Once on the train, I'm shown to a car where Raff is already waiting in a smart leather chair. Next to him is an identical empty one, which I lower myself into.
"Some day, huh?" he murmurs. For a moment, I contemplate not answering him – after all we are opponents in a death match – but then I realise if I am friendly with him, he may avoid trying to kill me. I nod.
"The Capitol have never been exactly friendly, but I'd never have thought they could come up with something as sadistic as this?"
Before he has a chance to answer the door swings open, revealing a large Capitol man, with tanned skin. Surprisingly, the only thing that gives him away as a Capitol citizen are some silver zigzags on his left cheek. He gives us a half-smile.
"I realise right now that someone from the Capitol is probably the last person you want to see, given the present circumstances, but I am someone you have to trust. My name is Marcus, and I'll be your mentor for the Games. I'll be teaching you how to survive and I'll be getting you sponsors, who can send you gifts, such as better weapons, and food. If all goes well, and one of you survives, then that person will be replacing me as mentor next year."
There's a silence before Raff speaks up.
"You're from the Capitol. What do you know about survival?"
Marcus hesitated before he spoke again. "I fought on the Capitol side in the rebellion, but it wasn't so glamorous for me. I was sent to live in the woods for the best part of a year to spy. There I learnt about making food and how to fight. I can guess that your parents were part of the rebellion, so you probably don't want to trust me, and if you don't want to then fine. But on your head be it."
I ponder these last words. If he fought on the Capitol's side, that meant he was our enemy. But over the next few weeks, he'll be keeping us alive. I give him a single nod. Raff however folds his arms in a defiant gesture. I expect Marcus to say something to him, but he just stands up and says "time for dinner," before walking out the carriage. I think of saying something to Raff to make him change his mind, but one look at his expression changes my mind, so I follow Marcus into the meal carriage.
Sylvie and Marcus are waiting for me, sat at a polished oak table. I plonk myself in one of the equally polished chairs and tell them that Raff is going to be a while. As if on cue, Capitol attendees appear out of nowhere, bearing plates with domed lids on them. One is carefully placed in front of me. Suspiciously, I take off the lid. On the plate is a pinkish meat with lettuce and egg.
"Err… what is it?"
Marcus smiled while Sylvie sighed. "It's lobster meat, Parry. Surely you must have had lobster?"
I ignore that comment, and tentatively take a bite. I know it isn't good manners to nibble your food, but given I'm facing certain death; I feel I have an excuse to ignore table manners for a while. I chew it slowly. It tastes surprisingly good, and the salad is gone within a couple of minutes. Almost immediately, another plate is placed in front of me. I lift the lid of expecting another fancy Capitol dish, but I am pleasantly surprised. I recognise this one; venison stew with broccoli on the side. Before he died, my father taught me how to handle a spear and a knife, so I sometimes go hunting in the woods, even though we weren't supposed to. On the one occasion I caught a deer, it fed my family for a week. It was absolutely delicious.
When I'm about halfway through the dish, Raff finally walks in. He glares at Marcus, and sits down. He eats his meal in a sullen silence.
When I finish the venison stew, I'm almost sad. I probably won't get a chance to eat such a delicacy again, even if I do make it out of this hell alive. Pudding seems to be a strange, creamy-white cuboid with a red sauce on top. No way am I touching this without knowing what it is. I glance at Marcus for help, but it's Sylvie who answers.
"It's a vanilla panna-cotta, with a strawberry coulis. Honestly. First lobster, now panna-cotta. Do you even eat in District 12. It's a wonder you aren't savages."
I purse my lips and look at Raff, who's working hard to suppress a smile. It will be a wonder if I make it through the next few weeks without cracking Sylvie round the head.