It felt like an eternity before the interviews were over, but finally, the lights went down and the tributes were being herded off stage. I could hear my name being repeated among them, mostly in disgust, but I didn't care. All of my energy had been wasted. I had none left to maintain the act. So, instead of making my way back to my mentors and stylist like I was supposed to, I pushed my way through the tributes until I caught sight of the one I was looking for.
"Iris!" I called, shoving past the District 6 tribute, who I thought might be called Karmen. Iris spun, her dress moving like water, and her face splitting into a grin.
"Blake!" she breathed, rushing forward, and I hauled her into a tight hug without a second's hesitation. I knew it was a bad idea - just one more person to add to my list - but she was already in the Games. At least one of us was going to die, and then it would all be over.
"Hey, kiddo," I smiled shakily, leaning back and looking down at her. She was reasonably small for a thirteen year old, more like a little child than a teenager, and I wanted nothing more than to be able to protect her, to take her place, but that was impossible.
Her eyes were shining. "I don't know what to do, Blake," she whispered fearfully, and my throat closed up. My eyes darted backward, where Finnick, Ione and Myles were waiting for her. I took a ragged breath, shaking my head and bending down to Iris's level to look her in the eye.
"Listen to me," I told her sternly. "The moment that countdown ends tomorrow morning, you find me, okay? Don't run for cover, you're better than that. But you find me, and you stay with me, okay? Promise me."
Her eyes welled up with tears. "Only one survives," she choked quietly, and someone cleared their throat. I started, glancing sideways, just to see that Ezra Snow was back with his bodyguards. Iris shuffled closer to me.
My lips pursed. "I know, Iris," I mumbled, wiping her tears away with my thumb. Then I winked at her sadly. "But I never said I was trying to win." She choked, but I straightened out and pulled her into another hug, kissing her forehead before shooting Finnick a pleading look.
Immediately, he strode forward to take Iris away from me, frowning slightly in Ezra's direction. "Sir," he acknowledged darkly, nodding once.
"Mr Odair," Ezra smiled politely. "Miss Hart, if you don't mind." He gestured to the side. I opened my mouth to agree, but Ione was suddenly in front of me, scowling furiously.
"Yes, she does," she protested.
I gawped, stunned, and well aware that tributes and mentors alike were watching us like hawks. In the background, Seeder and Chaff seemed to be debating whether or not to intervene. "Wait, I-"
"Blake," Ione interrupted without looking at me. "Go back to your floor. Quietly." I blinked, torn between fear and irritation. All these years, and now she wanted to be my mother?
Ezra lifted an eyebrow. "Here is not really the place to be making a scene," he said quietly.
"Then don't threaten my daughter," Ione warned under her breath, and I felt myself shrink. Not knowing where to turn next, my eyes found the person closest. Finnick had handed Iris over to Myles, and was now hovering to the side, watching Ione cautiously. When he noticed me looking, he held his hand out and took mine.
"I'll take her back to her floor," he said. "If that's alright with you, sir?" He waited for Ezra's say so, and the man looked mildly amused. He nodded once without taking his eyes off Ione, and I staggered somewhat reluctantly beside Finnick.
He said nothing, moving straight past the other mentors and tributes and leading me around to another door that led back toward the Training Centre. I was very aware that he was still holding my right hand in his, his left arm around my waist like I was about to collapse. "What are you doing?" I finally managed to ask.
He cast me a sideways glance, smirking slightly. "Taking you back to your quarters before you cause any more trouble," he shrugged.
I frowned. "I know where it is. I don't need any help."
He hesitated, then let my hand go and moved his arm away. I shivered before I could help it, and he laughed, his eyes shining. "You need my jacket?"
"Stop," I glowered, and he chuckled.
"You know, I like you a lot better when you're being sarcastic," he grinned.
I shivered again, unable to stop my face falling. "You and the rest of the Capitol," I grumbled back, and his smile disappeared. It looked like he wanted to say something, but couldn't quite find the right words. I snorted, managing a small smirk. "Forget about it. After all, who wouldn't prefer the smart ass, witty, hot shot Victor's daughter to a regular orphan girl from District 11, right?"
Finnick stared at me as I stepped into the elevator, hesitating a moment before he followed me. "I guess you're going to have to show me the real you when you get out of there, huh?" he suggested quietly.
I flinched before I could help it. "I'm not getting out," I gulped.
"Don't talk like that," he ordered.
"You have your own tributes to worry about, Finnick," I reminded him sourly.
He turned and fixed me with a stern look. "You are one of my tributes, Blake," he frowned. "Like it or not, you're a District 4 tribute as well as 11, and now everyone knows it. I'm not turning my back on you just because you weren't picked out alongside Myles."
I stared back, speechless for a moment. "Ione did," I said, in barely a whisper.
He shook his head furiously. "No, she didn't. Never. You were with the Lockarts because she was in trouble, and she didn't want to drag you into it. She moved you to District 11 because they were going to plant you into the Games that year."
"And they have this year!" I retorted, suddenly angry again. "Only now, I'm up against a little girl I spent most of my childhood protecting!" Finnick's face fell. "She should have left me there that year. She should have let me go into those Games instead of Annie."
He didn't say anything, but I could tell the mention of Annie Cresta rattled him. I turned away, my stomach squirming awkwardly. "She should never have had to step foot in those Games," I murmured. "I should have been there. If I'd been there, like I should have been, she wouldn't have seen that. She wouldn't be like this. It's my faul-"
"Stop."
I cut off, trying not to notice Finnick's clenched fists and shaking muscles. A lump formed in my throat, but I already knew what he was thinking. If it had been a choice between protecting me or Annie Cresta, he'd have chosen Annie every time, and I didn't blame him in the slightest.
The elevator doors gave a ding as they opened up onto Floor 11, and I took a shaky breath as I started forward. But Finnick reached out and grabbed my wrist, holding the doors open with his free hand. "Blake, wait," he insisted quietly.
Reluctantly, I turned to look at him again. "Don't try and talk me out of this, Finnick," I gulped. "I've already made up my mind."
He gulped. "I won't. But I'm still not turning away." Without another word, he slipped something off one of his fingers; a thick, golden ring with an intricate design around the outer edge. "Here," he said, holding it out to me.
I frowned curiously. "What is it?"
"Take it," he insisted, and I held my hand out to him. He dropped the ring into the centre of my palm, and I pulled it closer to scan it, turning it in my hands. With a jolt, I realised I recognised it. Finnick snorted. "It was my token in the Games. I want you to wear it tomorrow."
My throat closed up, and I shook my head, holding it back out to him. "I can't," I gulped. "This is yours."
He managed a half smile, stepping back into the elevator and hitting the button for the 4th Floor. "Then I guess you'll just have to get it back to me, huh?" he winked. My face tightened in irritation, but the door shut before I could reply.
In that moment, I couldn't decide whether I admired or despised Finnick Odair.
The others weren't back yet, so I made my way back to my room and shut the door tightly behind me. Wrapping the train of my dress over one of my arms, I perched myself on the end of my bed and rolled Finnick's ring around my fingers. It was solid gold, obviously expensive, but that wouldn't matter to a Hunger Games Victor. They were all filthy rich. But if this was the token he wore in the Games, it obviously held some sentimental value, even if he didn't like it.
Wearing it was a huge statement. It played right into the picture Caesar had set up in the interview by completely disowning District 11. The idea still sickened me, but maybe District 4 wasn't as bad as I'd thought. Sighing heavily, I unclipped the strap around my neck and unzipped the dress, letting it fall to the floor. I kicked off the heels and wrapped a robe around my shoulders, undoing my newly golden hair and reaching for a fancy pendant that Ava had been trying to make me wear. Slipping the pendant off the thin chain, I replaced it with Finnick's ring and clipped it around my neck.
Someone knocked on my door. "Blake?" Circa's voice came. "Blake, are you in there?"
I took a deep breath and unlocked the door, pulling it open. "Hey," I smiled. "Everyone back?"
Circa hesitated, scanning my expression cautiously. "Yes," she nodded. "We came up as soon as we could. Are you alright?"
"I'm fine," I assured her, and I knew there were a thousand other questions she wanted to ask. Instead, she sighed heavily and took my shoulders gently.
"Shall we get that makeup off for you?" she muttered. "Then I think you need to get some rest."
I snorted. "You're not kidding. Big day tomorrow, huh?" She shot me an exasperated look, but said nothing as she steered me toward the chair in front of the dressing table. Without a word, she began removing all traces of makeup from my skin. I didn't bother trying to make any conversation, closing my eyes and letting her work in silence.
When she'd finished, she pulled my hair back loosely and smiled warmly. "Do you want anything to eat?" she asked.
I gulped hard, shaking my head. "I'd rather just go to bed, if you don't mind," I murmured. "All that pretending to be calm really took it out of me, you know?" I managed a half smile, pushing myself reluctantly out of the chair and clambering back toward the bed.
"Alright," Circa sighed. "Then I'll see you in the morning."
It shocked me that night how easy it was for me to get to sleep. I wasn't sure if I'd just come to terms with the fact I was going to die, or if I'd worn myself out with my fake happiness during the interview. And then of course there was the conversation with Finnick. I had to admit, the man confused me. Now that I knew the truth, I wasn't sure I'd ever be able to look at Annie Cresta the same way again. I should have been in that arena. I should have been in those Games. And still, Finnick was supporting me.
I rolled onto my back and lifted his ring above my face, twisting it and watching it glint in the moonlight. Why? Why would he give me this? Sponsors were going to be lining up to throw money at me when they caught sight of it around my neck. Why would he do that for me? The question irritated the hell out of me, and it wasn't going anywhere, so I dropped the ring back to my chest and rolled over, closing my eyes tightly to try and get to sleep.
I was out of it in the same second, and remembered nothing of any dreams or disturbances in the night. Instead, the first thing I remembered was Circa knocking lightly on the door the next morning. "Blake? Blake, time to go."
I climbed cautiously out of bed. A numb feeling filled my entire body, making all my muscles tingle strangely. It felt like I was on automatic pilot, climbing out of bed and into the shower. A small voice in the back of my head warned me to make the most of it, as it was probably my last, but I found I didn't care. Instead, I got out in the space of five minutes to pull on the first pair of trousers and shirt I found. It didn't matter. I'd have to wear whatever the Capitol provided from the Games anyway. What did it matter what I was wearing now?
Wrapping my hair up quickly, I stepped out of my room to find Circa and Seeder waiting for me. I paused outside the door, a lump forming in my throat as my eyes flicked between the two of them. "Please don't try to change my mind," I croaked. "I only have so much energy left, and I have to save that for playing the Capitol citizens."
Seeder managed a small laugh as she stepped forward, taking my shoulders. Her eyes shone as she stared at me. "You do whatever you need to do, Blake," she whispered. "We'll help as much as we can."
"I know," I smiled gratefully, pulling her into a hug before I could change my mind. "Thank you." She sniffed loudly, but said nothing more as I stepped away, letting Circa take my hand and lead me down the corridor.
We made our way to the elevator, but this time, Circa pushed the button for the roof level. As the doors opened, I was hit with the smell of flowers from the roof garden, and the sound of tinkling wind chimes. I couldn't focus on it for long. Instead, my eyes found the hovercraft, where a metal ladder was waiting for me. Taking a shaky breath, I moved forward and stepped onto the first step. Immediately, an electric current rushed through my body, and I went rigid involuntarily. The ladder began to ascend, until I was inside the hovercraft. Then a man in a white overcoat started forward and jabbed something into my arm.
He gave me a deadpan look. "Your tracker," he told me in monotone. When he stepped away, my muscles relaxed, and I stepped off the ladder with a sigh of relief. The hovercraft waited long enough to collect Circa, and then we set off toward the arena.
Breakfast was being served, and I forced myself to eat something in the hour it took to get to the Hunger Games arena. With all the other people around, Circa and I didn't say a single word to each other, though occasionally, I saw her look at me in concern.
What shocked me most, however, was how relaxed I suddenly felt when the hovercraft arrived. Circa and I were sent down into the tunnels beneath the arena, that led each tribute to a separate room where they'd make their final preparations with their stylists. Circa led me into mine, and the moment the door was shut, her shoulders sagged wryly and she shot me another concerned look.
"Are you sure you know what you're doing, Blake?" she muttered with her eyebrows tight.
My lips tugged. "I'm sure," I nodded.
Unable to argue, she helped me get changed into the clothes that had been provided for the Games - a pair of tight, dark green trousers, thick black combat boots, a tight white vest top, and a black windbreaker beneath a thin black leather jacket. Her eyes widened a fraction when she noticed Finnick's ring dangling around my neck, but I just shrugged a shoulder at her, feeling oddly uncomfortable by her scrutinising stare. Fortunately, she didn't comment, making sure that my hair was braided back strictly to keep it out of the way before turning me to face her.
"Promise me you'll remember one thing," she insisted with a stern look. I hesitated, then nodded slowly. "Things change when you get into the Games. No matter what your plan is now, never forget who you are. Don't ever forget that we won't ever stop praying for you to come home."
A lump formed in my throat, and hot tears stung the back of my eyes as she spoke, and without thinking, I yanked her into a tight hug, my eyes clamped shut to stop the tears flowing. And suddenly, a voice was telling me to take my position because the Games were due to start. Averting my gaze to anywhere but Circa, I stepped around her and took my place on a pedestal that would raise to take me into the Games. I didn't dare turn to look as the plate started to move upwards, focussing all my thoughts of rearranging my expression.
No time for deep thinking, I scolded myself. Game time. The thought had barely crossed my mind when my head broke the surface, and the sun's bright rays blinded me momentarily.
My breath caught in my throat at the sight of the arena. In front of me, it seemed to be split in half. To the left, the ground was covered in a thick blanket of snow. Just looking at it made me shiver furiously on the spot. In the distance, a snow capped mountain towered over us, half concealed behind thin clouds. But to the right, everything changed. Trees stood metres apart in a thin forest, surrounded by red and gold leaves that floated softly to the ground. I could see a stream of fresh water running through the middle, but heading in that direction would be paramount to suicide. It was too open. There was no shelter, nowhere to hide.
Pursing my lips tightly, I risked a glance backwards and felt my muscles tighten. The arena hadn't been split into two; it was split into four. One section for each of the seasons. Beside the snow of winter to the left, a denser forest stood, where the chirrups of birds singing and the sound of deer moving could be heard. Between that and the golden leaves of autumn stood a large, flat plain of bright green grass beside a huge lake of glistening water.
The logical option was easy. Heading into the spring forest seemed like the best way to stay sheltered and find food and water. The autumn trees were too far apart and the leaves would make too much noise, the snow of winter would most likely kill me before I could warm up, and the summer clearing was too open to attack.
But my eyes rested on the Cornucopia in front of me, a giant golden horn shaped like a cone. Around its base, supplies such as food, water and weapons had been scattered across the floor. My heart seized as I spotted a crossbow – state of the art with plenty of ammunition – sat on the opposite side. One quick look of the other twenty-three tributes stood equal distances apart was all I needed to know that I was never meant to reach it. It seemed the four Careers from Districts 1 and 2 were stood between me and it, and apparently, no one thought I was stupid enough to go for it.
The countdown had reached thirty seconds, meaning I'd already been stood still for half a minute. Heart hammering as I forced myself to remain rigid, I risked a glance at the tributes stood nearest. The one to my right – who I was sure was the District 12 girl, Sarie – looked ready to be sick, and to the left, Myles was rocking back and forth on his feet, as though he couldn't wait to get started.
Taking a deep breath, I tried to steady myself and collect my thoughts. I didn't necessarily need a crossbow, but I did need a weapon. Any weapon. Going out into the arena with nothing was just as bad as taking on the Careers alone. I just needed to move fast, and keep moving. Which made me wonder . . .
Just go for it, my mind urged, my eyes fixing on the crossbow at the other side of the Cornucopia. It's risky, but then so is everything else you've done since your fifteen birthday.
That was true enough. I'd just started to plan how I was going to navigate around twenty three other tributes - mainly the Careers - when District 12 girl started to shake on her plate. Immediately, my muscles locked in place, and I found myself scowling at her stance. If she quivered much more, she was going to fall off. The thought had barely crossed my mind when she shrieked and staggered forward.
"No!" I yelled, stumbling forward to help her before catching myself before the edge of the plate. My balance returned almost immediately, but Sarie . . .
I just about had time to watch her stumble off the plate, wide-eyed, before the countdown reached ten and the explosion shook the ground beneath my feet. Twisting and dropping to the plate, somehow keeping myself balanced, I threw my arms over my head as another tribute squealed loudly, followed by another rattling explosion. Dirt and large lumps of unidentified mass I didn't want to look at flew through the air around me, but I didn't dare lift my head up. I was pretty sure they were body parts.
Another explosion shook the arena, closer to me this time, and it pushed me forward so forcefully I didn't have any time to, or any hope of catching myself. Heart leaping into my throat, a horn sounded loudly through the panic, just as my feet left the plate and my hands flew out to catch myself on the ground, my eyes wide in shock.
"Ladies and gentleman!" Claudius Templesmith shouted excitedly. "Let the 72nd Hunger Games begin!"