Between Burning Worlds (System Divine #2) - Jessica Brody Page 0,246

at her frail, brittle body now, it felt unlikely.

“Bastille was not kind to her,” Francine said. “And the tincture we gave her to slow her heart so she would be transferred to the morgue nearly killed her. We almost lost her on the journey home. Laurel had to induce a coma to keep her stable until she recovered. But our dear sister has finally returned to us. And soon, when her vitals are stronger, we will be able to wake her and finish what we started.”

“You mean the ship made it back?” Chatine asked, her voice was quiet, almost wary, as though she were afraid the answer might destroy her.

“Yes,” Francine said. “The stealth mode helped complete the illusion of the Ministère’s victory. However, our pilote was injured by an explosif shortly before we took off. She managed to get us back safely to Laterre, and we did everything we could for her here. But we lost her the very next day.”

Marcellus pressed his fingertips into his temples trying to make sense of everything. That ship he’d seen on Bastille hadn’t been blown out of the sky. It had taken off. It had made it back here.

With Citizen Rousseau inside.

But Marcellus could hardly process his own reaction to this news, because he was too busy trying to interpret Chatine’s. Tears were swimming in her eyes, and a sob of what could only be described as life-altering relief seemed to shudder through her.

Chatine wiped at her wet cheeks. “If the ship made it back, then that means—”

“Did you know the First World had only one Sol?”

Marcellus, Chatine, and Francine all turned at once to see a boy standing in the hallway with a half-eaten apple in one hand and an open book in the other.

When the boy’s gaze landed on Chatine, his lips curved into a wide grin. “Hey, you’re here! Isn’t this place soop? They have much better food than on Bastille, and they’re teaching me to read the Forgotten Word!”

“Henri!” In a heartbeat, Chatine was running at supervoyage speed. She crashed into the boy and wrapped her arms so tightly around him, Marcellus honestly couldn’t tell if she meant to embrace him or suffocate him.

The boy seemed slightly confused by her reaction. He patted her awkwardly on the shoulder. “Um, it’s nice to see you, too.” Then, after a moment, and another noisy bite of apple, his eyebrows shot up. “Wait a minute. Who’s Henri?”

Chatine laughed and squeezed him tighter. For a long time, they just stood like that. The boy eating his apple and Chatine clutching his skinny body to hers, like she might never let go. But the sound of a heavy metal door clanging shut a moment later broke all of them from their trances.

Marcellus peered down the low-lit hallway to see Sister Laurel moving steadily toward them. She was still dressed in her bloodied and ripped sergent’s uniform.

He looked to her with hope brimming in his eyes. “Did you find her? Did you find Alouette?”

She shot a brief, indecipherable glance at Francine before replying, “Not yet. But my operatives are still looking. We will—”

Marcellus didn’t even allow her to finish. He was already on the move, already charging down the Refuge hallway, back toward that heavy PermaSteel door. He could feel Sister Laurel’s temporary médicaments wearing off and the pain and nausea creeping back in, but he didn’t care. He couldn’t just sit down here and wait while she was still out there.

“Marcellus!” Footsteps pounded after him, but he didn’t stop. Couldn’t stop. Something sharp and throbbing stabbed at his side. He doubled over as a groan clawed its way up his throat.

Suddenly, Sister Laurel was in front of him. Her kind, dark eyes staring intensely into his. “You need help. Your ribs might be broken. You still have a lethal paralyzeur pulse in your shoulder. You need medical attention. You cannot go out there.”

“But …” He tried to speak. Every syllable, every breath was an agonizing effort that drained him. “Alouette.”

“I know you’re worried about her,” Sister Laurel said. “So are we. But take a breath and really think this through. Do you really think you’re in any condition to go searching for her right now?”

Marcellus turned from her, his eyes falling on the small vestibule at the end of the hallway. The door that stood between him and the outside world.

“We will find her,” Sister Laurel promised, her voice stern and heartbreakingly earnest. “Let my operatives do their job. And let me treat