They don't tell you what happens when you win the Hunger Games. They don't tell you that the arena truly is a game, compared to what follows. They didn't tell me, or I might have begged Neera to let me die. And she might have listened.
But they didn't tell me, and Neera, for all her encyclopedic knowledge of the Games, hadn't realized. And so I was alive, and she was dead, and I was learning that hell wasn't a desert, but a gleaming city filled with inhuman people.
I sat up in bed and stretched carefully, feeling my neck and shoulders protest that I shouldn't move so vigorously after a nightmare like the one I'd just faced. I ignored the pain – I was used to it, because I had some variation of the same dream every night, and every morning I awoke with the same strained muscles.
Thirty-two days, I thought. Thirty-two days since Neera Salotti, career from District Two, committed the most rebellious act Panem has seen since the war, and no one noticed.
It was that thought that finally gave me the energy to stand up, though I winced when my bare feet hit the cold tile. The discomfort was a welcome reminder that I wasn't dreaming again.
A knock on the door made me jump, and I walked down the hall and through my living room to answer it. A Capitol woman stood there, towering over me with high heels and an elaborate pink and orange tower of hair.
"Good morning, ma'am," I said, veiling my surprise with politeness. "May I help you?"
"Good morning, Memorie. My name is Theta Honeyman, and I'm the new escort for District Three," the woman informed me, her Capitol accent already grating on my patience. "I came to inform you that the train will be leaving for your district in three hours."
"Thank you, Theta," I said, opening the door wider. "Please, do come in. Would you care for some breakfast?"
Theta looked shocked. Then her eyes widened, as did her smile, and she stepped into my apartment, chattering away. "Oh my goodness, it's going to be so wonderful to work with you, dear! This is ever so much of an improvement over my last district. What lovely manners!"
I smiled in return, but was glad to turn toward the wall to order our food. Theta Honeyman looked familiar because she'd been District Two's escort – Neera's escort – during the Quarter Quell. When I returned to the table, I held an assortment of pastries, confections I thought Theta would enjoy. I added grapefruit juice and hot chocolate before waving Theta toward one of the comfortable chairs surrounding the table.
"Now, dear, you must be wondering what happened to your old escort," Theta said after a brief pause during which poured herself a glass of juice. "Well, Olivia Fairbank happens to be an old friend of mine, and she agreed to switch districts with me for…um, various reasons." I didn't think I was imagining the blush working its way across Theta's face under the heavy makeup, and I raised an eyebrow. "To make a long story short," she continued, "both of us wanted a change of scene." With that, Theta took a large bite out of her cherry pastry, effectively closing the subject.
"Regardless of the reason, I'm sure it's lovely to have you," I murmured, burying my face in a large mug of hot chocolate to hide my curiosity. By the time I surfaced, Theta was rambling again.
"…really doing Olivia a favor. Do you know how much work one has to do when one's district has a victor? The scheduling for the Victory Tour alone takes days to arrange!" I smiled and nodded, and wondered why Theta had really switched to District Three.
We finished our meal and Theta excused herself so I could get dressed. "Remember, you have to look nice for the cameras! This is such a big day for everyone!" she reminded me as I closed the door behind her. I sighed. Looking nice for the cameras was something I'd had more than enough time to perfect in the past few weeks, along with faking politeness and a happy smile to go with my pretty outfits.
When the sound of Theta's clicking heels had faded, I leaned my forehead against the inside of my door and took a deep breath.
Home. I was going home today, and I wondered how it would feel. The Games had changed me; I was no longer the same shape, physically or mentally, that I'd been when I last saw my District. Was this going to be an exercise in futility, the metaphorical square peg in a round hole? Insanity wasn't an option – I owed Neera that much – but sanity wasn't going to be fun.
In the shower, I smoothed strawberry-scented cream into my hair and tried to list all the children at the daycare center I'd run at home. Magnus, Leo, Kane, Warner, Cody… Those were all boys, and the last name brought tears to my eyes, because Cody had been the name of my district partner, a thirteen-year-old who had died during the bloodbath.
Dahlia, Sophie, Noelle, Morgan, Gentry… I rinsed my hair as I listed the girls, making sure I could put a face to each name, because the girls, unlike the boys, would be disappointed if I left anyone out by accident. As I stepped out of the shower and into the dryer, I couldn't shake the suspicion that I was forgetting someone – it certainly didn't say much for my memory if I'd forgotten a child when I'd been gone less than two months.
I stepped into a dark blue dress, one I'd chosen days ago for the train ride home because it was comfortable and wouldn't wrinkle easily. Critically, I spun in front of the full-length mirror, examining my reflection before deciding to add a few sparkling clips to my hair, pulling it back from my face. I didn't want to appear shy in front of the cameras or my district because my hair fell into my face at an inopportune moment.
Don't think about her, don't think about her, I chanted to myself, as I often did these days. Neera's memory was useful to me, but not if I dissolved into tears every time I remembered some small thing she'd done or said. Like braiding my hair, those deadly hands unbelievably gentle…
No. Don't think about that.
Before my mind could continue down that destructive path, I left the bathroom and busied myself choosing a pair of shoes to go with the dress. The Capitol had stocked my closet with toweringly high heels, probably another phase of their attempt to make everyone forget that I'd once been unable to walk under my own power. My new leg could handle any of the shoes they threw at me, but I deliberately picked one of the less outrageous pairs, because I wanted to look like myself today.
I'm not myself, not anymore. I won't live in my old apartment; my new apartment is in the Victor's Village, and it's huge. I won't work at the daycare; I'm a victor, and that's a full-time occupation by itself.
Bitterly, I shook my head to clear the thoughts. I must've been truly desperate for a distraction, because I walked to the living room and switched the television on. I was promptly greeted by a magnified vision of my own face. My cheeks were dirty, my lips cracked from dehydration, and I flinched away from the screen, realizing they were replaying the Games. Again.
The push of a button changed the channel, this time to something harmless, an inane Capitol drama about a love triangle between a Gamemaker, a politician and the owner of a clothing shop. Settling on the couch, I watched the increasingly ridiculous activities of the trio onscreen until another knock on my door told me it was finally time to leave.
Unsurprisingly, it was Theta Honeyman, dressed in something sparkling and silver that nearly blinded me as I stepped outside and shut the door. It clashed horribly with her hair, but after weeks in the Capitol, I was beginning to think that was the point.
"You look lovely, dear," said Theta, sweeping me into a hug that nearly choked me, so strongly was it scented with lilac perfume. "But, oh, goodness, couldn't you have chosen a brighter color? Pink would look phenomenal with all that pretty blonde hair!"
Yes, and then my district might think I was trying to match you, I thought with a small shudder. "Thank you for the advice, Theta," I said instead, flashing her a sweet smile. I had no desire whatsoever to alienate my new escort – Olivia had been awful, mainly because she was bitter at having a pair of tributes with no hope of winning the Games. At least she'll like Two. They have more winners than anyone.
We walked together to the elevator, exchanging small talk. "Tell me, Theta, are you disappointed not to have many previous victors to talk to now that you're the escort for my district?" I asked. "I know District Two has four victors so far. I've only met Varius de Luca and Allison Romano, but they seemed like wonderful people." That was a bit of a stretch – Varius had been surly, mourning his dead trainee, and Allison had demonstrated a propensity for joking about things that made me uncomfortable – but both had been unexpectedly kind to me, so I didn't mind.
Theta let out a high-pitched laugh so clearly false I had to stop myself from turning and staring. "Yes, yes, lovely. Mr. de Luca, in particular, was very welcoming. District Three suits me better, though. I must say, you seem much more…refined…than anyone I've met from District Two."
I laughed for real, one of the first times I'd done so since before the arena. Varius and Theta, huh? Maybe that's why she switched districts. "I hope the rest of my district continues to deserve the compliment," I simpered, wishing I could say what I meant. If your idea of refinement is wasting food, profiting from the pain of others and watching children die, we want no part of it.
The rest of our walk was silent as I debated how best to use my newfound knowledge and Theta – I speculated – thought about her hair, clothes, or whatever else occupied the minds of Capitol fashionistas these days. There was no reason to blackmail my district's escort yet, so I'd save the leverage in case I needed it later. Actually, I wasn't even sure if I had leverage. Was it illegal for an escort and a mentor to be in a relationship?
A media circus awaited us down by the train, and I recalled how Flux, my mentor, had cleared a path through the crowd when Cody and I had arrived at the Capitol. He'd been perpetually drunk and hadn't bothered to give us much advice for the Games, but at least he'd cared a little. And he'd helped Neera, which was why he'd been killed. I couldn't forget that.
Flux was dead, so Theta and I had to make our own hole through the seething mass of Capitolians with video cameras. One reporter pushed a microphone in my face, asking, "Memorie, how does it feel to be going home?"
I ignored her and shoved my way onto the train, knowing that if I stopped to answer one question, ten more reporters would waylay me. A dark-haired Avox slid the door closed behind us, immersing the compartment in blessed quiet.
"Well, that was certainly something," said Theta, shaking her head. "You must be the most popular victor in years! I haven't seen a crowd like that since Varius won, and I only remember that because my friends and I all skipped school to watch him leave. What?" she asked, frowning at me. "I'm not that old."
"Of course not," I murmured, turning toward the corridor that led to the sleeping cars. Truthfully, I hadn't been thinking about her age at all; I was still mourning the dead. "I'm going to rest, but I'll see you at dinner, Theta," I informed her, taking my leave before she could unleash another stream of words.
Even compared to my Capitol apartment, the train was luxurious. It was on a smaller scale, certainly, but was no less ornate for its diminutive size. And my closet was only slightly less extravagant, I discovered, rifling through the clothes in case there was something I preferred to my blue dress. There wasn't, so I sat on the bed, drawing the soft coverlet over my legs and preparing to sleep for most of the four-hour journey to District Three.
A soft knock on the door woke me from my nightmare, and I sat up with a choking gasp before I remembered where I was. The dark-haired Avox stood outside my door, and he motioned for me to follow him. He led me to the dining car, where Theta sat before a veritable feast, waiting for me.
"There you are, dear. Did you have a pleasant rest?" Theta had followed her own advice and was now wearing a pink dress and matching shoes. Her lipstick was brilliant pink against her teeth when she spoke.
"Yes, thank you," I said, sitting down across from her. The food smelled wonderful as always, and I loaded my plate with vegetables, which were hard to come by in my district. Not anymore. Now you can buy whatever you want, because you're a victor.
We had barely finished our meal when the train began to slow with a loud screeching of brakes. I shot out of my seat and glued my face to the nearest window, ignoring Theta's protest as I strained to catch a glimpse of my district.
It was late evening, so the sky was dark, and I could see the lights of District Three's factories glowing against the blacker mass of the apartments, which rarely had electricity at night. The train ground to a halt, and I saw the shape of people silhouetted against the harsh light of the station. In our district, trains usually ran to the Capitol filled with electronics and computer components, so the loading area was designed for freight, not an audience.
It was an audience that was waiting for me, though. I heard them even before I wrenched the door open. They were cheering my name. This was the first time I recalled that because I'd won, everyone in my district would get extra food for a year, so I was smiling as I stepped from the train.
Mayor Platina reached for my hand, and I allowed him to take it. He, like everyone else I could see, had a smile on his face. "Welcome home, Memorie," he said warmly. "Please believe me when I say I speak on behalf of the entire district in offering our heartfelt thanks."
"I'm glad to have been of service, Mayor," I said. The words were stilted, overly formal, and not at all what I wanted to say when I was seeing the people I knew and loved for the first time in months, but I'd been in the Capitol too long to remember how to be sincere.
The mayor seemed happy to hear them anyway, because he grinned wider and held my hand up over my head in a gesture of victory. And then the kids from my daycare were there, Cody and Gentry and Magnus and Adeline, that's who I forgot earlier, hugging me and yelling over each other, and I was hugging them back, and the tears I'd been holding in for so long were streaming down my cheeks.
"Oh, Em, I'm so glad you're home!" cried one of the younger girls – I couldn't see who because there were so many little hands reaching for me and the tears were blurring my vision.
"We all watched you," added a boy named Jonas. "Every day. We all thought you were going to die, but you never did." His voice was full of something like awe, and I wished Neera were here to see the gift she'd given these kids by sending me home. But if she was here, I'd be dead, so there went that line of reasoning.
"I'm glad to be home," I said, wiping my tears away – there would be cameras, even here, and I didn't want my joy construed as weakness.
"Will you be my mentor if I'm chosen for the Games?" Jonas asked. "I just turned twelve last Tuesday." The tears threatened to flow again, but I nodded vigorously and made myself smile. Please don't let me have to mentor any twelve-year-olds, I prayed.
I looked up, saw the mayor exchanging wary greetings with Theta, and stood up, gently brushing the children off. "She's had a long day, Mayor Platina," Theta was saying. "Where is Victor's Village in this district? I'll send the Avoxes with her things."
The mayor looked at me, though. Nodding in answer to the plea in his eyes, I placed a hand on my escort's shoulder. "Thank you for your consideration, Theta, but I'd like to spend some more time with the people from my district before I go to my apartment," I said. "You're perfectly welcome to leave; I'm sure you're tired too. The Avoxes can deliver my stuff in the morning."
Theta conceded with poor grace, muttering that I would overtax myself on my very first day home, and didn't these people have any respect for their victor? But I gave her the same look I used on disobedient children – eyes wide, eyebrows raised reprovingly – and she retreated, leaving me free to step down from the platform and into the crowd.
Like the children, people reached out to touch me, a sea of hands lightly brushing my shoulders, my back, my hair. Wherever I walked, silence fell, until it seemed I was walking in a dream world. When I reached the far edge of the station, I turned, standing with my back to the darkness that engulfed the rest of District Three. Only now did I see how many people there were. Standing shoulder to shoulder, they filled the station, just like on reaping day. This had to be almost everyone in the district.
The mayor picked something up from the platform and met my eyes over the heads of all the people. He spoke, his voice amplified by some hidden microphone I'd missed earlier. "Memorie Renwick, we sent you to the Games unknowingly and without support. Against all odds, you returned to us. You had no district token to carry into the arena, so we wish to give you one now, to show our appreciation."
He leaned down and passed something to one of the men standing at the foot of the platform. A ripple went through the crowd as the object moved from person to person, making its way steadily toward me. Finally, a young woman placed the thing into my outstretched palm, and I gazed down at it in wonder.
In my hand rested a necklace. The pendant was a little golden angel, complete with halo and hands folded in prayer. When I picked it up, intending to fasten it around my neck, I caught a glimpse of words etched into the back. For Em Renwick, our angel.
"Thank you," I choked, hoping I was loud enough for everyone to hear. I had no idea how much something like this would cost, and for them to give me any gift at all, especially now that I was wealthier than the mayor himself, was astounding.
The crowd began to disperse, one person after another filing past me in the direction of their apartments. I thanked each one again, and received more smiles than I'd thought my district could hold in a single day. Eventually, Mayor Platina appeared at my shoulder, ushering the last few people out of the station gate.
"You know the way to Victor's Village, Memorie," he said. "Would you like me to escort you there?"
"No thank you," I said softly, still stroking the golden angel with my fingertips. "I'd like some time alone, if you don't mind. The walk will be nice." In our district, Victor's Village wasn't a village at all, but a luxurious apartment building with seven floors. Each floor was meant to house a victor, but we'd only had one – Flux – and he was dead now. I wondered which floor they'd given me.
The sixth, it turned out. I'd reached the white stone building in fifteen minutes; it had always been easy to find, contrasting as it did with the dark concrete-and-steel schema that typified the rest of the structures in the district. I pressed my hand to the scanner beside the towering glass doors, and they opened with a soft chime.
With difficulty, I located the stairwell. It was tucked unobtrusively into one corner, and I suspected it was intended for the maintenance staff only, not the victors, but that was too bad, because I had two working legs for the first time in years, and I wanted to use them. I climbed flight after flight of stairs, checking each door to see if it was unlocked.
The handle to the sixth floor door yielded under my hand, and I pushed it open, blinking in the comparative brightness.
"How do you like it?" someone asked, and I spun in a circle, nearly losing my balance.
Leaning against the wall behind me was a woman with dark, curly hair and green eyes. A smug grin was plastered across her face, and it was that which allowed me to recognize her without the makeup and elaborate clothing she had worn in the Capitol.
"Allison," I breathed, surprising myself with how glad I was to see her.
"Welcome home, Renwick," she said.