Homecoming

But that wasn’t what Bellamy was worried about, not really. He was more worried about what would happen when the Earthborns refused to hand him over—what Rhodes would do if he didn’t get his way.

Max raised a hand, and the room fell silent.

“As most of you know, we have some visitors coming,” he called out, his voice commanding but calm. “They’re being brought in now. We will meet with them, hear what they want, and then we will decide what to do.”

A tide of murmurs and muffled questions rose up from the crowd. Max held up his hand again, and everyone quieted down. “I know you have a lot of questions. I do too. But let’s start by listening. Remember, there is no peace without peaceful exchange.”

A tense silence settled over the room. A few minutes later, a handful of Earthborns led in a group of Rhodes’s guards. They had been relieved of their weapons but not restrained in any way.

“Welcome,” Max said. The guards were stony-faced and silent, their eyes darting around the room, strategizing and assessing. “Please make yourselves comfortable and tell us why you’ve come.”

The guards exchanged glances. The eldest, a middle-aged man named Burnett who Bellamy recognized from the prison cabin, stepped forward.

“We are not here to harm your people,” Burnett said in the same cold, flat voice Bellamy had heard countless guards use before dragging someone off to Confinement, making them disappear forever. He scanned the room until his eyes landed on Bellamy. Every muscle in Bellamy’s body tensed up, and he had to fight the urge to bolt to the front of the hall and wrap his hands around Burnett’s thick neck. “We are under orders to collect our prisoner, that’s all. You are harboring a fugitive, who must answer for his crimes. Hand him over, and we’ll leave you in peace.”

Clarke grabbed Bellamy’s hand and held it tight. He knew she’d do anything to keep him safe, but at this point, all he wanted to do was spare her any more pain.

Max surveyed Burnett carefully, pausing before he spoke. “My friend, I appreciate that you have come here under orders. And it is not our intention to cause trouble in any way.” Max shot Bellamy a look over the sea of heads that separated them, his expression unreadable. “But it’s my understanding that the prisoner, as you call him, will not be receiving any sort of just sentence. If he returns to your camp, he will be executed.”

A sea of shocked gasps and whispers rippled over the crowd. An Earthborn woman near Clarke and Bellamy turned to stare at them, taking in their frightened expressions and clasped hands, and her expression changed from confusion to resolve. Three men who’d been standing near Bellamy’s side exchanged glances, then took a few steps so they were standing between Bellamy and the guards. “And we are not in the business of sending young men to their deaths,” Max finished.

Burnett shot an amused look at one of the other guards, and a small smile crept across his face. “It wasn’t a request,” he said. “You understand that there will be consequences to your refusal, don’t you?”

“Yes,” Max replied calmly, though his eyes had grown cold. “You’ve made yourself very clear.” He turned toward the other Earthborns. “I believe I can speak for everyone here when I say that we will not be accomplices to this unjust punishment. But I will allow them to decide.”

There was a long pause. Bellamy felt suddenly queasy as he looked around at the faces of these people—these strangers—who held his fate in their hands. Was it fair to make them decide—to ask them to put their own safety on the line to protect him?

He was steeling himself to rise and surrender himself to Rhodes when Max cleared his throat. “All those in favor of letting our visitors take the boy with him, please raise your hands.”

One of the guards smirked, while the man next to him cracked his knuckles. They were clearly relishing this, eager to watch the Earthborns relinquish Bellamy to his grim fate.

But to Bellamy’s shock, no one raised their arm. “What the…” he whispered as Clarke squeezed his hand.

“All in favor of letting Bellamy, Clarke, and Wells stay here, under our protection?”

Countless hands shot into the air, blocking Max, Burnett, and the other guards from view. Bellamy’s knees began to buckle as an overwhelming tide of gratitude rose within him. The adults back at the Colony had never offered Bellamy so much as a crumb of kindness. Never, not even when he and Octavia were practically starving. But these people were willing to risk everything for him—a total stranger.

That’s what made it worse. These were good people. They didn’t deserve to die for some kid who’d spent nineteen years making nothing but terrible decisions.

Clarke slid her arm around his waist and leaned into him, helping to support his weight.

“It’s okay,” she whispered into his ear.