Chapter 38- Terra Coppersmith
"Here, drink this."
"What is it?" I ask hollowly, reaching out for the cup without taking my eyes off the screen.
"Raspberry tea," Shuttle says, placing the cup on the table in front of me instead and coming to sit down in the chair next to me. "You need to get something into you or you're not going to last the whole Games."
I don't have the energy to argue with her; I just wrap my hands around the hot mug and appreciate the warmth it gives off. The Viewing Hall is so cold at night, and I can't handle the cold, not anymore.
If I'm cold, what is Iry feeling?
"I still can't believe she did that," I whisper to Shuttle. Her face is expressionless, searching the screens for something, though I don't know exactly what. The most entertaining thing going on is Nell and her ally getting attacked by giant pythons in the jungle, and I can't get myself worked up about that tonight. A few stations over, Seeder has her head in her hands, gripping her short hair like she's about to pull it out.
"Why wouldn't she just escape in the jungle? She didn't have to kill the girl at all," I continue, my voice a little louder now. Shuttle shakes her head.
"The arena does things to you, you know that," she says quietly. "We all did things in our arenas that we regret; that's hers."
"She wasn't supposed to kill anyone!" I say. "She was supposed to hide, and that was the plan; why didn't she listen to the plan?" I squeeze the mug so tight the sides burn into my hands, but I don't care, I don't care; I promised to keep Iry safe and now she's killed Celosia to keep herself safe instead.
"The Gamemakers don't care about any plans we made," Shuttle says, finally looking at me. She has dark circles under her eyes, and looks thoroughly worn out. If she's left and slept in brief periods and still looks like that, I must look half dead. I feel half dead.
"How do you do this?" I whisper finally, letting my half singed palms fall away from the mug, feeling them still burn with a pain that helps ground me somehow. "How do you mentor year after year?"
Shuttle pauses, and I can see her weighing her words. "It's not always this personal," she says finally. "But it's always hell."
I lean closer to the screen that holds Iry, curled in her blanket on the edge between jungle and beach. Nothing's come for her yet, nothing like the python that Nell is currently running from. It's obvious her ally is looking out for himself only; he's about two feet ahead of her and she's struggling to catch up.
Why do I care about Nell? It's Iry I need to protect in there.
Shuttle taps the screen with our sponsor money featured on it. "Guess Woof and Woven pulled through," she says, pointing out the amount to me. They've been out at parties all day, and it's just been me and Shuttle here.
"10,000 more pecuniae?"
"That won't buy much; prices are rising fast."
"So let's send Iry some food. She's probably starving," I say. I sent her a cookie earlier, but honestly I doubt it helped anything. I hoped it would cheer her up a little, but you can't cheer someone up who's just killed another girl.
Iry, why did you have to do it?
"Best we can afford is a loaf of bread and some dried fruit," Shuttle says, flipping through the gift options.
"That's it?"
"Like I said, prices are rising fast."
"Send it fast then, before they rise any higher," I say, leaning back in my chair. Seeing Iry safe for the moment makes me less on edge, but not by much. She's hurting, she's in danger still, and I can't help her. My sister is in another world, her own personal hell, and I'm sure it's my fault that she's there.
If I wasn't a victor, she wouldn't have been chosen.
Another thought comes to me, and it makes my stomach drop into my heels. "Shuttle?"
"What?" She's distracted, selecting the gifts and getting them ready to send.
"They chose her because I stayed home with her, didn't they?" I ask quietly. Her head whips around to look at me.
"What?" she repeats.
"They chose her, they had to have. Because of me. She's in there because I didn't mentor, didn't play the games after." The Hunger Games never end; I see that now. Shuttle is still trapped in them, just like Silk and Victoria; we're all still trapped in our arenas because we have to relive them every year.
Mags was right when she said it was easier to die in the arena than as to live as a victor. I buried part of myself in the snow and sand as it is, buried myself when I killed the boy from 11, when I left Fletcher to die, when I killed Calypso and won by chance. I didn't come out whole, and not just because of my legs and hands.
I'll never see my Iry again, because the arena has killed the little girl I knew. I don't care. I'll take whatever form she's in, whatever person she's becoming, just so long as I get her back. I need her back, I need my little sister back no matter what, because without her, I know I'll end up like Jass or Orna; drugged to blot out the world. There's no world without Iry.
"If they did choose her, you know it's not your fault. Not any of our faults that we're here," Shuttle says, and she says it firmly. "We lived, they died, and we have to carry on."
"She's going to win," I say, and it's not a question whatsoever. She has to.
"We're going to do our goddamn best to keep her alive, and then some," Shuttle says, hitting the button that sends the parachutes down.
"Well you're doing well, aren't you!" Corinna says brightly behind me. I jump, nearly spilling my tea, and whirl around to face her. "Sorry, did I scare you?"
"Fine," I mutter. She's a victor; she should know not to sneak up on us, but she's got a habit of doing it. "I'm fine."
"Sorry! How's your sister doing?" She sounds like she actually cares, but I know for a fact that, just like everyone else in this room, she's trying to get her tribute home instead. Even Mags, no matter what she said about bringing Iry home.
"She's alive," I say dryly, looking back to the screen. Iry's got the parachute, but she's opening it without much excitement, or any reaction at all. The Capitol's killed my smiling sister and replaced her with a girl who's going to be scarred forever.
I can't forgive them for this.
"Good, I've been worried about her," Corinna says brightly. How she's still cheerful is beyond me. "What about your big guy there? Haven't seen much of him on screen today."
I'd almost forgotten about Azlon; he's not Iry, and he got pushed aside after last night's events. "He's healing," Shuttle says, pointing out the place in the bushes where Azlon's lying, recuperating after the boy from 6's attack.
"Good," Corinna replies. "That boy who did it; he's, oh what's the word-"
"He's a pain in the ass," Shuttle says bluntly, making Corinna laugh.
"That's the word. I doubt the Gamemakers will let him be the victor anyway," she says.
"What're you saying about my tribute?" Fabian from 6 storms up and shoves Corinna's shoulder. "Badmouthing me?"
"No, we're talking about what an ass your boy is," Shuttle says. My attention flips between watching Iry rip chunks off of the bread, and the scene that's playing out before me.
"My boy got the highest score, my boy's in the Games to win! And he'll rip your tributes apart," Fabian says, his voice rising. I can smell alcohol coming off him; is he drunk?
"Hasn't yet," Shuttle says, quieter again.
"He burned your boy, he'll kill your girl, and he'll be back here with a crown on his head."
"He's a criminal, a gang member, and, frankly, highly irritating," Corinna says.
Fabian shoves her again. "You shut your mouth or I'll shut it for you, 7."
"Are you all like this in 6?" Shuttle asks, resting her chin on her hand. "Loudmouthed and annoying?" Fabian's swelling like a water soaked sponge and turning red when Woof and Woven walk in the door behind him.
"Hell is wrong with you?" Woof asks, barely giving Fabian a glance. "Go play with your trains and leave the mentoring to the adults."
"I think your tribute's in need of some assistance," Woven says, pointing to the large screen where Nell and Fabian's boy- Trestle, that's his name- are still running from the pythons that are too quick to be natural. Both are loudmouthed and annoying, but they're still kids.
I don't understand why the Capitol likes to watch children die for their entertainment. I don't think I ever will.
"Get!" Woof snaps, waving his hand dismissively at Fabian. The latter swells slightly more in anger, then seems to deflate. There really is no point in arguing with Woof, and he's been around long enough to know it.
"All your tributes are going to do is go back in boxes, 8," he says, turning and storming back to his station.
"Put you in one if you don't shut it," Woof mutters. "We've got good news and bad news; who wants to hear what first?" He looks at Shuttle and me expectantly. Corinna takes the hint and escapes back to her station next door without Woof having to evict her too.
"We could use some good news," Shuttle says, lying forward and resting her head awkwardly on the table. All of Fabian's talk about our tributes dying makes me want good news desperately.
"We got two more sponsors for Iry and Azlon," Woven says, leaning against the back of Shuttle's chair.
"We saw and we spent it already," Shuttle replies. "Iry's got some food for tonight."
"What about Azlon?" I can see the concern creeping back into Woven's face; I won't forget how upset she was last night when Azlon was burned.
"Still unconscious, unfortunately. And obviously, we're focusing our funds on Iry."
"That was the plan," Woof says, pulling up a chair and sitting down on the other side of Shuttle.
"So what's the bad news?" I ask.
"Bad news is that our esteemed escort's gotten out and is off trying to wrangle more sponsors."
"And?"
"And? The idiot's going to drive them off in droves; nobody wants to deal with him."
"Go after him then," Shuttle says sleepily.
"There's no point. He'll get out again; his type always does," Woof says. "Escorts like him can slip through cracks in walls to get to a party or a bottle of champagne."
I focus my attention again on the screen; Nell and Trestle seem to have outrun the snakes for now. The Capitol doesn't like it when the Games get quiet; the Gamemakers always have to be livening it up somehow. Just so long as they focus on the other tributes and stay away from Iry, I don't care what they do.
They're all kids in that arena, just like I was, but I can't bring myself to care for them right now. Iry's the only one who can get out, so why become attached to tributes that aren't mine?
My sister's curled up again on the edge between jungle and beach, but she's not sleeping. I know she's not. If I could reach through the screen and pull her out, I would. If I could go into the arena myself and stay by her side, I would go in an instant.
While Woven and Woof talk quietly, and Shuttle dozes on the table, I take a quick survey of the rest of the Viewing Hall. Fabian's back at his station, which is funny considering he's supposed to be working with Seeder to keep their tributes alive. Quiet Beetee and Elm are over at station 9 next to us, talking to Ripple.
At 4, Mags is curled in a shawl, feet up on her chair, staring into the screen at her own tribute, the only one she has left. The overconfident one she doesn't think will win, but still hopes will. Everyone wants their tribute to go home, but Iry has to, above all the others.
And as horrible as it is to think it, now that she's killed, maybe she has a better chance of it than she did before.
"What do you think, Marcus?" Caius says, the big screen abruptly switching away from the arena and over to the idiotic announcers.
"I'd say that Nell and Trestle were lucky to escape with their lives! They're a crafty duo, those two!"
"We're seeing some surprises this year, aren't we?" Caius looks way too cheerful to be talking about kids dying, and I have the sudden urge to punch him in the face.
"Oh, absolutely Caius!" Marcus is practically bubbling over with excitement; nobody is this happy at this time of night. "I have to say, Iry took me by surprise. I didn't know she had it in her to eliminate Celosia, but here we are! She's still in the running, and she's victor material, don't you agree?"
"If she wins, she'll make history as the youngest victor ever, so let's cross our fingers!" Caius says.
"Don't worry, Panem, we're not choosing favorites!"
"Oh, oh!" Caius says, his eyes growing wide and it creeps me out somehow to see it. "We've got some excitement happening!"
The screen flashes back to the arena, and to the map of the island from above. Woof leans in and squints his eyes a little to see better.
"The real fun's about to start," he says quietly, not looking at any of us, but keeping his eyes on the screen. "District 9's getting a bit too close to the Careers for their comfort. Oh, and the snakes are back for the idiots. Looks like the Gamemakers have had enough of them."
I watch the contrast between the python chase and Iry pretending to sleep; my heart is beating so hard it hurts. Iry's not in danger right this minute, but until she's out of the arena she could die without warning.
We've got to bring her home.