Between Burning Worlds

by Jessica Brody

  “No, you’re not.” Her eyes blazed with a familiar, fierce determination. Familiar because he’d seen it on his own face. Every time he looked in the mirror. It was a sensation he knew all too well. A determination he was confident would either save Laterre from certain death or plunge them all straight into it. “I’m coming with you.”

  - CHAPTER 28 - CHATINE

  “NO.” CHATINE STARED IN HORROR at the desolate, frozen landscape that stretched out for kilomètres around Etienne’s ship. “No way. Take me back to Vallonay. Or Montfer. Or the Southern Peninsula. Anywhere. I am not going to a Défecteur camp.”

  “Uh, I don’t think you have a choice. And besides, that leg of yours needs immediate attention. It’s not going to stay warm and tingly like that forever. The shrapnel dug itself in there pretty bad. If you don’t get it taken care of, you’re looking at a one-legged future.”

  “Oh, so not only do you live in the Terrain Perdu, you have a med center out here too?” Chatine asked skeptically.

  Etienne scoffed at this. “Med centers are useless. We have something better.”

  “I’m afraid to ask.”

  “Healers.”

  Chatine scowled. “What is a healer?”

  “A healer treats the body as a whole, instead of relying solely on médicaments and invasive procedures to fix the individual parts. And my maman happens to the best healer in our community.”

  “You’re kidding, right?” Chatine glanced at Etienne’s sober expression. “You’re not kidding.”

  Etienne eased on the contrôleur until the ship glided to a halt just above the ground. Lakes of ice, blankets of rigid grass, spindly bushes, and jagged, misshapen rocks stretched out in front of them for kilomètres. The same monotonous and unchanging pattern as far as Chatine could see.

  “Here we are!” he said, making a sweeping gesture toward the front window. “Home sweet home.”

  Chatine glanced out again. All she saw was deserted, frozen wilderness.

  “I don’t see anything.”

  Etienne turned to her with panicked eyes. “You don’t?! Are you sure?! It’s right there!”

  Anxiety trickled through Chatine’s stomach. She turned back and stared out the cockpit window. She blinked a few times, but still saw nothing.

  “No!” she said. “I don’t see anything! Did that stupide goldenroot you gave me do something to my vision? I knew I shouldn’t have trusted a dropout Defect—”

  Etienne laughed. “Relax, I’m kidding. Do you honestly think we’d be able to survive out here for this long by living in plain sight? But on the bright side, looks like I found your panic button.”

  Chatine jabbed a fist out to punch him in the side, but he was too quick, ducking just out of her reach.

  Etienne dipped the ship’s contrôleur, and Chatine was thrust forward in her harness as they careened down a sharp incline. Suddenly, a cluster of metallic structures seemed to emerge from the frozen nothingness. The small, flat-roofed buildings were connected by crisscrossing walkways, each shielded by a similar flat roof that was held up by narrow stilts.

  They reached the bottom of the slope, and Chatine gazed in astonishment at the scattering of buildings. Invisible one second and there the next.

  “Stealth technology isn’t just for ships,” Etienne said, reading her expression.

  He steered them into a wide open-mouthed hangar that was cut into the side of the slope and flipped a single switch on the console. Slowly the engines grew still and quiet. Then he jabbed a button over his head, and a door appeared in one of the walls, which then folded over itself to form a short set of stairs.

  “Primary hatch deployed,” Marilyn announced.

  Chatine instantly shivered as the cold air of the hangar rushed inside the ship, slapping against her arms and face. Etienne began to make his way toward the stairs but stopped when he noticed that Chatine hadn’t moved.

  “Are you coming? Do you need help? I can carry you. I’d rather not, but I will.”

  Chatine gripped on to her harness. “No way. I am not stepping foot inside a camp full of Défecteurs. I’ve never trusted you people, and now I know why. You’re insane. You can’t live in the Terrain Perdu. No one can live in the Terrain Perdu. That’s why people call it Dead Man’s Land! Everyone dies there!”

  Etienne shrugged. “Fine. Suit yourself.” He continued toward the stairs but stopped again a moment later, as though remembering something. He opened up a small compartment next to the hatch; pulled out a strange, palm-sized device; and tossed it to Chatine, who just barely managed to catch it. She studied it with curiosity. On one end was a crooked antenna, while the other end sported a scuffed dial next to a clunky red button.

  “Radio me when you change your mind and want me to come get you.”

  “I’m not going to change my mind.”

  He smiled. “Okay, I’ll rephrase. Radio me when the goldenroot wears off.”

  Then, with a knowing raise of his brow, Etienne hopped down the steps of the hatch door and disappeared into the hangar.

  The moment he was out of view, Chatine leapt into action. She tossed the device to the side, unbuckled her harness, and hobbled over to the capitaine’s chair, sweeping her gaze over the giant console.

  “Okay,” she whispered to herself. “You can do this. It’s just a stupide Défecteur ship. It can’t be that complicated.” She just had to find the right control, engage the engines, and fly the fric out of there.

  She pinched one of the levers between her fingers and flicked it upward. Nothing happened. She toggled it back and forth, but the engine remained quiet. She eyed a second, nearly identical switch, three centimètres to the left, and gave it a swift flick.

  A loud blaring siren rang out across the ship. Chatine startled and scrambled away from the console, stumbling over her injured leg and falling backward.

  “Owww!” she cried as lights along the baseboards began to flash fierce and red.

  Then, came a voice.

  “Intruder aboard. Intruder aboard.”

  Her mouth fell open. The wretched ship was ratting her out. That mouchard!

  “You know,” she muttered aloud. “Where I come from, you can lose a few toes for being a snitch.”

  Suddenly, everything halted. The flashing lights flickered off. The alarm fell silent.

  “Will you stop trying to steal my ship and just come out of there already?”

  Chatine jumped and spun around, ready to face off with the pilote again, but there was no one there.

  “Marilyn is never going to let you fly her. Only I know how to start that ship.”

  The voice was coming from somewhere behind her. And it was only now she noticed that there was a scratchiness to it. A crackle. Her gaze landed on the strange, antennaed device lying in the center of the cockpit. She crept forward and cautiously poked at it.

  “Have you had enough of your antics?”

  With a squeak, she retracted her finger.

  “How are you doing that?” she asked the box.

  The box let out a sigh. “Press the red button.”

  She glanced around the cockpit. “The red button?”

  “On the radio,” Etienne said, sounding impatient and just the tiniest bit amused. It made Chatine’s hackles rise. “It shouldn’t be hard for you. You’re familiar with buttons, right?”

  There was a snicker and Chatine wanted to snatch up the device and throw it out the hatch. But instead, she picked it up and pressed down tentatively on the button. “Hello?”

  “So, now that you’ve figured out that Marilyn’s anti-theft system is impenetrable, are you ready to come out?”

  “No,” she said stubbornly.

  “So you’re just going to sit out there all day and night? Even when the temperature drops?”

  She lowered back down into the capitaine’s chair. “Yes.”

  Etienne didn’t reply. And Chatine commended herself for winning the argument. But then, not a full minute later, she felt some
thing sharp and stabbing in her left leg, right where the shrapnel had hit her. It was like nothing she’d ever experienced before. A searing pain that seemed to ricochet through her body, faster than a paralyzeur pulse from a rayonette. The warm, tingling sensation in her leg waned, and all that was left in its place was pure, unbearable anguish.

  Chatine let out a scream that echoed around the small cockpit, out the open hatch, and deep into the silent hangar. The pain was all-consuming. It blurred her vision and screeched in her ears. It seemed to go on so long, Chatine could swear an entire season had passed on Laterre. They were no longer in the Darkest Night. They had entered the Blue Dawn. And yet, the pain was still there.

  Finally, the radio crackled again, and she felt boundless relief when Etienne said, “That’s it. I’m coming to get you.”

  - CHAPTER 29 - ALOUETTE

  “ARRIVAL AT MONTFER SPACEPORT IN five minutes,” the cruiseur announced before banking sharply and descending through the drizzly air. Alouette pressed her nose to the window as the last remaining traces of the boglands rushed past. The morning Sols shone behind the clouds above, turning them into a vast glowing blanket of gray, and up ahead, Alouette could see the city of Montfer waking up.

  Tears stung her eyes, blurring her reflection in the cruiseur’s plastique windows. She couldn’t stop thinking about what Marcellus had told her in the Tourbay.

  The sisters’ plan had failed.

  Citizen Rousseau was dead.

  Along with who else?

  No. Don’t think like that. She hastily wiped her eyes and forced the morbid thoughts from her mind. She couldn’t afford to think like that. They were heading to an enemy planet to track down Denise’s source and stop the general from unleashing some disastrous weapon. She had to stay focused. Stay sharp. Stay positive.

  “So, you’re really going through with this?” The voice belonged to Gabriel. It ripped Alouette from her thoughts and the window.

  “Yes,” said Cerise, peering over the top of her TéléCom. “I’ve already made all the arrangements.”

  Gabriel darted a look at Alouette. “Fine. I guess that means I’ll have to come too.”

  Cerise lowered her TéléCom, looking suspicious. “Why? You just said you thought we were all insane.”

  “Yes. And that’s exactly why I have to go. You pampered idiots have no idea what you’re getting into. You’re going to get yourselves killed. I’m your best chance at survival.”

  “So, you are going to help us stop the general?” Cerise confirmed. She didn’t sound convinced. And to be honest, Alouette wasn’t convinced either.

  “Yes,” Gabriel said, folding his arms over his chest.

  “You are going to help save the planet.”

  “Is that so hard for you to believe?” Gabriel challenged.

  “Yes.”

  “Gabriel,” Alouette said gently. She had a feeling he was hiding something from them, she just wasn’t sure what it was. “You don’t have to do this.”

  Gabriel uncrossed his arms and began to fidget with the edge of the seat. “I know. I want to do it.” He shot Alouette a look that she interpreted as, just let it go.

  “Okay,” she said. “Well, I’m glad you’re coming.”

  “Me too,” he said hastily before turning toward the window, clearly avoiding her gaze.

  The cruiseur banked again, and the spaceport loomed into view. In the early morning, it was a collage of shadows, tiny blinking lights, and dark shapes extending far into the distance. But Alouette could easily make out the terminal, a massive egg-shaped hangar at the center of the complex. Even under the gloomy skies, the great dome seemed to shimmer and shine. A moment later, there was a sudden burst of light from the rear side of the port, and in a cascade of rumbles and smoke, a voyageur shot up toward the sky. As it tore through Laterre’s layer of constant clouds, Alouette imagined she could see a glimpse of the stars above.

  Stars that, in just a few hours, she would see up close.

  Stars that would soon surround her in infinite space.

  “Okay,” Cerise said, setting down her TéléCom. “The voyageur is all ready to go. As soon as we’re onboard, we’ll send a message to the source on Albion to request the coordinates for a meeting.”

  Marcellus nodded pensively, his eyes never leaving the window. Alouette felt a rush of anticipation. They were really doing this. They were really going to Albion. Alouette never thought she’d ever get to travel to another planet, let alone Laterre’s longest-standing enemy.

  “All right! This is it. Here we go.” Gabriel rubbed his hands together as though trying to warm them. “Now, I don’t want anyone to be nervous. People fly to other planets every single day. Just a normal occurrence. Voyageurs very rarely explode into fiery balls of light when leaving the atmosphere. There’s absolutely no reason to be scared.”

  “No one is scared but you,” Cerise deadpanned.

  Gabriel scoffed, which quickly turned into a cough. “Scared? Me? No way. I’ve been waiting my whole life to fly on one of those fancy voyageurs. Do you think they’ll serve gâteau? I’ve never had gâteau before. Or maybe duck paté? What does paté even taste like? I can’t say it sounds particularly appealing. Did you know that duck paté comes from Usonia? Why is that? Do they have a duck infestation problem there? Do ducks just roam about freely in those giant plastique bubbles? Like the chickens in the Marsh?”

  Cerise let out a groan. “Are you going to blab all the way to Albion? Because I’m not sure I can take five days of that.”

  Gabriel winked at Cerise. “Don’t worry, Sparkles. I’m an acquired taste. I imagine much like duck paté.”

  “If you don’t shut up, I’m not bringing you.”

  “Hold on,” Marcellus said, ripping his gaze from the window as though a thought had just occurred to him. “She’s right.”

  Gabriel scoffed again. “No, she’s not. Wait. About what?”

  “About bringing you. About bringing all of us. How do you expect to get us on that voyageur?” He gestured at Alouette, Gabriel, and himself. “We’re all wanted criminals now. It’s not like the three of us can just walk into the spaceport and board a ship.”

  Cerise flashed a crafty smile that, for some reason, made Alouette’s stomach flip. “Don’t worry. I’ve already thought of that.”

  Gabriel snorted. “What, are you going to smuggle us on in your luggage? Along with your collection of ridiculous hats?”

  Cerise’s eyes twinkled with mischief. “Actually …”

  Gabriel flinched. “I was joking.” He turned to Alouette. “She knows I was joking, right?”

  Cerise pulled her TéléCom out of her pocket and tapped on the screen. “Bonjour, ma chéri,” she crooned in a sickeningly sweet voice. “How is the son of Montfer’s esteemed inspecteur doing this morning?”

  “Who are you talking to?” Gabriel demanded before turning to Alouette. “Who is she talking to?”

  Cerise winked at Gabriel and whispered, “I have friends in very high places.”

  Gabriel rolled his eyes. “Of course she does.”

  Cerise focused back on her AirLink. “So, remember that favor you owe me?” She let out a playful chuckle at whatever was just said in response. “Right, so, here’s the deal. I’m going to be flying out with a very large shipment of cargo this morning, and I need some help getting it past security.”

  - CHAPTER 30 - MARCELLUS

  “LIFTOFF IN THIRTY SECONDS.” THE computerized voice of the autopilote system drifted through the cargo hold of the Galactique-class voyageur.

  Marcellus shivered. He had never been so cold in his life. The ice packs wedged tightly against his body were starting to make his skin burn. He could feel Alouette’s hand beside his, cold as the ground of the Terrain Perdu. And on his other side, Gabriel shivered so hard, it rattled the walls of the crate that surrounded them like a tomb.

  “Twenty-two, twenty-one, twenty …”

  “I can’t believe I let that sparkle-headed lun
atic talk us into this,” Gabriel whispered.

  “Shh,” said Marcellus.

  “They barely even checked the cargo,” Gabriel went on, undeterred. “She just did this to torture me.”

  When they’d arrived at the spaceport thirty minutes ago, Cerise had directed the cruiseur to the cargo-loading center, where they’d been met by a gregarious young man named Grantaire, the son of Montfer’s Policier inspecteur. According to Cerise, he was a fellow “sympathizeur,” but given Marcellus’s previous encounters with Policier inspecteurs, he had been hesitant to trust him. They hadn’t disclosed any details about what they were doing or why, but it hadn’t really mattered in the end. Marcellus had seen the look of recognition on Grantaire’s face the moment he’d first laid eyes on Marcellus. It was the same look Marcellus had seen on the face of that Red Scar guard in the Jondrette. He knew exactly who Marcellus was.

  Now Marcellus just had to hope that Cerise had been right to trust him.

  It had been Grantaire’s idea to pack Marcellus, Alouette, and Gabriel—the three fugitives—into a large shipping crate full of ice, in order to fool the body-heat scanners at the security checkpoint.

  And Marcellus was about as happy about the solution as Gabriel.

  “Body-heat scanners?” Gabriel snorted. “Yeah, right. They probably don’t even have body-heat scanners at that port.”

  “Shh!” came Alouette’s voice from Marcellus’s other side.

  “And that’s another thing,” Gabriel ranted. “Why are we still in here? There’s no one else on this ship!”

  Marcellus shivered again. The ice packs were creating condensation, and it was soaking through his coat.

  “Fifteen … fourteen … thirteen …”

  “She’s probably up there right now, sitting pretty on a sateen chaise and sipping champagne, while we’re down here freezing to death. Sols, I can’t stand that little—”

  “Ten … nine … eight …”

  Gabriel let out a small yelp but mercifully fell quiet.