We learn some interesting things in this chapter. I'm ready for the games to get over though and see the reunion between Katniss and Finnick =]
Chapter Twenty One: Cave
Getting the broth into Peeta takes an hour of coaxing, begging, threatening, but finally, sip by sip, he empties the pot. I let him drift off to sleep then and attend to my own needs, wolfing down a supper of groosling and roots while I watch the daily report in the sky. No new casualties. Still, Peeta and I have given the audience a fairly interesting day. Hopefully, the Gamemakers will allow us a peaceful night.
I put on my glasses, place my weapons in readiness, and settle down to keep watch.
The temperature drops rapidly and soon I'm chilled to the bone. Eventually, I give in and slide into the sleeping bag with Peeta. It's toasty warm and I snuggle down gratefully until I realize it's more than warm, it's overly hot because the bag is reflecting back his fever. I check his forehead and find it burning and dry. I don't know what to do. Leave him in the bag and hope the excessive heat breaks the fever? Take him out and hope the night air cools him off? I end up just dampening a strip of bandage and placing it on his forehead. It seems weak, but I'm afraid to do anything too drastic.
I spend the night half-sitting, half-lying next to Peeta, refreshing the bandage, and trying not to dwell on the fact that by teaming up with him, I've made myself far more vulnerable than when I was alone. Tethered to the ground, on guard, with a very sick person to take care of. But he's family. Would I leave Prim out to die? It still not the same only having found out what a week ago?
But I knew he was injured. And still I came after him. I'm just going to have to trust that whatever instinct sent me to find him was a good one. I take a look at Peeta, who am I kidding? I would do anything to help him. He is my brother and I love him already.
When the sky turns rosy, I notice the sheen of sweat on Peeta's lip and discover the fever has broken. He's not back to normal, but it's come down a few degrees. Last night, when I was gathering vines, I came upon a bush of Rue's berries. I strip off the fruit and mash it up in the broth pot with cold water.
Peeta's struggling to get up when I reach the cave. "I woke up and you were gone," he says. "I was worried about you."
I have to laugh as I ease him back down. "You were worried about me? Have you taken a look at yourself lately?"
"I thought Cato and Clove might have found you. They like to hunt at night," he says, still serious.
"Clove? Which one is that?" I ask.
"The girl from District Two. She's still alive, right?" he says.
"Yes, there's just them and us and Thresh and Fox face," I say. "That's what I nicknamed the girl from Five. How do you feel?"
"Better than yesterday. This is an enormous improvement over the mud," he says. "Clean clothes and medicine and a sleeping bag."
We get him propped up against the wall and he obediently swallows the spoonfuls of the berry mush I feed him. He refuses the groosling again, though.
"You didn't sleep," Peeta says.
"I'm all right," I say. But the truth is, I'm exhausted.
"Sleep now. I'll keep watch. I'll wake you if anything happens," he says. I hesitate. "Katniss, you can't stay up forever."
He's got a point there. I'll have to sleep eventually. And probably better to do it now when he seems relatively alert and we have daylight on our side. "All right," I say. "But just for a few hours. Then you wake me."
It's too warm for the sleeping bag now. I smooth it out on the cave floor and lie down, one hand on my loaded bow in case I have to shoot at a moment's notice. Peeta sits beside me, leaning against the wall, his bad leg stretched out before him, his eyes trained on the world outside. "Go to sleep," he says softly.
Too long. I sleep too long. I know from the moment I open my eyes that we're into the afternoon. Peeta's right beside me, his position unchanged. I sit up, feeling somehow defensive but better rested than I've been in days.
"Peeta, you were supposed to wake me after a couple of hours," I say.
"For what? Nothing's going on here," he says. "When you don't scowl it improves your looks a lot."
This, of course, brings on a scowl that makes him grin. That's when I notice how dry his lips are. I test his cheek. Hot as a coal stove. He claims he's been drinking, but the containers still feel full to me. I give him more fever pills and stand over him while he drinks first one, then a second quart of water. Then I tend to his minor wounds, the burns, the stings, which are showing improvement. I steel myself and unwrap the leg.
My heart drops into my stomach. It's worse, much worse. There's no more pus in evidence, but the swelling has increased and the tight shiny skin is inflamed. Then I see the red streaks starting to crawl up his leg. Blood poisoning. Unchecked, it will kill him for sure. My chewed-up leaves and ointment won't make a dent in it.
We'll need strong anti-infection drugs from the Capitol. I can't imagine the cost of such potent medicine. If Haymitch pooled every donation from every sponsor, would he have enough? I doubt it. Gifts go up in price the longer the Games continue. What buys a full meal on day one buys a cracker on day twelve. And the kind of medicine Peeta needs would have been at a premium from the beginning.
"Well, there's more swelling, but the pus is gone," I say in an unsteady voice.
"I know what blood poisoning is, Katniss," says Peeta. "Even if my mother isn't a healer."
"You're just going to have to outlast the others, Peeta. They'll cure it back at the Capitol when we win," I say.
"Yes, that's a good plan," he says. But I feel this is mostly for my benefit.
"You have to eat. Keep your strength up. I'm going to make you soup," I say.
"Don't light a fire," he says. "It's not worth it."
I make a soup by sitting the pot on the hot rocks in the sun. When I come back Peeta's stretched out on top of the sleeping bag in the shade of the rocks.
"Do you want anything?" I ask.
"No," he says. "Thank you."
"Peeta?" I ask him quietly. Sitting down next to him.
"Yeah?"
"How did you feel when you found out about me?"
He thinks for a moment. "I felt a lot of things. Mad at my dad for keeping it a secret. Mad that he chose that moment to tell me. Mad that he cheated on my mom but I can't really blame him. Mad that he didn't tell you."
"That's a lot of anger."
"As I recall you were mad too."
"I was." I recall the night if the interviews. "I was mad at you for airing it on tv. Mad at my mom for not telling me. Mad that your dad never told me. My dad." I correct myself. "Confused that the man I believed was my father all these years wasn't. It took Fi.. Um someone to tell me that it didn't change that he was my father he still raised me and loved me." I'm not sure if I should say Finnicks name or not. I'm sure the cameras are watching us right now.
"I was never mad that you were my sister though." He clarifies. "you know that right?"
I nod, "Just like I'm not mad that you are my brother."
"I always knew I had some kind if connection to you. I just never knew what it was. I used to watch you at school. I always wanted to talk to you but never did, fearing my mother."
"Well I guess I know why she hated me so much ."
"I think she was jealous that my father loved your mother. Her sister. When he doesn't love her."
"They don't love each other?" I always remember my parents being in love. Then when my father died my mother just stopped living. I had to take over as provider.
"I think they do in some ways, but their not in love, if you know what I mean. My father loved your mother, she was the love of his life. He was forced to marry my mother. She knew he didn't want to marry her when they got married, but she went through with it anyways. She knew that they saw each other secretly for at least 3 years too. She knew you were his daughter too. My father tries to make her happy. He gave her three children. She doesn't show a lot of love to us." he shakes his head remembering something, but he doesn't voice it. "You mother realized she could never marry my father so she accepted it and fell in love again."
"How do you know all of this?"
"Well I learned a little bit here and there. When I was little my father pointed you out to me and told me that he had wanted to marry your mother. You were born almost four years after my parents were married. Your mother got married shortly after she got pregnant. I didn't know our mothers were sisters until that day in the bakery, you were there." I nod, and he continues, "I don't think they have spoken since for a long time."
"I can't imagine never speaking to Prim again, or even you for that matter."
"Well I don't think we are in danger of falling in love with the same guy." We both laugh.
"You never know, he is pretty charming." I say quietly hoping the cameras don't here.
"Do you love him?"
"I don't really know him that well."
"I didn't ask if you knew him well, I asked if you loved him."
I can feel myself blush, I've never felt like this about anyone, "I think so.." I say so quietly I'm not sure if he even heard me. I miss him. I've tried not to think about him. I just imagine myself dying before I even get a chance to know him.
"Well he better be good to you, or else he'll have to deal with me."
I raise my eye brows ar him and laugh, "I just realized that I have two more brothers. What am I going to do with three of you? I can barely handle you." I joke
He laughs, "Rye and Nate aren't going to know what to do with you."
"Is Prim?" I ask him.
"I don't think so. I mean she is your sister, but I don't think she is mine." he started garbling his words together at the end.
I felt his head, his fever is definetly getting worse, not better. It scares me, but I tell him, "Feels cooler."
He just nods.
The sound of the trumpets startles me. I'm on my feet and at the mouth of the cave in a flash, not wanting to miss a syllable. It's my new best friend, Claudius Templesmith, and as I expected, he's inviting us to a feast. Well, we're not that hungry and I actually wave his offer away in indifference when he says, "Now all of you may already be declining my invitation. But this is no ordinary feast. Each of you needs something desperately." I do need something desperately. Something to heal Peeta's leg.
"Each of you will find that something in a backpack, marked with your district number, at the Cornucopia at dawn. Think hard about refusing to show up. For some of you, this will be your last chance," says Claudius.
There's nothing else, just his words hanging in the air.
I have to be there!