"42," Alec says, looking down at the paper balanced against his thighs. He's too big for the windowsill now after an early growth spurt put an extra few inches on him, but he braces his feet against the opposite side and sits with his legs bent at right angles.
Creed shoots him a look that says don't pity me, but he just stumbled through the 37th with four mistakes so he could use a break. "Okay fine," he says, pushing a hand up through his hair. "42. Arena: desert ruins. Special circumstances: no weapons. Victor: District 2, Nero." He closes his eyes, movement flickering behind his lids. "24th place: D8F, blunt force trauma. 23rd: D7M, blunt force trauma. 22nd : D3F, strangulation. 21st …"
The list goes on through the first week, more blunt force traumas dotted with occasional mutt attacks or dehydration deaths, and Alec shivers a little at how black and white it is, even scrawled in Creed's desperate handwriting. It's months and months still until Creed tests into Residential, but the exam involves memorizing the list of deaths up to the previous Games in any permutation the trainers feel like specifying.
Alec asked Dad why, when Creed came home with his copy of the list, over a thousand names and causes in cramped columns. "Many reasons," Dad said as Creed disappeared into his room to study. "It keeps us humble to remember the ones who came before us, for one; remembering the deaths keeps their sacrifice fresh and stops it from losing meaning. It also helps develop recall, which is important for a host of professions, not just tribute. Think of your mother, and what would happen if she had to look up a fact every time she taught her students, or Julia if she had to consult a book each time someone came in with a head wound."
It makes sense, but Alec isn't looking forward to his turn. He's glad for the extra practice helping Creed; Creed has studied for weeks but now he nearly falters in the middle, trying to recall whether the little girl from Eleven died from a poisoned snake bite or if that was the girl from Five and the boy from Ten found Eleven and bashed her skull in with a rock. He catches his stride again when the Pack breaks, as that's the easy part, and after that he makes it to the end without slipping. Alec checks his answers against the page and gives him a thumbs up.
Creed flops backwards on the floor, arms splayed out. He rubs a hand over his eyes, then thunks his skull against the ground. "Give me another. Not another straight year, how about patterns."
"All right." Alec shuffles the pages, frowning. "Drowning deaths in order." Creed grunts at him, shooting a one-eyed look of exasperation, and Alec amends, "Fine then, do it backwards."
"D1F, 50th," Creed says, straight off and confident. "Then — wait, is choking on blood drowning or asphyxiation? No don't tell me, I'll get it —"
The last few Games haven't had any deaths by drowning, and Dad says it wouldn't be surprising there was a water Arena in the next couple of years. Alec really hopes he's wrong; the Centre can teach them how to fight and use swords — Creed has been training on machetes and khukuri as his signature weapon, though he's too young to specialize for real just yet — but there's not much anyone can do if someone grabs their head and holds it underwater.
After Creed makes it through three different challenges without a stumble he calls a halt, digging the heels of his hands against his eyelids. "My brain hurts," he says. "I hate this part. I wish they could just watch me fight and that's it."
"If we were meant to question then they would be called 'suggestions', not 'rules'," Alec intones in Dad's best lecturing tone, and Creed snickers behind his hands. "You'll do fine, you're good at memorizing."
"I know, I know." Creed sighs. "I'm going crazy, let's go outside."
A bit of wrestling and tree-climbing cheers Creed up, even if he is almost thirteen and should be too old for everything. Creed shrugs when Alec says so, and he brackets the branch with his knees and hangs upside-down. "I'll have lots of time to be too old for stuff in Residential," he says, voice a little breathless from the blood rushing to his head. "I have to study and work hard now, but it's kind of my last chance to be a kid."
It sounds so dramatic when Creed puts it like that, but he's not wrong. The secrets about Residential don't pass the walls but the rumours do, and Alec has heard all of them. He's starting Transition now himself, moving from swinging swords around just for fun and games to actually learning how to use them against another person, and he's only eleven but even his group doesn't play dodgeball anymore.
In Residential the bracelets change. Alec sees them sometimes, the kids who go into town for an hour or two on leave, and they swagger down the street and flash their wrists at the counter and get free juice or ice cream or whatever they want. The beads glitter against the black strands, red and orange and once — with a group of older kids that Alec hid and watched, afraid he'd get in trouble even for looking at them — even silver.
The red beads are dark like fresh blood, and Alec has never worked up enough courage to ask Dad or Mom or even Uncle Paul what you have to do to get one, but he's seen their smiles, sharp and cocky and unafraid of anything. Whatever they do in Residential, it's probably not hide and seek or capture the flag.
"Let's go find Selene," Alec says. The words come out in a rush, and he jumps down from the tree and sets off for her house without waiting for Creed. There's a chill at his back and if he just walks fast enough he can outrun it.
"She's probably out in the woods again," Creed says, jogging to catch up, and Alec shoots him a confused look. Creed's tone is weird, like he's trying for amused but can't quite make it. "It's nothing, never mind."
Selene has gone out in the woods a lot lately, but that doesn't mean anything. Alec still loves the woods, all the soft sounds and the grass under his feet and the branches swishing their leaves overhead, though he can't see Selene going there for peace and quiet. Uncle Paul takes her hunting with his Peacekeeper friends sometimes, and they've invited Alec and he goes because Dad says it's important to toughen up but he doesn't like it. The animals didn't do anything wrong, and it's not like any of them actually need to hunt to eat.
Selene loves it, though, and Uncle Paul's friends love her. They grin and ruffle her hair and set up cans for her to shoot at — she's a good marksman, really good, Alec never sees her miss anymore — and they teach her how to assemble a proper rifle because she can do it in under a minute and they cheer when she gets it. They feel sorry for Alec because he flinches when the guns fire, and the first time he shot and killed a squirrel he actually cried and had to swallow and gulp down air until his lungs hurt and pretend like he twisted his ankle just so nobody would laugh.
Creed starts muttering under his breath, probably the death list again, and Alec shoves his hands in his pockets and doesn't interrupt. He wishes Creed didn't have to do this, cram his brain full of things like decapitation and asphyxiation and exsanguination, but it's important. Creed is going to be in the Hunger Games one day and he needs to know this, he can't shy away in fear when he needs to survive.
Alec liked it better when he didn't know what victory meant, but it makes sense and the world isn't only made up of things you like. The war was terrible, thousands and thousands of people dead, and the Games only take twenty-three lives every year. During the war the Rebels bombed the town where Alec's family lives now, where all the Peacekeepers and their families have always made their home in the comforting shadow of the mountain, and killed more people in one night than all the tributes in the Games put together.
It makes sense when Dad explains it, and when Alec listens to the speeches by the president every year, but it feels different watching it. Every year in the Reaping square they talked about fight to the death but Alec didn't think they meant it, not really. People say they're starving when they really mean it's been five hours since lunchtime. But then Alec sat between Mom and Dad on the couch and watched a girl bite out the throat of the boy pinning her down, and suddenly it wasn't just a figure of speech anymore.
The world keeps changing under Alec's feet, shifting every time he thinks he has his stance firm, but for now there's still him and Creed and Selene together, the three of them, and he'll hold that as long as he can.
They find Selene coming out of the clearing, and she jumps and her eyes do the guilty flicker even though there's nothing wrong with walking through the forest. "Hey," she says, a little too fast, too cheerful, and her eyes are bright and wide and a little bit crazy. "What are you guys doing?"
"Looking for you," Creed says. His gaze runs over her and his eyes narrow for a second, but whatever he sees Alec doesn't and Creed decides not to mention it, instead giving Selene a friendly punch in the shoulder. "I got tired of studying the list, wanted to do something else."
"The list is fun," Selene says, falling into step with them as they turn back. Alec looks back over his shoulder — there's something in the clearing, something he missed, something that Selene brought with her in the hard glint of her eyes and the privately amused twist to her mouth — but it's too late now. Selene's hands are in her pockets, something she usually only does when she's not happy, but now she's grinning and almost bouncing with her steps so who knows what's going on. "I'm going to have it memorized so good by the time it's my turn."
Selene has been studying along with Creed even though her test is over a year away. She says it's because of Petra, the girl she hates, because Petra is better at hand-to-hand and Selene needs something to rub in her face after getting her own slammed into the mats too many times. Maybe that's all it is — and it is at least in part, because even Mom and Dad have heard Selene complain about her classmate, who is not just that tiny bit better at brawling but also one whole month older — but Selene grins to herself sometimes, going through the list, and it makes Alec's spine itch.
"I wish you could just do the test for me," Creed says, jostling her. "You could borrow my clothes and put your hair under a hat, maybe no one would notice."
Selene laughs, a little too hard. "Wouldn't that be awesome! And then once I'm in it's too late for them to take it back, and I could go into Residential a whole year early."
"Hey, I didn't say the whole test!" Creed protests. "Just the list. I can do everything else just fine, thanks."
"Sure, sure," Selene says, patting him on the arm with easy condescension. "You're just mad because I don't have to count on my fingers to know that the one hundred and seventeenth death was a stabbing."
Creed exchanges a questioning look with Alec — she could be bluffing, Selene does that a lot — but Alec lifts his shoulders and lets them drop. Even if she is faking, Alec has absolutely no idea. He does the math in his head (twenty-three deaths per year means one hundred and fifteen deaths at the end of the 5th Games so that makes one hundred and seventeen the second death of the 6th) but by the time he gets there the moment has passed and Selene is secure in her triumph.
"You staying for supper?" Creed asks when they get close.
"Let me run home and change," Selene says easily. "I've got mud and stuff on me. I'll see you in a bit."
Alec watches her stroll off, hyper-casual, then turns back to Creed with a frown. "There wasn't that much mud. And anyway when does Selene care about getting dirt on her clothes?" They've all been scuffling and pushing each other into puddles since they were old enough to walk, so much so that their parents taught them how to do their own laundry if they were going to come home looking like they'd rolled all the way down the mountain. Selene used to skip washing up when she was really little, except she always got caught and it was embarrassing to have Aunt Julia or Mom stand behind her at the sink to make sure she used soap properly.
"Just leave it," Creed says, firm enough to make Dad proud, and now Alec turns to blink at him, too. "Look, it's fine, it's not a big deal, let's just find something to do for a while, okay?"
"Okay!" Alec snaps, and he stomps off to the shed to find their ball. They're getting too old for most games but it's still fun to chuck the ball at each other, and now they play it so that when it hits a limb that limb is dead and they keep playing until only one person is still in the game.
When Selene comes back Alec's bad mood is simmering enough that he throws the ball right at her head, hard enough that if it landed it would bruise and swell up. She catches it one-handed, and Alec shouts, "Right arm out!" with a vindictive glee that still sits a little strange in his gut but has gotten easier after so long at the Centre.
Selene raises her eyebrows and tosses the ball to her left hand, pinning her right behind her back. "Alec Seward, did you just cheat?" she asks, dancing back and feinting a throw.
"Shut up and play," Alec says, glaring, and Selene grins, then whips around and takes Creed out at the knee.
Alec's anger leaches away as they play — it's impossible not to, watching Selene hop around on one foot and Creed hobble on his knees while Alec still has all four limbs because the two of them had a grudge match first — and in the end he doesn't forget about Selene and Creed and their shared secret about the clearing, but it doesn't matter. They're here and having fun and that's all that matters, and Alec nails Creed in the head with the ball and does a one-armed dance while his brother groans and flops backward in defeat.
Selene has one leg left and neither of her arms, and Alec grins at her. "You giving up?" he taunts.
Alec isn't stupid. He's known Selene since they were babies, and anyone who's met her for more than an hour knows what happens when she's challenged. But Alec expected her to run a suicide charge, maybe head-butt him in the stomach and take him down, but instead she turns her head at the last second and takes a chomp out of his shoulder.
"Ow!" He shrieks and pinwheels backward, tugging aside his shirt. There are pinprick holes in the fabric, and she didn't break the skin but it's close, a ragged pink line along his skin. "Seriously?" Selene only cackles louder, and Alec flings up his hands. "I thought you weren't doing that anymore!"
For months after Enobaria's win, Alec could hardly go a day without Selene trying to bite him. She didn't go after his throat because Uncle Paul gave her a good hard warning scold, but that didn't save Alec's arms or shoulder from looking like he'd brought home a wild puppy.
Selene only grins, cheeky and innocent even though Alec is about five years too old to believe that, and snaps her teeth at him. Alec abandons the ball and tackles her to the ground — Creed wriggles over, still not using his limbs, and flops on top of both of them like a giant, heavy caterpillar — and when Mom comes out to check the commotion they're all laughing until they're breathless.
"Come inside, you crazies," Mom says, though all Alec can see of her is his feet because Creed's legs are pushing his face into the grass. "Get your giggles out before you set the table, because I'm not having anyone breaking any plates."
"Yes Aunt Dora," Selene sing-songs like she didn't just lick Alec's neck to try to get him to gross out and move, and Alec bursts out laughing all over again.
One good thing about the Program is that there's so much to do and remember that it doesn't leave much time to think about anything else. Selene and the clearing and the strange light in her eyes sticks in Alec's head overnight and all through school the next day, but once he gets to the Centre there's no room. It's swords day, and Alec and the others in his year pair off with blunted weapons and try to follow the trainers' instructions on how to swing properly.
"Don't aim for your opponent's weapon," shouts the trainer at the room, hands on her hips and using the same voice as Alec's teacher when she says 'if I've told you once I've told you a thousand times' at kids playing too rough on the swings. "You're not playing patty-cake with swords, you're trying to win a fight! The next one of you who aims for the blade is going to run laps until you fall down, understand?"
"Yes sir," Alec choruses with the rest of them, and he turns back to Payton and sweeps his blade low on his next lunge. Payton parries just in time, but Alec ducks under the blow and slashes forward, catching him across the ribs. Alec grins and Payton's face purples, but he only steps back and readies his sword again.
Alec lets everything else fall away, though he keeps a bit of his attention open for any tips from the trainers. Payton is mad and it's colouring his fight, just like used to happen with Creed when Alec was little and before he learned to control himself. It makes Payton easier to read; the trainers tell them to look to the shoulder, not the arm, when guessing an opponent's next move, but Alec doesn't even have to. Payton practically screams everything he's about to do before he does it.
Sure enough Payton attacks again in a full-out charge, and Alec barely has to try to overbalance him, get under his guard and stop with the practice blade against his neck. By this point Payton's teeth must be aching in his head with how hard he's clenching them, but Alec doesn't care. If he doesn't want to lose then he should stop losing, that's what Dad always said whenever Alec complained about Creed being a sore winner.
Alec catches Payton in another finishing move, but this time the trainer yells "Freeze!" and they do. Payton's arm is wide, his sword nowhere near Alec's side, and Alec has his under Payton's chin, forcing his head up. The trainer jogs over, and Alec doesn't move but he feels the attention of the room turn toward them.
"That's good, Alec," she says, and Alec doesn't smile or react or anything but the tips of his ears do tingle a little. Nothing he can do about that, though, and the trainer doesn't say anything if she noticed. "Good form, nice economy on that last strike. See, kids, you don't have to wave your sword around like you're swatting flies with it. Too bad you're dead, though."
"Sir?" Alec bursts out without thinking, but he doesn't move. The funny part is that Payton tries to look smug and pleased but it's clear he has no idea either, and they exchange a confused look. Payton's sword arm is beginning to tremble but he holds it, eyebrows pushing together in determination.
"Payton, left hand," the trainer says, and Payton blinks at her but raises it. He'd let go of the sword and swung it right-handed to get a lower arc, leaving his left one free. The trainer steps over, takes his hand and jabs the knuckles right between Alec's ribs. "If he had a knife, you'd be well on your way to bleeding out right now."
Alec presses his lips together against the automatic protest, but the trainer raises an eyebrow. "Something to say?" she asks, and it's not really a question.
"But he didn't," Alec says. He wouldn't talk back but she did ask, and that doesn't mean he won't be punished for his answer anyway but here's hoping.
"But he could have," the trainer says, and oh. Alec thinks of Selene finally mastering the trick of slipping a blade up her sleeve and trapping it against her wrist, and he looks down at Payton's hand and imagines a knife poking out between his fingers. "You're right, this was a one-weapon fight, and you won that. But we're not teaching you kids how to win practice fights, are we? You need to watch your guard all the time, never leave yourself open. Why?"
She looks at Alec expectantly, but this one at least is easy. "Because I have to block every single time, but he only has to hit me once."
Payton's expression has gone calculating, and the next time they fight Alec will have to watch it. The other boy might not be as good but he knows how to cheat, and the Centre rules about cheating are pretty much that there's no such thing. The Gamemakers won't listen if they cry 'time out' in the middle of the Arena, after all.
"That's right," the trainer says. "All right boys, at ease. Take five, then come back and we'll try again."
Alec sets his sword carefully aside before flopping back on the mat, ignoring the sting of rubber and sweat inside his nose making his eyes water. "Nice one," he tells Payton, grinning. "You beat me so good you didn't even know it."
"Shut up, Seward," Payton snorts, dropping down cross-legged and combing fingers through his hair to flick away sweat. "I'm going to break your nose next time."
Not likely. The funny thing about losing to Creed since they were toddlers is that fighting kids his own age and his own size is a lot easier. Alec doesn't even bother to push himself up onto his elbows, just waves a hand like he's shooing away flies. "If you can break my nose, you deserve it," he says.
Kevin, the smallest and fastest boy in their year, nudges Alec with his foot. "You're gonna have to step it up if you want to keep winning, though. I heard the trainers talking."
This time Alec does sit up. "What?" he demands, staring Kevin down, but he doesn't back down or start giggling like he usually does when he's lying. "What did they say?"
"You always stop," Kevin says with a shrug. "You never let any hits land. You do the thing where you stop right before so they know you won but you don't finish it. You can't do that forever."
"We're not supposed to finish it, we're practicing technique," Alec says, but last week Grant smashed Chess right across the face instead of pulling back, and he got a warning for excessive force but they gave him a cookie right after.
"Yeah, and what are you going to do when we're not just practicing technique anymore?" Kevin asks. "We're in Transition. They're gonna stop telling us to pull our punches soon. And what about the Arena? What about when you have to stick your sword through another tribute and not just a training dummy?"
"You don't stick your sword through a person," Alec snaps. "Remember? Too much chance of hitting bone and your blade getting stuck, the trainers said so. Slash across the belly, works faster and better."
Kevin rolls his eyes. "Right, okay, because you can't punch somebody but you could totally slash them with a sword. All I'm saying is you're going to get cut if you don't fight harder."
It makes sense, is the worst part. They're not here to kill each other in training or anything, and they get in trouble if they keep going after a trainer calls time, but Selene has been coming home with occasional black eyes and broken noses and cracked knuckles for a while now. She blames Petra for starting it and always says the other girl looks worse than she does, but either way she sure isn't holding back.
Rumours about Residential are just that, but whispers trickle down. Alec has heard that the trainers don't always call a match at first blood, that sometimes the trainees fight until one of them passes out if they're not good enough to end it first. Alec has never had to go to medical but some of the others have, and one time Kevin said he saw a boy there getting his jaw reattached.
But the others are looking at him, and Alec might turn pale at the thought of attacking someone full out but he's not stupid enough to say it. "I can do whatever they tell me to do," he says, raising his head and giving them Dad's best cool stare. "Holding back doesn't mean I can't, it just means I'm not."
Their break ends soon after that, and Alec and Payton pair off again. Payton has his eyes narrowed from the start, and for once he doesn't rush in straight off but takes his time. He's looking for openings, a hole in Alec's guard so he can use what the trainer showed him, and this time he's barehanded but Alec would bet his dessert that next time he'll have stolen a knife from somewhere.
Alec's stomach flutters with nerves all the way up to his throat, but there's only one thing to do. If he doesn't want something to happen then he has to stop it from happening, and asking nicely isn't going to cut it, not this time. And so this time Alec charges first — Payton's caught off-guard, stumbling back and nearly turning his ankle but catching himself a second later — and Alec presses in close.
The fight is close, too close to do anything fancy with their swords, and soon Payton throws his arm off to block a blow. Except instead of stopping and moving for the next strike Alec keeps going, pushing their blades back and around to the side. Payton winces as his shoulder protests the angle but he's too mad to back down now, and Alec feels the resistance all the way down their locked blades and through his forearms. He takes one step in closer, and pushes again.
Payton's shoulder dislocates with a popping sound that feels way less dramatic than it should. He howls and loses his grip on the practice sword, and Alec twists and jerks his elbow up, catching him right in the jaw and snapping his teeth together before stepping back.
"Excessive force, Alec," the trainer calls and Alec drops his weapon, holding up his hands as Payton collapses, blood reddening the inside of his mouth where he bit his tongue. The trainer kneels and helps Payton to his feet, one arm around his waist. "All right, boys, back to drills," she says. "Alec, laps."
Alec nods and jogs out of the weapons room toward the track, but he takes a detour first. There's no one watching and so he ducks into the bathroom, where he grips the counter and leans over the sink, heaving in gasps of air. The urge to throw up has him shaking, and it presses up inside his throat and underneath his chin but he holds it, keeps swallowing the bile and forcing the muscles in his stomach to unclench.
Finally the wave passes. Alec splashes cold water on his face, scrubs his hands until they're pink and leaves without looking at himself in the mirror.
The trainers call him back after five laps, but Payton isn't back yet when Alec returns to the weapons room. "Geez, Seward," Kevin mutters as he passes. "Take it easy, we were just teasing."
"Maybe don't, then," Alec snaps, and Kevin backs off.
They give him a brownie when drills finish, and it tastes like dirt but that's not the point, and Alec makes sure to finish it and lick the crumbs off his fingers before heading out to find Selene for the walk home.
"Was that your first excessive force?" Selene asks, grinning, and she punches him in the arm. "Good for you! I mean, it's totally late, but whatever, it still counts."
"Thanks," Alec says dryly. The brownie sits in his stomach like a rock but he has to get used to telling the story while sounding enthusiastic before telling Dad, and Creed and the other almost-thirteens have another two hours at the Centre still so he can't practice with him. "It felt weird. I just knew he was going to come after me so I wanted to end it first."
"It sounds like he deserved it either way, what a jerk." Selene waves a hand at him. "Never mind jerks, they deserve what they get."
Alec glances at her, notes the faint bruise on her cheekbone. "And what did Petra deserve today?"
"Huh? Oh." Selene pokes the bruise and shakes her head. "Nah, that wasn't her, that was somebody else. Petra doesn't go for the cheek because it's a cheap shot and she's too good for that, or something. One day I'll get her to do it, though, and then I win."
Alec and Selene were never exactly kindred spirits, but lately it feels more and more like she's becoming a completely different person that Alec will never understand. "So you'll be the one with the cheek fracture, but that means you win?"
Selene rolls her eyes at him. "Yes," she says in the voice that means he's an idiot and she's very mature for explaining this to him, again. "Because I made her break one of her rules. Shut up, it makes sense if you're not a goody-goody."
"I dislocated another kid's shoulder and made him bite through his tongue today," Alec shoots back, and it doesn't feel quite so weird to say this time so maybe it's working. "I don't think I'm that goody-goody."
"Do it again and we'll see," Selene says, but then her expression goes thoughtful. "Actually, hm, no, come with me instead."
Alec follows her when she takes the first path into the woods, and his heart hammers like the day the trainers first wheeled out the weapons racks. The woods have always been Alec's place; the trees and the sunlight and the birds, the way the earth smells and the leaves shift in the breeze calm him down when the worst of the nerves and fear and crush of being not good enough make it hard to breathe. Selene likes the woods too, but because it gives her a space to run around and break things and make up elaborate stories that aren't possible in the garden. Whatever she's taking him to see, Alec is pretty sure it's not going to be a bird's nest.
"You'll have to be quiet," Selene tells Alec as they pick their way through the path, avoiding fallen branches. Alec shoots her a look — of the two of them he is hardly the one to need that reminder, unless they're playing Arena and Selene is pretending to stalk her prey — but Selene only stares back, hard and challenging. He holds up his hands and Selene nods and jerks her head, motioning him further. "I think they're starting to recognize me so it's getting harder, but it should be fine. Just stay still when I tell you to."
Finally they come out into the clearing. The underbrush is soft but scattered, bare patches where leaves have been kicked away, and Alec stands in the centre and looks up at the expanse of sky between the trees. The birds chitter in the trees, and squirrels scamper through the branches. "Okay," Selene says in a low voice. "Don't move until I tell you, okay, this will just take a minute."
Alec holds still, but a flash of light catches his eye and he turns his head just in time to see Selene pull a knife from her sleeve. "Wh—" he starts to say, but she pulls her arm back and lets the weapon fly.
The squirrel it hits lets out a frantic squeak and falls to the ground. "Ha!" Selene says, clapping her hands together, and she dashes forward and yanks the knife free.
It's a full five seconds before Alec finds his voice, choked as it is by horror. Selene crouches down beside the squirrel, poking at it with an experimental deliberateness. "What are you doing?" Alec asks. His mouth has turned to sandpaper, and he can't stop thinking about the brownie that's now trying to crawl out of his stomach. "What — why?"
Selene tosses him a haughty look over her shoulder. "Don't you know what you have to do to get into Residential?" she scoffs.
Alec wipes his hands against his shirt. "There's a sparring match and a weapons test and a time trial, and you have to get the list right…"
He trails off when Selene rolls her eyes. The thing is, Alec isn't stupid, and Selene isn't really asking him to guess, not with the squirrel lying on the ground with its sides heaving and Selene eyeing it with her head cocked. She picks up the knife, and Alec turns away just in time to avoid whatever makes the squirrel let loose a flurry of squeaking. "Selene —" he chokes out.
"I've seen the room where they keep them," Selene says meditatively. It's the most relaxed Alec has heard her in months. "One of the older girls showed me. They keep the door locked most of the time so I didn't get to see inside, though."
"Maybe she was lying," Alec says, feeling like the time he followed Creed jumping into the lake and the cold water knocked the air out of him. "Trying to impress you or something."
"That's why I asked Creed." Selene's smile curls around her tone. "He said not to tell you. He said you wouldn't like it."
"Does Creed practice with you?" The thought of Creed out her in the woods, kneeling in the fallen leaves with a stolen knife in his hands and a thrashing squirrel in front of him, brings a sour taste to Alec's mouth.
Selene snorts. "No, he said it's cheating to do it early. Hunting with Dad is different, I guess. Now are you going to come over here or not?"
The squirrel squeaks, and it hits Alec that this isn't going to be over until he does. One time while hunting Selene missed and hit the leg instead, and she'd disappeared into the bushes after it for a full minute before Uncle Paul sent Alec to ask what was taking so long. He found her watching the animal cry and whimper and drag itself over the grass, though when she heard Alec coming she finished it off with a headshot and brought the carcass back.
Back then Alec figured it was curiosity, like the time he'd tripped in the woods and sliced his knee on a tree root and sat there staring at the blood oozing out of the cut. Now — well, it's what the Centre wants them to do, even if she's got a head start on it. If he asked Dad about it, Dad might not tell him to cheat but he sure wouldn't be proud of Alec for backing away.
"Okay," Alec says, and he drags himself over, every step like slogging through ankle-deep mud.
"Here," Selene says, moving over to give him room. The squirrel's eyes have gone wide and glassy, one paw twitching at its side. Blood mats the fur, dripping down onto the leaves below, and Alec's stomach heaves but he's used to that and nothing comes up. Selene goes to hand him the knife, then changes her mind and flips it over in her hand instead. "Let me show you a trick," she says eagerly, the way she used to about making paper helicopters or blowing bubbles in milk.
"No, stop!" Alec explodes a little way through the demonstration. He can't figure out whether to cover his eyes or his ears or run away, and instead he freezes and tries to tune out the sounds by imagining a roaring sound filling his ears instead. "No, it's fine, just give me the knife!"
Selene frowns but hands it over, and Alec's hands shake but he's cleaned animals before and it's not that different. Not that different at all, he tells himself over and over and moves the knife in one swift stroke. The squirrel jerks, then lets out one last breath and stills, its heart slowing underneath his fingers. Alec hands the knife back to Selene and wets his lips.
"Ugh," Selene mutters, picking up a handful of leaves and wiping down the blade. "Trust you to take the fun out of it."
"Maybe next time," Alec says dully. He wipes a hand across his forehead, not surprised when it comes back damp. "Are you coming back home?"
"Nah," Selene says. She tips herself back onto her heels, looking up at the trees. "I think I'm gonna go again." She glances at him, eyes going narrow. "You're not going to tell on me, are you?"
And say what? That she was getting ahead of the Centre, again, and would probably pass her exam at the top of her class? That Alec had freaked out like a baby over a squirrel when he'd sent another boy to medical earlier that day? Uncle Paul made it halfway through Residential, the same as Dad and Mom. Aunt Julia probably had to cut up animals when learning to be a doctor. The only one weak enough to cry over a squirrel's terrified squealing is Alec, and the last thing he needs right now is for Dad to find out.
"No," Alec says, and Selene gives him a suspicious once-over before nodding. "I'll see you tomorrow."
"Wash your hands," Selene reminds him. "Mom almost caught me one time."
Alec looks down at his blood-stained fingers and his stomach rolls all over again. "Thanks," he says, and all but flees the clearing at top speed.
He stops outside the house to rinse his hands with the garden hose, scrubbing his palms together until the water runs clear. Dad won't be home from work for another couple of hours but Mom is in the kitchen chopping things up for supper. Normally Alec stops to help her but today he heads straight upstairs, flinging himself onto his bed and burying his face in the pillow.
If the universe were fair then Alec would at least have until supper to calm down and think about how to frame what happened at the Centre today in a way that will make Dad proud, but because everything is horrible he only has a few minutes before Mom comes upstairs after him. "Alec?" she calls, knocking on the door frame. "Do you want to talk?"
"No," Alec says, not sitting up. Blood pounds in his ears and it's hard to breathe with his face mashed flat but if he looks up then it's over.
The mattress creaks and dips as Mom sits next to him. "Alec, you can tell me. I'm not going to be mad."
Wait, what? This time Alec does sit up. "Mad?" he asks. "Why would you be mad?"
"I'm not," Mom says, but then she shakes her head. "You tracked in leaves and mud, your sleeves and pants are soaking wet and there's dried blood stuck to your forehead. You want to tell me what happened?"
"Oh." Alec touches his forehead and feels blood crumble away under his fingertips. So much for stealth. "I — was practicing. I know I'm not supposed to, I just thought it would be a good idea. I want to be ready."
"And?"
Alec looks at Mom, who worked as a Peacekeeper for twenty years and has never, as long as Alec can remember, flinched at anything. The time a bird smashed into the window and blood smeared all over the windowpane she was the one who broke its neck to end its suffering. She buried the bird in the yard and cleaned up the blood and feathers and told Creed to take Alec outside for a run until he calmed down. Alec tries to picture her crying over dead squirrels as a little girl and comes up blank.
"I don't know," he says finally. Not knowing things is bad, but Dad always says it's better to admit ignorance than vomit out stupidity. "I don't think I would've got a very good mark."
Mom laughs, and they don't hug in their family but she does wet her thumb and start scrubbing the blood from Alec's forehead. "I practiced too," she says. "Of course, then I got so obsessed with acting like I hadn't practiced when the actual test came that I almost failed. Not my finest moment."
Alec laughs in spite of himself, in spite of Payton bleeding on the mats and the squirrel's body slowly cooling on the forest floor. "I bet you did great."
"I'm sure I entertained them, if nothing else." Mom pushes Alec's hair back from his forehead, and Alec has to stop himself from leaning into the touch. "It will get easier, like anything."
It had better, but Alec knows more than to say that out loud. "It's okay if I do it fast, right?" he asks. A risky question, maybe, but he has to know.
"It's up to you how you do it, and I don't know how they grade," Mom says, giving him a mild warning look. "But I've never heard of anyone failing because they finished too quickly."
Better than nothing, at least. Alec nods. "Okay," he says. "Thanks, Mom."
"Any time." She chucks him under the chin, then stands. "If you get your homework done before dinner then you can have tonight free, just this once."
"Thanks, Mom," Alec says again, startled, and Mom smiles and taps her finger to her lips.
Creed passes the Centre's entrance exam in the highest score bracket, and he comes home with the piece of paper to prove it. Dad claps him on the shoulder and Mom gives him a rare hug; Selene snatches the paper out of his hands and all but devours it with her eyes, reading over every word and searching for clues that might help her with her own test, but of course the paper doesn't give any details about what happened.
He has one week to settle things at school and say goodbye to family and friends who aren't coming with him. Dad and Mom host Creed's dedication party at the end of that week, the night before he leaves for Residential with nothing more than what he can fit in the small cardboard box the Centre provided him. "We're not celebrating you leaving," Dad says to Creed, laying both hands on his shoulders. "We're celebrating you becoming part of something bigger."
The party feels a lot like Creed's seventh, lots of Dad's friends and not too many of Creed's. Most of Dad's friends have kids in Residential or nearly themselves, and most of Creed's are either there already or they're studying for their own tests and can't take a night off every time one of them passes. Except this time there's less cheering and speeches and more quiet congratulations, and Alec still finds himself alone and ignored but can't dredge up the jealousy, not this time.
Selene, on the other hand…
"I wish I was going," she says, watching Creed shake hands with Dad's boss down at Eagle Pass.
"Soon," Alec reassures her, and Selene makes a dissatisfied sound and heads into the kitchen to refill her glass.
She and Alec don't hang out much anymore; Alec stopped coming with her to the clearing after practicing enough that his hands no longer tremble even when he has to do it bare-handed, and Selene stopped having an interest in much of anything else. He doesn't go to her house much anymore either, even though Aunt Julia is still his favourite grownup, because it feels like someone took a giant paintbrush and washed everything over with the dingy leftover water. The closer Selene gets to her thirteenth birthday the quieter Uncle Paul and Aunt Julia get, and the more worried looks they exchange when she's not looking. Everything at the Valents' feels dimmer, duller, except for Selene, who keeps getting sharper and angrier and shines bright like a sword glinting in the sunlight.
Sometimes Alec looks at Selene and Creed and has to squint, like they're far ahead in the distance, silhouetted against the sun, and he's stumbling along miles back in the shadow of the mountain. One day they'll be off doing great things and he'll be the one back home telling people he used to know them in the hopes that someone will be impressed.
Alec slips out and climbs up onto the roof like he used to do as a kid, but the funny thing is that he's out there for maybe five minutes before Creed hauls himself over the side and joins him. "Hey," Creed says, settling beside Alec and leaning back on his hands. "Missed you in there. It's not a party without my brother."
Before Alec can answer there's another scuffle below, and Selene scrambles up to sit on Creed's far side. "Oh sure, leave me in there with all the boring grownups," she says, shooting them both a pointed glare. "I see how it is."
Creed laughs and slings an arm around her shoulders, then another around Alec before Selene can protest the special treatment and try to bite him. "Soon it will be your party and then you'll be the centre of attention, don't you worry," he says.
"Nah," Selene says in a carefully modulated tone, and Alec glances at her over Creed's shoulder. "No party for me, they don't want me to go. Not that they're going to stop me."
"No one can stop you from doing anything," Creed says, nudging her, and Selene laughs and relaxes against his side, just a little. "Fine, no party, then, but you'll be taking your own exam before you know it."
Selene sighs and tilts her head back, and Alec follows to stare up at the smattering of stars across the indigo sky. "I wish," she mutters. "It feels like forever, and it's going to suck without you here."
"Hey," Alec protests, but more out of habit or the need to keep face than anything. Selene hasn't confided in him seriously in months now, closer to a year.
"You know what I mean," Selene says, though she at least has the grace to look a little embarrassed. "And — this is it, isn't it? By the time we're all in Residential together we'll be in different streams and we won't get to hang out, not like here."
Creed sighs and leans his head against Selene's. Normally she'd make a face and pull away, maybe jab him in the ribs first, but today she makes an unhappy sound and moves a little closer. Alec has watched her slice a squirrel across the belly, been there at recess when a classmate called her crazy and she shattered his jaw, and she'd scared him then but this is different, almost worse. Selene covered in blood and grinning, Alec can handle. Selene sad and vulnerable feels like the whole world just flipped inside-out.
Alec's brother is leaving and his friend is becoming someone else and Alec scrambles to get a firm hold on something, anything. "But it won't be that bad," he says. "We might not train together but we'll have free time, right? They can't make everyone train all the time. We can find each other then and it'll be just the same."
The words taste stale even as he says them but it's all they've got. Anything to chase the shadow from Creed's face and make Selene's mouth stop turning down at the corners. Creed glances over at Alec, and for a second he wears that small, sad smile he does when Alec says something that's very little brother and means he's too young to understand, but then it disappears.
"Yeah," Creed says, pulling Alec in closer against his side, and he pokes Selene in the ribs to make her squawk. "We'll still see each other. And then I'll win and Selene you'll win and we'll be back to back Victors just like Nero and Callista in the 40s, and Alec you'll be the best Peacekeeper ever and you can come see us in the Village and have a guest room in both our houses so you always have a place to stay when you're on leave."
In the last Hunger Games, the girl from Ten paired up with her district partner, a boy barely old enough for the Reaping, and every night after the Anthem played she would tell him a story. When the food ran low she told him a tale about escaping the Arena together, just the two of them, and after he fell asleep she picked up the big butcher's knife she kept in her bag and she killed him right there. She died anyway a few days later, at the hands of the girl from One, but her stories and the way she took care of her district partner stayed on the commentary for almost a week after.
It sticks with Alec now, the girl spinning up a bunch of pretty lies because the truth hurts worse, but for the boy they were never anything but real. He fell asleep dreaming of freedom and now he's free, and the rest is details. Alec isn't stupid; Creed is older and quieter and more and more serious already, always taking a few seconds before remembering to laugh at jokes that used to crack him up, and Selene has blood under her fingernails even when her hands are clean. Meanwhile Alec just keeps walking forward into the dark, hoping he doesn't trip on the path he can't see that Dad promises will keep him safe.
Things are changing, and after tomorrow they won't ever be the same. Alec isn't stupid, and neither is Creed, or Selene, but they've known each other forever and that doesn't just go away.
"When I win I'm going to put an ice cream machine in every room of my house," Selene says. "And every year on my birthday I'll set off fireworks over town that spell out 'SUCK IT PETRA'." She lets out a wistful sigh. "It'll be the best thing ever."
Creed catches Alec's gaze and rolls his eyes, familiar and amused just like they used to before Selene and Creed started having more things to be secretive and chummy about together, and Alec turns his laugh into a cough.
"Look out, Panem," Creed says, raising his voice. He touches his fist to his chest in the traditional gesture, then outstretches his arm toward the distant mountains. "We're going to rule the world."
NOTE: If you want to stop before the end and pretend everything's okay, this is the place to do it. I won't blame you. Otherwise, read on.