Chapter Thirty-Eight, Planning Ahead

Artemis had been walking in the forest in complete silence, not even bothering to make a show yet. They will get their show soon enough, thought the boy, almost grunting.

He had set up a small camp by a colony of large rocks, which formed a shelter. Using the bed sheets Silyah had given him, the raven-haired teenager had fashioned a relatively comfortable cushion, which would serve him as a bed when night would fall. One of the few comforting thoughts that came with the end of the Games was that soon, the boy would not have to endure any more bad nights in the middle of a foreign forest.

Artemis sighed, looking through his supplies. He had his bow and a dozen of arrows, the knife Acassie had thrown at him, a few plums and the first aid kit that once belonged to Scpenser Ross. It wasn't much, but it was very likely that he would not need much anyway.

Sitting down cross-legged on his improvised bed, Artemis closed his eyes. He had not gotten much time to meditate since his arrival in Panem and he judged that now was a good time for a session. If anything was to calm him, that would be it, not to mention that it would give him the time to visualize the next steps of his plan, which was still quite sketchy. There were way too many variables to take into consideration and its final results would probably all be far from satisfying…

The thing was that Artemis was not from this time, whereas Silyah was – Panem was her world, not his – and even if he managed to win the Games, there was no guarantee that it would make a difference about him being stuck in the future. For all he knew, he could remain trapped in that time stream anyway, resulting in yet another waste of human life. If such a thing was to happen, then letting Silyah win would be the best long-term solution…

It is the most sensible solution as far as the results go, thought Artemis. If I win despite the odds, what am I to do here? Stay with the mayor in District 3? Deal with Opal face to face and let the world live with the consequences such a struggle could leave behind? Very unlikely. If someone was to stay alive in this time, it was Silyah. Artemis owed her that. Of course, there was always the possibility of Caskar winning the Games, but Artemis knew that they could not let that one occur. The boy let out a long breath; all his thoughts seemed to constantly go back to his ally. You have grown too close to Silyah; that is the problem, he told himself. You have never felt those kinds of emotions towards a girl before… Artemis's lips formed a sour grin as he spared a moment to think of Minerva. It was close, but never as such. The pale boy sighed. This was not only because of the girl… It was that conscience manifesting itself again, making sure that the only thing Artemis could do while knowing that it was the right thing would be to make sure that Silyah returned from this utter madness alive. This is the only thing you can try... Hopefully, this chain of highly dangerous actions will not cause too much damage in the time continuum… Artemis slowly opened his eyes. It is strange how one's priorities can change so suddenly given the right set of highly improbable circumstances.

The teenager got to his feet, stepping outside his small shelter.

"Soon," he murmured, feeling something odd creeping up in his chest. Maybe that was how any person would feel if they knew that they held the power to change the very essence of the world. For all he knew, he could even have the opportunity to change Panem with a few paradoxes and with a bit of luck, the People could stop Opal once and for all and Silyah's life could be saved.

All for the better…

"This is strange," contemplated Peeta as he watched a recap of Artemis and Silyah's goodbyes.

"I don't see what's odd…" Katniss thought about her own stay in the arena. "It's what we should have done not to get in all this trouble…"

The woman looked down at the thin silver ring at her finger. During their Victory Tour, Peeta had proposed to her under the pressure of the Capitol. Fortunately for Katniss, who had never been too keen on the idea of marriage, the third Quarter Quell had kept many busy as the districts had been scandalized by the special rule of the 75th Hunger Games.

During this special event, the tribute's age limit of 18 years old had been lifted. A sixty-year-old would thus have as many chances of getting Reaped than a young adult, or a teen with a few tesserae. Of course, the Capitol had been very interested in this special rule, but in the districts, it was nearly been greeted with a rebellion… Eventually, some people managed to calm the frenzy, promising that another – a wiser and better – opportunity to earn peace and justice would come soon enough. As if that would really happen…

"It's very courageous of them, if you want my opinion," continued Katniss. "The Capitol will not let two people escape the arena ever again, so it will be easier for them to let the odds decide who will win."

"Don't you think it's sad? Unfair?"

Katniss turned towards him. "Really? Peeta, we are speaking about the Capitol and their Hunger Games."

"Just think about his, Katniss; Artemis and Silyah really seem to like each other. They could have had a life together by deciding to fight side by side, but the thought of losing the other one made them think that all hope was already lost…"

"You know, they could be faking," said the dark-haired girl quietly.

A flash of pain appeared in Peeta eyes. He felt like snapping back a reply that went along the lines of "just like you did with me," but he could not get such a sentence escape his lips. He had been brokenhearted, yet he still hoped that one day, Katniss would completely share his feelings.

In the two victors' screening room, the image on the television had been split into two sections, allowing the viewers to see Artemis and Silyah; each following a different path and trying to ignore that they both wanted to spare the other.

"Is everything going well on you side?" Plutarch paced in the Gamemakers' room, keeping an eye on both the tributes and his employees.

"Yes, yes, Heavensbee… Everything is well," said a blonde woman, turning to face her superior. "That is the problem."

The Head Gamemaker sat beside her. "Problem, Cassiopeia?"

"Yes, problem. We are being way too nice. These are the final three Heavensbee; we need to make the grand finale more of a show. Now they're just wandering in the woods, several miles from each other."

"Ah," Plutarch looked at the map of the arena. "I see… Tell me, what happened last time we intervened in the arena?"

"We created a marvelous show for our audience," answered Cassiopeia.

"And why was that?"

"Because we made sure all the tributes would meet up. Face it Heavensbee, the two kids from 3 won't kill anyone else, you can clearly see that. Let Caskar take them out and we can get this over in less than twenty-four hours."

"You're missing the point, Cassiopeia. Haven't you realized what happened on the very first day these tributes were placed in the same room?" He paused for a few seconds. "They formed small rival groups, that's what happened," he explained, trying to make his employee see the potential in the situation.

"I don't deny that, Heavensbee, but right now they are all alone."

"And pressure is building up. If we tried to do something, the audience would certainly not be surprised; they are all waiting for Caskar to quickly win. Now, the boy is vowing to kill both his rivals and he is probably expecting our intervention. Now, there is tension, suspense, worry. Think about it. When we will have our victor, our district audience will be relieved of all that tension and they won't even bother being angry with us."

"But you intend to do something, Heavensbee. I know you. You've got something planned out. Something so small that it could pass for regular circumstances… Don't you?"

The man smiled at her. "This is a brand new decade for the Games, why not change things up? We'll only interfere with the natural course of events if we need something to happen."

Seated behind her monitor, Opal mumbled something under her breath. Only someone with bionic ears could have heard the series of profanities and curses leaving her mouth. She had enough of Plutarch and not enough magic left to control him while holding her spell at the same time. She wanted these Games to end – with Artemis dying, preferably – but apparently, the man wanted to take things slowly.

"We will," Cassiopeia rolled her eyes. "Two walking brains and a Career who spend most of his arena time in a world of his own; they won't do what we'll want them to do if we just wish for it to happen."

At the other end of the room, "Belinda Zito" cleared her throat. "Something is going on on camera 27."

Cassiopeia's emerald eyes moved to the screen. "Put it up on my monitor."

Plutarch moved his fingers on a digital keyboard and the camera's footage appeared on the biggest screen of the control room.

"You did not believe that our tributes had the potential to provide us with a good show?" The Head Gamemaker turned to his fair-haired employee.

"Not really… I did not," admitted the only female Gamemaker aside from Belinda.

"I think that we just caught the audience's attention with this one," said Plutarch, smiling at the screen. "Don't you love these kids? They're full of surprises!"

Cassiopeia nodded slowly. "Indeed…"

The mixed vegetation was growing less and less dense and the blazing sun was high up in the sky, leaving nothing but discomfort behind. How could the climate of the arena be so… Unsystematic?

It was the beginning of the afternoon and so far, no one had encountered another tribute, even if they all had a plan and a role in mind for the grand finale.

With his knees bent in order to maximize his balance, Artemis Fowl was trying to the best of his abilities not to scare away the rabbit he intended to have for dinner. The boy pulled his bow's string back slowly, carefully taking his aim, targeting the animal's tiny chest. He took the time to calculate his arrows's trajectory and then released it, hoping for the best. Unfortunately, it was at this moment that his small prey decided to jump away. The arrow flashed past the rabbit's left ear as it bounced to the right.

Artemis frowned, mentally cursing the creature. Why was this hunting stuff so difficult and tedious?

After four equally disappointing attempts at working with the bow and arrows, Artemis decided to do things a little differently; a snare would be much easier to operate and build and it would probably provide him with a larger chance of success.

As it turned out, it was a good thing that Artemis had such a great amount of patience. With every passing day, there were fewer and fewer animals in the arena, which meant that getting food would be becoming more problematic than what it had been during the early days of the Games.

Finally, an hour after his snare was set up, Artemis caught something. As a smile of satisfaction stretched the corners of his lips, the boy went to his catch. The wild rabbit was smaller than the one he had first hunted, but it would be better than running on an empty stomach.

Doing what he had learned in training, the boy took the animal in his delicate hands, quickly snapping his neck. A shiver went down his spine; he would never get used to the nauseous feeling he had whenever he had to kill his preys even if he knew that it was inevitable in order for him to stay alive. If only Holly knew what he had done for the sake of survival… She would have either punched him, or cursed humanity for the invention of the Hunger Games… Or perhaps both… Not that it matters now, thought Artemis as he took the rabbit back to his camp to skin it. Holly was not here and his chances of ever seeing her again were getting considerably slimmer.

Shaking away the grief he felt, Artemis reached in his bag to retrieve his invention, only to remember that he had given it to Silyah. He would have to build an old-fashioned fire to cook his meal; something that was just as big a task as what catching the rabbit had been. Still, after some time and a great deal of frustration, Artemis managed to light a small fire. Oh, how proud would Butler have been! Using one of the ever so useful bed sheets he had inherited from Silyah, the boy covered the smoke of his small fire. There was no need for Caskar to have any kind of help when it came to locating him. The hunt was probably what the Capitol audience longed for; he would not take that away from them.

Added to the blazing heat of the sun and the dry climate, the growing fire made the temperature around Artemis unbearable. For a brief moment, he wondered if the Gamemakers could get rid of the water in the arena, just to make the tributes live through another hell. It would not surprise him one bit if they managed to do that. Artemis had no doubt that Opal would sit back in her chair and watch him die of thirst with a huge satisfaction.

Suddenly, a short but enjoyable cold gush of wind made its away in the arena. It might have seemed like a divine gift for the tributes who were all enduring the harsh climate, but to the dry forest, it could have some very unfortunate consequences…

When Artemis noticed that his fire was getting out of hands, it was already too late. Alarmed by the heat, Artemis looked down on his shirt where a flame had begun its work. Letting out a surprised and strangled yelp, Artemis yanked his shirt off before the fire could do too much harm on his pale body. Artemis clenched his teeth; the flame had had just enough time to start eating through a thin layer of his skin, which was already turning bright red. Praising himself for being a fast thinker, the boy took his water bottle and emptied it on the expanding blaze, partially controlling it.

Being as fast as he could, Artemis packed up his belongings, knowing that some things would have to be left behind, but preferring an uncomfortable sleep to the idea of burning or choking to death.

The bed sheet that once served as a way to hinder the smoke's propagation had now caught in the semi-extinguished flames, rendering it completely useless. The smoke would soon become too thick and the fire would start to spread once again.

Holding on to what he had saved, Artemis ran away, wondering when this insanity would come to an end.

As this chapter was posted on September 1st, we would like to wish a happy birthday to our dearest Artemis Fowl II!