by Kass Morgan
“This is my favorite spot,” Soren said, stepping out of the building and into the sprawling courtyard. She led Glass into the trees, among the orchard. “I come here to think. And to talk.”
Soren smiled at Glass in an encouraging way, as if to say that Glass should start this conversation. So she blurted the first question on her mind.
“Why did you pick me as your maid?”
Soren brightened. “Because you ask questions like that. You have an honest heart and a bold mouth. But more than that…” She turned away, peering up at the light filtering from between the branches of the trees. “I like the way your mind works.”
Glass fought an incredulous laugh. In her entire life, no one but Luke had ever paid her that compliment.
“Some people look at the world and see only what they can take from it. What they can reap, steal, carry away.” Soren’s smile dropped as her expression grew thoughtful. “That’s useful, of course. That’s what we value in our raiders. But leaders need something more than that. They need to look around them and see what they can provide for others.” She motioned around her, her eyes glittering with mirth. “Like a field for planting, for example. Or an orchard.”
Glass felt her cheeks growing warm. “I don’t know why I said all that.”
“You said it because it’s true.” Soren smiled at her. “Your suggestions were wise, Glass. And, as it turns out, you were right.” Her smile widened, her face lit by a sudden ray of pink dawn light. “Earth has spoken to us. She wishes us to remain here. We’ll build our hearths for the winter, and when the spring comes”—she squeezed Glass’s shoulder and stepped away—“we’ll plant.”
Glass stared at her, unsure how to respond. Part of her was desperate for the Protectors to leave, to go somewhere far away, where they could never hurt the Colonists or the Earthborns again. She wanted to go home to Luke. But another part of her wasn’t ready to leave Soren and the way she made Glass feel when she smiled at her. Useful. Wanted. Valuable.
“We’ve stopped before, you know,” Soren said, her voice dropping low. “When I joined the Protectors as a girl, we lived far to the west. We’ve stopped twice since then, once for each generation, and now it’s time to plant again.”
Glass’s mind swirled with unasked questions: What does planting have to do with generations? Where in the west did you live? Why did you join them? But the question that rose to her mouth was, “Soren, why did you take us from our camp? Why not everyone?”
Soren stopped strolling, her hand slowly reaching for a low branch laden with plums. She touched the fruit gently, with just the tips of her fingers. “Earth has Her own rhythms, you’ll learn, Glass. It is not just foolish to ignore them; it is a great sin. And on Earth, there are takers and there are Protectors. We must stop the takers from harming Earth any more than they already have, while encouraging potential Protectors to bloom. Look at this plum. It’s beautiful. It’s alive. Growing and perfect, like all of the new members of our community.”
Glass’s breath caught, listening to the wonderment in Soren’s voice, watching the light dancing over the older woman’s face. The High Protector’s hair was loose and graying slightly, but there was something so beautiful and relaxed about her, like she was just one of the trees in the forest, swaying with them, reaching toward the dawn’s glow.
“Mother!” A young voice broke through the orchard’s quiet. Glass turned to see an out-of-breath preteen boy racing to greet Soren. “The men are back from the south. It was a success.”
“Earth be good!” Soren kissed the top of the boy’s head and he beamed.
“Blessings, Mother,” he said, blinking up at her.
“Blessings, Callum,” she answered back. Whether Soren was his real mother or not, she certainly played the role well. “I’ll be with them in just a moment.”
The boy sprinted away to deliver her message, and Soren turned to Glass.
“I’ll head straight to the barracks,” Soren said, pressing her hand to Glass’s wrist. “You go take some time for yourself. Explore a little and see what ideas pop up.”
As Glass watched Soren’s graceful figure walking away, another image seemed to take her place: a blond woman staring into the artificially lit mirror on Phoenix, her hair carefully curled and coiled, her gown cut low, her smile brittle, her eyes forever guarded.
What would my mother think of these people? Glass wondered. And what would Soren think of her?
Soren would think she was a taker, Glass realized. And she might have been right. Glass’s mother had loved her daughter, and would’ve done anything for her, but she’d also spent her life manipulating people to get what she wanted, from extra credits at the Exchange, to endless power rations for their apartment. Glass’s skin prickled as she remembered the coy glances her mother directed toward Vice Chancellor Rhodes, and the hungry, possessive looks she received in turn.
Glass peered up at the trees, touching a dangling plum with the tip of one careful finger.
Protector. After everything Soren said, it didn’t sound half as ominous anymore.
CHAPTER 16
Wells
It was their third day at the Stone and their training sessions showed no sign of stopping. But this morning, instead of running around the track just inside of the walls, the Protectors had taken them out into the woods for what they were calling “active” training. At the moment, Wells was high in a tree, squinting into the darkness of the forest as a thickly muscled Protector walked beneath him, carrying a gun.
The wind blew, shaking the tree. Wells clung to the branch and exhaled slowly, silently, not moving. He waited. The Protector marched closer, keeping to the path Wells had dug through the undergrowth, a subtle trap to lure him in. The man kept going, heedless, until he was mere seconds from passing directly underneath. Three… two…
Wells dropped, landing on the Protector’s back, one arm snatching the gun out of the startled man’s fingers, the other around his neck, elbow tightening and tightening. The man kicked but Wells held on, teeth gritted, sweat dripping from his forehead.
The thunder of sprinting footsteps made his eyes fly up. Two other Protectors approached—fast. Wells spun his captive around, loosened his grip enough to flip and cock the gun, and trained the weapon on the new arrivals.
“Any closer and I shoot,” Wells snarled.
Behind him, a twig cracked. “If that had been loaded, I’d have been quaking in my boots,” came an all-too-familiar voice.
Wells dropped the prop gun and turned, letting the Protector in his arms go with an apologetic pat on the back. The man gripped his throat, coughing, but knocked Wells’s shoulder in reply, mouthing, nice job.
“Come on out, everyone,” Oak called. “This training round is finished.”
The other novice Protectors picked their way out of their hiding spots in the forest and made their way over. Oak waited until they’d all gathered in a loose circle before pointing to Wells with a smirk.
“You didn’t need to mouth off at the end, there,” Oak said. “You had a gun. That talks a lot louder than you do. And a silent man is an intimidating man. If you talk, they’ll think they can talk too. Talk you out of it. Instead of warning them…” Oak stooped to pick up the rifle, spinning and cocking it with lightning speed. “Just shoot.”
He aimed the barrel at Wells’s chest and pulled the trigger. It clicked softly. No ammo. Wells exhaled.
“Other than that, not bad,” Oak grumbled. “Not bad at all. Which is more than I can say for the rest of you!” He turned to squint disgustedly at the others, stopping briefly at Kit, the Earthborn boy. “You were stealthy, lad. You and this one”—he nodded to Wells—“you’re starting to listen to Earth. And She’s talking back. Keep it up and you’ll be one of us, if Earth wills it.”
“If Earth wills it,” they all repeated.
“Now get in line and prepare to run!”
Wells started sprinting away, knowing that Oak would catch up within seconds.
>
Kit glanced at Wells over his shoulder as he jogged away, blinking twice, their signal that all was going as planned. Kit and Eric had talked to all the other guys from their camp that had been captured, and they were on the same page—everyone would play along and make the Protectors think they were on their side so their captors would let their guards down. Then they would find the perfect time to escape. Wells wasn’t sure what the other recruits thought—if they were true believers or equally unwilling captives—but for now he and his friends were only speaking to the people they knew.
Wells blinked back and Kit looked away, just as Oak fell in beside him.
“You’re running against Earth’s soil,” Oak snarled. This was the call and repeat they had to do every time they trained.
“I beg Earth’s forgiveness,” Wells answered.
“You eat Earth’s food.”
“I thank Earth for Her bounty.”
“Pledge yourself to Earth’s service.”
Wells’s stomach tightened. Here it came—the sucker punch—just like every time the demand was made. They kept saying the recruits weren’t ready to pledge themselves to Earth’s service, that they weren’t allowed. And there was no sense in fighting it, not if they wanted the Protectors to believe they were buying this.
Not yet.
“I pledge myself to Earth’s service,” Wells said, bracing himself.
The silence that followed felt like a free fall. Wells cocked his head, confused. He’d said it. The whole sentence. And Oak was still just running beside him, aggression firmly in check.
Wells glanced at Oak. The old man wasn’t looking at him, just staring down the forest track back to the barracks. His mouth was still set in a surly line, but there was the faintest glint of a smile in his eyes. Wells was making progress.
When they reached the outer courtyard of the Stone, Wells stopped abruptly, as he’d been trained to do, hands behind his back awaiting next orders.
“Break for lunch,” Oak barked. “Be back here in an hour.”
“Yes, sir,” Wells said. Oak stalked off toward the field and Wells watched him with wonder. For the first time since they’d arrived, he was allowed to be on his own. He wasn’t being marched to his meal or being watched by his trainer. He wasn’t being watched by anyone at all.
Was this his reward for doing well today? For pledging himself to Earth’s service?
Wells glanced around and, seeing no one looking, spat into the dirt, as close to a rebellion as he could muster right now. Something told him the planet didn’t care. Then, deciding to press his luck a little further, he went inside the Stone to do a little exploring.
The outer roads were bustling with carts today. Another raiding party must have just come in, this one from the south, wagons full of ceramic pots and bowls, woven rugs, winter vegetables, cured meats, and what looked like blocks of salt. Though he kept his expression schooled, anger burned brightly inside him. Who had the Protectors been stealing from now? Destroying his camp wasn’t enough for them?
Wells kept going, deeper into the structure, taking in as many details as he could in the limited time he was given. A plume of steam came from a wide inner room. He ducked his head inside to see a laundry facility, clothes being dropped into a vat over a fire, red-cheeked girls stirring it, sweat pooling in dark puddles on the backs of their white dresses. He scanned the room, but none of the faces were familiar.
The buzz of furtive whispers drew his attention down the road. The way was blocked by a wall of white fabric dangling from a line that stretched from building to building. He could see two figures outlined behind one sheet by the afternoon sun, their heads close together.
The two figures stepped back, and one of their heads poked out from between the pinned sheets. Wells caught a flash of black hair and red ribbon, glanced behind him for onlookers, and hurried over.
“Octavia,” he said, pulling the sheet back, blinded for a second by the sudden flash of sun.
He heard a gasp, then felt something jagged pressing painfully into his neck.
“Wells… oh god, I’m sorry.” The object drew away and Wells peered down at a startled Octavia. She winced in apology, pocketing the metal scrap she’d been wielding. “I thought you were one of them.”
“And what if I had been, O?” Wells whispered. “You would have been caught, just like that.”
“I don’t care.” She raised her chin, and for a moment, she looked so much like Bellamy, Wells almost laughed. But when he saw the fury in her eyes, his amusement drained away. “Let them come for me. I’m done playing their games. They act so enlightened, but underneath it, they’re rotten to the core.” Octavia reached out and took the hand of the girl standing next to her. She had dark curly hair and looked vaguely familiar. “I’m not going to let anyone hurt you,” Octavia told her.
“What’s going on?” Wells asked, looking from one girl to the other. “What happened?”
“One of the so-called Protectors attacked her. He grabbed her and pulled her down to the ground, saying some bullshit about the Earth wanting them to be together. Thankfully, Anna kicked him in the balls and got away, because she’s a warrior.” Octavia’s expression softened as she looked at the girl, her eyes full of concern.
“Well done, Anna,” Wells said slowly. He stared at her. “You look awfully familiar…”
Octavia smiled. “She’s from Walden.”
Wells’s heart skidded to a stop. “Walden? You’re from the Colony?”
She nodded, and for the next few minutes, he listened to Anna’s remarkable tale about her journey to Earth, and what happened after her dropship crashed. “What happened to the others?” he asked, slightly dazed. “The ones who weren’t taken by the Protectors?”
“I guess they’re still out there. They were looking for the rest of you… I hope they made it.”
Octavia took Anna’s hand again. “They will. Or else, we’ll go find them, and then we’ll all get to have a fresh start together.” She smiled. “You’re going to love it at our camp. There’s a stream where we can go swimming, and this rabbit that comes to visit every morning. And every night, we sit by the fire and talk until it’s time to go to sleep.”
Anna raised an eyebrow. “And where will I be sleeping?”
“I’m sure we’ll find a spot for you somewhere,” Octavia said, a gleam in her eye Wells had never seen before.
“I can’t wait to see it,” Anna said, a note of wistfulness in her voice. She turned to Wells. “Octavia said you might have a plan to help us?”
“I have the start of one,” he said, glancing over his shoulder to make sure no one was listening.
“The first step is waiting.” Octavia grimaced. “And then followed by some waiting and more waiting.”
Before he could glare at her, Wells heard movement behind them. He cleared his throat.
“I was allowed to pledge myself to Earth’s service today,” he said, more loudly than before.
“That’s wonderful,” Anna said, catching on instantly and shooting Octavia a look for good measure. “I hope that we’ll be allowed to as well.”
A woman in gray passed them, glaring at Wells suspiciously.
“If Earth wills it,” Octavia said, her head dipped penitently.
They all repeated it, including the gray woman, who moved on.
“You’re on your way up, then,” Anna said. “You and Glass.”
“Glass?” Wells tensed. “What do you mean?”
“She’s working as a maid for the High Protector now,” Octavia said, her eyebrows rising. “Out of the dorms and into the inner chamber, living in Soren’s wing.”
Wells’s heart started racing. “Which way are Soren’s rooms?”
“I’ll show you,” Octavia said, putting down her laundry.
Octavia led him past the laundry lines, pointing out through an alley to the left. “Follow the gray ladies that way and you’ll get there. But I wouldn’t hang around if you don’t see Glass right
away. There are a lot of eyes watching that area.”
“Thanks,” Wells said, then cocked his head to the side and surveyed Octavia with a playful, appraising look. “So… is something going on between you and that Walden girl?”
She pressed her lips together, but couldn’t keep a smile from spreading across her face.
“Oh boy…” Wells laughed. “There are going to be a lot of heartbroken guys back at the camp.” He paused thoughtfully. “Girls too.”
“Okay, relax there, Jaha.”
“Noted.” He sighed. “I’d better get going. Just be careful, okay, O? Make sure you and Anna take care of each other until we find a way out of here.”
Octavia glanced over at Anna, who had started hanging the laundry. “We will,” she said, her voice a combination of determination and tenderness.
This is good, Wells thought as he hurried away. I’m rising in the ranks and Glass has access to the inner circle. All the pieces are coming together. Now I just need to—
There she was… Glass, walking with Soren along the outer road, wearing a new white dress, her blond hair clean and loose around her shoulders, her head tilted upward to listen as Soren spoke. She was smiling. She looked, inexplicably, at peace.
Wells felt the ground dropping around him, the walls rising higher, the stomp of feet surrounding him growing louder.
She’s just pretending, he told himself. She’s following the plan.
Glass glanced up, spotting him. Wells blinked at her twice, in signal, then turned and walked away, wondering why his hopeful excitement had suddenly turned to dread.
CHAPTER 17
Clarke
When Clarke woke up in the early morning, Bellamy was pacing restlessly. He looked so frantic and exhausted it was almost too painful for her to look at him. All she wanted was to wrap her arms around him, to tell him that everything was going to be okay, but this was not the Bellamy she could comfort. She’d learned long ago what to do when he had that feral gleam in his eye, when his muscles twitched with coiled energy.