Chapter 44- Astrid Clearwater
"I doubt anyone's over here, so let's get the fire going."
Elowyn silently grabs a pack of the matches that we took from the Cornucopia this morning. With one strike, fire flashes at the end of a match, before she tosses it into the firepit. Carefully, she coaxes the flames to grab onto the tinder, then the bigger twigs, and I watch the fire grow taller until I know it will survive.
After the Cornucopia went down, and we ended up on the pedestals, we just sat there and looked at the churning water become smooth again, as though nothing had ever been there. A hovercraft came down after a while and pulled Tilling out from down below the waves, from wherever the Cornucopia went. The last I saw of the girl who was my ally was her hand, and her braid swinging over the side of the claw. That's when Elowyn stopped talking altogether.
She hasn't spoken since. I know it's because of Tilling, who drowned because we didn't pull her out. I didn't think I was the kind of girl who would let another die, but as it turns out, I am. I'm a lot of things I didn't think I was before I was dropped in here.
"Just talk," I say, pulling my jacket closer around me, even though it's still fairly wet from our escape this morning. "Being quiet won't bring her back, and she shouldn't come back." Tilling is dead, and she was never meant to be a victor. Wishing our allies back won't help us win, and it won't get us sponsors either.
Victors don't grieve; they move on.
Elowyn just looks at me mutely, her eyes haunted. "Just say something, Elowyn. Don't let this place break you; I don't want another Tilling on my hands."
She looks at me for a second more, then looks away, back out at the water and the place where the Cornucopia was this morning, shining gold in the jungle sunlight. I know she's not broken, not the way that Tilling was. I can see through Elowyn, and I can see she's guilty. Guilty for leaving Tilling to die, guilty for everything she's done so far in the arena.
She hasn't killed anyone directly with her own two hands, but she let her ally drown, and that's about the same thing in any district.
I end up feeding the fire in uncomfortable silence while the sun sets over the arena horizon. None of this is real; not the ocean, the sky, the islands themselves. Island now, I should say. The mutts were Capitol made, and so was the Cornucopia. Nothing is real here; it's all an illusion.
"Let's get out the packs and see what we got today," I say finally, tossing a scrap of driftwood into the fire. Elowyn nods and pulls her pack over to her; I notice she has her axe still close by her side. I'm doing the same; after the mutt ambush, I'm not letting my weapon go.
As long as I have an axe, I have a chance at winning this thing. No matter what I have to do to get there.
My pack is a little farther away; as I reach over to pull it closer, the familiar acidic sting shoots up my leg. I bite my lip to stop myself from saying anything; I'd rather the audience didn't realize how hurt I actually am.
Nobody's going to bet on an injured District 3 girl, no matter how long she's survived or what weapons she's holding. But we need water, desperately, and the only way we're going to get it is by pretending everything's alright.
Elowyn holds up a package of dried jerky and a package of oat bars for me to see. "Those'll do," I say, taking the oat bars from her and ripping the packaging open. I'm thankful for the fire tonight; the past three nights have been in the pitch black. Light makes all the difference; even at home we have a candle lit until it's time to sleep.
I'm chewing on one of the oat bars when the last bit of light leaves the arena and the Capitol seal appears high in the sky, accompanied by the anthem. I know one face who will be in the sky tonight, but the others are up for debate.
The first to appear is the blonde District 1 girl. So Beetee was right; the Careers really aren't the biggest threat this year. "District 1's out of the running," I say, but I might as well be talking to the hovercraft holding the picture for all the response I get. That's one Career District gone; two more to go before the real battles begin.
The next face in the sky is Tilling's, the same headshot that was used when they aired our scores. Worried eyes, black hair in a braid over her shoulder. Dead and drowned and gone, going back to District 9 to be forgotten. Elowyn sucks in a sharp breath, but she doesn't cry, doesn't react in any other way.
You never wanted her in the alliance, Elowyn. You left her to die. Don't mourn her now.
Tilling's district partner is next in the sky; a boy that I hadn't seen since we were dropped in here four days ago. So District 9 is eliminated too. That's three in the sky; who's the last one?
The boy from 9's face disappears, replaced by Nell from 11's. So she's the last death today. The way her ally treated her, I wouldn't doubt it if he killed her himself. He looked the type; a born and bred troublemaker. Nell's face disappears, and the Capitol seal lights up the sky for a moment more before the anthem ends and the sky darkens.
And we are left in silence.
I poke at the fire a little bit more, eating the last of my second oat bar that does nothing to stop the gnawing hunger in my stomach. I've been hungry before, have grown up hungry, but this feels different somehow. The Capitol made me soft; I just have to harden myself up again.
"Look what's arrived," I say when I notice the parachute drifting down towards us. "They finally got tired of watching us die of thirst."
Why did it take so long for water to come? Beetee's working with the District 7 mentors, so there has to be some money for us.
Elowyn gets to the parachute first and tears it away to reveal two full water bottles. She hands one to me, before drinking deeply from her own. I make sure that I drink only half of my water; better to save it for later. Who knows when Beetee will get his act together and make sure we're properly taken care of?
Elowyn screws the cap back onto her bottle and sets it down in the sand beside her. Still silent, she looks out at the dark water; I can see her hands trembling slightly.
"Just say something, Elowyn. You're not helping anyone by being a mute," I tell her. I can't help but think of the red clothed Avoxes in the Training Center, forever silent. I don't want to be allies with an Avox; not here. "Just say something."
"Gwennie wouldn't have left her," Elowyn bursts out, fingers gripping her knees so tight that her knuckles are white. "She wouldn't."
"What?" Whatever I thought she would say, it wasn't that. "Who's Gwennie?"
"Gwennie would have pulled her out, no matter what," she continues, still looking out at the dark, dark ocean.
"Who are you talking about?"
"My sister," Elowyn answers, still holding tight to herself, as though if she lets go she'll fall apart. "She was my best friend."
Now I remember her mentioning a sister, back at the interviews. A sister who died in the arena. "She died in the Games, didn't she?"
"Two days in. The Careers took her out, but she made sure the little girl she was allied with got away."
Elowyn looks at me, and I can see her eyes are pain and guilt filled. "I left Tilling, because I knew she wouldn't win, and I didn't want to die for her. I didn't want her as an ally; she was weak and annoying and useless, so I left her there, Astrid. Gwennie would have died with or for her; she wouldn't let the little girl die, and she wouldn't have let Tilling die either."
"Different Games, Elowyn," I point out. "And I left her too. Wasn't just you."
"I made you leave. I should have dragged Tilling out."
"For what?" I ask. "To be murdered by the Careers or more mutts? As far as deaths go, she got off easy."
The girl from District 2, the one who threatened me in Training, she wouldn't let Tilling die easily. None of the others would take pity on the girl from District 9, whose talents were so few that nobody but us would tolerate her. Tilling Bluekind is dead; we let her drown. When I get out of here I'll figure out what that means for me.
"My parents will hate me," Elowyn says in a whisper.
"No, they won't. This is the Hunger Games; there are no rules here. And nobody's expecting you to sacrifice yourself for tributes who don't have a shot at this."
She doesn't say anything to that, just grips herself tighter than ever and looks out at the dark ocean, gently lapping against the shore.
I don't think Mama will care what I do in here; survival is key both here and back home. She just wants me to win, that's all. Axel doesn't even know what's going on, so I won't have to explain anything to him when I get back. Because I will. I will go home. Alone.
Elowyn's long braids are tangled now; she's a far cry from the put together girl that I first met in Training. She's still beautiful, though, and that might help us get more sponsors still. If Beetee lets any of our gifts get down here.
"Do you think she's up there?" Elowyn asks suddenly.
"What?"
She points up to the night sky, full of stars. "She said that the stars would lead her home. Do you think she's up there right now?"
Above us, the stars shine and sparkle, reminding me that there's a world outside of the arena. A world that I want to return to so badly. "Maybe. I hope she's happy if she is up there."
Tilling Bluekind. A girl I barely knew, a girl I tolerated. A girl I let die. I have to let her go, because if she stays with me any longer, I'll never get rid of her, and I'll be carrying her death around for the rest of my life.
"She's gone; we have to move on," I tell Elowyn, and she nods, albeit jerkily. I hear her take a deep breath.
"What now?" she asks.
"We'll stay here tonight. And tomorrow, we're going to keep going along the beach." Elowyn nods again. "I'll take first watch. You go to sleep."
"Are you sure?"
"Just sleep," I tell her. Elowyn hesitates, then lies down on the sand, next to the fire. Within minutes, her breathing switches to the deep breathing that comes with sleep, and I'm alone here on this firelit arena beach.
Tonight is the dawning of Day 5, and there are nine of us left in the arena. Eight of them are going to die, and soon. Not me. I won't let it be me.
I don't want Elowyn to die, but she has to die if I'm going to be the victor. And I can't be anything but that; I'm not going to die here on camera for the whole world to see. For the whole of Panem to laugh and say that District 3 girls never win; that we're useless and bloodbath victims, the lot of us.
They're going to know that I'm better than they ever thought I would be; that even though I'm District 3, I bested twenty-three others for the crown. And everyone in District 3 itself will know that I'm not their pariah; I am their victor.
Somewhere in that jungle, Circuit is still wandering around, somehow keeping himself alive. I believed he was a write-off, and I still think that. He's hiding in the trees and bushes, slowly starving to death. I doubt he's capable of doing anything else.
If Beetee's chosen him, then I'll prove Beetee wrong too. I will be the victor, I will wear the crown and go home, I will bring my family into a new life, a better life than I have ever lived.
Elowyn breathes softly on the sand, her hand moving ever so slightly. I don't want her to die, and I especially don't want her to die slowly and painfully. I want her with me, at least for now while we still have so many enemies in the trees. But what happens when the number of tributes dwindles to nothing?
Then Elowyn will die, and I will win. I wonder if she's thought the same about me? We're allies for now, but in the next few days, we will be enemies, before one of us wears the victor's crown.
I'll just keep my axe close and my ally closer.