CHAPTER 6: TRAINING DAY

After we returned to our quarters from the parade, dinner was a subdued affair. No one talked. Very few of us touched our food except for when Leandra threatened us with violence unless we had some protein. Even Tori and Pallantia were not their usual flirty, boisterous selves. I did notice they helped themselves to a lot of wine, though. I even had some, though not being a drinker, my head felt fuzzy after one glass. Everyone knew how thoroughly we'd been trampled into the dirt. Even Camille could not put a positive spin on things. All he could manage was to say, "At least you were noticed at the start."

That was met with sighs, disdainful looks, and dry laughs. When it was clear that no one was in the mood for anyone else's company, we all left for bed. I did not sleep well. My own nightmares were of death in all its forms, the vivid sensation of a sword sliding into my abdomen, the sight of a spear protruding from my chest, or a knife slicing my throat open. I even dreamed of being slowly tortured and beaten to death, being drowned, or having my neck twisted around in slow motion. I couldn't fathom how I'd had enough sleep to dream. On top of this, when I awoke through the night, I had to listen to the O' Reilly brothers' pitiful moans of pain and screams of fear as they endured similar nightmares.

I can't blame them, I suppose.

Even without Province 2's offering this year, I was already envisioning how gruesomely I'd die. For them, being the arrogant twits that they are, it is totally different. They are used to being the strongest, the biggest, the meanest around, but now they both know that if one of the boys from Province 2 jumps them, they're finished. The skills we have learned won't be much use in their vice-like grip.

In the end, I give up trying to sleep before sunrise. I use my private shower, which seems to have four times as many options as my shower back home. Luckily, the options for basic hair and shampoo cycles are in the same place in the top left-hand corner. I deliberately turn the water temperature down at the end of my shower to wake myself a bit and then step out from the icy blast shivering. I step into the automated dryer that blasts me with warm air, tearing the cold droplets from my goosebumped skin. When I return to my quarters, a screen on the front of the wardrobe has already compiled a list of suggested attire. Seeing as I'm not due to be anywhere for another four hours, I choose a loose-fitting long-sleeved top and similar lounge trousers. A control pad beside my bed allows me to alter my view of the city through any number of cameras. There isn't much to see at night, but I soon realise that the faux window can look upon anywhere in Paneire as I see images of towns in the surrounding counties that are not unlike my own. I decide to check and see if the screen will respond to voice command. "Settlement 2, County 2."

Sure enough, the image displayed shifts to the cobblestone circular centre of my hometown. My viewpoint looks upon the Mayor's Mansion. I try another command. "Rotate one-eighty degrees."

And it does so. I am now staring down the street where my house is. Without my prompting, the picture changes and it moves down the street until I tell it to stop at my house. I suppose many tributes long to see home when they come here. The light is on in the upstairs bedroom and a dimmer light is on downstairs in the sitting room. Unusual, as father only has to be up for work at eight, seven on a busier day, which is still two hours away. I see a form pass across the bedroom. I'm pretty sure it's my mother. Seeing as I'm in the games, she would most likely be taking tea with the other mothers at the café in the town centre. The amount of preparation that would go into an outing such as that would keep her busy styling, and cleansing and pencilling for hours. I suppose it distracts her from any consideration about what's actually about to happen to me. My father, on the other hand, has no such diversions. If he's up now, he probably never went to bed. I worry for him so much. I really hope it isn't affecting his work. The shop is his livelihood, and it would destroy him to lose it. I wish for him to cope, to hang in there. What good is it, though? If I'm going to die anyways, my well-wishing now won't make a blind bit of difference. "Turn off!"

I can't look at it anymore. It kills me inside just to think of how my family will be when I die. They've already lost too much. I resolve to be strong now and as long as I last in the games. If I can die well, and make them proud, at least they'll have that to hold on to. I start to think that in the end that that won't mean all that much to them. I focus on anything else for thoughts like that will just lead me to suicide. It has happened before. Tributes sometimes become so hopeless either before or during the games that they'll often seek death out, throwing themselves at a superior tribute, a muttation, or simply off something very high. It's a very tempting thought, having it all end so quickly. Of course, depending on how I did it, there would be momentary agony, but that would not last long, especially compared to days or weeks of running and hiding, barely surviving in a hostile environment with twenty-three other people who want you dead.

No! Enough!

I was almost on the verge of convincing myself. I decide to get in an early breakfast. Today is our first training day after all, and I need to be prepared. I go to the lift and head to the General-Purpose Floor. I arrive to find food already on the table. They could probably tell that I was on my way up. I stride over to the table, heading straight for the nearest platter when something catches my notice. It is the slightest of creaks, but my hearing is something I've honed my whole life. Someone is sneaking up on me. I do not break my stride. That would be the clearest sign I know they're there. I keep moving towards the table. Whoever it is, they are inept at stealth, their footfalls become very audible as they quicken their pace. I realise as well that they are too heavy and graceless to be one of the girls. I don't care who it is, but I'm not about to be jumped on this day of all days. They're coming up behind me. I just reach the table, pick up an oversized saltshaker, and pirouette just in time to strike them in the throat.

Festus gasps and is on his knees choking almost immediately.

I'm beginning to think that the O' Reilly brothers will be the least of my concerns when I enter the arena. Even the girls could make a better attempt on my life than this. They at least mastered stealth, one of the first things we were ever taught. Festus is spluttering before me and though he's flushed from me nearly crushing his larynx, I notice his eyes are puffy and red and there's the faint trace of dried tears. Had he been crying? I would have thought that would be an alien concept to him. Pity gets the better of me eventually and I grab a glass of water for him. When I offer it at first, he seems wary as though I'm handing him poison. He takes it in the end as he's getting his breath back. I say, "What the hell was that?"

"…I was trying to prove something…to myself."

"What exactly?"

"That I'm a good Career."

"What do you mean?"

"I wanted to prove I have as much of a chance of winning as anyone."

"You mean as much as Korvin."

He flinches but nods in agreement. He struggles to his feet and slumps onto one of the chairs at the dining table. He says, "I guess if even someone half my size can bring me down, I'm pretty much a goner."

"I'm more than half your size, Festus."

"Not much more."

"Whatever, the point is that you were noisier than a drunken elephant in a forest and anyone with ears could have done what I did. Even the girls know the throat-crushing technique."

"Wow, way to make me feel better."

"I wasn't trying to, but you wanted to know what you did wrong."

"Just leave me be, Cato, you're just pissing me off."

"Gladly."

I pick up a platter with assorted breakfast staples such as eggs, sausages, and bacon with some brown soda bread on the side. I'm about to turn away when Festus says, "Was Ezio a good brother?"

I am shocked so much that I almost drop the platter. I can't even utter a word. Ezio's death flashes in my memory. I shudder as the horror mingles with the dismay and fury that Festus would even dare speak his name, let alone bring him up in my presence. I make no effort to conceal my ire as I say, "What's it to you?"

"I just want to know."

"It's none of your business."

"I don't want details. I just want a yes or a no."

"…Then yes, he was, satisfied?"

"Would he have betrayed you?"

"No."

"Would he have hurt you? Would he have killed you, even if you were both in the games?"

"…No, not a chance."

"…That must be nice, to be so sure of someone."

I calm a bit. It's hard not to pity him. "I know why you're asking these questions, Festus, but weren't you sure of your brother up until we came here?"

"…I've trusted my brother all my life, Cato, only to be made a fool of. When we were kids, I'd boost him up to the counter in the kitchen so he could reach mother's biscuit tin. He always promised to share them with me but always stashed them away somewhere I'd never find them. If I got pushy, he'd tell mother I stole them, and he was the good one for telling. I don't know if mother ever believed him but father is very black and white, so I always got the beatings. When we became Careers, we knew we'd be volunteering the same year. Mother and even father wanted one of us to volunteer when we were seventeen in case we were both chosen, but Korvin convinced me that the chances both of us would be selected would be slim and that even if we were, it wasn't like we'd be the ones to kill one another. I believed him, despite everything, even knowing how important it is for him to win. Part of me even knew it was more important than family, more so than me. Well, I'm the fool again."

I don't know this person. This can't be Festus. Festus wouldn't speak so frankly, not to me at any rate, and even if he did, he would not speak that well. This is not a simple-minded brute or a belligerent lummox who sits before me, things I'd always thought of him, this is someone who is introspective, very aware but, ironically, a touch naïve or perhaps someone who just wants his brother to actually treat him like a brother. So, yes, naïve is the right word, but the guy looks like a puppy that's been kicked right now. Maybe he really was crying. I'm about to respond when he says, "I heard your shouts from your bedroom. Did you have bad dreams, too?"

"Yeah, I did."

"What did you dream about?"

"I dreamed of all the ways I might die in the games, hoping against hope for the quickest ones."

"Korvin was probably dreaming of something similar, though, I'm guessing in his dreams he's almost won only to have it snatched from him by his last competitor. I can hear the disappointment in his voice." I actually smile at that. It's weird to be smiling in Festus's presence like it's unnatural or something. He asks, "Do you know what I was dreaming about, Cato?"

"Dying, like the rest of us."

"Yes, but for me, it's a little different. I dream of how my brother will kill me. Make no mistake, it will happen. What I don't know is whether we'll be the last ones standing and will we fight to the death or will he trick me into thinking all is well again and then stab me in the back, get rid of me early. Will he kill me quickly, snap my neck, knife me in the chest or will he torture me?"

"Festus, you've resigned yourself to your fate like it's inevitable. Korvin is no more capable than you are as a fighter."

"If only it were that simple."

"What do you mean?"

"Korvin's smarter than I am, and sneakier. He won't fight fair, and that's not even the worst part?"

"What is?"

"I'm better than him. I won't kill my brother, Cato. I don't even like fighting with him. Why do you think he got off so easy in our fight the other night? Point is that I'd rather be dead than sink to his level, and I'm going to get my wish."

"I-ah, I don't know what to tell you, Festus."

"You don't have to. You listened, that's all I needed. Can I ask you one thing, though?"

"I guess."

"If he kills me, and you're still standing, whatever you do, don't let him win."

It is hard to resolve that conversation with what I thought was reality. The last thing Festus said to me resonates the most. He basically asked me to avenge him as weird as that is. Perhaps, though, I am thinking too simply. He wants me to stop him from winning. Although, I'll be made aware of the deaths of tributes during the games, unless I am physically present, I won't know who killed Festus. From that, I can take but one thing. Festus just wants me to stop his brother winning full stop. I have absolutely no qualms about that except the amount of personal risk I'd be running, but my ability with long-range weapons will definitely level the playing field. Something that I am absolutely not to demonstrate during training. "But Leandra, archery and spear throwing are my best skills."

"Listen here you brat, I am your mentor here, not your sister, which means everything I say goes without question, am I understood?"

"Then what am I supposed to do during training?"

"Learn something new."

"Say what?"

"Don't look at me like I'm drunk or I'll beat you bloody silly. I mean take the time to learn a skill you don't know like trapping, or survival skills."

"Why would I need those? You know Province 1 tributes nearly always retain control of the cornucopia."

"Nearly always, have you never watched the clips of my games?"

"No, I can't say I have."

"In my games, we were faced with a very strong showing from all the other provinces. Province 2's tributes were all workers, very big and very strong. Even some of the 3 and 4 tributes were physically impressive. My fellow Careers did as every Career before them has done; tried to hold the cornucopia, kill as many as possible before they escape and any who try to challenge us. I knew we didn't stand as much chance as usual, so I ran."

"You ran? You left the cornucopia behind?"

"It's the only reason I'm standing here today. Two of us ran, four stayed, the others temporarily aligned against them, they got slaughtered. I think you know I'm not exactly one with nature so running off into the wilderness wasn't an easy choice to make. I really wanted to stick to what I knew. If I hadn't learned basic survival skills during training, I would have died of dehydration and exposure long before anyone found me. I think you understand that a similar situation could arise this time."

"You have a point."

"Here's another, do you think you can really trust your fellow Careers? I know the usual pact, stick together until all other tributes are eliminated and then all bets are off. If I were you, I wouldn't just consider running because of the threat the other provinces pose, I'd run because my so-called comrades are a bunch of backstabbers."

"Point taken."

"Excellent, now with your archery skills, hunting shouldn't be a problem but do learn how to prepare food, as in skinning and cleaning birds and squirrels and such. Learn what you can and cannot eat, how to find water and shelter. Learn about snares, too. If you have to sleep on the ground, having a few of those set up around will be a nasty surprise to any unwelcome visitors. Now, let's be off."

The training rooms are actually in the sublevels, the same as the stables, but the elevator descends to the stables and then moves horizontally bypassing them to bring us to our destination, which is actually below the Grand Square. On arriving, the training gymnasium is as I expected from Joss's accounts. There are weapons of every kind on multiple stations and numerous obstacle courses. It's nothing I'm not familiar with, the only difference between here and the Training Grounds back home is the lack of mud and dirt. We are first to arrive but we've no sooner disembarked from the elevator before it closes and zooms away to collect the next lot of tributes. Each of us gets a square piece of cloth with the number one on it pinned to our backs, as if we needed something to differentiate us, anyone can tell the tributes from each province apart. Korvin and the girls look keen to begin, eyeing the weapons with gleeful longing like children within reach of their favourite toys. Festus still looks withdrawn and sombre. Before long, the others arrive with their escorts who, like Sidra, almost immediately depart, releasing us into the custody of the head trainer. This is the first time I get to see the other tributes properly. I wasn't mistaken about the Province 2 tributes. In fact, in person, they seem twice as big as they did during the parade, or maybe that's just the anxiety of being in their presence. The boys are all over six foot, are all broad with bulging arms, chests, and pretty much every muscle group besides, and they all have healed scars somewhere on them. Some of them must have been seriously nasty injuries, but they sport them like tattoos or badges of honour. All but one of the girls is taller than me, but their physiques are wirier. They still bear the marks of past injuries and look no less tough than the boys do.

The 3s are all tall but very thin with weatherworn skin and hair. I've heard that when a child in Province 3 becomes old enough to be a tribute, they are considered old enough to work. This could mean anything from sorting and prepping the fish catches to building the ships to actually sailing out into the dangerous ocean on their trawlers. The youngest of them is a boy who I guess is fourteen, but he already bears the signs of having worked hard for years. All of them look resigned and stare at the ground without a hint of spirit. I don't believe any of them will pose a threat. In all likelihood, none of them will make it away from the cornucopia.

This is my first time getting a good look at the 4s. They work the land and some have the same look about them as the 3s, but they look healthier than they do Their skin tone is darker, and it is not as worn but more calloused, especially around their hands. I'm surprised really that their stylists hadn't attempted to moisturise and abrade all that hardness off them, but I guess it takes more than some basic cosmetic procedures to erase years of hard labour. One of the boys looks fairly impressive. He has to be the oldest, and he definitely looks less than happy to be here. Of course, none of them are exactly pleased about their circumstances, but he looks enraged and very hard done by. I'm guessing he's eighteen, and this was the last year he could be selected and low and behold, he was. He's not as big as the Province 2 tributes, but he could definitely be a challenge to me or the O' Reilly brothers if he managed to jump us. The others look meek and mostly stare at the ground, except for one young boy with red hair who seems in awe of his competition. He must be twelve, he's very small, and though not as prim as a child his age from my province, he doesn't look like he's done a lot of hard work. An older girl, with red hair also, stands very close to him. She's my age I think. She's almost my height and whilst not as taut as the Province 2 girls, she does not look weak. She hovers over the boy very protectively and upon noticing his blatant stares, she whispers something to him, and he looks at the ground with redness rising in his cheeks. I catch her eyes for a brief moment. To my surprise, she seems defiant, not fearful or even uncertain. She is by no means the worst off of the tributes but to me, her boldness seems a little unwarranted.

As soon as we are all present, we form a tight circle and the head trainer stands in the middle. He is a middle-aged man with almost totally grey hair but is athletic and tall with piercing green eyes that stand out from his pale, stubbly face. He gives the impression that he will tolerate no nonsense. As if to reaffirm that impression, he begins his lecture by stating that we are not to engage in combative training exercises with other tributes and that assistants are on hand if we require a partner. Telling us his name is Lucius seems to come as an afterthought. He goes down through the list of stations that range from survival, edible plants, and camouflage to knife throwing, sword fighting, and long-range weaponry. I eye the bows and arrows and the spears longingly, but I'm not supposed to reveal my best skills to my opponents until we're in the games. He tells us we are free to go to any station we choose but to keep our mentors' instructions in mind. When he releases us, the Province 2 tributes cut in front of us and make for the swords and axes. They ask the instructors to demonstrate fighting skills to them. They handle weapons like worker's tools, which the girls and Korvin scoff at but when the largest boy brings an axe that I could barely wield down upon a log provided, slicing it neatly in half, they lose their grins and disperse. The Province 2 tributes' chuckling lasts a good ten minutes.

I don't move on but only because I'm not sure where to begin. The 2s have taken up the swords and axes, Tori and Pallantia are practicing their knife-throwing, Ignatia is familiarising herself with blowguns and other uses of poisons, and Korvin is already going hard on the weights as if he'll build a load of muscle mass between now and the games. I notice at the long-range weapons station that there aren't just standard bows and arrows. I notice two bows are much larger with longer, thicker arrows. These are longbows and I've never used one as when I was younger, the bow was taller than myself. We had only one at the Training Grounds, a beautifully crafted bow that was snapped by some belligerent Career who had a disagreement with Joss. My brother made him pay for his destructive tantrum. I think that Career was killed in the games a few years ago by an arrow to the chest ironically. The craftsman who made our last longbow is dead now, and his apprentices have yet to get around to replacing it. Longbows are certainly harder to wield but have a longer range and fire with more force. If I familiarised myself with it, I wouldn't technically be defying Leandra's instructions as this is a skill I don't know. Okay, so that's a lie, so maybe it would be best to move on but then I spot something. At the end of the weapon shelves is something I've never seen before. It is a bow mounted upon a stick with some kind of mechanism to hold the bow taut. I walk over and pick it up. I quickly realise it isn't meant to be held like a normal bow but like one of the guns the peacekeepers carry. The trainer approaches me. I ask, "What is this?"

"It's a crossbow."

"Never heard of it."

"It's only been allowed in the games this year. It's like a mechanical bow. You load these bolts, press the release mechanism, and it shoots."

The bolts are short but look deadly with their razor-sharp metal tips. The trainer quickly shows me how to load the bolts and how to best aim the crossbow. With a little practice, I am certain that I can master this weapon, but I don't try my luck. The trainer asks, "Why?"

"My mentor wanted me to try other things if you know what I mean."

The trainer follows my meaning completely and releases me. Clearly, not revealing your best skill is common practice. I decide since I know nothing about living in the wild that I should try my hand at survival skills. The trainer is an older man, much like Lucius, but his face is softer and friendlier. He says, "Hello, young man, are you interested in what I have to offer?"

"I reply, "Well, yeah," thinking that that should be obvious.

"But you're a Province 1 tribute. I don't get many of you at my station."

"I like to prepare for all eventualities."

"That's sensible. Well, I'm guessing you know next to nothing about survival."

"No, just plain nothing."

"Well then, let us start with the basics."

I was with him from shortly after we arrived at nine right up until lunch at one. Luckily, we weren't interrupted. Some tributes showed a passing interest in the survival station, but the 3s and 4s were more concerned with learning how to fight in the first place, and the 2s and my fellow 1s were too busy showing off and menacing each other. In that time, I became proficient at starting fires with nothing more than two sticks and some dry kindling. I also learned how to find shelter or failing that, how to make some myself. I learned how to find water and how to move silently through the forest so as not to alert prey animals to my presence, although stealth is something that comes easily to me anyways. However, skinning, cleaning, and butchering my kills before I cook them was something I had some difficulty with. It was gross, especially considering they had real dead birds and rodents for me to practice on. I did my best, but I usually ended up butchering my food in a bad way. I suppose I'll have to get used to blood and guts from here on out.

Breakfast and dinner are had on our own floor, but lunch is served in the sublevels, and all twenty-four of us eat together. It's self-service so I just load up on protein. Korvin might have it right somewhat, I still could put on a pound or two of muscle before the games and every last bit of weight and strength counts. It's after lunch that the Gamemakers arrive, all dressed in purple robes. They observe us from elevated stands where they take notes or stuff their faces at a perpetual banquet. Occasionally, they come down into the gymnasium simply to watch more closely or consult with the trainers. I notice a lot of them have their attention squarely focussed on the 2s, barely noticing the rest of us. The 3s and 4s are too nervy to even notice, but Korvin, Pallantia, and Tori seem furious. Ignatia and Festus just don't seem to care. At one point, the Gamemakers go to consult with the survival trainer and seeing as I've been his only student today, he indicates me and seemes to give me a glowing review, until he indicates the animal entrails on the table behind him. The Gamemakers avert their eyes and wrinkle their noises furiously. One even leaves feeling ill.

Well, I suppose the one I made sick will remember me.

For the afternoon, I decided to learn how to tie knots and set some basic snares. This trainer is a woman in her thirties and she, too, seems very pleased to finally have a student. She shows me how to use snares to catch animals, which would make hunting a lot easier. She also shows me a rather interesting snare trap that could leave one of my opponents dangling from a tree by their leg. A tribute from Province 3 shows interest, too, and the trainer is positively delighted. She leaves me to practice by myself. It's just then when Festus shows up beside me. He says, "Do you mind if I join you?"

Politeness, I didn't even think he knew what that was. I'm wondering what effect our conversation earlier had on Festus. Does he think we've become friends or are at least on civil terms? I can't afford that, especially when we're in the games, but he looks so melancholy and beaten down that I don't have it in me to say no, though I shouldn't really be encouraging this. When he sits down beside me, I think that if these were the games and we were at the cornucopia, 1s left only, befriending me would be the perfect strategy to take me off guard in that situation. He is easily strong enough to snap my neck in seconds even if he isn't that silent or quick. Yet, whilst I've seen another side to Festus today, I still can't credit him with that degree of deviousness. He just doesn't have it in him to strategise in such a sly and conniving way. Whether that's from a lack of cleverness or some inherent goodness he may have, I don't know, but I decide to give him the benefit of the doubt. He asks, "Why have you gone to all these weird stations?"

"Leandra told me to learn something I didn't already know. I know how to use all those weapons, so I'm just broadening my horizons."

"Am, what are you doing exactly?"

"Learning how to dangle someone from a tree."

"Wow, can you explain it to me?"

It took half an hour just for him to get his head around the basic snares and then the one he actually wanted took twice as long. I could see he was concentrating really hard, so I tried not to get frustrated. We are due to head back for dinner at five, so that leaves me ninety more minutes to practice myself. When we are finished, he asks, "What do you make of the 2s this year?"

I turn around and see the boys have become very good sword fighters in a short space of time, and the girls have become handy at knife throwing. I guess to them these are just tools required to do a job and with that mindset, they could eventually get their heads around anything. I reply, "I'm guessing the boys have twenty kilos on you, probably closer to thirty on me. They're strong and quick to learn. The girls mightn't have as much mass, but that doesn't mean we can discount them, they're just as smart and they'll be more nimble than the boys."

Festus absorbs everything I said for a moment and says, "So, you can still do this."

"Huh?"

"Out of the six Careers, you have the best shot with…"

"Ssh, keep your voice down. I don't want them to know that."

"Oh yeah, sorry, but what I'm saying is that the rest of us can't rely on that. We'll have to fight in close quarters. You won't."

"Yes, but if I'm forced to do that then I'll lose, especially to the 2s. Fighting with bladed weapons and hand to hand is what the rest of you are good at. I mean you hit the punching bag in the Training Grounds so hard once that your fist went through it, and the girls are so slippery, I mean they can bend in ways I didn't think were humanly possible."

"Yes, I know, it almost makes you want to let them beat you up."

I laugh and the foreign noise seems to draw the attention of the other tributes. The 3s and 4s seem so confused as to how I could possibly be smiling right now. The 2s sneer at us, but Korvin seems simultaneously confused and offended at our camaraderie. Everyone returns to their business after a few seconds, but I can still feel Korvin's eyes burning into the back of my head. I say, "My point is under different circumstances, anyone can win, even a 3 or 4. I mean look at that big farmer guy."

The eighteen-year-old from Province 4 seems to be doing quite well with an axe and has developed a comradeship of his own with the 2s. Festus says, "I guess. I'm out already because of Korvin."

"Not if someone else kills him."

"No, if it's not you then it'll be him. He's too determined. The 2s might be a problem, but he's insane and he's sneaky. He'll figure it out."

"What's with this sudden confidence in my abilities?"

"You don't get it, do you?"

"What?"

"Why do you think Korvin hates you so much? He's jealous."

"Seriously?"

"Cato, you come from like the royal family of all victors and you're not resting on your family's laurels. You're actually good. Korvin might be bigger and stronger, but you're smarter and more skilled. If it came down to you two, you'd win."

"I find it hard to believe."

"Well, I was jealous, too, but not in the same way. I wished I could do what you do. Korvin thinks you make him look bad and wants you dead for it."

"That's not at all surprising."

We sit in silence for a minute, idly making our knots when Festus says, "Ah, Cato, I think you have an admirer."

"Are Tori and Pallantia taking the piss again?"

"No, it's that red-haired girl."

I look in the direction he's looking. Sure enough, there she is, the red-haired girl from earlier with the little boy at the edible plants station. She looks away as soon as I look over. She is talking to the little boy like she's the one showing him what plants he can and cannot eat. This must be the case because the trainer is just looking on approvingly as she runs through the images on a computer screen. She risks looking again, thinking I'm not paying attention anymore. She is quite pretty, not conveying the over the top sensuality of Tori and Pallantia but not cold like Ignatia. She still has a certain fire about her, a strength that could be quite formidable. We catch each other looking again, and she seems to challenge me somehow with her eyes. Just at that moment, our escorts arrive. It's time to get ready for dinner. As Festus and I move off, the girl brings the boy away with an arm around his shoulders. She turns back once more and gives me that same look. I can't say I know what to make of it. It should read straight off as bad, but something draws me on until I almost crash into Sidra. She says, "Ah, I know I'm small, but you're supposed to be observant."

"Am, sorry."

"What were you looking at?"

She's gone. When I look up, the 4s have all departed first. I know it's a distraction from what I'm here for but for some reason, I really want to take up the challenge of the red-haired girl.