# coughing up blood #
"A broken back with a heart of gold,
The legend of a martyr with no soul.
I'll cough up blood to clear my lungs.
Sinking to the depths. Dragging me to the ocean's floor. With broken wings."
The festival was referred to as the Dawning, and the colours could be seen for miles around. My pale blue hair blended in more than it ever had before, amongst the sea of bright hair styles and costumes and puppets that swarmed the streets. The first day of the Dawning - today - it was always a celebration of the end Dark Days, a rememberance for the Rebellion and a tribute to the memory of the Mockingjay - Katniss Everdeen, the girl on fire, the last tribute.
I stood at the edge of the street, surrounded by Pronvincial people wearing costumes and fancy-dress. My stolen top hat and coat did well enough to blend into the crowd as the actors in their costumes passed.
It was a Panem-wide celebration, and in every Province, every City, every Area, there was a parade and a festival just like this one, where actors dressed up as key figures from the Rebellion and the Dark Days and acted out some of the scenes I remembered from my childhood. As I watched, the girl nearest to me seemed to burst into flame. She raised her arms theatrically as her ivory dress darkened, blackened, until she wore the fabled mockingjay dress. She did not look much like the Mockingjay I remembered from history books - this girl was small and pale, blonde and petite, and her smile was she danced her way along the street. The crowds watching burst into fevered applause and were swept along with the parade - it wasn't a matter of watching the festivities, you were always pulled into them.
Day One was a celebration of freedom. Day Two was a day of mourning for the dead. Day Three was the grand ball to celebrate the rebel's victory over the tyrannical Capitol. And Day Four onwards were the beginnings of the executions - criminals forced to fight to the death as punishment for their crimes. During the Dawning, the fights went on nearly twenty-four seven, and criminals were killed, released and replaced like clockwork.
There was no shortage of criminals during the Dawning.
And that reminded me of my own purpose as I dodged a grinning Abernathy mask and wound my way between two Trinket impersonators. The backpack was heavy in my hands as I left the festivities and walked quickly down the back alley, towards the only shop still open during the Dawning.
Ilan Odair was waiting for me by the window of his tiny apartment shop, looking out onto the festivities. I wondered how he felt about seeing his dead father's image in such a way. Then I realized I didn't really care.
I dropped my bag on the table and cleared my throat. He turned.
"Ausra," he said. "To what do I owe the visit?"
I indicated the bag and folded my arms. "Ten pounds," I said. "And I want thag bounty." I lifted the top hat off my head and twirled it in front of him. He frowned.
"Do you have any proof that he's dead?"
"That's his stuff. This is his hat. This is his coat."
"So the answer is no."
"He loved this hat. You know that."
"It's not proof. You should have brought back the corpse."
"And let you do what to it?" I snapped. "Yes, I know what you do in that back room of yours. I dumped the corpse river. It'll probably show up in a week or two, down in Sector 7."
"Then in a week or two," Ilan said. "You can have your money. What is it - sixteen kian for the stuff?" He indicated the bag.
"I need the rest of the money now."
"Too bad."
I stared at him, feeling my blood begin to boil. "I killed my best friend for that money. The wardens are still looking for me."
He shrugged. "And if you're lucky, the wardens won't catch you until after the Dawning. I recommend you run like you always do, Ausra. I hear Province 11, Sector 5 is very nice this time of year."
He stood; picked up the bag, and dropped a handful of coins onto the table. "Many thanks, Kazlauskien," he said. "You should probably go and enjoy the festivities now." He smiled. "They'll be bringing out the fighters now."