A/N: I just thought that the last chapter was shorter than usual, so I ought to post two at once. Review? Pretty please? :)
Recuperating at the Cornucopia, Marvel suddenly stood. Clove followed his example, but I remained where I was. "Did you hear that?" he asked, but before I could ask what he meant, he was off. I pushed myself to my feet and went to stand by Clove. We stood there in silence, waiting. Rustling. And then…
Marvel emerged with something in his hand: a boy. He looked vaguely familiar, but I couldn't place him. "Lookie, lookie, lookie," Marvel purred, "what we have here." We were silent, and he rolled his eyes. "He's District Three, ain't he?"
He was met with blank expressions. "Technology?"
He turned to give Clove his full attention and repeated, teasingly, "Technology." Her face slowly but surely spread into a look of realisation and enlightenment. She grinned.
"Nice catch," she praised, her eyes glowing with admiration. I couldn't help it. I imagined flattening his skull with an iron. If, you know, I had an iron.
Marvel and Clove turned to interrogate him, and all of a sudden I felt like the third wheel. She crossed her arms over her chest, somehow making herself look bigger and more threatening.
Marvel dug something into his back, making him squeal. "You know anything about bombs?" he demanded. Three didn't answer right away, and my guess is Marvel stuck him again, because next I knew, he was gushing, "Yes, yes, yes," with his eyes closed in a prayer.
Feeling Clove's eyes on me, I turned to give her a look that said what the hell? But her mouth simply fell into a crooked tease before she placed her gaze on Marvel and the boy again. As much as I hated to admit it, Marvel was doing a pretty good job of scaring the kid, leaning towards him, his smile crooked and his eyebrows arched, his head moving in a slight nod. Three was trembling.
"In that case, Kevin… We've got a little job for you." He gave him a push.
I puzzled. "How do you know his name?" Marvel didn't seem like the type to associate with other districts if he wasn't using them to survive.
"Who said I did?" he asked, pushing our captive in the direction of the Cornucopia.
"You called him Kevin."
"So?"
Clove snickered and glanced at me in passing. "He doesn't like referring to them by numbers, and real names are too personal."
Raising one eyebrow, I looked at Marvel and realised with a sense of dread that if Clove knew his habits, he knew hers. And that would not work to our advantage. Clove may be smarter than him, but he was stronger, and if he knew her mind, he would prove to be deadly. I'd have to watch him from now on. She may not be able to look after herself this time.
Marvel pulled "Kevin" away, and I was just about to follow him when Clove slid up to me. "So instead of asking what you really want to know, you decide to ask about his name?" she asked me under her breath.
"And what is it I really want to know, if you know everything?"
"I do. And, paraphrased, 'what the hell is going on?'" The heat rising in my cheeks informed her that she was right, and she chuckled soundlessly. "Three's technology," she repeated, less secretively. "Bombs. If we can reposition the mines into a defence system, we could eliminate more threats and not have to worry so much about standing guard. We just have to make sure we don't trample on them ourselves." She tapped my shoulder and uncharacteristically flounced off to join Marvel.
I was hit by a wave of disappointment. Marvel's plan was a good plan. Maybe I'd underestimated him. He had brains, too. And I hadn't thought of it. I hadn't even caught on to it. I'd needed it spoon fed to me. I felt so incompetent in my role. What did I add to the effort, really? What was to stop Marvel slaying me instead of the other way around? It was starting to look more and more likely that that would be the case.
"You sure this'll work?" I asked.
Marvel looked at me like I was insane. "Of course it'll work," he snapped, and I experienced a weird sensation. Since when had we changed places? Tell me, when had I become the annoying accomplice rather than the scheming adversary? I hated it.
I had just decided I would survey the arena when Clove came back over to me. "Can you promise me something?" she asked quietly. It wasn't a whisper, but it was by no means loud enough for Marvel or "Kevin" to hear. Her question wasn't like Glimmer's—Promise?—if only in her delivery. Glimmer's had been pathetic, weak, flirtatious. Clove's was serious, contained… contemplative.
I waited.
"If this blows up in our faces—literally—don't kill him. Not for this. Be smart about it."
On anyone else, her wide eyes would have been interpreted as pleading in all the wrong ways—but I knew that she was only concerned for me. So I promised her.
With a thankful blink, she started to back away as she told me, "You know, you may not think it, but we'll need him. For a while."
I took her word for it, and believed her.
