CHAPTER 23

Clarke

Clarke shifted her head on Bellamy’s chest, wondering how it was possible to feel so comfortable while lying on the ground in the middle of the night. She’d normally be shivering under the thin blanket, but the warmth that spread through her the moment Bellamy had taken her in his arms hadn’t dissipated.

Bellamy’s eyes were closed, but every few minutes, he would tighten his hold, or kiss her cheek, or run his fingers through her hair. The fire had gone out, and the only light came from the smattering of stars peeking out from the canopy of leaves.

Clarke shifted onto her other side so her back was against Bellamy’s chest. He responded by tightening his hold and drawing her closer, but this time, it seemed more like a reflex. From his steady, rhythmic breathing, she could tell he was asleep.

A faint flicker of light winked at her from the darkness. Maybe the fire hadn’t gone out? But this light seemed to be coming from a few hundred meters away, near the rock formation that stuck out of the hill.

Her heart pounding, Clarke twisted back to face Bellamy. “Hey,” she whispered in his ear, “wake up.” When that didn’t work, she gently shook his shoulder. “Bellamy.” His head fell to the side, and he let out a loud snore. “Bellamy!” She sat up suddenly, freeing herself from his grasp.

Bellamy’s eyes flew open. “What?” he asked, blinking sleepily. “What’s going on?” When he saw her expression, concern swept away the drowsiness, and he sat up. “Are you okay?”

Clarke pointed toward the light. “What do you think that is?”

In the darkness, she could see Bellamy’s eyes narrow. “I have no idea.” He reached for his bow, which he’d laid on the ground next to him before they went to sleep, and rose to his feet. “But let’s go find out.”

Clarke grabbed his hand. “Hold on, we should come up with a plan.”

Bellamy grinned at her. “A plan? Our plan is to see what it is. Come on.”

They slipped through the trees toward the light, which grew brighter as they approached. It was electric, Clarke realized—it cast a perfect circular glow, bathing the nearby trees and rocks in a warm yellow light.

“Clarke,” Bellamy said, his voice tight with worry. He pulled her to a stop. “I’m not sure about this. Maybe we should wait until morning.”

“No way.” Now that they were so close, she couldn’t bear not to find out what it was. She tightened her grasp and stepped forward.

The light source was warm and most certainly metallic. Clarke stood on her tiptoes to reach it, and realized that it was a lightbulb encased in some sort of cage—there were bars on the front, as if the light were a creature that might escape.

“What the hell?” she heard Bellamy whisper next to her. “That couldn’t have been burning since the Exodus, could it?”

Clarke shook her head. “No way. It would’ve burned out a long, long time ago.” She took a step back and gasped.

“What?” Bellamy said, startled. “What is it?”

The formation wasn’t just a pile of rocks. There were steps carved into the ground, leading down the side of the hill. Clarke didn’t hesitate. She moved toward them.

In the yellowish light, she could see Bellamy stiffen. “No way, Clarke. You’re not going anywhere until we have at least some idea what the hell this is.”

She squinted at something on the step that she’d mistaken for a shadow, and bent down for a closer look. It was a metal plaque with writing on it, although it was old and faded. She squinted. “Mount Weather,” she read aloud.

“What does that mean?” Bellamy asked.

A memory jolted through her, and she jumped to her feet with a start. “I know where we are!” she exclaimed. “They told me about this!”

“Who?” Bellamy’s voice had grown impatient. “Who told you about this, Clarke?”

“My parents,” she said softly.

Bellamy stared, wide-eyed, as Clarke told him what she remembered about Mount Weather, how it was supposed to be a shelter for the U.S. government in times of crisis. “But my parents said that no one got there in time.”

“Well, maybe they did,” Bellamy said. “Could they have survived the Cataclysm here? By going underground?”

Clarke nodded. “And I have a feeling they never left. I think this is where the Earthborns live.”

Bellamy looked at the stairs, then back to Clarke. “Well, what are you waiting for?” he asked when she didn’t move. “Let’s go talk to them.”

Clarke grabbed his hand, and together, they started down the staircase into the darkness.

CHAPTER 24

Wells

Wells shifted against the tree trunk, wincing as his exhausted muscles cramped in protest. It was dawn, but he hadn’t been able to sleep at all. Eventually he’d given up and volunteered for lookout duty, which the bleary-eyed Arcadian on guard had gratefully accepted.

His eyes drifted toward the grave site, where a new mound of dirt rose up from the grass like a scar. Wells had spent much of the night sitting by Priya’s grave, which he’d draped with flowers, although he hadn’t managed to do it as artfully as she or Molly had. But at least, he thought with relief, Molly’s fever had finally broken. Clarke had asked Sasha to convey what they’d discovered about the wintershade before she left, and the only bright spot in Wells’s day was telling everyone in the infirmary cabin that they’d make full recoveries as soon as the wintershade left their systems.

He glanced again at the crude tombstone, which was marked with nothing more than PRIYA. He didn’t even know her last name, or why she’d been Confined, or whether she’d ever been in love. Would her parents ever find out that she’d died? If the bracelets were still functioning, then there was a chance they’d been told already. If not, then Wells would have to wait until they arrived on Earth. He imagined a woman who looked like Priya stepping off the dropship, looking around with large brown eyes as she searched for the daughter who’d been taken from her, and while the other parents embraced their children, Wells would have to lead Priya’s mother to her grave.

A twig snapped, and Wells jumped to attention, searching the woods for signs of movement, but it was just an errant squirrel. Though he’d never admit it, he’d been hoping it was Sasha.

He knew he was being an idiot. She wasn’t going to magically reappear just because he couldn’t stop thinking about her. And he’d done the right thing, letting her go home. He just wished he’d thought to ask where her people lived, or if she would ever come back. What if he never saw her again?

Another thought nagged at the back of his mind, refusing to be dismissed. What if Sasha hadn’t really meant anything she said? What if their kiss was just part of her escape plan?

Shouts rose up from the clearing, yanking him from his stupor. They weren’t the usual early morning “get your hands off my breakfast” shouts, or the “if you try to get out of water duty I’m going to kill you” shouts. Wells rose to his feet and headed over. He had a feeling he knew what this was about.

A group was clustered around the infirmary cabin, and as Wells approached, two dozen faces turned to look at him. Most appeared to be confused, but a few blazed with anger.

“She’s gone,” Graham spat, striding toward Wells.

For a brief moment, Wells considered playing dumb, pretending that Sasha had somehow escaped. But he knew what his father would have said to that. A true leader owns up to his mistakes, rather than blaming others. Not that Wells thought releasing Sasha was a mistake.

“You said you were going to bring her back, and then you let her go.” Graham looked around the group to make sure his words had prompted the proper amount of resentment.

“What were you thinking, Wells?” Antonio asked, his eyes widening in disbelief. “She was the only leverage we had over the Earthborns. They already killed Asher and Priya. What’s to stop them from wiping out the rest of us?”

“We don’t even know where Sasha’s people are, let alone if they realized that we had her. Besides, they weren’t the ones who killed Asher and Priya,” Wells protested. “It was the other faction of Earthborns. The violent ones.”