A/N: Hey everybody! I'm back! My christmas was awesome as always and I can't wait to get writing again!
This is the sequeal to my first story, Echoes of The Descendant. It is suggested that you read it first before this or it'll be very difficult to follow.
I've also decided that Echoes of The Descendant will be a trilogy. There will be that story, this one and one more after this. What's a sequeal to a sequeal? Meh, I dunno. Anyway, enjoy!
Disclaimer: I don't own the Hunger Games. All rights to Suzanne Collins and her amazing mind!
Chapter One- Death is a good thing
The girl is dressed in black. She walks along the rainy paths of District 7 with a purpose. They say she has seen so much. They say she has been through more than the oldest person in Panem has been through. The Veil covers her face, she never lifts it to reveal her features. Her long, black dress falls down to her feet and brush against her ankles as she walks, revealing the flat pumps she always seems to wear. She has walked the streets of District 7 for two weeks now, going to the same building everyday, requesting to see the same woman who is never there.
They say she has eyes as old as the earth itself.
Today, though, was the day she discovered the lies that have been told to her. Today was the day she discovered that the people were hiding from her. That they're scared of her. They think of her as death itself who has come to consume to souls of 12 innocents, dressed in black and prowling the streets.
She doesn't care though.
She has a purpose.
A purpose no-one but her accomplice knows about.
The accomplice follows alongside the woman in black everyday. Their face is also obscured by the hood of their jacket. The accomplice manages to keep pace with the woman in black, which always seemed impossible with the quick, long strides the woman in black takes.
In the end, everyone knows that the woman in black is not just someone who will come and go as she pleases. She has a reason for being here.
And everyone knows that the reason involves us all.
~xXx~
I don't bother to knock this time, I've done plenty of knocking since I've been here and all I've gotten is disappointment. Johanna kicks the door open before I can even consider knocking anyway. She bursts into the reception room with an air of confidence and power. She immediately flips the reception desk and pushes the receptionist against the back wall.
"Someone's been lying," she sing songs to the terrified individual, pressing the tip of her gun against their temple.
"Put her down Johanna," I say stoneily as I walk past and head to the door the receptionist was protecting. "Just tie her up."
I hear the receptionist whimper one last time as I enter the room and shut the door behind me.
The woman I'm looking for sits across from me at a giant mahogany table. She looks up at me knowingly, her yellow eyes old and haggard. A smile tugs at her lips. "I knew you'd come."
"Are you Kwary Dealany?" I ask immediately.
"Yes," the woman nods. "And I'm guessing your Primrose Mellark. Or, as the people of the district have been calling you, death itself."
I rip the veil off my face and glare at her.
"You are the grandmother of Meladina Dealany, am I right or wrong?" I ask, not wanting to strike up a warm chat. I have a job to do.
"Your right," Kwary nods.
"There's no point wasting time," I state as a fact. "You've been lying to me for two weeks now. Why?"
"Because it wasn't time yet," Kwary answers.
"Oh, so now I'm on a schedule that suits you?" I almost snarl. "Your prissy receptionist has sat out there and lied to my face for fourteen days, telling me you weren't here just because it wasn't time yet?"
"Yes, she has, but don't kill her. Poor girl was only following orders," Kwary replies, cool as a cucumber. Her calm demeanour rubs me the wrong way.
"I wasn't planning on killing her," I say. "Johanna maybe, but not me. Look Kwary, I don't have time to be messed about with like that!"
"You say that," Kwary answers. "And yet your still here."
"Can you help me or not?" I ask in irritation.
"Of course I can you silly child," Kwary laughs. Her laugh cuts through me like a knife, adding gasoline to the fire of hatred that's been burning away in my stomach since I was picked for the Hunger Games.
"You're the only other member of the Dealany family that has inherited the psychic powers that Meladina seemed to of had obtained," I state. "True or false?"
"True," Kwary nods.
"You can predict the Capitol's next move, true or false?" I ask.
"True," Kwary answers.
I wait. Kwary just stares back at me. "Go on then," I say through gritted teeth, my patience running thin.
"I can't," Kwary states.
I growl. "I'm not joking Kwary."
"I can't," Kwary repeats.
"Why not?" I spit out.
"Give me your hand."
"What?"
"Give me your hand."
"Don't waste time!" I hiss. "Just look into the damn future."
"This will help child, just give me your hand," Kwary insists. I sigh and give her my hand. She pulls on it, forcing me to sit down on the seat across from her desk. Her fingers trace over my palm while she stares intensly at it.
"You've lost someone," she says after a couple of minutes. "Someone very close to you."
I shift uncomfortabely in my seat and squirm a bit. Yes, I have become much more hard and mean since Zeb died. I'll be the first to admit it. I can't help it, it just happens and I can't prevent my hostal attitude anymore. There's no point in trying to please people anymore.
"Someone you loved," Kwary continues. "Your still hurting."
"This is irrelevant," I say, not wanting to talk about Zeb. It's the only thing, bar my family and friends being kept in the Capitol, that makes me weak. "What is the Capitol's next move?"
"You miss him . . . terribly," Kwary continues, undeterred by my obvious sensitivity with the topic. Fine, two can play at that game.
"And yet you never let Meladina know you existed," I say to her acidly.
Kwary's gaze flicks up to meet my eyes. "Meladina knew very well that I existed. When her mother was shot she didn't come to me. It was her choice. To Meladina, I didn't exist."
"Why's that then?"
"I wasn't there for her at all. She didn't want to come to me."
She stares hard at me for another moment before looking back to my hand. "If you could chose between having him back or finding out this information on the Capitol, which would you chose?"
"The information," I lie. Finding out the information on the Capitol isn't absoloutely nesscary to the mission, it would just make everything a bit easier. If I had to chose between having the information on the Capitol or getting Zeb
back. . .I would chose Zeb.
"Your lying," Kwary says immediately.
"No, I'm not," I lie again.
"Stupid child," Kwary sighs, shaking her head. "You miss him more than ever. You want him back."
"Give me the information Kwary! I don't have time for you to be reading my damn fortune!"
"You don't care about him then? Since you'd chose the information over-"
She doesn't get to finish the sentence as I've leaped over the desk and have her pressed against the back wall, my knife pressing against her neck. "Don't even finish that sentence," I hiss. "Unless you want your neck ripped open."
"So you would rather get him back," Kwary smiles.
"Of course I would you stupid woman," I hiss.
Kwary nods-only slightly due to the blade of my knife- and closes her eyes.
"Death cannot bring down those who have done good in their life," she says. "Especially people who have not completed what they were born to do."
"Your point is. . . ?" I snap.
"The Mells theory will be furfilled," Kwary practically hisses, suddenly pressing her fingers against my forehead, just like Meladina did back in the arena.
And that's when I black out.
A/N: Ah-ha! What's happened? :O
Dun, Dun, Dun! Anyway, I hope I've striked your curiousity enough to come back for the next chapter ;)
Reviewers get virtual cupcakes! :D
