Chapter 32- Terra Coppersmith
"Terra, you need to lie down upstairs; there's nothing you can do right now," Shuttle says gently, trying to guide me out of my chair. I shrug her off.
"I'm not leaving until she's safe!" I put my head in my hands and keep watching Iry's screen. Why won't that stupid District 12 girl leave? Why does she have to stay there, even while the sun is starting to set? Iry's been trapped in those bushes for hours, unable to drink or move, and I can't send her any supplies while Celosia is sitting there.
"Celosia hasn't seen her yet; Iry is safe!" Shuttle says.
"Terra, you need to go upstairs," Woof says, standing up for the first time in an hour and walking the two steps over to me. "There's nothing you can do right now, so the best thing is to go upstairs and lie down. Shuttle can go with you."
"I can't go, not while she's in danger," I say. I am not leaving until Celosia is gone and Iry's gotten food!
Shuttle lets go of my arm and starts to talk to Woof like I'm not even here. Woven's gone out to a party to try and wrangle more sponsors, which leaves me here to watch over Iry. I need to stay here.
While they argue, I look around at the other mentors. The Viewing Hall has changed a lot since yesterday; Stations 5 and 10 have completely shut down; their mentors gone. I don't know where mentors go once their tributes are dead. Maybe home? I hope I never have to find out.
Like Shuttle said would happen, most of the others are taking shifts in watching over their tributes. Corinna walked out earlier after the Careers killed her boy tribute, and she hasn't come back yet. Elm's been keeping his head in his hands a lot today; I think he'd like a break, but he can't go until Corinna comes back.
"She's got to listen to sense; there's nothing she can do right now and that's that!" Woof says, his voice rising. Ripple looks over from the station next to us; none of the other mentors are fighting like this.
"It's her sister; give her a little slack," Shuttle says, keeping her voice low.
"Is everything alright?" Woof and Shuttle both go quiet, because Mags has come and joined us. Her face is still lined with grief from earlier today, when her girl tribute killed herself, but she looks like the same Mags that comforted me on the beach four and a half years ago.
"It's- it's my sister," I blurt out, pointing to the screen. You can't see Iry, but you can see Celosia sitting beside the waterfall. "She's trapped."
"And you want to protect her," Mags finishes, nodding. "Of course you do. Come, why don't you take a walk with me and let your co-mentors handle it. I need a walk anyways." There's something about her voice that makes me feel safe and secure, so I get up and follow Mags out of the Viewing Hall and into the elevator.
"She's done well so far, you know," Mags says, looking at me as we step out into the lobby of the Training Center.
"I know. I'm scared for her, though," I admit. Mags makes me feel like I can pour out my heart to her and she'd understand. "I'm sorry about your girl tribute."
Mags sighs. "She wasn't supposed to be here. Another girl was supposed to volunteer for her and she didn't."
"I'm sorry."
"Me too. She was a sweet girl." Mags pauses and looks up at the high ceilings of the lobby. "She died on her own terms, which was also admirable. She couldn't have won."
The lobby is a place I haven't spent much time; mostly I've come through to go up to the apartment after one of those stupid Capitol parties. I'll admit that's beautiful; the walls and floors are made of white marble; one whole side of the room is made of windows going straight up to the ceiling. The ceiling itself is made of shiny white and gold tiles, decorated with shimmering chandeliers.
I try to piece together where everything in this room came from originally; the marble is obviously from District 2; the lights from District 3, the glass probably from District 6. And all of it completely made Capitol.
Why am I wondering about where the stone comes from when Iry's cannon could be firing right now? She could be dead and I would be admiring the shiny ceilings, completely oblivious.
"Come outside with me," Mags says.
"We're allowed out?" I ask, following her to the door. I wasn't aware that we could come and go as we please.
"If you've been a victor for as long as I have, you can do what you like. To a point," Mags says, holding the door open.
The outside of the Training Center is bathed in a golden light, and it only makes Mags's hair look redder. The edges around the building are all planters filled with beautiful flowers; blossoms in shades of blue, purple, yellow, and pink. Iry wouldn't have seen these; the chariots pull into the back of the building after the parade is over and then take the elevator up from there. The tributes never even see the front of the Training Center, which is beautiful.
"Why did you bring me out here?" I ask, leaning over to examine a purple flower I've never seen before.
"To take your mind off the situation," Mags says simply. "Your sister is in danger and there's not a thing you can do about it."
"It was easier when it was me in the arena," I say, a thought I haven't spoken to anyone but myself before. "I had to think about Iry still, but she wouldn't have died if I hadn't come home."
"It's easier to die as a tribute than live as a victor," Mags says, sitting down on a marble bench built into the flowerbeds. "And you look shocked that I'd say that, but it's true. You know it yourself."
I do. The arena took who I used to be and destroyed her; the person I am now was built from the losses I suffered. Fletcher; my fingers; my legs. Gone.
"You still have a tribute you're hoping will come home," I say, looking at Mags. Her skin is painted in the golden light, and it makes her look ethereal. Like what I always thought a victor would look like; strong and powerful. Bathed in golden light like a goddess. I was naïve as a child to think that victors were gods. We're very, very human.
"Yes."
"So you can't hope for my sister to live if your boy is going to win." I'm not trying to accuse her; I'm just stating the facts. Mags seems to know the intent behind my words, though. Her face changes subtly; it becomes softer in the fading light.
"I can do both," she says, smiling faintly. "Of course I hope Shore will come home. I would make a terrible mentor if I didn't."
"There's a but, there," I say.
Mags's smile deepens and she chuckles a little. "But the boy is overconfident. I know his type; I've seen them all before. Not one of them made it out alive. The over confident ones never do."
"I'm sorry."
"What's done is done. I'll keep holding out hope for him, but I expect the worst." She sighs.
"And my sister?" I ask.
"She's young," Mags says. I look out past her, at the streets around us. Cars drive by in the dozens; families with young children make their way home after a long day of doing I don't know what. I still don't know what these people do with their time besides watch the tributes die.
"So you think she can't win?" I say, clenching my fingers into fists. Somehow I think that if Mags doesn't think Iry will live, then I can't either. Shuttle will protect me, and so will Woven and Woof. I can trust Mags to tell me the truth, and nothing but the truth.
"I never said that. She's lived long enough with that girl from 12 on her heels, hasn't she? This is only Day 2. I think your sister might surprise you."
"I didn't let her have allies," I say, unclenching my hands and gripping my knees instead. "I should have let her get an ally."
"Who would have killed her later," Mags says. "What's done is done, Terra. We all have to live with our decisions, whether we think they're the right ones or the wrong ones."
The golden light fades quickly, casting shadows onto the stone walls of the Training Center. The Capitol won't sleep, though. And neither will I tonight.
"How do you feel now?" Mags asks, looking at me. I'm struck by how intelligent her eyes are; a green hazel that has seen so much. I'm not the only one who lost things to the arena.
"Better," I say. "Still incredibly worried about Iry." The worry of it all makes me want to rip this bench apart with my bare hands and throw it, or tear the world apart to find my sister.
"Understandable," Mags says, standing up. "Are you ready to go back down?" I nod.
I follow Mags out of the cooling night air and back into the filtered air of the Training Center. After being outside, it smells stale and stuffy in the lobby. While we wait for the elevator, I look at Mags. "Good luck with your boy," I say.
She smiles, a warm smile that somehow reminds me of my mother. "Thank you. And the same for your sister."
Mags pulls me into a hug that I return without hesitation. She whispers in my ear, then lets me go as the elevator doors ding open. We're quiet on the ride down, but she pats my arm as the doors open into the Viewing Hall again, where we separate. To get back to Station 8 I have to pass by Station 12; its screens are lit up, showing Celosia still sitting by the waterfall, but no mentor sits in the chair before them. District 12 is on her own.
As I make my way back to Shuttle and Woof, Mags's words that she whispered to me burn in my memory.
"Bring her home."