Chapter 29:

It was almost as if the Gamemakers had molded a mountain out of the arena terrain overnight- because the camera angles up to this point showed only a flat landscape. Yet, sure enough, on the TV, the snow is starting to catapult down the side of this new mountain towards- what else?- the forest where the alliance has set up camp.

My eyes shoot open, heart rate accelerating. All thoughts of sleep disappear. I am torn on what to do next- while I want to run to Effie and Haymitch, make sure that they have lined up an appropriate gift for Prim and the rest of the alliance to use to survive this new catastrophe, once again my eyes are transfixed on the TV screen. Peeta, the Godsend that he is, seems to understand my position without asking. Knowing that Paavo is likely safe in the Cornucopia, Peeta leaps up and dashes out of the room, presumably to check up on the other District 12 mentors, make sure they're not asleep.

This whole situation reeks of President Snow's vengeance. I glance at the nearest clock- it is after three in the morning. After the bloodiest day of the games, the Gamemakers have almost always let the tributes recover overnight before springing something new on them. Surely this new twist is catching even viewers by surprise- I doubt as many people in the Capitol are even watching. So why even do it, if not to try and put someone specific at a disadvantage?

If there is anything to be thankful for in this scenario, it's that the avalanche seems to be building momentum rather slowly, and the area of the forest where Prim, Annella, and Paul have set up camp is still quite a ways away, so unless they are deaf, they should have a good amount of warning. Maybe the Gamemakers weren't able to construct their mountain any closer. Still- the avalanche is going to be huge, and the tributes are right in its path.

Peeta returns with Effie, who tells us Haymitch is still at the Capitol wagering bar but assures us that he is awake and actively pursuing sponsors. I'll believe that when I see it. I take off in a full sprint towards the elevator, Peeta and Effie racing behind me.

When I arrive back at the bar, scouring the seats for Haymitch, I realize that I am dead wrong. It is every bit as crowded here now as it was when the Quell began, and the people are as lively as ever. Waitresses bring out delicious Capitol snacks and all kinds of alcohol, including little shotglasses filled with a luminescent-green liquid. People are chanting and screaming at the TV, deliriously happy, and waving money at the bet-takers. The flashbulbs with the tributes' odds are changing even now, in what is supposed to be the dead of night.

Haymitch is chatting it up with some guy at the end of the bar when I approach him in an almost murderous rage. How can he be so blasé about everything when my sister's life is on the line? A quick glance at the TV reveals that the avalanche is getting bigger, moving faster, but is still a little ways away from Prim. Still- the time to do something is fast dwindling.

Haymitch preemptively starts talking as he sees the expression on my face, keeping me from chewing him out. "I see you're up, sweetheart. I'd like to take a moment to introduce you to someone. This is Armondo Valentine. He's a very distinguished citizen of the Capitol- and he really wanted to meet you. He's considering sponsoring your sister." His glance at me is full of innuendo. Charm him. For your sister's sake. I then realize Haymitch has actually been hard at work. Only what in the world am I going to say to this guy?

I glance over at Armondo- and am a tad disgusted. He is in his fifties, bespectacled, fat, and very creepy- he is looking at me like no man in his fifties should look at a seventeen-year old, in my opinion. He reaches out his hand and I hesitantly shake it. Though I send pleading glances to Haymitch to oversee the conversation, he quickly leaves us alone as he escapes to the other end of the bar.

"So," Armondo drawls as soon as Haymitch is out of earshot, "let me buy you a drink."

"I don't drink alcohol," I say flatly. I think back to the hangover I felt the morning after the Reading of the Card. No thank you, never again.

"I never said it had to be alcohol," Armondo replies, looking me up and down. "Perhaps something….else," he signals to the nearest waitress to bring him two more of whatever he had last.

I feel violated, and this guy hasn't even touched me. What a pervert. At that moment, I see that Peeta is lingering nearby, making sure I'm okay- I shoot him a glance of relief, but he is smart enough to keep his distance. I also look at the TV screen- thankfully, by this time, the alliance members have awoken as well and are frantically trying to pack up and salvage their most important supplies. They still haven't attempted to escape, though. From this perspective, I can understand why- it's futile, they can't run far enough, fast enough, away. They won't escape. But I wonder what the tributes can actually see of what is about to hit them.

Two shotglasses full of the green liquid appear before Armondo and I. He takes them off the waitress's tray and offers one to me.

"What's that?" I ask suspiciously.

"Just a little beverage to enhance your Quell-watching experience," Armondo says with a grin.

I realize I can't be unreceptive here- not with my sister depending on me, depending on sponsorship. I change my tone, trying to intermingle my curiosity with a pleasant demeanor rather than a hostile one. "What does it do?" I ask, forcing softness into my voice.

"Well, it keeps you awake, first of all," Armondo explains, gesturing around him. "For days, with enough of it. How else do you think that people around here can enjoy the Games for so long?"

Unlike the other liquid that the Capitol has produced for its citizens, this one is ingenious. Not have to sleep? I don't need further convincing- I tilt my head back and pour the syrupy liquid down my throat. "Thank you," I say to Armondo sweetly, tipping my empty shotglass to him.

Immediately after I take the drink, I look at the TV again- and I want to scream, jump up and down, because one of the tributes had the suggestion to climb the thickest tree, and Prim is quickly scurrying up the side, leading the other two. The avalanche is closing in, though. I find I can't peel my eyes away.

"Just be careful," Armondo says sweetly, my eyes still locked on the TV. "The drink can have side effects, especially for those that aren't used to it. It can make people….friendlier, shall we say," he puts his arm around me, gesturing around the bar.

Now that he mentions it, the crowd at the bar does seem especially friendly, at least for a bunch of gamblers, some of whom are surely losing. I quickly glance around before putting my eyes back on the TV. The avalanche is closing in, clearing some of the smaller surrounding trees, cracking the branches below where Prim, Annella, and Paul cling. Paul is the lowest of the three- though he's tallest, he's also the heaviest by far and least sturdy in the air- and he has the sled hanging from his waist on a rope, an additional burden.

I can already begin to feel the liquid's effects- I feel relaxed, much like the alcohol, yet utterly alert- but I am lucid enough to decipher what Armondo wants- he wants me to flirt with him, come on to him. For my sister, I will do it, I will do anything.

But there is no time, because the level of snow has risen, and is still moving at a furious pace. It catches the sled dangling from Paul's rope, and without struggle or fanfare, it pulls him under and away. Prim and Annella are powerless to stop the force, and don't try- they just scream and cry and cling to the trunk of the tree, hugging it, as the snow rises close to them, and pulls on the tree, but then gradually slows, slows its movement, finally stopping. Paul is gone, and they have lost their most powerful alliance member- and their sled, and the axe, and a lot of their food. How are they even going to get down? Can Annella's sponsors come through again? Maybe, but I can't rely on that. I'm going to have to do something myself.

I can't wait for the effects of the liquid to fully kick in to schmooze up to Armondo. Somehow, I'm going to have to fake it. Paul is dead; the cannon blasts. But I can't focus on that. I have to shake it off, think of Prim.

"I'm feeling better already," I say. His arm is still around my shoulders; I slip mine around his waist. "Are you?"

Armondo raises an eyebrow at my contact with him. "I'm starting to," he replies. "But not quite yet."

I pause. I have no time to be subtle here. I go for bluntness. "What will it take? To make you feel good enough to want to sponsor my sister?"

Armondo doesn't hesitate. "A kiss."

I nod brusquely, not the least bit surprised- I could have predicted it as soon as Haymitch introduced us. The Capitol liquid hasn't made Armondo any better-looking, but I already feel more relaxed, and Prim having a rich sponsor will make it all worth it. I lean my face in and close my eyes, going in for the kiss but otherwise trying to stay as far away from Armondo as possible.

Armondo's wet, sloppy lips and facial hair make it impossible for me to pretend that I am kissing Peeta, but I shut all emotion off and try to get through it. Armondo kisses me roughly, pulling me smack up against him, even though his foul alcohol breath, sweaty body, and overall grossness make me want to run in the other direction. I might feel more relaxed, but the drink certainly hasn't made me delusional. When he roughly gropes my breast and pinches my butt, no amount of that green liquid will convince me that this is acceptable. I push him away. Though I am briefly tempted to attack him, scream at him, I manage to hold myself back, bite my tongue. I simply raise my eyebrow as if to say 'is that enough?' Armondo nods and shouts to Haymitch, signaling to him, holding out the fingers in his one hand. Four. Four what? Hundred? Thousand? Hundred Thousand? It doesn't matter. Haymitch, though across the bar, nods and quickly communicates to someone at the bar, a bet-taker of some sort, who will probably communicate his request to a Gamemaker.

Not a moment too soon. Because the second that Armondo turns around, Peeta punches him in the face.