessons, anyway?” Chatine asked.

Etienne’s head snapped up, as though he were being awoken from a dream. “What?”

Chatine kept her eyes on the seemingly endless horizon. “You could have turned me in. Or kicked me out for being a thief. But instead, you told no one about me or my parents, you helped me steal zyttrium, and then you offered to teach me to fly.”

“Are you still a thief?” he asked.

Chatine hesitated. Not because she didn’t want to tell Etienne the truth, but because she did want to. She just needed a