"Why are you really here, Skaiskat?" Ontari asked as they made their way down the stairs.

"I came for Clarke. She'll need help."

"I will give Clarke what she needs."

"With all due respect, Heda, you can't. I've been to the City of Light, and I can help Clarke reach it. You can't leave your duties for weeks or months."

"What have you been doing in Azgeda?"

"Learning."

Ontari headed walked them into the garden behind the tower and demanded that her guards give her their swords. She tossed one to Murphy. "Show me."

For an hour, Ontari challenged him. When she knocked him down, he got up quickly and resumed a defensive position. They didn't talk during this exercise, and Murphy was happy when it ended.

"Not bad for a beginner," was Ontari's assessment.

"Mochof, Heda."

"You cannot protect Clarke."

"Not alone, no. But I'll do whatever is necessary to keep her safe."

"Will you give your life?"

"If I must. I'd rather not, but if I'm in a position where it's me or Clarke, she'll be the one to survive."

"Swear it."

"I vow to protect Clarke Griffin with my life."

"You will continue to train while you are here. When Klark leaves, you will go with her. I expect both of you to return."

"Sha, Heda."

"Titus' time is ending. You will tell your story when the time comes. You will speak true."

"I will. I want my ounce of flesh. He owes me."

"He owes many debts, Murphy. It will soon be time to pay." Ontari tossed the swords back to her guards and continued toward the training area, Murphy at her side.

He trailed Ontari for the rest of the day. A few times, he wanted to ask what she was thinking, usually when she stopped and turned to look at the Tower, but thought better of it. He got his name back and didn't want to lose it.

100 – 100 – 100

Clarke had no idea how to go about arranging the trades Roan wanted, and settled on being straightforward. She didn't have time to waste on niceties, and the letters she wrote to the other ambassadors were direct. Azgeda wished to trade, and had this to offer. They sought this resource in return.

It took half the morning to write out the messages to each ambassador, and Clarke spent a minute massaging her hand when she finished. She turned the messages over to a guard and poured some water before returning to Beka Pramheda's journal.

She wasn't far into it when she realized that directions for turning regular people into Nightbloods were in there. So was the schematic for the Flame. Two phrases were throughout, but Clarke hadn't studied Latin beyond what she needed for her medical studies and didn't understand them, but she wrote them down in her sketch book. She also copied the recipe the nightblood serum and the technical drawings of the chips.

She was working on replicating those drawings when Marcus returned and reluctantly put the journal aside to speak with him. "Did he talk to you?"

"Yes, and gave me this." Marcus put the chip on the table between them.

Clarke looked at it and at Marcus. "Do you think he took another one?"

"I think so. He answered my questions, but he was too calm."

"Am I wrong to think he should face Skaikru for justice?"

"No, Clarke, you aren't wrong. Can you accept that they might vote for him to live?"

"I won't like it, but I won't veto their decision. But if he has another chip in him, it has to come out before. I don't want him near anyone as long as he's under her control."

"He said the City of Light, the physical place, is north of here, and that it's safer to go by sea than by land."

"Do you believe him?"

"Yes."

"We'll see what Murphy has to say."

"I forget that he was with Thelonious."

"He's the only one who came back the same as when he left."

"He's not like that now."

"He is," Clarke said, "but he's learning to temper it. When we're finished here, I suspect he'll return to Azgeda."

"Will you allow that?"

"Absolutely. He didn't have to come back to Polis. I didn't ask him to come. I told him what I found, and he chose to help."

"You trust him," Marcus said.

"I do. Clarke laughed. "That's something I never thought I'd say."

"We all change Clarke, for better or worse."

"Sometimes it's hard to tell them apart." Clarke looked at the table for several seconds, then back at Marcus. "Talk to him any time you can. If he says anything interesting, let me know."

"Of course. Is there anything else I can do to help?"

"Not right now, thanks." Clarke stood and held out her hand. "Thank you for everything."

Marcus shook her hand. "No thanks are necessary. I'll see you soon."

Clarke released his hand and Marcus left. She sat down and soon was deep in the journal. Clarke was surprised that Lexa let her read it without commenting, but she was busy observing Murphy, the other witness to her death and someone who had more reason than most to dislike Titus.

Messengers interrupted her throughout the day. They brought lunch, answers and invitations from the other ambassadors, and the unending flow of reports. Clarke let all of the paperwork pile up. She picked at the lunch tray, unwilling to divert her attention.

As she read, Clarke recognized the roots of Grounder culture and how the things Beka said and wrote had been twisted to satisfy the needs of her successors. She made notes while she read, questions and ideas and things she wanted to discuss with others, and didn't stop reading until she was finished.

She didn't realize how late it was until she stood, stretched, and went to the windows to see that night had come. Murphy and Ontari came in and Clarke was put in a seat and told to eat while they watched.

"Where's Raven?"

"Your mother will bring her when Nyko finishes working with her."

"Sorry I missed supper," Clarke said to Ontari.

"Murphy took me to an inn."

"Did you have fun?"

"Yes," Ontari answered with a smile. "It was interesting."

Clarke looked at Murphy, who shrugged before asking, "Did you get up with any of the other ambassadors?"

"I sent them all a letter."

Ontari began going through the papers on the table and stacked the responses from the other ambassadors in front of Clarke's plate. Clarke reached for the top one, and Ontari said, "Not until you finish eating."

Clarke rolled her eyes but picked up her fork. "Murphy," she said between bites, "Marcus talked to Jaha. Jaha told him the City of Light is to the north, and easier to reach by sea than land."

"That's true. When I left, Emori brought us back here on an old boat. It took less than a week. Even if we ride, it will take at least a month. Going over land is treacherous. There's almost no water and the Dead Zone is full of raiders and outcasts. None of them are friendly."

"What kind of boat?" Ontari asked.

"I don't know. It wasn't very big or fast."

"Did it have a motor or sails?" Clarke asked.

"A motor. For all I know, it's where she left it."

"Can you find your way back there?"

"Maybe," Murphy said slowly.

"What happened to Emori?" Clarke asked.

"Dunno."

"If I show you a map," Ontari said, "can you show the way?"

"I don't know. I'll try. What else did Jaha say?" Murphy asked Clarke.

"Nothing useful, but he gave Marcus a chip. Marcus said he thinks Jaha took another one."

Ontari got up and went to the door. She told one of the guards to go now to the cells and have Jaha and his accommodation thoroughly searched. Her tone sent the guard running down the hall.

When she returned, Clarke told her, "I finished the journal. I want Raven to read it. She'll understand the tech. Some of the stuff I read is way over my head."

"Give it to her tonight. It is what she is to do until she finishes. Fair and I will start on it after that."