Chapter 5: The Calm Before The Storm


In the morning, Tansy woke up to find her prep team hanging over her. Her lessons with Priscilla and Finnick were over. This day belonged to Vita. She was Tansy's last hope. Maybe Vita could maker her look so wonderful, no one would care what came out of her mouth.

The team worked on Tansy until late afternoon, turning her skin to glowing satin, conditioning her hair, painting a shimmery pink ombre on her twenty perfect nails. Then Fabia went to work on her hair, piling her glossy, springy curls on top of her head, letting some fall down to frame and soften her face in a sweet and playful style, decorated with a shimmering, pink ribbon formed from several layers of sheer fabric with a feathery silk rosette and carefully placed pearls of varying sizes. Again, the makeup is minimal, soft and pink. Bright eyes, lightly tinted lips, lashes that threw off subtle bits of light when she blinked. Finally, they cover her entire body in a powder that gives her skin a soft candlelight glow.

Then Vita entered with what Tansy assumed was her dress, but she couldn't see because it was covered. "Close your eyes," she ordered.

Tansy could feel the silken inside as they guided her to step into it and slipped it up over her naked body. She clutched Cassia's hand as she blindly stepped into her shoes, gland to find they were at least three inches lower than the pair Priscilla had her practice in. there was some adjusting and fidgeting. Then silence.

"Can I open my eyes?" Tansy asked.

"Yes," said Vita softly. "Open them."

The girl standing before Tansy in the full-length mirror was fresh, sweet, and innocent. Beautiful and flawless like a life-sized doll, but singing with life. Her dress, oh, her dress was made entirely from layers upon layers of tiered sections of sheer, shimmery and pearlescent pink fabric that began pale as porcelain at the sides and deepened to a rosy hue toward the center. The last tier stopped three inches above her knees. A sheer layer of feathery silk ruffles peeked out from underneath and brought the hemline down another inch. The top tier wrapped around to form off-the-shoulder sleeves and each was adorned with a feathery pink silk rosette. Covering the tops of her shoulders and her arms down to the wrists was another sheer, silken pink fabric lined with tiny glimmering sequins that matched the medium shade in the tiers. The ends of the long sleeves were trimmed with a line of white pearls. The shoes were blush pink to complement the dress with crisscrossing straps and matching rosettes.

Tansy was not usually into looking so soft and feminine and full of ruffles, but the lines of the dress were clean and sophisticated. She was not cute. She was not pretty. She was graceful and precious like a budding rose. Young and full of potential that was just waiting to blossom.

For a while, they all just stared at her. "Oh, Vita," she finally whispered. "Thank you."

Vita smiled kindly. "Give me a gentle spin," she said. Tansy held out her arms and spun in a slow circle so she could observe every detail and make sure nothing was out of place. The prep team squealed in admiration. They wanted to slip her into their pockets and take her home with them.

Vita dismissed the team and had Tansy move around in the dress and shoes, which were infinitely more manageable than Priscilla's. The way the dress hung was very flattering and easy to move in. Despite how delicate it looked, it felt comfortable to wear, and because of the short length she didn't need to worry about lifting it when she walked, leaving her with one less thing to worry about. She couldn't help giving Vita a hug when she showed her the secret pocket that was added so she could still keep her conch pearl choker with her even though they had told her she wouldn't be wearing it for the interview.

"So, ready for the interview?" asked Vita. Tansy could see by her expression that she had been talking to Finnick.

"He wants me to be myself," Tansy said, fidgeting nervously, "but I'm bad with strangers."

"I don't find you so," Vita assured her. "The prep team adores you. You won over the Gamemakers. And as for the citizens of the Capitol, well, they can't stop talking about you. No one can help but admire your spirit."

Her spirit. This was a new thought for Tansy. She wasn't sure exactly what it meant, but it suggested she was a fighter. In a brave sort of way. And, now that she thought about, she supposed she was. A fighter, someone who strived to survive. Up until now, hadn't she done just that? There were plenty of times when she could've given up but for some reason she never did. It wasn't as if she was never friendly. Okay, maybe she didn't go around immediately loving and opening up to everyone she met, maybe her real smiles could be hard to come by, but she did care very deeply for some people.

Vita took Tansy's cold hands in her warm ones. "I heard it would be easier for you if you had a friend in your line of sight, so you can pretend you're talking to them if you get nervous."

Tansy nodded.

"What about me? Could you think of me as a friend?" asked Vita.

Of all the new people she had met since she left home, Vita was by far her favorite. Tansy liked her and she hadn't disappointed her yet. "I think so," Tansy said, taking a moment to consider it. Everything Vita had done for her since her arrival. The pocket for her choker. "I think you're someone I can trust."

Vita smiled. "I'll be sitting on the main platform with the other stylists. You'll be able to look right at me. When you're asked a question, find me, and answer it as honestly as possible."

"Even if what I think is horrible?" Tansy asked. Because it really might be.

"Especially if what you think is horrible," said Vita, giving her hands a reassuring squeeze.

"All right," Tansy said, squeezing back. It was a plan. Or at least a straw to grasp at.

Too soon it was time to go. The interviews took place on a stage constructed in front of the Training Center. Once Tansy left her room, it would only be minutes until she was in front of the crowd, the cameras, all of Panem.

As Vita turned the doorknob, Tansy was tempted to stop her hand. As if sensing this, Vita paused and looked her. "Remember, they already love you," she said gently. "Just be yourself."

They met up with the rest of the District 4 crowd at the elevator. Felix and his gang had been hard at work. Sean looked striking in a blue suit with wave accents. It appeared they were still channeling the Neptune theme. Even though they were meant to stay back stage, Finnick and Mags were all fancied up for the occasion.

Finnick was speechless when he saw Tansy. While Mags held her hand and told her how beautiful she looked, he felt his chest tighten. She was so young and innocent it hurt to look at her.

"I want them to remember," Vita said quietly so only he could hear. "I want them to remember they're doing this to a child."

Despite the calm expression on her face, she was angry. So was he. "Good," said Finnick. They wanted everyone in the Capitol to be ashamed of themselves when they saw Tansy. Let their guilt drive them to fight to be her sponsors so they could try to feel better about all the pain they were forcing her to endure.

When the elevator opened, the other tributes were being lined up to take the stage. All twenty-four of them sat in a big arc throughout the interviews. Tansy would be seventh since the girl tribute preceded the boy from each district. She wished she could be first and get the whole thing over with. Now she would have to listen to how witty, funny, humble, fierce, and charming all the Careers were before she went up.

Right before they paraded onto to the stage, Finnick took her by the hand. "Remember, Vita will be with you out there and we'll be over here, so you're not alone. Just be yourself, and they'll love you," he said, and gave her an encouraging smile. Mags nodded in agreement and did the same.

Tansy managed to smile back and she held it there as she and the other tributes were given the cue to walk single-file to their seats and take their places.

Just stepping onto the stage made her breath hitch. She could feel her pulse pounding in her chest. It was a relief to get to her chair, because between the heels and her legs shaking, she was afraid she would trip. Although evening was falling, the City Circle was brighter than a summer's day. An elevated seating unit had been set up for prestigious guests, with the stylists commanding the front row. The cameras would turn to them when the crowd was reacting to their handiwork. A large balcony off a building to the right had been reserved for the Gamemakers. Television crews claimed most of the other balconies. But the City Circle and the avenues that fed into it were completely packed with people. Standing room only. At homes and community halls around the country, every television set was tuned in. there would be no blackouts tonight.

Caesar Flickerman, the man who has hosted the interviews for more than forty years, bounces onto the stage. It's a little scary because his appearance has been virtually unchanged during all that time. Same face under a coating of pure white makeup. Same hairstyle that he dyes a different color for each Hunger Games. Same ceremonial suit, midnight blue dotted with a thousand tiny electric bulbs that twinkled like stars. They did surgery in the Capitol, to make people appear younger and thinner. In District 11, and for most people in 4, looking old was considered something of an achievement. Especially in 11, where so many people died early. Starvation was not an uncommon fate in District 11. Who hadn't seen the victims? Older people who couldn't work. Children from a family with too many to feed. Those crippled by injuries that never healed right because they couldn't afford proper treatment. Straggled through the streets. And one day, you would come upon them sitting motionless against a wall or lying in the fields, you heard the wails from a house, and the Peacekeepers were called in to retrieve the body. Starvation was never the cause of death officially. It was always the flu, or exposure, or pneumonia. But that fooled no one. You saw an elderly person, you wanted to congratulate them on their longevity, ask the secret of survival. A plump person was envied because they weren't scraping by like the majority. But here it was different. Wrinkles weren't desirable. A round belly wasn't a sign of success.

This year, Caesar's hair was canary yellow and his eyelids were lined with a deep, metallic blue to match his suit. He looked strange, but less frightening than he had some years in the past. Caesar told a few jokes to warm up the audience but then got down to business.

The girl tribute from District 1, looking provocative in a see-through silver gown, stepped up the center of the stage to join Caesar for her interview. You could tell her mentor didn't have any trouble coming up with an angle for her. With that flowing platinum-blonde hair, grey eyes, her body tall and lush… she was sexy all the way. Tansy was relieved sexy hadn't been her angle, because she probably would have died the minute she was made to set foot on a stage in something like that.

Each interview only lasted three minutes. Then a buzzer went off and the next tribute was up. Tansy sat like a lady, the way Priscilla showed her, as the districts slipped by. 1, 2, 3. Everyone seemed to be playing up some angle. The monstrous boy from District 2 was a ruthless killing machine. The twitchy boy from 3 was an eccentric genius.

And then they were calling Tansy Cresta, and she felt herself, as if in a dream, standing and making her way center stage. She had spotted Vita as soon as she took her place, but even her presence could not relax Tansy. Her palms were sweating like crazy. As soon as she discretely wiped them off on her dress, they were wet again. She shook Caesar's outstretched hand, and he had the good grace not to immediately wipe his off on his suit.

"Oh, my," said Caesar with a good-natured smile, "looks like someone's a little nervous. Are you feeling overwhelmed, Tansy?"

Her mouth had gone dry as sand. She wiped her hands on her skirt again and felt the lump from her choker in the secret pocket. She desperately tried to find Vita in the crowd again and locked eyes with her. She imagined the words coming from her lips. "Terrified," Tansy answered honestly. "I'd rather swim with sharks."

Caesar laughed, and she vaguely realized many of the audience had joined in.

"Sharks?" he said, turning sideways to the audience in horror, hand on his face. "Yikes! I'm not that intimidating, am I?" They shout reassurances to him and applaud. "Well, it can't be all bad. What's your favorite part about the Capitol?"

Tansy realized he was trying to help her out. "The lamb stew," she said, volunteering the first thing that came to mind, "the one with the quince. I know how hard it is to make quince edible, so I was really impressed with the rich, complex flavor they were able to draw out of it."

"Sounds like you're quite the gourmet," Caesar remarked.

"Yes." Tansy managed a smile. "My love for food is as bottomless as my stomach." She turned aside to the audience the way he had just a moment ago, careful to keep her eyes locked with Vita's as she asked with mock horror, "It doesn't show, does it?"

That earned more laughs from Caesar and the audience, and they shouted reassurances to her and applauded her for playing along.

"Tansy, I believe I speak for everyone when I say, you look absolutely fabulous," Caesar said confidently, before taking a more confidential tone with her. "When you came out in the opening ceremonies, my heart actually stopped. What did you think of your costume?"

Vita raised one eyebrow at her. Be honest. "You mean after I got over my fear of falling off the chariot?" Tansy asked.

Big laugh from the audience.

"Yes. Start then," said Caesar.

Vita, her friend, she should tell her anyway. "My heart stopped, too. I thought Vita was brilliant and it was the most beautiful costume I had ever seen and I couldn't believe I was wearing it. I can't believe I'm wearing this, either." She held her arms out slightly to give the audience a better view of the whole dress. "I mean, look at it!" The audience oohed and ahed. Vita smiled. "I don't usually go for pink frilly things, but honestly, she's turning me into a fan."

"She's turning me into a fan, too," said Caesar with a side wink at the audience.

More laughs and cheers.

"So, how about that training score? Ten. That's quite impressive for one so young," said Caesar.

Tansy bit her lip and placed her hand over the pocket holding her choker. "I think I'll save that as a surprise for the Game."

"You're killing us," said Caesar as if in actual pain. "Details. Details."

"Sorry, but my lips are sealed," she said mysteriously. She didn't want to reveal the skills she'd been hiding in front of the other tributes prematurely. "I will say this, though. If you underestimate me because I'm young, you're going to regret it."

"Speaking of young," said Caesar, "Tansy, isn't rather unusual for a younger sibling to volunteer for an older one? What were you thinking when they called your sister's name? Can you tell us about her?"

No. No. Not all of them. But maybe Vita. Tansy didn't think she was imagining the sadness on her face. "Her name is Annie. She's eighteen. That's why I volunteered. Because after this year, she'll be safe. And I love her more than anything."

You could hear a pin drop in the City Circle now.

"What did she say to you? After the reaping?" Caesar asked.

Be honest. Be honest. She swallowed hard. "She asked me to try really hard to win." The audience was frozen, hanging on her every word.

"And what did you say?" prompted Caesar gently.

The memory of her sister clinging to her and crying, begging her to come home brought tears to her eyes, and Tansy had no time to suppress them before were rolling down the sides of her cheeks. It was hard to keep her voice steady. "I promised I would."

There were croons of sympathy and heartache from the audience.

"I bet you did," said Caesar, giving her his silk handkerchief. The buzzer went off while she patted her cheeks dry, taking care not to smear her makeup. "Sorry we're out of time. Best of luck, Tansy Cresta, tribute from District 4."

The applause continued long after she was seated. Tansy looked to Vita for reassurance. She smiled gently and gave her a subtle thumbs-up.

Tansy was still in a daze for the first part of Sean's interview. He had the audience from the get-go, though; she could hear them laughing, shouting out. He played up his experience with wielding tridents, citing how he had been practicing with them since he was young and had been waiting for this opportunity his whole life without openly mentioning his sixteen years of training to become a Career. He was cocky and self-assured. He had no doubt the Games would end with his victory. Tansy was coming back into focus when Caesar asked him if he had a girlfriend back home.

Sean wore a winning smile. "Many, Caesar, but I'm always on the look out for another," he said, making what Tansy supposed was an attempt to be enticing and sensual.

Spare me, she thought, rolling her eyes.

Some small laughs came from the audience, followed by a much bigger laugh. There was confusion from everyone on stage, as neither Sean nor Caesar had said anything more, but Tansy soon understood why when she let her eyes flicker up to the screen fast enough to see that they had captured her unmistakable eye-roll and obvious disdain for his answer. Tansy's jaw went slack when she realized what she had done. She quickly shut her mouth and straightened up when Sean whipped around to glare at her.

"Uh-oh, looks like we've got a little trouble in paradise," said Caesar teasingly. "Is there something going on between the two of you?"

"Only annoyance at first sight," Sean answered vindictively. "If she was my girlfriend, I'd put poison in her hot chocolate."

"If you were my boyfriend, I'd drink it," Tansy fired back automatically.

More laughs. Some of the audience even appeared to be rolling in their seats.

"Now, now, Tansy. You've already had your turn." Caesar chided her playfully, pretending to have a hard time suppressing his own amusement.

The roar of the crowd was deafening. Sean was livid. Tansy couldn't say she blamed him, but she didn't appreciate the death glares he was shooting her way. It wasn't like she had gotten caught on purpose. She thought all the cameras would be focused on him. She didn't even like being in the spotlight.

The buzzer went off, ending Sean's interview. Tansy did her best to ignore his scowling and glaring when he returned to his seat next to hers and to not shrink away from him while they were in public. The interviews continued. She could say this for Caesar, he really did his best to make the tributes shine. He was friendly, tried to set the nervous ones at ease, laughed at lame jokes, and could turn a weak response into a memorable one by the way he reacted. 5, 6. The small girl from District 7, who was only 12, came off as quick-whited and sly. 8, 9, 10. It was District 11's turn.

Pepper and Root, wearing complementary outfits with a canary yellow color scheme stepped up to take their interview together. For the first time that night, Tansy got a good look at them. She was relieved for her friends, because it appeared their stylist had acquired some taste since the opening ceremony. Her eyes widened in surprise when she realized what kind of flowers Pepper had in her hair and Root had tucked in the buttonhole of his suit's lapel. Those little yellow flowers that looked like fuzzy buttons could only be one thing, tansy. They were wearing her flower. She wondered if their stylist had chosen it by coincidence, or if there was some deeper meaning attached to it. Caesar made a joke about how all three of them seemed to match and explained a special allowance had been made for them since Root's deafness made it difficult for him to communicate. Caesar was very kind to them, complementing their scores of seven and six in training, again, excellent scores for one so young, as well as for one suffering from a hearing impairment. When he asks what their greatest strengths will be in the arena, Pepper doesn't hesitate. "My brother may be deaf, but that's only made his sight and sense of smell sharper. We're very hard to catch," she said in a tremulous voice while Root held her hand. "And if they can't catch us, they can't kill us. So don't count us out."

"I wouldn't dream of it," said Caesar encouragingly.

The boy tribute from 12 refused to answer any of Caesar's questions. He just stood there, as if he had already given up. The limping girl from 12 was quiet but more responsive.

After the anthem, the tributes filed back into the Training Center lobby and onto the elevators. Tansy made sure to veer into a car that did not contain Sean. Unfortunately the car containing Pepper and Root was full, so Tansy ended up with the tributes from 5 and the girl from 7. The crowd slowed their entourages of stylists and mentors and chaperones, so they had only each other for company. No one spoke. Her elevator stopped to let her off first. Tansy had only just stepped onto the fourth floor when Sean's palms slammed into her shoulders. She lost her balance and crashed into a large glass vase filled with fake flowers. The vase tipped and shattered into hundreds of tiny pieces. She slipped on one of the shards and fell, managing to catch herself against the wall so she wouldn't land in the rest of the shards and get cut.

"You had no right! No right to make a fool of me during my own interview!" he roared furiously at her.

Fortunately, the elevator doors opened then and the whole crew was there, Priscilla, Finnick, Mags, Vita, and Felix.

"What's going on?" said Priscilla, a note of hysteria in her voice. "Did you fall?"

"After he shoved me," Tansy said as Mags and Vita helped her up from the awkward position she was in. She didn't like to tattle, but who knew what would have happened if the others hadn't arrived when they did?

Finnick turned on Sean. "Shoved her?" He had been afraid something like this might happen.

"This was your idea, wasn't it? Turning me into some kind of fool in front of the whole country?" Sean snapped.

"What are you talking about?" said Priscilla. "Your banter with her was your most likeable moment."

She and Felix jumped when Sean punched a hole in the wall. "Shut up! I know she's the one you all want to win!" he shouted.

You could have heard a pin drop in the moment of silence that followed.

"Calm down. We haven't done anything for her that we haven't done for you," Finnick said evenly. "And Priscilla's right. It may not seem like it to you, but that little exchange may have actually helped you. You were coming of too arrogant, and most of the audience had begun to tune you out. At least now they'll remember you."

"The audience loved the two of you before and they love you even more now that you've proved you can be entertaining," Priscilla added.

"Sponsors'll be lining up," said Mags.

Sean opened his mouth to argue but then he shut it as their words sank in. His anger seemed to turn to embarrassment. "Whatever," he said moodily. He turned on his heel and stomped off to hide out in his room.

"That boy!" Priscilla huffed. "I'm going to go make him give you a proper apology."

"It doesn't matter," Tansy said, shrugging it off, even though she was still a little rattled. And what he did was technically illegal. "Can we eat? I'm starving."

Once she had assured everyone she was perfectly fine and hadn't been injured in even the slightest way, they followed the delicious smells of their dinner that had wafted in from the dining room and took their places at the table. They started the creamy crab and corn bisque soup without Sean. If he didn't feel like coming back out, he could order something to eat in his room. Dinner was quiet, which suited Tansy just fine after all the talking she had to do for her interview.

After dinner, they watched the replay in the sitting room. Tansy thought she seemed a bit silly and vulnerable, although the others assured her she was charming. The audience had been behind her the whole way. The outfit Vita put her in had helped her look innocent enough to make her battle with stage fright endearing. She came off better than Sean, who started off strong but soon lost the audience's interest, until Tansy rolled her eyes at him and they exchanged barbs. That had definitely grabbed the audience's attention again. For a moment, Tansy wasn't just putting on a brave face. She had popped fully out of her shell and it gave her a little spark of spunk that she had been missing before. That she had been able to give the audience proof she could bring out her claws, too, made Tansy feel a little better. And whatever the audience thought about them, their outburst was, by all accounts the most memorable part of the show.

When the anthem finished and the screen went dark, a hush fell on the room. Tomorrow at dawn, Tansy and Sean would be roused and prepared for the arena. The actual Games didn't start until ten because so many of the Capitol residents rose late. But the tributes had to make an early start. There was no telling how far they would travel to the arena that had been prepared for this year's Games.

Tansy knew Finnick, Mags, and Priscilla would not be going with them. As soon as they left the Training Center, they would be at the Games Headquarters, hopefully madly signing up her and Sean's sponsors, working out a strategy on how and when to deliver gifts to them. Vita and Felix would travel with her and Sean to the very spot from which they would be launched into the arena. Still final goodbyes must be said here.

Priscilla took Tansy by the hand and, with actual tears in her eyes, wished her well. Then she kissed her on the cheek and hurried out, overcome with the emotional parting. Tansy hadn't realized the escort had become so attached to her.

"We'll see you tomorrow," Vita said with a small smile and hug. "Try to get some sleep."

"I will," said Tansy. She would try, because this was her last chance to sleep in safety and she would need her strength.

Felix looked like he wanted to hug her, too, but settled for giving her hand a reassuring squeeze. The stylists showed themselves out.

Mags wrapped her arms around Tansy and held her tight. "Take care. We'll be watching," she said, misty-eyed. "Fight to win. Avoid cornucopia." Tansy hugged Mags back and kissed her goodnight on the cheek. With one last squeeze, Mags retired to her room with a heavy heart.

It was just Tansy and Finnick now.

"Any final words of advice?" she asked.

No smiles. No jokes. "Mags is right, don't go anywhere near the blood bath. When that gong sounds, get the hell out of there. Clear out, put as much distance between yourself and the others, and find a source of water," he said grimly. "Got it?"

Tansy nodded. He pulled her into a strong, firm hug. Her chest tightened and her stomach fluttered. "Stay alive," Finnick whispered in earnest. "Don't forget we're all waiting for you to come back. Annie's waiting for you, Tansy." She felt tears form in her eyes as she pictured what would happen to Annie if she didn't make it and brought her hands up to clutch the back of his shirt, burying her face against his shoulder.

When she entered her room, she saw her covers had been drawn back by one of the silent attendants. She still wondered why they never talked. Would they get in trouble if they did? Maybe she should have made Finnick promise to tell her if she won. But that was a big if.

Tansy took a shower and scrubbed the powder, makeup, the scent of beauty from her body. All that remained of the design-team's efforts were her shimmery pink nails. She decided to keep them as a reminder of the friends she had outside the arena. Perhaps it would give her something to hold onto in the days to come. With all the ugly violence she was sure to witness, it might be nice to have something pretty to look at.

She pulled on a thick, fleecy nightgown and ordered hot milk. She took her time drinking it, enjoying its warm scent and the quiet. The calm before the storm. She did her best to empty herself of all thoughts of anxiety. She needed sleep desperately because in the arena every moment she gave into fatigue would be an invitation to death. She tucked herself into bed. It took about a minute before she realized she would never fall asleep, but she closed her eyes and tried again.

It's no good. One hour, two, three passed, and her eyelids refused to get heavy. She couldn't stop imagining all the different types of terrain she could be thrown into. Wherever it was, she was hoping for trees, which may afford her and her friends some concealment and food and shelter. Often there were trees because barren landscapes were dull and the Games resolved too quickly without them. But what would the climate be like? What traps had the Gamemakers hidden to liven up the slower moments? And then there were her friends and fellow tributes… She and Pepper and Root could only work together for so long before they would be expected to turn on each other. The one thing Tansy did know was that she wasn't going to be the one to attack them. She wouldn't let that happen.

The more anxious she was to find sleep, the more it eluded her. Finally, she was too restless to even stay in bed. She paced the floor, heart beating too fast, breathing too short. Her room felt like a prison cell. If she didn't get air soon, she was going to be sick. She wanted to see the sky and the moon on the last night no one would be hunting her. Tansy ran down the hall until she crashed into something warm and solid. It was Finnick. He couldn't sleep either.

"Whoa! Slow down," he said, placing his hand on her shoulders to hold her steady. One look at her told him all he needed to know. "Come on, let's get some air." Tansy followed him into the elevator. They rode up to the twelfth floor, where he led her by the hand up a flight of stairs to the roof. There was a small dome-shaped roof with a door to the outside. As they stepped into the cool, windy evening air, Tansy caught her breath at the view. They could see practically the whole city. The Capitol twinkled like a vast sea of stars. Electricity was limited in the Districts. Even in 4, it was turned off late in the evenings as part of the curfew. Often the evenings were spent in candlelight. The only time you could truly count on it was when they were airing the games or some important government message on television that was mandatory to watch. But here there would be no shortage. Ever.

She let go of Finnick's hand and walked to a railing at the edge of the roof. She looked straight down the side of the building to the street, which was buzzing with people. She could hear their cars, an occasional shout, and a strange metallic tinkling. Tansy had never been so high before. She wondered what it would be like to fall from there. She was surprised the door wasn't locked. Someone might be tempted to try it.

"You look like you're wondering why they let tributes up here," Finnick said, leaning against the railing beside her. "It's impossible to jump from here. There's an electric force field that throws you right back on the roof."

"Always worried about our safety," Tansy said. She leaned down and rested her chin on top of her hands. Even though Finnick had shown her the roof, she wondered if they were supposed to be up there, so late and alone. She had never seen tributes on the Training Center roof before. The wide streets were full of dancing people. She squinted to make out their tiny figures in more detail. "Are they in costumes?"

"Who can tell?" said Finnick. Tansy smiled slightly. That was true, with all the crazy clothes they wore here. "What's keeping you up?"

"Couldn't turn my mind off," she said.

"Thinking about Annie and your dad?" he asked.

"Yeah, but mostly all I can do is wonder about tomorrow. Which is pointless, since there's nothing I can do about it." It was dark on the roof but in the light from below she could see his face. He looked just as troubled as she felt. "What's keeping you up?"

"Mostly worrying about tomorrow," he answered honestly.

"Thanks for the vote of confidence," she deadpanned.

"You know what I mean," he said, ruffling her hair. "What's got you worried the most?"

Tansy took a moment to consider. More than the climate or the availability of trees, she wished she could think of a way to show the Capitol they didn't own her or her friends. That they were more than just a piece in their Games. But they weren't. That was how the Games worked. They were a public execution where the tributes were forced to do the Capitol's dirty work for them. "I don't know how to say it exactly," she said carefully. "Just… whatever happens, whether I live or die, I want to be able to say I did it as myself. I don't want to let them turn me into something I'm not."

Finnick looked at her, concerned. "Are you saying you won't kill anyone?" he asked.

"No, I'm sure I'll kill just like everyone else when the time comes. I won't go down without a fight. If someone tries to kill me, of course I'll have to fight back. But I'm not going to go out of way to kill. I won't put on a show for them," Tansy said grimly. She felt Finnick place a hand on her back.

"You're cold," he said gently. "Let's go back inside."

Then they turned and left the roof. Neither of them felt like going back to bed, so they ended up sitting on the couch together under a couple of soft, decorative throws. Finnick held her hand, and Tansy let her head rest against his shoulder.

She spent the rest of the night slipping in and out of a doze, plagued by nightmares of overlapping images from previous Hunger Games, featuring raging beast tributes, the kind who tried to eat someone's heart after they'd killed them. There was a guy like in last year's Games from District 6 called Titus. He went completely savage and the Gamemakers had to have him stunned with electric guns to collect the bodies of the players he had killed before he ate them. There were no rules in the arena, but cannibalism didn't play well with the Capitol audience, so they tried to head it off. There was some speculation that the avalanche that finally took Titus out was specifically engineered to ensure the victor was not a lunatic. Tansy was glad that she and Finnick had both fallen asleep on the couch, because seeing a familiar face when she stirred reminded her she was still safe. For now.

Tansy didn't see Finnick in the morning. She woke up alone, tucked into her own bed. Vita came to her before dawn, gave her a simple shift to wear, and guided her to the roof. Her final dressing and preparations would be done in the catacombs under the arena itself. A hovercraft appeared out of thin air, and a ladder dropped down. Tansy placed her hands and feet on the lower rungs and instantly it was as if she was frozen. Some sort of current glued her to the ladder while she was lifted inside.

She expected the ladder to release her then, but Tansy was still stuck when a woman in a white coat approached her carrying a syringe. "This is just your tracker, Tansy. The stiller you are, the more efficiently I can place it," she said.

Still? Tansy was a statue. But that didn't prevent her from feeling the sharp stab of pain as the needle inserted the metal tracking device deep under the skin on the inside of her forearm. Now the Gamemakers would always be able to trace her whereabouts in the arena. Wouldn't want to lose a tribute.

As soon as the tracker was in place, the ladder released Tansy. The woman disappeared and Vita was retrieved from the roof. A silent girl came in and directed them to a room where breakfast had been laid out. Despite the tension in her stomach, Tansy ate as much as she could, although none of the delectable food made any impression on her. She was so nervous, she could be eating sand. The only thing that distracted her at all was the view from the windows as they sailed over the city and then to the wilderness beyond. This was what birds saw. Only they were free and safe. The complete opposite of her.

The ride lasted about an hour before the windows blacked out, suggesting that they were nearing the arena. The hovercraft landed and Vita and Tansy went back to the ladder, only this time it leads down into a tube underground, into the catacombs that lay beneath the arena. They followed instructions to their destination, a chamber for Tansy's preparation. In the Capitol, they called it the Launch Room. In the districts, it's referred to as the Stockyard. The place animals went before slaughter.

Everything was brand-new, she would be the only tribute to use this Launch Room. The arenas were historic sites, preserved after the Games, Popular destinations for Capitol residents to visit, to vacation. Go for a month, rewatch the Games, tour the catacombs, visit the sites where the deaths took place. They could even take part in reenactments.

They said the food was excellent.

Tansy struggled to keep her breakfast down as she showered and cleaned her teeth. Vita tamed her curly hair into a halo of milkmaid braids to protect the ends and keep it out of her face while she was running. Then the clothes arrived, the same for every tribute. Vita had no say in her outfit, didn't even know what would be in the package, but she helped Tansy dress in the undergarments, a layer of long-sleeved shirt with a turtleneck and leggings made from thin, stretchy material, a seastorm blue long-sleeved V-neck shirt, water-resistant tawny pants, sturdy brown belt, and a medium-weight, hooded seastorm blue jacket that fell to her thighs. "Each item has been made using materials that are designed to reflect and conserve body heat. You're going somewhere very cold," Vita said.

The boots, worn over two layers of skintight socks, were better than Tansy could have hoped for. A sturdy, waterproof material to keep out snow. They had a narrow flexible rubber sole with treads. Good for both running and climbing.

Then Vita replaced her conch pearl choker around her neck for her. Vita had made a slight adjustment so it could hold the abalone pearl Annie gave her, too. It was going to be her district token. Tansy had been reluctant to let it out of her sight, but it had to be cleared by the review board before she could wear it into the arena. "There, you're all set. Move around. Make sure everything feels comfortable," Vita said.

Tansy walked, ran in a circle, swung her arms about. "Yes, it's fine. Fits perfectly."

"Then there's nothing to do but wait for the call," said Vita. "Unless you think you could eat some more?"

Tansy accepted a small plate of food and a glass of water that she took small bites and tiny sips from as they waited on a couch. She wasn't entirely sure whether it would stay down or not, but she needed all the calories she could get. Who knew when her next real meal would be?

She had to stop when nervousness seeped into terror as she anticipated what was to come. She could be dead, flat-out dead, in an hour. Not even. Her fingers obsessively traced the hard little lump on her forearm where the woman injected the tracking device. She pressed on it, even though it hurt, she pressed on it so hard a small bruise began to form.

"Do you want to talk, Tansy?" Vita asked.

Tansy shook her head. She felt like she would throw up if she opened her mouth again. But after a moment she held out her hand to Vita. Vita enclosed it in both of hers. And this was how they sat until a pleasant female voice announced it was time to prepare for launch.

Still clenching one of Vita's hands, Tansy walked over and stood on the circular metal plate. "Remember what Finnick and Mags said. Run, find water. The rest will follow," Vita said. Tansy nodded. "And remember to take care of yourself. We're all waiting for you to come back. I know you can do it."

"Really?" Tansy whispered.

"Really," said Vita. She gave Tansy a kiss on the cheek. "Good luck. See you later, Tansy."

"Wait! I want you to know I'm glad we met. Thank for coming back for me," Tansy said anxiously as the glass cylinder was lowering around her, breaking their handhold, cutting them off from each other. Tansy was worried that maybe Vita hadn't heard her, but the older woman smiled warmly at her. She tapped her fingers under her chin. Head high.

Tansy lifted her chin and stood as straight as she could. The cylinder began to rise. For maybe fifteen seconds, she was in darkness and then she could feel the metal plate pushing her out of the cylinder, into the open air. For a moment, her eyes were dazzled by the bright sunlight and she was conscious only of a strong, cold wind with the hopeful smell of pine trees.

Then she heard the legendary announcer, Claudius Templesmith, as his voice boomed all around her.

"Ladies and gentlemen, let the Seventieth Hunger Games begin!"