Chapter 66- Terra Coppersmith
"Will somebody tell me what the hell is going on?"
I throw myself down onto the plush couch in the living room of the train. I pull the diamonds from my neck and my ears and toss them both onto the table in the middle. Postumius danced from the car to the train, and he's dancing even now, a strange little jig all the way to his room. Damius looks at me, then looks at Shuttle and Woven, saying nothing.
"I don't see why we had to leave," Tiffany grumbles.
"Terra isn't well!" Lem says, looking at me with pity.
"Go to bed you three; we'll have enough to do tomorrow," Damius says. With a little more grumbling, he herds his stylists down the hall to their respective rooms, before going to his own.
"Let's take a walk," Woven says, gesturing for me to get up. The look in her eyes suggests I don't argue, so I don't. Ignoring the Capitol attendants, Shuttle, Woven, and I walk over to the front door and step out onto the train tracks. We carry on down the line maybe twenty feet, then stop and begin to talk quietly amongst ourselves.
"What's going on? Why did we leave so suddenly?" I whisper to Shuttle, looking over to the brightly lit Capitol. Cars and people go by, oblivious to everything but themselves.
"They were taking notice of you, even though I hoped they wouldn't," Shuttle says stiffly.
"Like Lissi Hornfell? Why did we leave so suddenly after I met her?"
"She collects victors, you heard her. She sponsors the tributes she finds the most attractive, and then she brings them in to her parties and hands them around like party favors to her guests. I can name dozens of tributes who have fallen prey to her. She sponsored you, the pretty girl from 1, and Calypso this year."
Shuttle looks at me hard. "I won't let what happened to me and the others happen to you. I won't. So I'm not going to let you be a mentor; they've got me and Woven and Woof, we can manage. I want you to stay put in District 8 with your sister, safe."
I look out over the city, unsure what to say. "Can they make me be a mentor?"
"We'll delay it. Hide you from the public eye until they forget about you."
"You and Fletcher had quite a few sponsors this year following your love story. You were one of the more popular tributes in the Capitol this year," Woven says.
"So it'll be harder for me to fade into obscurity," I say, biting my nails. My prep team will be upset with me, but I don't care.
"We'll manage. You have your sob story about being an orphan and looking after your sister. With a little luck, it'll buy you some time," Woven whispers. What exactly have they gone through, my two mentors? From the fierceness in their eyes I can tell it's nothing good; I have some ideas but I really don't want to know.
"So why did we leave?" I ask again.
"The predators were coming for you; I could have named twenty of those 'sponsors' who were lurking around, waiting for me to leave you alone," Shuttle says. "That's what they do; they get the victor alone, and then they proposition her. If she doesn't comply, they threaten her."
"They threatened you, didn't they," I say. It's a fact, not a question. Shuttle's eyes shut off temporarily.
"I won't let that happen to you. It was time to go before anything happened. I sent all the necessary gifts and thank you notes to the President ahead of time, because we were at his house."
Shuttle leans in and whispers, "He's not above threatening victors himself."
"I figured," I say.
"They'll be getting suspicious if we stay out here too long," Woven whispers to both of us. "Back to the train."
The cold night air bites at my cheeks as we walk back to the open door; I fight down a flashback, rubbing the cold from my face. Shuttle holds my arm more gently than she had earlier.
"Are you alright?"
I nod. "I don't like the cold; it gives me flashbacks."
Shuttle smiles grimly. "That's me with water," she says, and I want to ask her what she means, but then we're at the door and I don't get a chance.
I've curled up in a soft nightgown and a plush white robe on my even softer bed. The evening dress I wore tonight is folded neatly and placed on a chair in the corner of the room. I don't know where everyone else is, but I know they're safe. As safe as you can be when you're a victor.
I'll be home tomorrow; back home with Iry and Deecey, and then I can move forward with life. If Shuttle and Woven can really make it so that I don't have to be a mentor, then I have a chance to regain something of a normal life.
And I can forget everything that's happened.
I pull the covers over my head, thinking about everything that's happened since I left on the Victory Tour; everyone I've met, everywhere I've seen. Mags, Beetee, Silver, the Capitol guests at the party tonight. Aero, whoever he is. Lissi Hornfell who collects people like me. Last year I never would have dreamt I would be here; I thought I would always live on Engineering Road, working in the factories.
I think of my fellow tributes, now buried in their own districts, a simple headstone above their graves. I think of both the ones I knew and the ones I didn't; Calypso with her shiny hair, the little twelve-year-old from 9, the brother and sister from 6. The Career girl from 2 with the long blonde hair. All gone, remembered only in memories and on the tapes of the Games, which I will never watch.
I think of them, and I let them go. I can't hold onto them anymore. Quietly, the tears come, sliding onto my pillow and making it damp. For the first time since I was reaped, I feel at peace, and I don't know exactly why. Maybe it's the chance at normalcy.
Rubbing the tears from my cheeks, I try to forget what's happened to me, if only just for tonight. I'm so tired after today, and after the past few weeks. I reach up and turn out the lights, plunging the room into darkness, save for the lights from the Capitol that dot the floor. The covers are warm and the bed is soft, and I love the peace they bring.
Drifting off to sleep, my thoughts turn instead to white flowers, a garland around my head, and the boy who loved me enough to die for me.