Chapter Sixteen

Thomas had been right, they'd been very close to the place where the trees gave way to the waterside, and he'd also been right about people heading there. He hadn't stayed, decided by the sight of five other tributes lurking by the water's edge on the opposite side, and another hidden in the trees behind them. Probably on look-out. He hadn't been able to see them properly across the dancing light across that incredibly blue surface.

He couldn't make out faces but one of them had very dark skin and he was almost certain it was the tribute Newt had picked out as the perpetually grumpy Forehead. He had made sure they hadn't seen him before he headed back to Newt. The last thing he needed was to lead anyone towards his friend.

Thomas had never been so frightened as when he heard the quiet footsteps somewhere in front of him, headed in the same direction he was. It had been agony to follow quietly, knowing they were going to come across his district-mate but unable to stop them now in case they weren't alone. He had followed behind, the distance between himself and the intruder far too large if they attacked Newt right away.

He couldn't remember drawing his bow, only that he had, and when he'd rounded on the boy he now knew to be Minho there had been a moment where he'd almost loosed the arrow straight away. All that had stopped him was the sweet relief that filled Newt's face, the warmth his eyes had held when he'd seen Thomas. Thomas had felt so horrendously cornered when he'd see that blade pointed at his friend.

As he jogged through the trees with Newt on one side and their new ally on the other Thomas felt both relieved and incredibly paranoid. He didn't want to spill any more blood if he could help it, but what if it was a trick? What if they were being led into a trap? What if his inability to kill the asian boy got Newt hurt?

Thomas shook his head as a migraine began to form. He had to force things out of his brain because if he didn't he'd go crazy.

Keep it simple, Thomas.

Keep your head.

Keep Newt Safe.

Thomas estimated an hour had gone by before they found the slope. They'd headed on an almost perpendicular course, further into the forest and away from the centre. If the Arena was roughly the average of its usual size he guessed they must be nearing the outer edge by now. Unless it was on the big side this year to allow more space for more tributes to roam, in which case it could be anywhere. He figured that the further out they went the less chance they had of being stumbled upon by Careers. Or anyone else.

Thomas eyed the slope. At first it had him feeling edgy, wondering what the purpose of such a thing could be. They slowed and then stopped, and as Newt sank down to the forest floor to catch his breath Thomas and Minho investigated the grassy mound and the surrounding area.

Curiosity soon led to a quiet sense of relief building in Thomas's chest. The trees near the mound and those covering its summit were different from the ones they'd been passing since they entered the Arena. The trunks were much thicker around and the branches much denser. It would make them easier to climb, which was both a relief and a worry. When you looked up through the canopy you discovered something else.

The trees on the mound were shorter than the rest of the forest, making their top branches level with those below even though they were standing on the very crest of the slope. Thomas felt muscles loosen in his stomach.

It mean that even if they climbed right to the top they'd still be just as hidden as they would in the taller trees, with the added bonus of thicker branches and the higher ground. Thomas was almost smiling when they made their way back to Newt, and truly smiling by the time he reached him. Newt flashed him a warm smile as he stood to meet them, pulling Thomas into a brief hug.

It was unnecessary, they'd only been out of sight for ten minutes, maybe fifteen, but as soon as Newt's arms crossed his back he felt better. If Minho thought their behaviour odd he didn't say anything, looking off into the trees with the same unreadable expression they had seen earlier.

"We should find somewhere safe, catch some sleep while we can. If i know Gally he'll have joined the Careers by now, and he's not one to give up when there's something he wants." Minho turned to look at them both with his dark blue eyes. "He'll want you two shanks dead, you can bet on it."

Thomas swallowed as he was brought back into the moment with a bump. They had to find somewhere safe to camp, and as he looked up at the fat trees on the slope he knew it was really the safest choice they had. As always, Newt seemed to know exactly what he was thinking.

"Trees are the safest place near here." he spoke softly. "We'd have to go all the way up, can't risk 'em findin' us near the ground."

Minho released a shallow groan.

"Why doesn't it sound like you're joking?" the dark-haired boy muttered, looking up into the trees.

Thomas chuckled. "Because he's not."

Minho sighed, throwing them an unimpressed look.

"Easy for you to say, you're both smaller than me. Shuck, he looks like he lives in a tree. Scrawny shank."

Despite the way Minho's comment made Thomas bristle just a little, Newt snorted beside him. The blonde looked amused, his eyes alight with humour in a way that warmed Thomas's heart. When he saw Thomas looking he grinned at him.

"Yeah well. We can't all be buggin' knife throwers, now can we?"

Minho raised an eyebrow but didn't turn round, looking back up into the trees again.

"How do you know i throw them?"

Newt shrugged, adjusting his pack on his shoulders and starting towards his chosen tree.

"I'm psychic." he stated. "Obviously."

Minho laughed, following Newt's lead and picking out a tree. Thomas didn't need to think about his, simply following Newt o the trunk of his tree. When Newt was four or five feet up he turned his face down to look at Thomas he smiled mischievously, the way he always had when they went climbing in the Glade.

"Catch me if you can!" he called down.

The familiar sing-song tease wrapped itself firmly around Thomas's heart, making him wish more than ever they were back in their field, racing through the trees. It was something that had come into being when they were younger, born from a fairytale that Newt had favoured.

"You ain't no Gingerbread Man." he finished dutifully.

Newt's chuckle floated down as Thomas began to climb, glancing over to see Minho having less trouble than he'd made out in climbing his own tree. Thomas focused on testing each branch before he pulled himself up. The very last thing he needed was to fall out of a tree and break his neck. It'd be pretty difficult to keep Newt safe if he did that.

The blonde scaled the tree like it was nothing, and he was soon high above Thomas, settled on a deep V made by two thick boughs. He was watching Thomas climb with a wistful sort of look on his face, and Thomas felt sad without knowing why.