Loyal

Chapter Seven

The pain ignited in her leg, stopping her from being able to run.

She tried to pull herself forward on the ground, only succeeding in tearing her leg further open.

Snow stopped moving, focusing on breathing and using her hands to stop the bleeding.

She only succeeded in coating her hands in blood. At least Tristan was already dead. No grounder could see this.

Her blood was inky black, the same color as her eyes.

Snow hadn't felt pain like this before, that felt like being stabbed by a thousand burning daggers at once.

She screamed slightly.

The guards that had shot Tristan grabbed her arms and hauled her to her feet. She couldn't wriggle out of their grasp.

"Bellamy, why were you trying to kill a child?" The man in front, clearly the leader, asked.

"I'm not a child," Snow snapped, "I'm nineteen."

The man smiled, even laughed a little, "You're awfully small for nineteen."

She stood up properly, but her full height was still a foot or two shorter than the guards.

"I have killed so many people I have lost count," Snow growled, "I am an assassin, and I am loyal to my queen and my commander. Laugh at me, you're next."

The man laughed a little harder, followed by everyone else, "I sincerely doubt-"

Before he could finish his sentence, both guards were on the ground, screaming in pain, as she held their arms twisted back.

It was a blur of motion, and no one could have seen it coming.

But the pain in her leg forced her to collapse once again.

"Unless you want the next bullet to kill you, I suggest you stop fighting," the man growled.

Snow gritted her teeth as another bullet landed in her shoulder.

"We're taking her back to camp," the man announced, "Get a stretcher ready."

They placed her on a stretcher, carried by two guards.

Snow saved her strength for when they were in a particularly thick cluster of trees to slip off the stretcher and climb a tree with her one good arm and leg.

"She's gone!" Someone exclaimed.

Bellamy's voice rang out, "I told you she should have been tied down."

That wouldn't have stopped her, but sure, whatever they needed to believe.

They kept going back to the metal tin can they fell from the sky in to look for the others.

Snow nearly screamed again. In retrospect, it would have been better to escape after they healed her.

She fell from the tree and blacked out.

When she woke up, she was in a metal room facing Bellamy. So they had found her again.

Her right hand was tied to a metal pole with some sort of plastic. She dislocated her thumb, and her and slipped straight through.

She fixed her thumb afterwards and limped towards the back, where she saw a window.

"They'll shoot to kill on sight," Bellamy warned.

"Why tell me that?" Snow asked as she studied the defenses of the camp.

Bellamy shrugged, "Because I know the moment you're able to walk properly, you'll be gone."

"Yeah," Snow nodded as she limped back over to him.

"So, back to Azgeda?"

Snow shrugged, "Not until there's no risk of the stitches breaking."

"Is this about that black blood?" Bellamy asked, "What does it mean?"

Snow sighed, "It means I got lucky." Bellamy frowned, so she elaborated.

"There are certain people, natblidas, or nightbloods with black blood. It's a genetic thing. Every few years, a group of religious zealots run around looking for them to take them to Polis to train under the Commander's eye. Then, when the commander dies, the conclave begins. All the nightbloods fight to the death. Last child standing is the new Commander."

"If the nightblood gene is so rare, why kill them all?" Bellamy asked, "And why wouldn't you want to fight? You'd become Commander for sure with your skill."

Snow frowned, "Most Commanders start their rein at the age of ten. They live to the age of thirty if they're lucky."

"You'd have the power to change anything."

"No, my grandmother- Queen Nia would have that power," Snow said, "She can't know or I'll become either a Commander or a dead body in the next year."

Bellamy frowned, "If you were Commander, couldn't you tell her to back off?"

"I do as she says," Snow said stiffly, "Or she tells the whole world what happened to Frost."

"Who-"

Snow interrupted, "No one talks about her but me. Okay?"

The boy nodded as a few guards walked in to interrogate us, along with another boy who'd apparently been healing for a while.

"Now, here's how this is gonna go," the man from before said to Snow, "You're going to tell us everything about the grounders, and we're going to use that knowledge to keep us safe. If you cooperate, we will consider releasing you."

"How often does that stupid tactic work?" Snow asked, "I take orders from my queen and the Commander. Not some old man who fell out of the sky."

The man was clearly agitated, "It's that or torture. Which would you prefer?"

"Trust me, torturing her doesn't work," Bellamy stated from experience, "She's an assassin from the ice nation. She won't talk unless she wants to."

"Well maybe the ice nation wants her back," the man grunted.

Snow shrugged, "If I was slow enough to get caught, they'd rather I was dead. Assassins don't get rescued."

"Well I heard your conversation," the man said, "Would your kingdom take back a nightblood princess?"

With a raised eyebrow, Snow smirked, "Tell them I'm a princess, they'll still leave me here. Tell them I'm a nightblood, they'll come charging in with an army and kill you all if I don't first."

"You're awfully violent for a princess," the man said, "Why are you an assassin?"

"I serve my queen and my Commander," Snow said softly.

The man then asked, "Why be on a battlefield rather than be raised an heir?"

"I serve my queen and my Commander," she repeated strongly.

"And what about Frost?" The man asked.

Snow's gaze tightened as she forced the memories and emotions back into the depths of her heart.

She then smiled as she lunged forwards and took down all of the guards, and the man in charge.

He shouted in pain as his shoulder popped out of place, "My arm!"

"Mention Frost again, you'll be more worried about your head," Snow growled, grabbing a metal rod from his belt, then another from a guard.

"Snow!" Bellamy shouted.

She whipped around, "What?"

"You don't have to go back," Bellamy said, "You can stay."

"No," Snow sighed as she walked into the hallway, "I can't."