Between Burning Worlds (System Divine #2) - Jessica Brody Page 0,4

the curves and loops with his fingertips, until slowly, the memories of learning those letters came back to him, like lost lyrics. Once you start humming the first verse, the entire song suddenly reappears in your mind.

Perhaps the Forgotten Word was not so easily forgotten to him.

“Well, you’re here. That’s what matters,” Mabelle said, taking his hand in hers. Her hand, which once swallowed his own, now felt impossibly small. But it was warm. The only warm thing in this whole miserable place.

Marcellus nodded, trying to pull comfort from Mabelle’s words. The truth was, he wished he’d gotten that message sooner, decoded it faster. They’d already lost so much time. General Bonnefaçon had already caused so much unrest and upheaval and … death. The Premier Enfant—little Marie Paresse—on a one-way trip to Sol 2. Nadette Epernay, who was framed—and executed—for Marie’s murder. Who was next? How many more lives would the general sacrifice in his quest for power?

“I watched the footage,” Marcellus said, feeling the now-familiar rage well up inside of him. “The proof that my father was innocent in the bombing of this exploit seventeen years ago. I found the microcam in the painting in your old room at the Grand Palais, just where you said it would be. I know Julien Bonnefaçon was framed and that my grandfather and the former Patriarche were the ones behind the attack.”

Mabelle nodded. “I’m glad you’ve finally seen the truth.”

“We have to stop him,” Marcellus said urgently. “Not just stop him. Destroy him. He betrayed me. He betrayed my father. He betrayed everyone on this planet. He must be brought down.”

He took a deep breath and then finally said the words that had been running through his mind for the past two weeks. Maybe even for his entire life. Maybe they’d always been there. Buried deep inside his DNA. Calling out to him from his very veins. Just waiting for him to wake up and hear them. “I want to join the Vangarde.”

A flicker of pride passed over Mabelle’s face, but it was quickly replaced by a grave, warning look. “Marcellus, this is a very important decision that you should not take lightly. Joining us is a dangerous choice. It will put everything you know and love in danger. Your home. Your job. Your family.”

“I don’t have a family,” Marcellus snapped. “My father died trying to fight for the right side. And my mother died mourning him. You are my only family. And as for my home and my job? I don’t care about any of it anymore. The Regime, the Ministère, my promotion to commandeur, that cursed officer uniform. I’m done with all of it. I’m done being the general’s dutiful, doting protégé. I’m done following in his footsteps. It’s time I follow in the right footsteps. The ones I should have followed all along.”

Mabelle looked at him with deep, pitying eyes. “Marcellus, joining the Vangarde won’t bring your father back.”

Marcellus stood up, his hands clenched by his sides. “I’m not doing this to bring my father back. I’m doing this to honor his memory.” He nodded toward the rickety door that led to what was left of the copper exploit. “To honor all of their memories. I’m doing this to defeat the general. I want to pick up where my father left off. I’m ready now. I’ll fight. I’ll run messages. I’ll recruit. I’ll travel across the System Divine. Usonia, Kaishi, Reichenstat, wherever the Vangarde wants to send me. I’ll leave the Palais tomorrow. I’ll—”

“Marcellou.” Mabelle held up a hand to stop him, looking slightly pained. “You don’t understand. We don’t want you to do any of that.”

Marcellus squinted, confused. And just a little bit panicked. It had never even occurred to him that the Vangarde might turn him down. “But you said in Montfer … You said when I’ve seen the truth that I should come to you. That I could join you.”

“Yes, that’s true. We do need you, Marcellus. But not on the outside.”

His confusion quickly gave way to dread. He suddenly felt nauseous. Sick. Cold. He shook his head. “No. I can’t. I—”

“You’re the only one who can get close to him.”

Marcellus clawed his fingers through his hair, letting Mabelle’s words sink in. “You want me to go back there? You want me to be in the same room as him and pretend that nothing happened? That he’s innocent? I can’t just go back to being blind.”

“Not blind,” Mabelle corrected. “The opposite of blind. Your eyes are