Stella and I were young to win and we knew it, but I was younger than any winner of the Hunger Games ever. Mags, our mentor, had won the ninth Hunger Games, which had been several generations ago, but she was still sharp as a tack as she looked up over the pair of us.
"Finnick Odair, fourteen," she said, "and Stella Branch, fifteen. A bit young, but not the youngest I've worked with, certainly."
That was true. The girl five years before had been twelve. She'd died in five days after showing considerable promise for one her age. The girl the year before had almost won, but almost doesn't count in the Hunger Games, and Cashmere, a girl from District One managed to spear the killer of the District Four girl, leaving him several days to live out before his infected wound killed him.
He had been from Cahsmere's District, actually. They had gone to school together since they were tiny children.
District Four hadn't won in almost ten years, and that victor was dead, now.
"Well, we can start work right away, if you're not too tired," Mags continued. "Would you like to start now, or wait until morning?"
We were on the train from District Four to the Capitol, freshly reaped for the games. Stella could barely keep her pretty green eyes open, she was so tired. But she was a volunteer. I hadn't volunteered. I wasn't old enough. I wasn't ready yet.
Why no one volunteered in my place it was difficult to say, but I could guess. Volunteering wasn't quite so common in my district than in Districts One and Two, but it was still a very much accepted and almost expected practice. But when my name was called, when the woman with the silly Capitol Clothes called out, "Finnick Odair!" not a soul stirred.
I used to have a lot of friends a school. But that was before I started growing, started, as my mother liked to say, "becoming a man." It wasn't as though my friends all disappeared over night, but they had slowly but surely decreased in number and reliability from the time I turned thirteen.
By the morning of the reaping, it seemed as though I had not a friend left in the world. But maybe it would be better that way.
Stella and I were not friends, of course, which would make it easier to have to kill her in the arena. Still, I would rather someone else take care of her. She was such a pretty girl…I didn't think anyone back home would ever speak to me again if I had to kill her.
It certainly wouldn't regain me any friends, particularly with the boys my age.
"We can start now," I said with a shrug. "Or we can start in the morning. I really don't mind."
"Stella?"
Stella shrugged a little.
"I'm a bit tired," she said honestly. "It's been a long day. I don't mind if you two talk while I go to sleep. I'd prefer we consult separately, anyway."
That wasn't shocking. I hadn't expected us to be long-term allies in the arena. It would certainly make someone else killing her easier if we weren't. She would join up with the Careers in Districts One and Two, and they wouldn't hesitate to take her. She was pretty; she would gain a fair number of sponsors just for that.
Stella went to bed and Mags and I sat watching the television without sound as it replayed the reaping for the third time that day. The boy from District Six was huge.
"Have you thought much about what you'd like your angle to be, Finnick?" Mags asked kindly.
She was a sweet old thing, could have been my grandmother if she wasn't the woman who was my only help in a world where I would be battling for my life. I supposed that would have been rather grandmotherly of her as well, if it wasn't her job.
"No," I admitted. "No, I haven't thought about it much."
Indeed, I hadn't expected to be in the games for another year or two at the very least. My plans certainly weren't set in stone. Not like Stella's, where she had probably worked out how to kill each and every tribute as she watched the reaping. I had sized them up as well, but not in any sophisticated way.
The boy from District Six was huge. The girl from District Twelve seemed sweet. The boy from District Seven seemed confident. The girl from District One was rather small. Little of what I gleaned would keep me alive in the arena.
"That's fine," Mags said kindly. "It's sometimes refreshing to start from scratch. It probably means, at least, that you don't have any preconceived notions of grandeur, which can be as dangerous as the arena and other tributes combined."
We talked for hours about what I was good at: knots, weaving, and fishing. It wasn't at all surprising that Mags was a kindred spirit in this regard. We were from District Four, after all.
"The question is," Mags said after a while, tapping her fingers to her lips thoughtfully, "will your skills at trapping fish translate into trapping on land? I've had a good share of good fishermen over the years, but plenty of them floundered when the Games began. Either there was hardly any water in the arena and they didn't know how to find food or they tried to catch other tributes like fish, but found that land and water weren't enough the same and didn't know how to adjust."
"I can focus on traps," I reasoned. "I can't imagine that it would be too difficult to adjust if I focused on that during training."
"Be careful," Mags cautioned. "You don't want to give away your hand too early. Learn traps, but don't be too good at them during the training sessions. In private sessions, blow them away."
I nodded. That was simple enough. I had plenty of weapons I was plenty proficient with to show off a little during the training like tributes from career districts were expected to do and not give away my most valuable skills.
"What sort of weapon do you feel would be most valuable to you?" Mags asked me, pouring some water for the both of us.
That was a very good question. I could handle myself with a knife, a spear... I told her so.
"But I get the sense those aren't your weapons of choice," she said kindly. "What would you take, if you got the chance to pick a weapon out yourself?"
"I guess…"
"No, don't guess," she said firmly. "Say the first thing that instinct tells you."
"A trident," I said without thinking.
A trident…
It certainly wasn't typical Hunger Games fare. The idea of a trident waiting for me in the Cornucopia was ridiculous, especially as I wouldn't likely have an opportunity to show the Gamemakers any sort of skill with it. There wasn't usually a trident in the training center, either.
"Interesting," Mags said, tapping her fingers to her lips thoughtfully again. "I suppose you'll probably make do with knives and spears and the like…. There's not likely to be a trident at the Cornucopia."
Obviously.
I was unsure why she'd bothered to ask such a question, but then, she couldn't have known that my answer would have been so impossible. I hadn't even known.
"I can think of a few strategies for your interview," Mags said, smiling.
"Like what?"
I hadn't even considered the interview. I was good at talking to people. Strategy had never come to play in my mind. But with the turn my interpersonal relations had taken recently at home, perhaps I could use all the help I could get.
"Well, there are the standards," she said, "but I think we ought to capitalize on how good looking the pair of you are."
Good looking? Me? Sure, I looked older than I was, but Stella was the good-looking one.
"Tell me, Finnick, do you think you're capable of being charming?"
Charming. First she calls me good-looking, then she asks me to be charming…
"Why?" I asked suspiciously.
Mags just smiled in an absent sort of way and said, "Because your life may depend on it."
But that was all for that night. She insisted I get some rest, because the Capitol would be seeing me quite soon.
It turns out the woman in silly Capitol clothes was named Meredith. I'd never paid much attention to her, since she hardly ever gets attention on the televised portions. Only at the reaping, and if one of her tributes wins. Mags and Meredith were in charge of getting Stella and I to and fro to all our important Capitol appointments, as well as determining our strategies for each thing. Meredith was the one who led me off to my stylist, Minna, or at least, to the prep team.
The prep team – Halkyone, Hugh, and Wendell – didn't do quite so much to me. They waxed my body down, but I didn't have much hair yet, anyway, and thankfully none on my face. They washed me clean and ogled at me a bit, and Halkyone said, "Are you sure you're only fourteen?" but otherwise, they left me alone for Minna.
Minna would have been pretty, had it not been for the make-up, the insane hairstyle, and her sour expression that never seemed to leave her face.
"Aeneas says the girl is very pretty as well," she said, almost more to herself than to me as she examined my naked body. "You'll certainly make a very pretty pair."
Aeneas was Stella's stylist, and I wondered if she might already be done with meeting him, or if he had merely peeked in while the prep team was working on her. I always thought girls would take longer.
Minna took my measurements, told me she would dress me up as a fisherman, and Stella would be dressed as a siren.
I tried to picture Stella as a siren. The picture was nice.
The actual fisherman's outfit I was dressed in when the time came, however, was not anything like any sort of fisherman's outfit I had worn or seen worn in District Four. In fact, "outfit" was a bit of a generous word for it.
There was no shirt. The pants were made of sheer mesh, with a rope knotted around the top to keep them up and cover me well enough that I could be shown on television and not scandalize small children completely. Little was left to the imagination.
Even less was left to the imagination with Stella's "outfit". Her beautiful hair, long and dark, was wild around her face. Seaweed surrounded her in a single coil so that it barely covered her more sensitive parts. I was truly glad of the rope.
Apparently, we did well. Some of the costumes were a fair amount more ridiculous, but ours got excellent reviews from Mags and Meredith. I wondered what Mags wore back in her Games… I tried picturing her in the siren outfit Stella had worn, but the idea was a bit scaring, so I shook it from my mind firmly.
Mags suggested that I work on my interview with Meredith first, so that she could have a bit of time with Stella to work over their strategy before training. She told me to be as charming as possible, and took off with Stella. I took a deep breath and sat down.
"So," Meredith said with a broad smile, a gap between her teeth, "how do you feel about the Capitol so far?"
Charming. Be charming.
"I've never seen quite so many beautiful women before," I said, smirking a little bit.
Meredith chuckled.
"Oh, you charmer, you. And Stella? Is she not beautiful?"
"She's the most beautiful girl I've seen in District Four," I said honestly. "But I must admit she outshines far fewer in the Capitol than she does back home."
It was a diplomatic answer, I knew. I hadn't seen anyone half as gorgeous as Stella, but it wouldn't do to say that on television unless I was making some sort of declaration of undying love.
I would make no such declaration. Stella was gorgeous, but she was incredibly stuck-up and self-righteous. She could have the affections of every male in District Four for all I could care. I wouldn't want to be bound with her as my wife.
It was a good thing, then, than it would be impossible, for if either of us lived, it would only be one of us.
Training was interesting. Stella practiced her knots, mostly, while I learned more about land-based traps. It wasn't hard to pretend incompetence. Mags was right, the land traps were vastly different from catching fish. Still, I got to the point when I felt competent enough that I would be able to accomplish them well enough when the time came.
I didn't bother with knots. My knots were better and more complex than anything they could have though to teach me. I practiced with a knife, practiced looking for food (in case there was not enough water for fishing), and watched the career tributes with a wary eye, including Stella.
Stella was very good at her work, that being getting the attention of the other career tributes. If they weren't impressed with her skills with a knife, they were certainly impressed by her pretty face and perfect figure. At least, Tristin and Dilan, the boys, were. I doubted Harmony or Cora cared much for another pretty girl stealing the attention of potential sponsors.
I was so busy watching Stella flirt with Tristin and Dilan that I hardly noticed that I was joined at the camouflage station by three girls who were maybe thirteen or fourteen. I recognized them as the girls from Districts Seven, Eleven, and Twelve.
"Hi," said the girl from District Eleven. "My name is Lila. You're with her, aren't you?"
She nodded over to Stella.
I shrugged a little.
"We're from the same district, if that's what you mean. We're not likely to be allies."
"Oh," said the girl from District Seven. "Jack and I will be. Blight says we'll do better if we stick together until there are about six people left. I don't know if we'll last with such a small alliance, though."
"I told you, Ellie," Lila said in a bossy sort of voice, "you and Jack can join Alana and me and we'll be fine. We can take on the careers."
I tried to bite back a smile, but the corners of my lips definitely turned upwards. Eleven, Twelve, and Seven hadn't had half as many victors combined as any one of the career districts. There certainly was strength in numbers and since I wouldn't but joining the careers…
"Can I tag along?" I asked.
The girls looked at me, surprised for a moment, but then Alana (the girl from District Twelve) smiled and said, "Of course you can. I'm Alana, by the way."
"Finnick," I said, holding out my hand. "Are any of you ladies any good at camouflage?"
As it turned out, Ellie was excellent. Lila was excellent with a slingshot, and Alana, while not particularly deadly with a knife, could carve almost anything, including making a decent harpoon or spear out of just wood.
I met Jack not long after. He was the surly sort, obviously born and raised of lumberjacks. He was not as good looking as Ellie, who herself wasn't particularly pretty, but he was certainly handy with an axe. He sized me up, frowning.
"A bit pretty, but he'll do, I suppose, Lila," Jack said with a frown. "We've got more than the careers, now, if he's with us, but I expect they'll make up for it if they don't kill us all off in the Cornucopia."
Pretty? Why did people keep calling me pretty?
I tossed a knife at the wall over his shoulder, but just barely. I wasn't as good at throwing knives as Stella. I preferred getting up-close and personal with my opponent, but it would be difficult to make a point without hurting him that way, so I took the lesser route. He flinched.
"Right," he muttered. "He'll do. Jack," he added, holding his hand out to me.
"Finnick," I said, reaching over his shoulder and snatching up the knife from the wall, ignoring his hand. He probably thought because he was older than me he would be the alpha in the pack, but I wasn't going to sit back and let someone else's choices govern my destiny in the arena. "Finnick Odair."
When I went to dinner, Mags asked if we'd had a productive day at training.
"Yes," Stella said with a smile. "I've made some alliances. I'm joining the career pack."
"Good, good," Mags said. "And you, Finnick?"
I looked down at my stew and smiled slightly.
"I've made some alliances as well," I told them. "I met a few girls at the camouflage station, and the girl from District Eleven and the boy from District Seven have organized a small alliance. I've joined."
Stella raised an eyebrow challengingly.
"You joined that ragtag bunch?" she scoffed. "There's, what, five of you, yes? I'd be willing to wager you won't total above twenty-five on your scores all put together."
I hadn't actually thought about that. What sorts of scores were they going to get when Alana couldn't even bring herself to draw blood with a knife and Ellie didn't even know how to hold a spear? Still, even if they had low scores, they could be useful to me, and I could probably protect the girls, with a bit of help from Jack.
But it occurred to me that I hadn't paid much attention to Jack. In fact, I had no idea what sort of use he would be at all, apart from the axes, but I could handle with spear and knives well enough. We couldn't even be sure there would be axes available in the Cornucopia, especially if he didn't use that as his skill for the Gamemakers.
Maybe Stella was right. Maybe I had gotten into the most worthless alliance of all, but at least my allies needed me, and didn't just want me around because I looked pretty…. Or did they?