My name is Cyra Luned and I am from District Five. I live with my grandparents. My father lives in the same apartment block, three storeys up, and I see him as often as we dare. I never knew my mother.
She died in the 37th Hunger games, though few people know I am her daughter. I knew from an early age that it wasn't something we talked about, long before I understood the reasons why.
When my mother was reaped, she was eighteen and I was five months old. My parents had married on her eighteenth birthday, when she was just beginning to show, but that didn't stop her name from being entered into the games twenty five times the following summer. The peacekeepers didn't know, and there wasn't really a precedent for married women to be excused from the reaping. She might not have been the first married woman in the hunger games. She might not even have been the first parent. But those things weren't talked about, because it wasn't safe.
So I knew her through a few photographs and drawings, my father and grandparents' memories, and recaps of the Hunger Games. It's hard to grow up knowing how your mother died. It's worse when you know the face of the man responsible, even if he was just a boy then.
Felix Lothair was the other District 5 tribute that year. He was sixteen at the time, and he won. He left my mother to die, and I hate him. Thankfully he isn't the district five mentor. Since the games began, we have had two male victors; one female - Hardie Rollo. She won the second Hunger Games when she was seventeen, which makes her nearly seventy now. Spens Algirdas won the first quarter quell. Nobody likes him much; he was chosen by our citizens because he'd been stealing since he was twelve. I don't think anyone really wanted him to come back, but he did. Every year he glares at us from the stage like he's daring anyone to say a word against him.
I have never watched the Hunger Games. I know the rules, of course. I know what happens, because they are compulsory viewing across all of Panem. Each year I watch the reapings and the interviews, because I need at least a rudimentary knowledge of what's happening, a handful of names to mention if anyone asks. I know when our district tributes have died and am subdued in class the next day. But I don't watch.
Our television is on, but we all turn our backs. For my mother's sake, it is all we can do. For the rest of the year, life goes on as normal. It's hard; my grandparents work full time in the power plant closest to our home; my father works two miles away, but he's a factory foreman and earns enough that I have never had to sign up for tesserae. I don't think they would have let me anyway, even if the alternative was that we all starved. At least we would die together that way.
When I turned fourteen I started work at the power plant after school. I worked alongside my grandmother for four hours a day, and my life changed. No longer could I wander the streets in the evenings, watching other peoples' lives and despite my red hair somehow manage to melt into the shadows so I was almost never seen. I missed my nocturnal wanderings, but on the upside, I'm earning my own living now, not enough to support myself, but enough that we can feed ourselves and even manage to save up for a few luxuries like fruit and coffee on our birthdays.
I'm privileged, and I know it. Even in the leanest times, my grandmother has a knack of being able to make a meal out of almost nothing. We're reasonably happy, apart from that one day in the year when I have to stand corralled with my friends and pray that it's one of them who gets chosen to die instead of me. Without having to take out tesserae, the odds are in my favour. In my sixteenth year, my name is in the reaping ball just five times. Some people have six or eight times that number, and they are safe. But not me. I am reaped, and as I walk towards the platform on shaky legs, I see something that makes my blood turn to ice.
Instead of Algirdas leering down from the boys' side of the platform, there is a new mentor. My mother's betrayer now stands in pride of place. I freeze, and a peacekeeper has to push me forward. I go, forcing my legs to move though I can't feel them; knowing that my family are watching. Knowing that to show weakness at this stage is as good as admitting a death wish. District Five hasn't had a female victor in fifty years. I say my name into the microphone defiantly, staring out at my friends who are safe for another year, thanks to me.
Leno Bright is chosen for the boys. I barely know him; he's not quite fifteen, small and blonde; and he hides his terror well. His mother screams in despair as he walks forward. When we shake hands, I manage what I hope is a reassuring smile. Then we are taken away, our families come in to say goodbye, and I have to lie. I have to promise my grandparents that I will come back to them; to tell my father that I will come home. None of us are fooled. My grandmother gives me a silver bracelet and, when my hands are shaking too much to accept, she fastens it around my wrist.
I'm escorted onto the train and Hardie Rollo is waiting for me. She looks ancient, far older than her 67 years, but she pulls me into a hug. Before I can protest, she whispers into my ear "Be as brave as your mother" and I know she's recognised me. I step back, and a tear finally spills onto my cheek. She wipes it away and leads me to what will be my room on the journey to the capitol.
I don't emerge during the journey. Food is brought to my room. Hardie comes to see me briefly, but
I barely react. I'm holding too much inside. She thinks I'm just frightened. I let her go on thinking that as I sit on the edge of the bed, staring at the wall, ignoring the fine Capitol clothes. She doesn't know that I dare not risk encountering Felix for fear that I'll try to kill him.
I must be convincing, because Leno comes into my room. He tells me he's scared as well, but that we need to be strong and look good so we can get sponsors. I force a smile, because he's younger than me, he must know we're both going to die, poor kid, and he's still trying to make me feel better. So I ask him to help me pick out an outfit and I venture out as we approach the capitol. We look out of the window and wave, grins frozen like a death rictus on our faces.
I'm scrubbed and brushed and waxed until I think I'm not going to recognise myself, and then my stylist dresses me in a metallic grey sheath dress with sparkling lights. It's not bad actually. Leno's wearing something similar, and grey horses pull our chariot. We paint those wide, fake grins on our faces and wave at the screaming crowd. I try to block them out and more importantly, I block out thoughts of my mother being in this position sixteen years earlier.
I'm exhausted after the ceremony. I barely notice the other tributes, except that most of them are bigger than me. There's a thirteen year old from district 9, and a boy from 3 who looks ten but is apparently 14, but apart from that...
I crawl into bed, mind reeling and convinced that I'll never sleep. The next thing I know is bright sunlight streaming through my window and Volumnia Vipointe trilling that I need to be up and ready for training. I'm terrified all over again, but more in control of myself this morning. Thankfully Hardie sits between me and Leno and is full of advice. We're to try out all the survival stations on the first day and avoid the weapons; keep our heads up and not look frightened, and keep our eyes open for anyone we might want to form an alliance with. My head jerks up in surprise.
"I thought only the careers..."
"Anyone'd think you've never watched the games, girl" she mutters, and I flush red because it's a bit too close to the truth. "The Careers always form an alliance, but that's not to say you can't as well. Watch out for anyone who can do things you can't. If they can recognise plants and you can start a fire, maybe they'll want to join you. Up to you if you let them, of course. Let me know if you see anyone." Hardie makes it sound as if we have a choice, and for the first time I realise that we do. It may only be a choice of how bravely we die, but it's a choice nonetheless.
Belatedly, I realise we haven't seen Felix since the reaping, but decide that can only be a good thing. We ride down to the training area in the elevator with Volumnia, not speaking, staring at the floor. As we reach the ground floor, Leno glances across to me.
"Wanna be in an alliance?"
I manage to grin back. "Sure," I say, trying not to think about the fact that in a few days we'll both likely be dead.
Leno heads for the camouflage station, I go for plants. I find myself with the girl from 9. She seems sweet, and I feel oddly protective of her, but I know better than to ally with a thirteen year old. Besides, she hasn't a clue about the plants, while I manage to get an 88% success rate on edible versus poisonous. I decide to ignore the fact that anything less than 100% in the arena will likely lead to my death, and feel slightly pleased with myself.
I switch to fire starting and Leno tries to make a snare. I keep sneaking glances at what he's doing, trying to learn different skills because if we manage to meet up in the arena, we'll have covered twice as much ground in training. We can compare notes later. I find it fairly easy to start a fire , though I need to use matches. The instructor says she'll show me how to start one from scratch later, and I manage to smile.
At lunchtime, Leno is leading a short, stocky girl over to our small table.
"This is Vila. She's from district 6" he says. I look up and nod, giving her a small smile - a genuine one this time - and a hello. She says hello back, and we eat in silence, as if none if us are sure what to say. In a short time though, we all put away a surprising quantity of food. When I glance around I see most of the others are sitting alone, except for the careers. They're loud and outwardly cheerful, but one or two of them are glancing in our direction. They don't look friendly.
"We can't eat together again. It'll make us a target for the careers" I say quietly. The others nod. "Did your mentor tell you to look for allies?" I ask Vila.
"Dunno." she replies, her accent strange and her vowels flatter than I'm used to "I didn't see her this morning. She's a morphling." I look confused, then remember my grandmother mentioning something about a drug that dulls severe pain. I force myself to look understanding, but Vila doesn't seem to have noticed. "District six is transport. I'm seventeen. Finished school last year. I can carry a forty kilo rail and work fourteen hours straight" she says, staring downwards.
So she wants to be our ally. That's fine by me. "I'm sixteen. I can sneak anywhere and not be noticed and...I started a fire this morning..." I finish uncertainly, unsure of what else I'm good at. Neither of those things are likely to keep me alive for long, though at the back of my mind it occurs to me that if nobody can find me, they won't be able to kill me. Leno doesn't speak. I assume he's already had this conversation with Vila, and wonder what he told her that his strengths were, though I don't ask. We finish by eating an entire chocolate pudding and a full jug of orange juice between us, as if the meal has sealed our alliance. I decide I feel a bit more confident.
In the afternoon I try snares, and then, ignoring Hardie's advice, I make my way over to the throwing knives. The careers are sparring on the other side of the training centre, so I know I'm relatively safe. To my surprise, my aim is reasonable. I manage to at least hit the target seventeen times out of twenty. The trainer tells me six of these are what he calls a kill shot. I try not to shudder.
Over dinner, we report back to Hardie and tell her we want to ally with Vila. She nods. "Leda's a lousy mentor, but she loves them all like her own" she says, shaking her head. "She's going to be thrilled."
Leno and I retreat to his room.
"You're lucky" he says, not looking at me. I'm surprised.
"What?"
"Hardie. She's your mentor. Felix is meant to be mine but I've hardly seen him. You've got a better chance than me"
I bite back what I'm really thinking and just nod, instead saying "She seems to be doing a good enough job for both of us so far." Then I change the subject, talking about the stations and what we've already tried. Tomorrow we'll be allowed to try out the weapons. We're both nervous, though Leno spotted I'd already tried out the knives. He suggests we avoid spears and any station the careers are using. Having already thought of this myself, I agree and make it seem like it was all his idea, not bothering to mention neither of us would be able to lift a mace, much less swing it around our heads, anyway. He seems fairly cheerful when I leave, which makes me feel sad. He's a nice kid, and he tells me his birthday is just two days away. His Mum gave him a scarf that she'd made for his birthday present as his district token.
"I haven't worn it yet. Wouldn't be right to have my present before my birthday" he tells me seriously. I can't answer through the lump in my throat.
There's no sign of Felix again the next morning. Leno tells Hardie we want to try some weapons today, and she agrees with a smile. I get the feeling that our district doesn't often try very hard at this stage, and realise how hard it must be for her to mentor two kids for a week each year who just end up dying in the bloodbath. She must know we've got hardly any chance against the muscular, well trained eighteen year olds we'll be up against in a few days, but something inside me refuses to give up.
The hand-to-hand combat station is empty. I glance at Leno. "Might as well try our luck" I say.
"Together?"
"Why not? All the other weapons stations are occupied."
He's better at it than I am, though we're only allowed to spar with trainers, rather than each other. The Capitol couldn't risk one of us actually getting injured before they threw us into the arena. We go at it all morning, and I concentrate on defence and blocking attacks rather than attempting to cause damage, because I'm too small to be much good at that. We make sure we eat alone, but in the afternoon, when I go to try out the climbing wall, I find a boy next to me. He's got muddy brown eyes and a scar on his upper lip which looks more obvious when he smiles.
"You talked to Vila."
"You're district six?"
"Yeah. I'm Arcturus. Can I join your alliance? I learned traps yesterday."
That's all he says. I get the impression he doesn't like talking much, like me, and wonder how he got the scar. But he's also a much better climber than I am, which could come in useful if we end up in an arena with a forest. And if there are four of us, there's a chance that we'll manage to get some sleep and not be crept up on. I make my decision.
"Okay. See you in the arena. Tell Vila I said hi."
I feel somehow more positive at dinner that night. Four of us working together - at least to begin with - makes me feel more confident about my chances of surviving the first day than if I was just thrown into the arena alone. We tell Hardie over a dinner that lasts nearly two hours, with neither of us wanting to stop eating caramel-covered mango slices. Our mentor nods in approval, her eyes closed. I feel a bit let down by her lack of enthusiasm.
She's not there the next morning. My heart sinks and at the same time seems to rush up into my throat, blocking my airway, as I see Felix standing by the table, looking uncomfortable and awkward. Leno is already eating breakfast, but I can see he looks worried. I look at Felix and his eyes meet mine, and instantly I know that HE knows. He knows who I am, and he doesn't even have the grace to look ashamed. Suddenly I am overwhelmed by a rage I didn't know I had in me, and before I can even think I am running, leaping at him, nails outstretched at his eyes
"You let her die! You let her die! You le..!" I'm pulled off by our escort and Leno, who is also screaming
"She's not dead! She's in the hospital but they say she's going to be okay! It's gonna be okay, Cyra..."
It doesn't make any sense, and then I slowly realise he must be talking about Hardie. That I think she's the one who's dead. I stop fighting to get free, trembling. My hands shake and I turn them over slowly. There's blood under my fingernails.
"She'll be fine, but she's not allowed visitors. I already asked. She told me to mentor both of you now.." I look up unwillingly. There's blood on Felix's face, scratches down both his cheeks that I've put there. He surely knows why, but he's not saying anything. Probably because he doesn't want anyone else to know. I suppress a shudder, suddenly convinced he'll try and keep Leno alive in the arena, but not me. I'm even more glad of district six now. Right on cue, as if he'd heard me, Leno says
"Did she tell you about our alliance? With Vila and Arcturus from six?"
He nods, grabs a serviette from the table and dabs at the cuts on his face as he sits back down. "I already spoke to their mentors...tried to anyway." He doesn't look at me "So this afternoon you get your private session with the gamemakers. You get fifteen minutes to show them what you can do. I don't need to know what that is if you don't want to say, though it'll help with sponsors if you get a reasonable score. Just don't count yourselves out because you're not careers, okay?"
I manage a nod, but no breakfast. I feel too sick.
"She's gonna be okay, really. They said it's something to do with her heart, but they can fix anything in the Capitol. ANYTHING" Leno assures me in the elevator down to the final training session. I wish I had his confidence – or innocence. I try to tell myself it's because he's just a kid, but I'm not much more than a year older than he is. So I force a smile and spend the morning playing with knives and slingshots. Lunch passes in a blur - though at least I'm hungry enough to eat by now - and then we're sitting waiting to be called by the gamemakers. I'm doing my best not to show how nervous I am. Once the girl from district four is called, I know Leno's next, then me.
"See you later. Remember - don't count yourself out just because we're not careers" I say to him when his name's called, loud enough for the rest of the room to hear. He grins and gives me a thumbs up, then waves. I'm surprised to see most of the other tributes either grinning or at least looking more relaxed. I feel a surge of pleasure that I've said the right thing, and decide encouraging them won't do any harm.
"Well why shouldn't it be one of us?" I ask of nobody in particular as I walk out, and decide I mean it.
I start my session with the gamemakers by throwing knives at a dummy. This time I get nine out of ten into the dummy, and four are killshots. Then I start a fire, and finish off by identifying poisonous plants. I don't know how I've done, but I figure it's better than nothing.
I score a six in training and Leno gets a five. Vila and Arcturus get a six and a five as well. Not great, but not bad, and I can tell Volumnia's pleased with us.
We spend the next day preparing for our interviews. How to walk, how to smile, how to answer questions. It's like learning to be someone completely different, and it's made worse because I actually have to be in the same room as Felix. His face looks pretty scratched and I feel a fierce satisfaction, mingled with fear that I'm going to die in the arena. I remind myself that that was always going to happen and at least I've avenged my mother in some small way. I just wish I could tell my grandparents about it.
The interviews are awful and frightening and at the same time I feel proud once they're over. I'm dressed in another silvery grey dress with my hair piled on top of my head. My eyes and lips are silvery grey and I look like some sort of walking metallic statue, but I also feel exotic enough that it gives me a bit of confidence before the cameras. Caesar Flickerman is resplendent with bright orange hair and eyebrows and reminds me of a carnivorous lizard, and I'm relieved that there are only eight people to interview before me. The questions are all much the same whether you're a career or not; how did you get that high training score, what's your favourite thing about the Capitol, who do you miss most back home, are you going to win. I get through it as best I can, feeling more nervous than I've ever even in my life. I almost think I'd rather face all the career tributes together than sit in front of this audience for three minutes and talk about myself. I tell them I miss my grandparents and thank my stylist for the beautiful dress. I say I'd never tasted a mango until four days ago and that alone would be worth coming back for. Caesar asks if I've got any final message and I say that I hope Hardie gets better soon. That gets a big reaction from the audience, and I leave the stage thinking maybe I didn't do too badly.
Leno follows it up by telling the audience that it's his fifteenth birthday, and thanks his Mum for the coarsely-knitted grey scarf that he's wearing round his neck, somehow blending with the rest of his costume. It gets the biggest cheer of the night. I have to bite my lip and look down at my lap so nobody sees the tears in my eyes. The rest of the evening passes in a blur. "Happy birthday" I whisper to Leno as he comes offstage.
"Thanks" he replies with a grin and a look that I don't recognise. We sit through the rest of the interviews and head into the elevator, but it doesn't stop at the fifth floor. "Not tonight" Felix says, and I exchange a glance with Leno, who looks as startled as me. We get up the the sixth floor and the doors open.
"Surprise!" comes the ragged shout. There's a 'Happy Birthday' banner stretched right along the corridor, and both Vila and Arcturus are there, along with their escort and two disturbing figures that must be their mentors. With their yellow, sagging skin and huge hollow eyes, they're a frightening sight at first; but they're smiling and reaching out to hug Leno, and it turns out they've planned this whole thing because they heard it was his birthday and their kids are going to be our allies. I can't help feeling that it's a last happy night for all of us, because we're going to die tomorrow, but at the same time I find myself smiling even though a large part of me wants to cry. And of course the food is brilliant. They've ordered twenty different dishes for us to try, all kinds of meat and fish and fruit that none of us have ever seen before, and a huge chocolate cake with fifteen candles each burning with a different coloured flame.
We eat until none of us can hold anymore, and then play games and chat until surely all the other tributes have gone to bed. Leda, the female mentor, slips away and comes back with something she hands to her male counterpart. My eyes widen as I see him raise a hand to his lips and sigh with pleasure, but I say nothing. A few minutes later I yawn openly and Felix seems to realise how late it is, and tries to usher us out. Vila runs up to Leno and kisses him full on the lips, ignoring everyone else's shocked expressions. Leno blushes redder than the strawberries we'd been gorging ourselves on earlier. Despite what the morning's going to bring, my last thought is relief that we stayed up so late and had a party, and then I fall into an exhausted sleep.
Nonetheless, I'm awake as soon as dawn begins to light my room, my heart racing. I'm terrified that this is the day that I'm going to die, and I can't decide whether I want to go out quickly or whether I'm brave enough to try and stay alive for as long as possible. Because despite my reasonable aim with the knives, I'm afraid it's going to be very different when my target is a living, breathing person.
There's still no sign of Hardie, and when Volumnia comes to escort me to breakfast, I'm already up and dressed, fiddling with my grandmother's bracelet as I pace up and down. When she greets me her voice is somehow softer and more reassuring than it's been before. When we get down to breakfast Leno and Felix are already deep in conversation. I assume Felix is giving some last-minute advice about how to win, and try not to feel angry. It's not Leno's fault, and I feel confident that he won't turn on me once we're in the arena. Once I sit down, they lapse into silence, and I'm in no mood to speak. Volumnia says something to Leno about not forgetting his district token and follows him back to his room. My heart begins beating faster once again as I realise I'm alone with Felix for the first time.
"You're as prepared as you can be" he begins "and I can't do anything more until you actually get into the arena." He gestures to the semi-healed scratches on his face. "You've got guts, and you're not afraid of fighting. You've got a decent chance. I can only bring one of you back, but..." he seems to hesitate "I'll do my best for both of you." For a moment I think he's going to say something more, but he shakes his head slightly and spends the rest of the meal staring at his coffee cup. I don't reply.
My mind is preoccupied and confused on the journey to the arena.
"...or a desert, so finding shelter might be a good idea"
"What?" I'm startled out of my thoughts and realise my stylist's been talking to me. I'd tuned out his high-pitched lisp while he was dressing me in a sleeveless sand-coloured top and matching trousers, with a long-sleeved shirt in the same colour and a brown hooded jacket. My boots are a comfortable dark brown, the kind that feel right even when they're brand new, and I imagine I could walk all day in them. I look down at myself, then back up at him. With his scarlet spiked hair and puce suit he looks like a giant parrot, but he's trying to help.
"Oh. Sorry."
He nods. "It's okay. Desert or savannah is my guess. Water might be hard to find. Your mentor probably said to avoid the cornucopia, but..."
"What?"
"Look around you. Grab anything you can. Anything." He emphasises the last word, and then an alarm sounds. I'm suddenly struck that this might be the last caring voice I ever hear so I fling my arms around him, resisting the temptation to sob. "Hey...hey, it's okay." he tries to sound soothing, just trying to calm me with the tone of his voice, which has risen another couple of semitones. I step away, give him a shaky smile. And then, just as I step into the tube, I say
"My mother died in the Hunger Games. I don't want to end up like her."
I feel a strange sense of satisfaction that for the first time in my life, I've spoken the truth.