Chapter 45: Chaff Silo
The permafrost is nowhere near thawing as Chaff Silo and Seeder Till place fresh flowers on the grave of Wolfmark Redpath, tucked away in the back of the Victors' Village. This is the second time this week that they've brought fresh dayliles out here since burying the old man the week before.
Seeder wipes away an errant tear from her eye. To think that just last month, the old rebel was throwing her a sixtieth birthday party that she specifically had not asked for…. and now he was dead…
"I hate meeting like this," Chaff cracks, though his voice is choked. "Even if it is the one funeral that we're actually invited to. Or able to attend." He shakes his head bitterly. "We've lost so many this year, and we can't even travel out of district to pay our respects. Dell and Guernsey…. Acacia… all of them will have wanted us there…"
Seeder lays a comforting hand on his shoulder. "I know. But I'm pretty sure that, even in an ideal world, it would be hard to invite people to a funeral if you're the one who's actually dead."
Seeder isn't known for her wit, and her dry quip is more of a joke Chaff might say, so she's shaken when her former apprentice lifts emotional, fierce eyes to her. "It's not funny…" he hisses in a shaky whisper.
Seeder sighs and takes his hand. "No… it's not."
She stands with him in silence, remembering their first Victor. She remembers what it was like in Control Central, twenty-something…. twenty-seven years ago now, almost, with she and Peppa and Wolfmark all huddled together at their station and intently watching the screens while the old man barked out orders. Arrange that sponsor gift! Watch the other stations! Get that fucking alliance contract out of my sight – are Telemachus and Magnus even for reals now?! We gotta help our boy!
The nerves had only gotten worse as they watched Chaff through the screen, clawing his way through the Bloodbath… then into the Final Eight…. The Top Three…
She and Peppa had both nearly had heart attacks when the vicious boy from 1 attacked Chaff twenty days in, the other boy's sword creating an open gas line while hacking through the deserted ruins of an old airport terminal. Fire had shot out and engulfed Chaff's entire forearm. He had screamed hideously, beaten One to death with nothing but his fists, and only then set about putting the damn fire out. Victors' Mercy had later been able to save his arm, but not his hand. Seeder had given Chaff quite the tongue-lashing over what she called 'fighting bare,' to which her stubborn tribute had replied, 'Fighting bare is fighting dirty, and fighting dirty is the only way you win the Games!' She hadn't been able to help agreeing with that.
Next to her in the present, Chaff is now stoic, but underneath the surface, she can tell: he is also brooding darkly. Ready to explode any second. She gives his hand a squeeze.
"Don't let it out," she says gently. "Not just yet. I'll tell you when you can let that anger out, but for right now…"
"Put it on your calendar then, because I'm going to let it out soon…." He stares at her sadly. "The next Quarter Quell's only a couple years away, Seedey. It'll be here before you know it. We have to do something, by then."
It's crazy, it's mad. Yes, she and Chaff have been spying secretly for the rebels and Plutarch for quite some time now, but still… they're not ready! She decides to cover up her fear with a snort. "The only thing you'll be doing is making sure Haymitch doesn't drown in his own beer and piss. You know the next Quell is going to be hard for him, and he's going to get a lot of unwanted attention…" Chaff nods glumly. She touches his shoulder. "If you're that serious about fighting…. Make sure that you're ready, and that you're fighting on behalf of the right people and reasons. Think of Laurel…."
She knows she's hit a nerve when Chaff stiffens at this, his dark eyes pained as he thinks about the girl from 9 she still suspects he had feelings for, when he was a new Victor. Laurel Flamsteed had passed away quite abruptly over in the Grain District right after Augustus Braun came home. Lingering symptoms of COVID, it was autopsied, even all these decades removed from pandemic later. Chaff shakes his head, sniffling.
"It's too late for that."
"Is it?" she challenges him. "I'm not sure how we got to this reversal in levels of patience, my dear, but if you truly felt anything for that girl, you'll honor her memory when you have to fight."
Chaff grips her hand and holds fast. "No, Mama Seeder," he mumbles, eyes steely and determined. "When we have to fight."