Suns Will Rise (Volume 3) (System Divine, Band 3) - Hardcover

Über die Autorinnen und Autoren

Jessica Brody is the author of several popular novels for teens and tweens, including The Geography of Lost Things, 52 Reasons to Hate My Father, A Week of Mondays, Better You Than Me, and the Unremembered trilogy. She lives with her husband and four dogs near Portland, Oregon. Visit her online at JessicaBrody.com.

Joanne Rendell is the author of three novels and holds a PhD in English literature. She teaches fiction writing to teens and kids and is a board member for the youth Shakespeare company New Genesis Productions. With her husband and son, Joanne divides her time between New York City and New Paltz, New York. Visit Joanne at JoanneRendell.com.

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Chapter 1: Alouette

- CHAPTER 1 - ALOUETTE

ALOUETTE IMAGINED IT WAS LIGHT from the Sols. Beautiful flares of cobalt blue, golden white, and scarlet red. As the blinding spark pierced her vision, she bit back a scream, reminding herself that it was an illusion, a trick of the brain, nothing more than electrical signals telling her this was even worse than the last time. It was all in her mind. The light. The pain. The fire that burned her face. That’s why they did it. They were trying to break her mind. But they would not. The last thing Alouette would allow them to break was her mind.

The scream broke instead.

It charged out of her like a voyageur breaking atmosphere, like a planet exploding. Until all she could hear was that scream and all she could see was that light and all she could feel was that fire.

Then, she vomited. And it was over.

For now.

The inspecteur lowered the device and took a step back while Alouette caught her breath. She knew to take her time. It was the only reprieve she had—these precious moments between being unable to speak and being expected to.

“Where is he?” asked the cyborg in that chilling monotone. Even though it was the same question the inspecteur asked every day, it still sent a shiver of fear through Alouette. She wasn’t afraid of more pain. She’d almost gotten used to the pain. It was the fear that her body would eventually betray her. Her tongue would move on its own. Her lips would foolishly give away the only thing that was keeping her alive.

“Where is Marcellus Bonnefaçon?” the inspecteur said, raising the device again and waving it ominously toward Alouette’s neck. Alouette flinched and immediately reprimanded herself for it. The circuitry embedded in the left side of the cyborg’s face flickered with satisfaction. “This can all be over. This can all end tonight. All you have to do is tell us where he is and the pain will stop.”

Alouette gritted her teeth. The device moved closer. Alouette pressed her toes against the tops of her shoes and her wrists against the metal restraints, bearing down.

“Relax,” came a familiar voice in her mind. “The pain is worse when you fight it.”

The sharp prong of the device brushed her skin, and Alouette let her body fall limp against the chair. She heard a sizzle as the electricity hummed through her skin, locating the nerve at the base of her jaw.

And then it happened.

Her forehead exploded in flames. A million tiny daggers stabbed at her eyes. Her cheekbones felt as if they were being crushed by a droid’s unyielding metal fist. And inside her mouth, her tongue turned to scorching molten lava.

This time, however, Alouette was somehow able to contain her scream.

And the meager contents of her stomach.

The inspecteur stepped away, taking the pain with her. “Where is the general’s grandson?” she asked. If she was getting tired of the same routine day in and day out, she didn’t show it. Then again, cyborgs rarely showed any emotion.

“Don’t let them see the truth,” the voice reminded her. “Or they’ll have no reason to keep you alive.”

Alouette closed her eyes, gripping desperately to the clarity and comfort the voice brought her. She was so grateful to have it back in her life, even if she had to use her imagination to make the words sound real.

“Give it to me,” someone snarled from the other side of the room, and Alouette’s eyes shot open to see a figure emerging from the shadows. Had it been there the whole time? Watching?

“This farce has gone on long enough,” the figure said. “Who is running this facility, Inspecteur Champlain? You or her?”

The cyborg looked momentarily stunned by the rebuke. “I’m sorry, Monsieur. I’ve been trying. Every day. But she won’t talk.”

The figure snatched the device from the inspecteur’s hand and stepped into the single shaft of light affixed over Alouette’s head. But Alouette didn’t need the light to recognize him. She would recognize him in a dark room, with her eyes sewn shut, and her ears covered. She would recognize the feel of him. His energy was unlike any she’d ever known. It filled every centimètre of the room, forcing out all of the air.

“Perhaps it’s because she doesn’t actually know anything,” General Bonnefaçon said, his cool hazel eyes focused intently on Alouette. “Perhaps she’s been playing us for fools this whole time.”

And then, he was there. Towering over her. Glaring down at her like a hungry lion standing over an injured lamb.

No, Alouette reminded herself. I am the lion. He is the prey. He is more afraid of me than I am of him. That’s why I’m here.

The inspecteur took three paces back, as though Alouette might implode and she was afraid of getting hit by the debris. The general lowered himself into the chair opposite Alouette, his eyes never leaving hers.

She hadn’t seen him since the night he’d found her at the base of the Paresse Tower. She remembered the blow that came to her head, extinguishing all the stars in the sky. Then, she’d woken up here, in this dark place that knew no stars, no light, no hope of rescue. They were on an island not drawn on any maps, not marked on any TéléComs, invisible even to satellite imagery due to Laterre’s thick cloud coverage. Up until a few months ago, she hadn’t even known it existed.

“Madeline Villette,” the general began in a cold, chilling tone. It was the name her mother had given her. An unfamiliar name. A name that conjured up a past of running, hiding, of pretending to be someone else without even knowing it. “I am not pleased to be here today. There are so many other worthwhile things I would rather be doing. I had hoped this little problem would have been solved by now.” He flashed a look at Inspecteur Champlain, who was now hiding in the shadows. “And yet, here we are, more than three months later.”

Alouette felt something heavy and ominous slink into the pit of her stomach. If the general was here, if he was the one holding that device, that meant it was all over. She had strung them along for months and now her time was up.

“Sometimes,” the general went on, straightening the cuffs of his pristine white uniform, “it’s the small pebble in your shoe that ends up causing more disturbance in your life than the largest of boulders. You have been an inconvenience since the day you were born. And I see now that time hasn’t changed you at all.”

He stood up and began to pace behind his chair. “You should be resting with the Sols right now. You know it and I know it.” He stopped and snapped his gaze back to her. “But I think Inspecteur Champlain has underestimated you. I think you know exactly what you’re doing and why you’re still here.”

The chill of his words sent shivers of dread through Alouette. It was all over. He was onto her. Somehow Alouette had been able to fool the inspecteur all this time, but she couldn’t fool the general. Not anymore. He knew now that she didn’t have the slightest idea where Marcellus Bonnefaçon was. He knew that every...