Between Burning Worlds (System Divine #2) - Jessica Brody Page 0,244

to the ground as another. Something had shifted inside her, and everything was now reforming, reshaping, evolving. Who she was. Where she came from. What she was capable of.

She was still Alouette Taureau, the girl who’d been saved and loved by a convict named Jean LeGrand. She was still the Little Lark, too, the girl who’d been raised, nurtured, and trained by the Sisterhood. But she’d flown beyond those names now. There was something new brewing inside her. Beginning to emerge.

These half-formed and dream-like thoughts cycled through Alouette’s mind as the elevator finally touched down and its door clanged open. She stepped out, and for a second, gazed up at the vast TéléSky. The stars blinked and sparkled in the blackness.

She thought of the world beyond Ledôme, where shimmering starlight like this was never seen. Where the clouds blanketed everything, offering only rain and dampness and never-ending gray. Where people lived in the rusting remains of old freightships. Where the stomachs of children growled and girls sold their blood for a few extra largs.

The discrepancy, the inequality, and the injustice of this twisted and wrenched deep inside Alouette. But the feeling was quickly replaced by another. This one was stronger. More profound. Rooted into the very core of who she was.

It was the feeling of resolve.

She reached down, into the collar of her uniform, and pulled out her devotion beads. Her last remaining link to the sisters who’d raised her. The women who’d trained her. The rebels who’d made her who she was.

The sudden sound of footsteps on gravel cut off her thoughts. Before Alouette could turn to see who was approaching, someone grabbed her arms and pinned them behind her back.

Instantly her body electrified. She could feel every nerve and sinew inside her switching on. Her mind went calm like a lake and her breath stilled to almost nothing.

Elevate the Meek, she thought, as she prepared to move into a twisting lunge.

But the blow to her head came a moment later, spiraling her vision into darkness. She felt the ground come rushing toward her. She felt her chin knock against the stone. And just before the stars twinkled out completely, she heard a gruff voice say, “Madeline Villette. Somehow I just can’t seem to get rid of you.”

- CHAPTER 76 - MARCELLUS

THE WOMAN WHO STOOD BEFORE them in the small vestibule was wiry, gray-haired, and wearing a long plain tunic. With flinty eyes, she peered at Marcellus and Chatine over a pair of half-moon glasses. Marcellus guessed, from Alouette’s descriptions and stories about the sisters, that this must be Francine, the Principale of the Refuge.

“He needs help,” Chatine blurted out. “We were told we could—”

“Yes,” Francine said, ushering them inside. “This way. We’ll get you to the infirmerie. Sister Laurel will be back soon.”

They followed the woman down a long, dimly lit corridor. The bedrock walls were unadorned, and the floors were plain but immaculately polished. Through a few of the open doors, Marcellus could see bedrooms containing little more than a neatly made bed and a small nightstand.

Everything was so simple and neat.

So silent and calm.

A refuge from the boisterous, unraveling planet above.

He still couldn’t wrap his head around the fact that anyone was here. He’d been so certain the Vangarde were dead. And yet, here he was, being led through their secret base by one of their leaders. And that woman at the banquet had said she’d brought operatives with her.

“Sister Laurel,” Marcellus repeated the name, remembering the way the woman had fought with the same familiar grace and relaxed ease as he’d observed Alouette do in Inspecteur Limier’s memory file. “Why was she at the banquet? Did you know what the general was planning?”

Francine slowed her pace slightly and shook her head. “No. When the Ascension was rescheduled, and it was announced that fifty winners would be chosen, we were understandably suspicious of something. So we sent Sister Laurel and a team of operatives to investigate. We never expected …” She cleared her throat, sounding grieved. “It is awful what has transpired tonight.”

“That was the weapon the general has been working on.” The words exploded out of Marcellus. It felt like he’d been waiting years to say them. Ever since Mabelle had first recruited him in that leaky, dilapidated cabin at the copper exploit, pleading with him to find out more about the weapon. “That’s what Denise was trying to stop. It’s a program that reverses the neuroelectricity to the Skins so the general can force