Why the Change of Mind (More a Change of Heart)

Dark Forces Stirring

They moved quickly that day, both from increased determination and fear. Miller had taken over the front position because Bellamy no longer had a gun (which he was still sulking about), which left him sandwiched between the two siblings.

"What's the goal for today?" Lincoln asked. "In terms of stopping point, I mean. I'm sure you were planning on staying in a town originally, but under the circumstances that might not be the best idea."

"We'll go as far as we can and figure out the plan for crossing the border in the morning," Bellamy said.

"The border?" asked Clair. "I thought we weren't going out of Skaikru territory."

"We aren't," confirmed Miller from up ahead. "But the capital is like a territory all its own; you need a special permit to get inside and a good reason, too."

"Which we...have?" Clair asked doubtfully.

"Almost," Bellamy hedged. In fact, he had secured three tickets months and months before, but that was before he'd screwed up everything and voided them with the name on his back, and before they were aware a fourth member would be coming.

"Almost sounds a lot like 'no but I'd rather not tell you that right now' to me," Clair mused. "Funny."

"It won't be funny when we're at the gates and get shut out—or worse. We need a plan," Lincoln said.

"Which we will make, tomorrow," Bellamy insisted, "but for now we just need to keep moving. Distance will be the best way to avoid the incident for now."

Everyone quieted after that—except, of course, for Clair, who slowed her step to walk beside him. "The incident? You don't have to talk in code; no one here is going to betray anyone else."

"True, but that doesn't mean someone's not listening in some way or another. Word travels fast, and scouts move faster. I'd like to get you to Abby with everyone in one piece."

She frowned. "Abby?"

"Chancellor Griffin," he amended. "Your mother, if we're right about all this."

"Ah," she said, seeming uncomfortable. "If."

"Look, for what it's worth, I think you are," he told her, surprised at the truth of his words—but not at the ramming guilt in his stomach, because she believed he'd thought that since the beginning. It was too easy to forget he'd been using her this whole time.

The tentative smile she gave him seemed to ease it a little, though, so he let the feeling subside for now.

They stuck to the trees, deciding it would be better to be more on watch for hidden attacks than without cover. The pace was fast but controlled, which was probably best—Clarke was still limping a bit, and he didn't want to push her and make it worse.

Speaking of injuries, his arm was still burning something awful, though the wrapping had eased the bleeding—which probably made his current position in the middle logical, but that didn't stop him from missing his gun. He hadn't gone to scout training for half his life to simply not feel the lack of weight in his holster, the drumming knowledge that he was virtually defenseless if something were to—

"Cover!" Miller yelled, voice full of warning and fear. Several shots fired, from both nearby and farther away, and he rolled to the side.

"Speak of the devil," he muttered to himself as Lincoln ducked for cover beside him. With a quick glance, he saw Clarke and Miller were both safe for the moment as well, both guns trained behind them.