Dearest Diary,
You know as well as anyone that I am not an introspective woman. But however much it pains me, my emotions have become such a jumble recently that I feel I must confront and untangle them. I pledge here today, in writing, that I will turn to this task the instant our present danger subsides. Should death bar me from completing this task, I will consider it the sole point in the Reaper's favor.
She could not rid the man from her thoughts. Though they had long since lost sight of the body, her image of it – him – grew sharper with every step. With a knife in his hands, he had been a monster, a giant, a threat to be overcome, but now, he was a person, complete with thoughts and emotions and an entire fantasy life her uncooperative brain kept creating for him. Or he had been, until Katniss stabbed him.
And Peeta shoved him down.
Dear God, that crack when his skull hit the street…
No. She couldn't continue down this path. That would only lead to insanity.
Best to keep her mind busy. "Mother is going to put meat over your eye. It should help with the swelling." Katniss' voice shook. She pressed on all the same. "Perhaps the bruise as well, though I'm not certain."
"I'll be in capable hands, then." His calm was feigned, but had Katniss not become so familiar with his body language over these last few weeks, she would never have suspected it.
"Mother has tried several times over the years to teach me the art of healing. She has been caring for the sick in the village for as long as I can remember. Relatives of the ill will walk for two days for one of her poultices." At this point, she was babbling, and she couldn't bring herself to care.
Peeta extended his hand, and grateful, she took it. His knuckles were red and scraped, and for the first time, she noticed the bruises beginning to form on her own hands.
"One would think we fought a brick wall instead of a man," she said, gently tracing over his scrapes with her thumb.
"I wish we had."
Peeta's jaw clenched, and though his eyes never stopped scanning the street ahead of them, Katniss knew he saw the man's cold, dead face everywhere he looked.
She gave his hand a reassuring squeeze. "Me too."
"This felt like an adventure until now." Peeta's voice cracked. "Dangerous, yes, and I thought I understood the risks. I had never been more afraid than I was in Crane's study, but…"
"It was still a game. Now it's real."
"Now it's real," he agreed.
His hand tightened around hers, and Katniss leaned in, pressing her cheek against his shoulder. He smelled of sweat, and grime from the alleyway had left a rough texture on his coat, but he felt warm and solid against her. Katniss breathed all of him in, letting the air linger in her lungs an extra moment before she exhaled and straightened. No time for this nonsense now, not with Crane's threats looming over them.
She ought to have known something was amiss the instant the house came into view. Nothing about their rented home's appearance suggested anything had changed since she left, but if any novel she had ever encountered was to be believed, there should have been a hovering atmosphere of wrongness, a foreboding stillness in the air. At the very least, the world should have supplied dark, overhanging clouds and drizzling rain instead of blue skies and sunshine.
Instead, Katniss' realization was put off until no one answered the door. She frowned and glanced towards Peeta, who shrugged. She tried again, rapping against the door itself instead of using the knocker this time. "Mary? It's Katniss. I'm back!"
"Hello!" Peeta shouted, his deeper voice carrying further than hers ever could. Still, no one came.
Worry pooled in her stomach as she pushed open the door. "Mary, are you home? Mother? Prim?"
A war zone greeted her. Every decoration had been torn from the wall. The long rug that ran through the entryway had been pulled up on one side, and it glimmered with tiny shards of glass, the remains of a mirror. Dozens, perhaps hundreds, of sheets of paper were strewn all over the floor.
The floor creaked as Peeta stepped in behind her. "Oh no," he breathed.
"Prim? Mother?" she shouted again, knowing now that she would receive no answer.
Katniss tore up the stairs. The landing's disarray matched that of the downstairs. In her bedroom, all the drawers had been pulled from her nightstand, their contents strewn across the floor. Both beds were stripped and pulled away from their usual positions so the intruders could check underneath.
A wave of dizziness crashed over her, and Katniss leaned heavily on the wall, struggling to remain upright.
She heard an indistinct voice from downstairs. A female voice downstairs.
Katniss took the stairs two at a time, almost tripping over her skirts in her rush. She could hear Peeta somewhere at the back of the house, perhaps the kitchen, talking in a calm, gentle tone. The kitchen door stood open, and there was Peeta, squatting next to a woman in a chair.
"How dare they come in here? And the gall of doing it in broad daylight! Everyone says London is going to the animals, and I'm starting to believe it."
Mary. Katniss tried unsuccessfully to hide her disappointment.
Peeta turned and nodded at her before going back to untying Mary's binds. She had been fastened to the rickety wooden chair with strips of fabric Katniss recognized as the curtains from Mother's bedroom.
Mary had not missed a beat. "Now I'm not being paid to let anyone waltz in and take whatever they please, you understand, and I did my best to try and stop them, but I couldn't hold them off three to one, you know."
"Where were Prim and Mother?"
"Oh, Miss Everdeen! I was wondering where you'd run off to this time." Free at last from her bindings, Mary rubbed at her wrists, trying to restore circulation. "And where have the two of you been, that you got all torn up like that? Are you hurt?"
"We had our own run-in with some of London's less-savory characters," Peeta explained.
Katniss had no patience for distractions. "Mary, where were Mother and Prim when all of this was happening."
"Mrs. Everdeen and Miss Primrose had just left for their ride with Mr. Crane, thank goodness."
Mary was still talking, but Katniss could not hear her over the roar in her own head.
Stupid! She never should have left them alone, not when she was the only one who understood how black Crane's core truly was. For all she knew, Crane might have worn one of his oily, false smiles as he helped them climb into his carriage, Mother and Prim trusting, blind to the danger he posed. She could see it now, a pleasant ride to the park morphing into a nightmare as Mother realized that they had entered an unfamiliar neighborhood, as Prim banged on the door and screamed to be let out.
Would Crane hurt them? He surely would not let Katniss escape without punishment, even if the plans were back in his possession, but Mother and Prim knew nothing.
Mary's voice interrupted her thoughts. "No chance I'll have this place put back together again before they get back, is there? I'll at least get the glass cleaned up. I wouldn't want anybody cutting themselves on it."
"Go home, Mary."
Peeta softened Katniss' words. "Take some time to clean yourself up and settle your nerves. We will let Mrs. Everdeen know what happened, and she will understand that you need rest."
He helped her up and escorted her to the door, and Katniss was left alone. She sat down in the chair Mary had vacated, and her head sank into her hands. Every scenario that flashed through her mind was worse than the last.
Peeta's steps were heavy on the wooden floor, and though she heard him stop in front of her, Katniss could not bring herself to move.
"What do you want to do?" Peeta's words broke the horrible silence that had fallen over the room. Finally, she looked up.
He held out the blueprints, and she took them.
"They must have been looking for these," he said.
Katniss nodded. "They knew we were gone." She hated how small and weak she sounded. She swallowed around the lump in her throat. "And Crane was able to take Mother and Prim without them even suspecting they were being abducted." They must have realized by now that they were in jeopardy, but did they know why they were being held? Time had warped a dozen times already today, but it surely must have been hours since they set out on their carriage ride.
"Perhaps we should go to the War Office with this."
"No." Katniss met his gaze and held it. "Involving the War Office is as good as signing Mother and Prim's death certificates. Whatever we do, we have to do it ourselves."
Peeta must have helped her to her feet. Katniss was certain she wouldn't have been able to get up by herself with the way her brain was ripping through potential plans, but now she was standing and had a death grip on Peeta's hands. In this case, she would accept the reasonable explanation.
"Crane will want the blueprints back, but he also can't have anyone knowing what he's done."
Katniss had reached the same conclusion. "Any offer to trade the plans for Prim and Mother will be a trap," she agreed. "We just need to spring the trap."
"You make it sound so simple."
"We can do it. I know we can. We must be able to outsmart him somehow. After all, Crane's on his own, and we're working together." A worrying thought came to her. "You will come with me, won't you?"
His small, tight smile failed to push away the sadness in his eyes. "Always."