Chapter Two
As much as Finnick had calmed the others aboard the hovercraft before, he could do nothing to keep the crew from rushing at Annie once she screamed.
As they pulled her hands back from covering her ears she imagined what Virgilia and the rest of her prep team would have said to see her like this.
"Decorum, my dear," they would have insisted, scandalized by her behavior. "You are from District 4, my dear. Not district 12!"
Once they got hold of her wrists, she thrashed, but she was helpless to stop them from inserting the needle into the inside crook of her elbow. Annie remembered hearing herself protest, however meekly, and from somewhere far away she could make out Finnick's voice saying "calm down," but she wasn't sure if he was talking to her or to the crew.
Almost immediately, she knew she had been sedated. Her whole body shuddered, and her waterlogged clothes suddenly felt unbearably confining and heavy. She managed a feeble, "please," but her words were swallowed up by a sudden darkness that encroached all around her.
It was the eerie hum of the Capital bedroom she had occupied before the games that woke her.
In the slogging moments before her eyes flew open she remembered seeing the shriek of Ril's face before the blade struck him in the back of the neck. How the sound he made was like wet earth being trodden on, and the hot spurt of red blood that seemed to pour out of him and surround her; the pool of it growing bigger and wider.
Virgilia's creaky voice, like a violin out of tune, found her in the darkness of her own memories. "You're awake, dear." Virgilia clasped her hands underneath her dimpled chin and her smile broke into a frightening orange-lipstick grin. "Congratulations, my dear. Oh, I'm so proud of you. Remember before the games I said if it wasn't going to be Ril that they crowned as Victor, than it would surely be you. I told everyone," she affirmed. "Absolutely everyone."
Annie's eyes searched the room. She still felt groggy, but she knew the image of Ril's finally moments was lurking behind her eyes, effectively warding off any desire to go back to sleep.
She noted that Virgilia had been sitting on the edge of her bed before, but now the older woman paced the room, letting her hands fly wildly to match the excitement of her mood and words. Turning her head, and pulling her hair out of her face, Annie noticed that Mag's was sitting, small and hunched as she always was, on the other side of her bed.
The grey haired woman smiled, and brought her withered hand to her own heart in a slow gesture of understanding. Annie smiled, and reached her arms out, embracing the woman who was the second half of her mentoring team.
Virgilia was still hammering on about the crowning and the victory tour, but all Annie could feel was the warm arms of Mag's who held her tight, and rocked her in silent understanding.
Annie broke away. "Where's Finnick?"
"What…?" Virgilia's tone hardened. "Annie," she chided, "I was in the middle of telling you all about the first round of the Victors Tour. Please do not interrupt."
Virgilia had always been a hard woman to warm too. When Annie and Ril were originally introduced to her, Ril had joked that the heavily costumned woman was well past her selling date. It was nearly impossible to tell how old Virgilia really was in the luminous glow of the Capital bedrooms and dining halls, but in the daylight, Annie had noticed the deep lines that creased her eyes and mouth, and how thin wisps of grey hair could sometimes be seen untucked from the brim of her technicolor wigs.
Mag's took Annie's hand, and gestured tword the door, with so smooth a moment of her head, that Annie almost missed it.
Annie's eyes flicked to Virgilia, wondering if she had noticed Mag's gesture.
"What?" Virgilia went on, though her tone had softened a bit. "Oh, Finnick." Virgilia's lips puckered in a gesture so exaggerated that Annie was sure she was doing it unconsciously. She went on to fan herself before continuing. "He's a personal guest of President Snow this evening." She sighed, and her gaze flickered to the corner of the room to imagine the resplendency of such an event. "Along with all the sponsors who supported District 4 throughout, no doubt, will take precedence at the table." A giggle escaped the older woman's lips. "I'd wager that many a young socialite will be vying for our Mr. Odair's attention this evening. Oh," she let out a heavier, more pitiful sigh, "just imagine!"
Mag's looked equal parts murderous and annoyed.
"Well," Virgilia went on, her plucky spirits back in check with the imaginings of Finnick on her own arm, buoying her. "I suppose you'd like to get cleaned up now. Goodness, but the extraction team was afraid to touch you after all the fuss you made after they pulled you out of the water."
The water…
The deep blackness…
Ril's screaming face.
"Come," Virgilia went on. "I've had a bath drawn for you. A good hot soak is exactly what you need."
Mag's squeezed Annie's hand and kissed her lightly on the cheek before Virgilia pulled at her other arm until she was off the bed. Annie's feet were bare, but the wooden floors were glowing with a warm creamy light and they were heated to a temperature warm enough to chase away any chill. "And this hair," Virgilia admonished, pulling Annie down the hall. "I'd be surprised if it doesn't all have to be cut off, it's such a nest of tangles."
The opulence of the bathroom no longer shocked Annie as it had when she first came to the Capital. The bathtub itself was nearly as big as the bedroom she shared with Myrna at the orphanage, and she could see steam rising up from the glassy surface. Annie could smell lavender and rose perfumes wafting up from the towels and soaps as well. Two avox maids approached her quickly, but even though Annie startled from their precise touch as they removed her clothes, she worked at tempering her anxiety.
Had she really won?
How could that be when she had been sure she was about to die?
Virgilia let out a loud hiss when the avox's removed the last piece of clothing to reveal the angry black bruises that covered Annie's stomach and legs. Turning her head to the side, Annie could see similar markings on her back from the mirror's reflection.
Virgilia's hand fluttered against her mouth, aghast. Annie wanted to comfort her by telling her they didn't hurt, but that was a lie. Her whole body felt stiff and sore; like clay ready to shatter if it was ever dropped.
"Well," Virgilia said after several long silent moments passed while Annie examined her wounds. "Let's get you in the warm water, you'll feel so much better afterward. A good soak is always a wonderful balm to sooth the spirit, or so my grandmother always used to say." Even though Virgilia never actually touched Annie, she still felt the guiding force of the older woman's hand behind her.
The tub was raised, and Annie had to walk up several tiled stairs to reach the lip to step in. The water was glassy and clear as crystal. Overhead the skylight shimmered with a cobalt night and a quarter moon which glittered down in reflection to ripple in the water around her.
It reminded her of that other moon.
The moon in the arena—unnaturally full, taking up, it seemed, half of the man-made sky. An egg of a moon; a pearl in a velveteen sky.
Ril, being pulled to his knees. The blade raised. The steal of it shimmering in the moon glow.
Annie's eyes darted to the side of the tub. The tiles were designed in a pattern of red and pink roses, a design so lavish that through Annie's cloudy eyes it looked like blood spray in the water.
Ril. His mouth wide and gaping. The sound of a crunching snap. A choke of wet breath.
Annie's hands flew to her ears—the sound of Ril's last moments echoing through the very marrow of her bones.
She could feel the scream running up her throat long before she felt the burn of it as it passed her lips.
Behind her, she could make out Virgilia's insistence that everything was fine, and her shrill command for Annie to get a hold of herself. The two avox girls remained still in their separate corners, but through her panic Annie could hear the slam of the bathroom door opening and finally, as she crumpled to a heap of twisted limbs and huddled into the smallest position she could manage, she felt the warm reassuring arms of Mag's surround her.
Mag's stoked her cheek and back, gently avoiding the raw bruises, and hummed a simple lullaby until Annie managed to stop crying.
A towel was placed over Annie's nudity, but it felt like a cloak of iron over her bones.
"What happened?" It was Finnick's voice hovering above her. Annie curled herself tighter within herself, and didn't even want to look up to see the expression Mag's must have given him to explain what had happened.
"She was fine," Virgilia insisted in a huff. "She was just about to step into the water. She's fine—see? She's not nearly as hysterical as she was a few moments ago."
"The water?" Finnick repeated, then more firmly, "the water!" Annie felt Mag's release her, and Finnick's arms went around her. "Up you go." He lifted her easily and held her close as he took her from the bathroom. Annie kept her hands as close to her own face as possible to hid and protect herself. "None of that," Finnick chided under his breath. "We're all winners here."
"Virgilia, my love." Finnick's tone had changed to smooth as butter again. "I think Mag's and I can take it from here, but thank you so much for your kind attention."
Though she didn't look up, Annie could feel Finnick moving briskly down the halls toward Mag's part of the apartment.
"As you can image," Finnick went on, "such situations can be difficult. Until the reality of Annie's victory fully sinks in…" Annie heard a door close loudly behind her, and she startled. Finnick had taken her into Mag's bathroom. It was elegant, but far more understated that Annie's was. There was a small tub in one corner, but also a large shower enclosur toward the back with a beautiful patterned glass design. Finnick put her back on her feet, and Annie pulled the towel closer around herself like a shield. She could feel the smile in Finnick's voice. "It's alright—I understand, you don't have to explain to us. Mag's is she gone?"
Finnick moved passed her into the shower and she heard the water spurt on. It was large enough that he had to completely walk in to adjust the heat.
Mag's entered the bathroom silently, and cupped Annie's cheek apologetically.
"There you go," Finnick told her, reemerging from behind the glass. Annie noticed that the cuff of his expensive shirt was damp. "Just close your eyes if you have to, or try to focus on one thing at a time. The longer it takes to get over your fears, the longer it'll take to get back to who you are. Go on, now."
Everything that had made up who she had been felt lost to time now.
Lost to those shaking last seconds before Ril…
Annie obeyed, but she kept the towel around herself until after the glass door was closed behind her and she was sure they couldn't see her. When she was under the water she sighed in pleasure, then hissed in pain. She could feel herself starting to shake; the images from her mind darting up all around her.
"Remember the old Fisherman's song, Annie? Remember how they taught it to you in school?" Finnick sang a few verses aloud to calm her, and she found herself smiling, and then singing along with him, though it had been years since she'd even thought of the childish little rhyme. It distracted her enough to let her wash her hair out and let the water pool around her feet without frightening her.
Just over the glass she could make out Finnick's hushed whisper to Mag's. "They want to see her. I don't know how long I can make excuses." A pause elapsed for Mag's to communicate silently. "..I'm not sure. You know what—well, he's—like, and it's been more than a few years since there was a female victor this young... He'll want to extort her as much as he can. Someone—well, everyone—will pay whatever cost is set for her… I don't know if I can stop them…"
