The Mentors
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Day Four; Part One
Blaise Calder (D10)
I shiver.
Whoever runs this place has turned down the temperature. That seems to be happening a lot lately.
Late last night in the arena, the temperature changed dramatically. It began to snow in the desert. I don't even know what to call it now since, obviously, it isn't a desert.
Lilac sent Maeve and Fern a blanket to share, though it doesn't keep them from shivering. They weren't dressed for this kind of weather. I'm confused as to why the Gamemakers did this, but I admit I don't want to understand sadists like them.
I grimace at the screen, where dim morning light wakes Maeve. Maeve rubs the sleep from her eyes, blinking rapidly. I think she considers lying back down, but hops up instead. "So, I wasn't paying attention last night. How many people died again?"
"There were three," Fern barks, obviously not in the mood for conversation. She used to be nice, but living in the arena has turned her into a cruel woman.
"Wow," Maeve breathes. "Who would have thought we'd make it to the final ten?"
"Most of the tributes this year were weak," Fern snaps. "I'm not weak."
Maeve gives her a doubtful look, but doesn't reply.
"You annoy me, Maeve," Fern sighs. "You annoy the fuck out of me."
Maeve gives her a surprised look. "Now, why would you say a thing like that?"
"It's true," Fern snorts. Lilac gives my tribute a withering look. I don't blame her. I don't like what I'm seeing Fern turn into. Maybe, she won't be like this if she wins. Maybe she'll change back to how she was before. Lilac sees the hope pass through my eyes. She shakes her head with a sad look. I understand. Even if Fern wins, Fern won't be with us anymore. It'll be this girl.
"Why are you being like this, Fern?" Maeve asks, eyes downcast. "I haven't done anything to you. We . . . we were friends when we trained together, weren't we? Or were you hiding this person behind the Fern I thought I knew?"
Fern shows her teeth when she grimaces. "I'm the same person as I was before. I'm not going to change. This isn't going to change me."
Fern pauses, looking at her feet like the old Fern would. She looks up, a cruel glint in her eye. "Now leave. I'm breaking the alliance. Be happy I don't feel the need to kill you."
Maeve just stares at her, mouth agape in shock. Fern is busy halving the water and food. She hands Maeve's half to her roughly, making Maeve stumble. She picks up the blanket and rips it in half. She gives Maeve the more tattered side.
Maeve's lower lip quivers. She slowly backs into denser trees. Before long, you can't even see her anymore.
Fern smiles in satisfaction. I grimace and shiver again from the increasing cold.
Who is this person I call my tribute?
Lilac Parrish (D6)
I stare at the screen, just beginning to grasp what just happened. Maeve and Fern aren't in an alliance anymore? The thought is absurd, unbelievable. But it's true. It's true.
I grimace and look back at Blaise. He's almost as shocked as I am. But he'll be able to move on. I can't. Fern was Maeve's only protection. Fern was strong, Maeve is not.
I come to the grim reality. Maeve is going to be killed, maybe not now or any time today. Maybe not even tomorrow. But she's not going to win. Not without Fern. "We have to send them a message! We have to tell them to come back to each other."
Blaise gives me a pitying look. I've seen that look far too much in the past two months. "You know we can't send messages. Fern wouldn't listen, anyway. I used to believe she'd do whatever I told her, but now . . . no. Fern's not going to listen. . ." I listen to Blaise ramble about how he doesn't know her anymore.
"At least she has a chance," I whisper. "Maeve doesn't have a chance anymore. She's going to die." I feel a sob coming on, but fight it down.
I will not cry. I am not going to be weak anymore. I am going to be a strong woman. I'm going to watch Maeve die, but I won't cry. I'm going to leave Valor. I'm going to live my life by myself because it's the right thing to do. And I'm not going to cry about it. No more tears for Lilac. No, siree.
"You haven't told me yet," Blaise says suddenly. I grimace. I was hoping he had forgotten.
I shake my head. "I'm not going to whine about my problems any longer. It wouldn't be fair to you, to have to listen."
"I have nothing else to do at the moment," Blaise points out. "If I get bored, I'll let you know. Trust me."
I glare at him. He's mocking my epiphany, staining the greatness of it with his snide comments. "Don't talk to me."
I bury my face in my pillow. Blaise is quiet. I lay there. I almost suffocate out of my stubbornness about not lifting my head. I don't want to face what Blaise will say when I turn over. It will only make me feel worse.
"Lilac?" Blaise calls softly, his voice grim.
"Shut up!" My cry is muffled.
"Lilac, I need to lift your head. Now."
I want to scream at him to leave me alone, but I am silent. People that are strong do not throw tantrums like toddlers.
"Lilac," Blaise whines.
I lift my head. "Shut up!"
I glare at him, but he only stares back with sadness. He points to the screen. I look just in time to see an axe enter Maeve's chest. I cry out in shock and agony. She's already dead? How can that be? She can't be dead, already? Can she?
A cannon fires. No, her cannon fires. She's dead. The grim reality washes over me like a tidal wave.
I want to abandon my new lifestyle, but I hold to it. I don't cry, but I do grieve. Blaise tries to comfort me, but I stop him with a raised hand.
"No."
I won't let anyone take care of me anymore.
Aurora Fairchild (D11)
After Olive kills Maeve, I feel slightly better about my tributes. Nine left.
District Eleven has a good chance this year. Now only if one more person could die, so I could turn that thought into evidence with a fraction or a percentage. I didn't go to school for very long. Some- like Laurel and Locust- go from when they are cute five-year olds to strong adults.
I did not. What was the point when you had to feed yourself? It's not like school matters to someone who's going to thresh wheat for the rest of their life.
On the screen it changes to a prettier scene- one that's not covered with Maeve's blood and Olive's guilt. It's the valley, sprinkled with white. I haven't seen my tributes on the screen since I sent those blankets and a small jacket that Zale has a hard time fitting into.
They still haven't spoken. I know Iris's death was hard for them, but this is too much for my frail mind. What if they split up? It wouldn't work. They draw too much strength from each other to have a chance alone.
I finally see their faces. Laurel looks at the snow with delight and dances in circles around Zale. I can tell that he wants to laugh, but the sound doesn't escape him. She stops abruptly and he almost walks into her.
"Didn't you like my dance?" Laurel whispers. Finally! Words! If I could move I would kiss the ground! But my excitement quickly fades. She's sad. So infinitely sad. She was only trying to cover it up with the dancing and laughter.
"It was fine," Zale snaps.
Laurel flinches. "I know you're mad, but please try. Try to forgive me."
His eyes soften. "I'm not mad."
He's not lying.
"You are," she continues. "I didn't know when I volunteered. I didn't know it would hurt this much to be here. I knew I'd be tired, and hungry, and thirsty. I knew that. I just didn't know I'd be this sad. Killing Maggie hurt. Watching Iris . . . die made me want to die with her. And you . . ." She trails off. Her eyes beg Zale to understand.
"You were expecting to win without any major problems. You weren't thinking that this would happen. You thought it'd be easy. But then, I . . ." They both seem unable to complete their sentences.
"You complicated things," she finishes with a grimace. They both stare at each other. It seems that neither one of them wants to look away.
"I do?" he asks finally, clearly surprised.
She nods. "I don't think I can do this. I don't think I can get out of here in one piece. It doesn't matter what I do, I lose."
She would lose more than what most victors lose. She loses her old life, her innocence, her future. But she also loses what is possibly her first love. I realize that District Eleven doesn't have a chance.
Zale never seemed like the type to be able to put his emotions into words. That's why it doesn't surprise me that he hugs her. That hug means more than I possibly can grasp. I sigh, annoyance eating its way through me.
Yep.
Not a chance in hell.
