Rebellion (The 100 #4)

“Fine.” She spun around and left without another word.

The silence that settled over the camp felt absolute. His eyelids fluttered and fell and he swore he could feel Octavia’s tiny hand holding his as they hid together in their cabin on the ship, Wells’s arms wrapping around him the first time they embraced as brothers, Clarke’s body warm against his as they stared up at the stars.

All things that were about to be stolen from him tomorrow, when Clarke put her suicidal plan into action.





CHAPTER 19


Glass


Yesterday had been the kind of busy day that leaves you floating just above dreams all night long, your body longing to stay in motion. In the darkness of her chamber, Glass’s mind flitted from memory to memory, never quite settling into deep slumber.

It had started with a rude awakening, being dragged out of the dorms to become Soren’s new maid, but it had ended on a very different note, with a dinner of delicious, spiced stew, surrounded by Soren and her advisors, their warm chatter and laughter filling the chamber.

Over the course of the day, there had been visits to nearly every corner of the compound; Soren drawing up plans for planting in several areas surrounding the outer walls; ducking into the sorting area, where the women were dividing goods up to keep or to melt down or scrap; walking along the river’s edge, where some of the men were teaching the younger members of the group to catch fish. They’d even paid a visit to the barracks, so that the High Protector could congratulate some of the newer recruits on their training and wish them well.

Glass hadn’t seen any of her friends there, and was secretly a little relieved about it. She’d spotted Wells only briefly, passing through the outer corridors of the Stone, and had flushed with panic at the sight of him, without really even knowing why.

She was almost enjoying herself. She felt useful here, in a way she hadn’t the entire time they’d been on Earth. Maybe in her whole life. She’d trailed Soren all day long, providing water when she was thirsty, a cloak when she was cold, taking notes on scraps of parchment after Soren learned that Glass could write. But mostly Glass watched and listened… and learned. She was amazed at how Soren could be both powerful and beloved—a far cry from the leaders she’d known back on the Colony. And she couldn’t stop herself from imagining, someday, having people look at her with the same reverence.

But could she do that if she returned to the camp? What future was waiting there for her? Yet anytime her thoughts drifted in that direction, a face materialized in her mind. Luke. The warm, sleepy smile that greeted her the moment she woke up in the morning. The way his brown eyes crinkled when she made him laugh. The look of fear and anguish when he shouted at her to run.

But now it was the beginning of a new day, and Glass lay in her bed in the anteroom attached to Soren’s chamber, physically exhausted but half-awake, waiting for her next set of orders. After all, Margot had said that Soren kept odd hours. She might call for Glass at any moment. She needed to be—

She stirred, hearing a voice in the chamber beyond. Was this a summons? Through her little window, she could see a corner of sky and it was still dark, but now she heard a few low voices rising up from Soren’s room. Glass rose quietly and slipped from her nightgown into her white dress. If Soren and her advisors were awake, they’d call for her soon.

Glass had almost finished braiding her hair when she heard one of the advisors say her name. She hurried to the door that separated her room from Soren’s but some gut instinct made her hesitate before opening it. She stopped instead and listened.

“If she hadn’t spoken up that day…” It sounded like Margot’s voice.

“Yes, Glass would have stayed among the other female recruits.” This was Soren. The other voices fell silent as she spoke. “That’s why she was chosen in the first place, but I feel she’ll be more useful in our ranks. She has an aptitude. I also have the feeling that she may not pair well.”

“No?” Margot asked.

Glass held her breath, bracing herself into the corner of the room so she wouldn’t move, her ear turned toward the tiny crack in the doorframe. “Pair well”? What did that mean?

“I sense an attachment elsewhere,” Soren said briskly. “She’s in love and she’s holding on to it still. It closes her off to men, but it opens her up to Earth. To us. So we’ll have to be very considerate about her pairing.”

Glass’s hands flew to her chest. How could Soren know that?

“Anyhow, aside from our new friend, we’ll keep the ranks as they stand,” Soren said. There was a shuffle, like the others were rising from their seats. “We’ll finalize the pairings tomorrow so the first rites will be as fruitful as possible, if Earth wills it.”

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