aboard!” a voice called out. “Close the hatch. Prepare for liftoff.”
“Watch out!” someone else shouted.
BOOOOOMMM!
Another explosif hit the roof. The ship juddered. Debris erupted like upside down rain. A huge object came flying toward Chatine. She ducked as it disappeared into the thick smoke.
Then, to her horror, the ship’s loading ramp began to retract.
“It’s leaving!” Roche screamed, and they sprinted faster toward the ship. But a few seconds later, Chatine’s foot caught on something and she went down again, landing painfully on her injured knee. She bit back a horrendous scream that bubbled up in her throat. But then, as she looked down to see what she had tripped over, she suddenly understood what she had ducked only moments ago. And the scream finally broke free.
It was a body.
A very dead body.
And there was something familiar about her face.…
Another streak of fire tore across the sky, and the world around her exploded in a dizzying blaze of light.
“Chatine!” Roche cried again from somewhere in the chaos. Chatine scrambled back to her feet. Her outstretched hand found Roche’s, and they raced toward the hatch of the ship, which was now just a shrinking patch of light in the smoke.
And it was slowly rising.
The door was closing, and the ship was taking off.
They charged forward and pulled to a halt directly below the rising craft. Thinking fast, Chatine positioned herself behind Roche and locked her grip into a makeshift step. “I’m going to hoist you up!” she shouted over the noise, the whipping wind and blazing fires. “Once you’re on, you can reach down and pull me in.”
He nodded and tucked one foot into her hands. Chatine peered up at the ascending ship. Bracing against the pain in her leg, she prepared to thrust Roche upward.
“Ready? One, two …”
But she never got to three. Because the moment her gaze traveled back down to Roche and her eyes landed on his bare left shoulder, her whole body—legs, arms, heart, lungs, everything—froze.
For a full second, the world became silent.
And still.
And infinite.
A vacuum of time and space.
Until all that was left was Chatine and a small raindrop-shaped birthmark on the back of Roche’s shoulder.
His birthmark.
His shoulder.
Her mind emptied, apart from one endlessly looping thought:
It’s impossible.
It’s impossible.
It’s—
“Chatine!” Roche was screaming at her. She blinked and focused back on his face.
His face?
It’s impossible.
“The ship!”
Chatine shook herself out of her trance and looked up. The small patch of light had picked up speed. The ship was now a few mètres above their heads. It was rising too fast. They weren’t going to make it.
No, Chatine thought with a ferocious determination that stemmed from the deepest parts of her subconscious.
I’m not going to make it.
“Go!” she shouted. Then, with all the strength she could muster, she launched Roche into the air.
BOOOOOMMM!
Another explosif fell from the sky and imploded in a fiery cloud that sent Chatine flying backward. It seemed to take forever for her to land, but once she did, the pain in her left leg reverberated even louder than the blast. She swallowed down a scream as her gaze shot upward, back toward the Vangarde ship. Her chest squeezed when she saw that Roche had gripped onto the frame of the rapidly closing door and was now dangling there as the ship continued its ascent into the sky.
Panic hurtled through Chatine as she helplessly watched Roche’s spindly legs swing back and forth, his hands struggling to gain purchase.
Please. She said one more final prayer to the Sols. The Sols that had always been invisible to her. That had always seemed too far away to do any good. But now, she felt they were closer than ever. They had heard her prayers. They had brought her little brother back to her. Even if just for a moment.
And evidently, they were still listening, because just then, a pair of hands reached out from the door of the ship and grabbed Roche by the shoulders. Chatine collapsed in relief as she watched his body disappear through the narrowing sliver of light, just before the door closed completely.
Only then did she dare look down at what was left of her leg.
Only then did she see how bad the wound really was.
And only then did she allow herself to pass out.
- CHAPTER 17 - MARCELLUS
“ONE SHIP STILL DETECTED,” CAPITAINE Moreau’s voice cut through the tense silence in the warden’s office. The view from the cockpit cam, as Moreau’s combatteur slowly circled above the wreckage of the Trésor tower, showed nothing but smoke.
Marcellus’s gaze