In Council
Disclaimer: I still do not own the Hunger Games. Just a reminder to vote in my top 8 poll. It'll be up until the start of next chapter.
Echo Banner – District Two Female.
"A toast," Excelcia proposed, filling each of the Mentors' glasses with wine. "To the fallen." The smile on the first Victor's face despite the carnage might have sent a shiver down the spines of most of the other Mentors, but not Echo. Both she and Excelcia knew each death was simply a means to an end.
Most of the Mentors raised their glasses, with a couple of notable exceptions. Aeden lifted his only after Esthelrir elbowed him, giving him a stern look. Even the newcomer, Aphrodite, raised her glass. Ava left hers flat on the table, refusing to partake.
They toasted the fallen, most looking far more solemn than Excelcia did. Echo found that, much like Excelcia, she had cause to rejoice and no grounds at all for solemnity. Both Nero and Dane had made it through the bloodbath. Echo shouldn't have been surprised, after all, District Two had an impeccable record of being strong competitors. This year seemed to be no exception. Dane had already garnished a kill. That would surely prove to the other Careers that she wasn't the weak link in their group. She was an asset, despite the way the Capitol had tried to demonstrate to the contrary, tarnishing her image with accusations of rebellion.
Now she and Nero just had to build that reputation. She smiled as she watched them, taking their time, a luxury they had now that they had secured control of the Cornucopia.
"I suppose I'll see you all next year," Ava mumbled, bidding them farewell. Echo should have known she wouldn't stay after the death of both District 6's tributes, but she would miss her. Haspereek embraced the other mentor, her eyes filled with empathy.
"I'm sorry," she whispered, truthfully. Ava simply refused to look her in the eye.
"Joran," Ava summoned.
"I'm staying. If I have to watch this I want to be somewhere I feel as though I can do something."
"Joran, you can't do anything, especially not for ours," Ava argued. Joran just shrugged, rebelliously. "Fine. Stay then." She turned tail and left the lounge, Echo wasn't sure where she would be going; she'd still have to wait for the train to return to District 6, along with Joran and the corpses of their two victims. And Echo couldn't imagine anywhere else in the Capitol being more comforting than this.
Killian Odell – District One
"Hope no one is afraid of heights," Killian laughed, dangling his leg over the edge off the cliff. The ground seemed small below, like the other tributes were in comparison to the five of them. Now that the bloodbath had died down they had time to survey the arena, to really take in the sights from this great vantage point.
The city to the North seemed appealing, but took a distant second place to the Cornucopia, which was clearly the place to be. The only problem with the Cornucopia, though, was that it was removed, his victims would have to come to him. Waiting wasn't something that Killian wanted to abide.
"The vantage point from this angle gives us a solid advantage," Jonas stated. The boy never got excited about anything, always hiding behind his fancy words. Part of Killian wanted to turn on him right now and shove him from the cliff, but he had to keep the Careers' best interests in mind. There was still at least one strong group of four out there in the arena, with at least one tribute who had some training, Ibrahima. To eliminate any in their own number before making sure that group was in hand would be a mistake.
"I just don't understand why they're not taking the bodies," Saphyra whined. "It gives me the creeps."
"Afraid of a couple ghosts? Come on, there are only three of them actually up here anyhow," Killian scoffed, glancing over at the corpses of the girls from 6 and 11 and the boy from 6. Saphyra scoffed at him in reply and defiantly sat right beside the boy from 6's body.
Killian sighed. The bloodbath hadn't been nearly as satisfying as he had built it up to be in his mind. He wished their group would have been faster, would have made it all the way up here first, rather than getting side tracked by Ibrahima's group. If that had happened then maybe the greatest threat in the arena would have been gone and they could have gotten on with it. He certainly wouldn't have left the slaughter without any kills.
"We did pretty well," Dane said, coming and sitting beside him. She looked as though she was tentative about sitting so close to the edge. "Six down between everything that happened."
"And you killed one of them," Killian answered, trying to keep the jealousy from showing in his voice. He realized that was probably a lost art, because all he could think about was killing, the thrill of the chase.
"So, you have a daughter," Dane changed the subject.
"And you have a husband," Killian retorted, not really in the mood for chit chat.
"What have we got for food in there? I'm famished," Saphyra interrupted. Nero was digging through the supplies, sorting out the weapons, food and other supplies, making piles of this and that, things Killian had no patience for.
"The food's here. Remember, though, we have to ration it. We'll probably be getting sponsor gifts, but we can't depend solely on them, especially when there's so much competition," Nero replied. From the sound of it he'd been hoping for a larger bloodbath too. In Killian's dreams they would have been halved by now, instead they were only down by six and he hadn't killed a single one of them. He didn't want to waste his first day, didn't want his adrenaline to wane. From the way Saphyra was gnawing on the apple in her mouth she was feeling similar.
"Let's go hunt down the other group!" Killian suggested. He didn't actually think it was the most expert idea, certainly not what his Mentor would have counseled right now, but neither Blake nor Echo was there. This was his choice, his arena and he needed to let it know who was boss.
"I'm with you!" Saphyra exclaimed just as he thought she would. "They tried to take us on. We've got to teach them a lesson, take them out before they get any ideas, get any sponsor gifts. We've got the advantage right now. We've got weapons."
"We shouldn't leave the Cornucopia unguarded, though," Dane protested.
"Then just the two of us will go," Killian declared. "We can take them. Once we find them it'll be dark and it'll probably only be one of them on guard. We can take them easily."
"The statistics would suggest that bringing more allies with you would benefit you both, especially since there's a possibility that the opposition acquired new allies," Jonas added.
"They didn't, so the two of us can take them," Killian answered definitively. "I'm going. Saphyra are you with me?"
"If we run into trouble, we'll get our butts back here," she added confidently. Killian smiled broadly, grabbing a sword. Just holding his weapon made him feel as though this was where he was meant to be. From the day of his birth, this had been his purpose and he would show Ibrahima that, beyond a shadow of a doubt. Now he just had to figure out which direction they had gone. He looked North and South, using the overlook.
Ibrahima Abduilai – District Four
"Watch out," Freida shouted, grabbing Candice back to the path. The younger girl didn't seem to be able to walk in a straight line. That was going to be a problem, Ibrahima thought, as he led the group exploring through the Eastern side of the arena.
It seemed mostly deserted, with only rocks, boulders and the occasional swampy patch to bog them down. No other tributes were here, which was good for their defense; if someone had caught them off guard right now, tired from their earlier encounter, not settled and dragging all of their supplies on their backs, they might have been an easy target.
"Let's stop for a rest on that rock," he suggested. It had to be late afternoon by now and they hadn't eaten since breakfast. There they could finally break out the rations Candice had managed to grab.
Ibrahima sighed as Ailis sat down next to him, Freida supporting Candice. It had been a long, grudging day, but everyone seemed to be taking it all right. This might not have been the alliance he had imagined, but he couldn't have asked for better, unless of course he was guarding the Cornucopia instead. He'd made his choice of allies with that knowledge, though, and he didn't regret it.
At least Candice had gotten weapons, he thought. He had heard clanking around in the bag, a clanking that was undeniably metallic. He had to give it to her; he never would have imagined that part of their plan would have actually worked. When he, Freida, Ailis and Candice had quickly formulated their plan of attack he never would have envisioned the smaller girl actually making it up the tunnels and to the Cornucopia alive. She had insisted that the path would lead there and Ibrahima was content to let her try, after all, the worst that could have happened was losing their weakest link. But now Candice was seeming as though she might not be all that useless after all.
At long last Ibrahima plopped down on the rock. In the afternoon sun, his exhaustion filled him. Immediately he broke open the bag of supplies.
"We shouldn't stay here too long," Ailis cautioned. "Isn't one of your former allies an archer?"
"You're right. We've got to rest before we go any further, though. And look at this!" he pulled out a huge loaf of bread.
"That's wonderful. Candice, Freida, there's bread!" Ailis hollered back. They didn't need to be discreet yet, in fact maybe it was better if they were loud. After all, the four of them were a large group; anyone smaller needed to beware of them. Any tribute sneaking around by himself like a scavenger would think twice about attacking a group of this size.
"This isn't so bad. In the training center we stayed far too clean," Freida laughed, coming in soaked head to toe with marsh water. Candice beside her was equally covered and Ibrahima burst out laughing.
"Can you imagine the look on Evriam Link's face if he saw you now?" Ibrahima just imagined the escort's face contorting in disgust at the look of the mud. But what tribute had ever won the Hunger Games with a clean victory. "Hey, hey," he scolded her as she reached out for a piece of bread. "Wash your hands before you touch this with them."
"Germophope," Freida countered, breathing on him. "There, you've got my germy breath too." She stuck her tongue out tauntingly and Ibrahima socked her on the arm.
"Everyone eat up. We've had a long day and it's not going to be an easy evening," Ailis instructed. "We've got to get out of range before the Careers notice, so eat quickly."
Beep, beep, beep. Ibrahima heard the sound of an incoming parachute. Sponsor gifts so early in the Games? It wasn't even the first evening. He couldn't imagine having done anything that significant yet, especially with no kills.
"What'd I get?" Ibrahima asked as Freida ducked into the swamp to retrieve the parachute.
"It's not for you," she said bluntly.
"What do you mean?" Ibrahima asked. "Of course it is. I'm the one everybody's got their eye on, right? I mean, no offense."
"It's got a 3 on it," Freida said, holding it out to Ailis.
"For me?" the girl questioned. What could Iris have gotten her so quickly? They were doing all right. Wouldn't it have been more prudent to wait to give her whatever was in the parachute until they were in dire straits? "Whatever it is, it's for all of us to share," Ailis said, clearly trying to assuage Ibrahima's pride.
"In that case, I hope it's a very delicate girly perfume," Ibrahima joked. "Or maybe the diamond I haven't seen since training." He was still hurt that no one had come forward with the diamond. Yes, this was the Hunger Games, but even tributes were supposed to have their standards of moral conduct.
Ailis pried open the tiny parachute, revealing a long, golden rope. She looked at it inquisitively.
"Worst case you can use it as a necklace," Ibrahima commented. "A very very long necklace. Or you could leash us all together so we don't get bogged down in the mud, eh Freida?"
"We should get going, right?" Ailis suggested, uncomfortably. "Do we still keep going south?"
She was trying to butter him up, once again trying to spare his feelings. This is what he got for being in a group of three girls, though, Ibrahima thought.
"Yeah, we go south until we get our strength back. Then I want the Cornucopia, not just a taste of it," Ibrahima declared, determinedly. They needed to be reminded of their goal if he was going to get these girls into shape. But could they really do it, he wondered. Could they take control of the Cornucopia like he'd always dreamed or would he just have to formulate another plan. They would just have to find out.
Jonas Tanner – District 7
Sometimes imprudence played its part to benefit those deep in the council of wisdom, Jonas reflected as he watched Saphyra and Killian descend upon their ill-advised, bloodthirsty venture, leaving him with Nero and Dane. The sun was showing signs of preparing for its descent, heralding the coming of night. The scene was being set perfectly for an eventful first night of the Games.
"We should ensure our defenses are properly fortified," Jonas suggested. "Should any other groups see that there only remain three of us instead of the five they anticipated being here they may not hesitate to strike, especially since we know there are obscure ways to penetrate the Cornucopia itself." Both of his present allies looked at him as though there were a tree protruding from his head. "You didn't take note?" he asked.
"We didn't notice what?" Dane asked, irritably. She was clearly wishing that she had gone with the others, perhaps to prove her worth, perhaps because she could sense what was coming; if she had been in possession of a single sensible bone in her body she would have been otherwise located by now.
Nero looked up from where he was still sorting through supplies with an inquisitive look in his eyes. Jonas continued to be evasive.
"There is an obscure entrance to the Cornucopia. Surely you noticed; several of the smaller tributes took advantage of its existence during the bloodbath. The little one from three was the first to spot it, realizing even before the gong sounded that he would be able to gain access from a tunnel from just under his podium that led to the very mouth of the Cornucopia. Given his nature, I assume he made off with some shiny objects."
"He's just a twelve year old. I wouldn't worry about him," Nero assured Jonas.
"I wouldn't dismiss him so quickly. Sometimes the most un-noteworthy opponent is indeed the most dangerous and sometimes the most dangerous is allowed to survive the longest, but in the end is the least difficult obstacle to surmount," he said, pointedly. From the expression on Dane's face it was evident that his puzzle had achieved its purpose, namely confusing her. But had he adequately conveyed his message to Nero. "And sometimes, the greatest obstacle is indeed a utility. . ." he trailed off, suggesting. Nero bit his lip and nodded.
"And things that can be utilized, particularly in . . . fortifying an alliance . . . should be maintained until their benefit has been expended?" he suggested hesitantly.
"Precisely," Jonas nodded. Nero understood. Right now their need for watchful defense trumped their need to be favored by the Gamemakers and the sponsors, but that would not last. No, Jonas could not foresee it lasting longer than the night.
Margery Kelta – District 8
"It's not too late to turn back," Elric suggested. They stood at the entrance to what seemed to be a deserted city, something in and of itself quite terrifying. Margery shook her head. No, if they were to find allies, allies who might actually have mutual benefit, this was the place to do it.
She'd seen Leoric run over here, or at least she had thought she had. In the aftermath of the bloodbath at the Cornucopia she wasn't certain, but there were only so many places he could have gone. That wasn't true either, Margery thought, second guessing herself once again. This was the Hunger Games, anything was possible. They didn't even know what most of the arena looked like, since she didn't exactly want to go exploring with just the two of them with the darkness coming. Elric wasn't much protection, even armed with a sword and she didn't want just the two of them striking out. The one question was whether Leoric would take her as an ally.
They hadn't allied before, so why should they now? In fact, now that they were no longer in training, he might even try to kill her without a second thought. But they would never know until they tried.
Taking a deep breath as though she were going underwater, Margery entered the city.
"Stay close," she hissed at Elric, her voice trembling. She needed Leoric to think she was more terrified than she was, less capable than she was if she had any chance of endearing herself to him.
That was part of the reason she'd brought Elric along. As his district partner, Leoric might be inclined to have mercy on Margery, but Elric had shown himself to be nothing but sweet and innocent. Rumors of her murdering her supervisor may have tainted her reputation as an innocent girl, at least in his mind, Elric might sway him. She could only hope.
And she could only hope that he was there. The city seemed entirely deserted.
"Leoric?" she questioned, hoping speaking his name wouldn't cause any ill to befall her.
Leoric Hughes – District 8
From their hiding place behind the largest wall of the city, he and Tanner exchanged a look. They didn't dare make a sound before they were ready, before they'd decided whether to attack, stay hidden or befriend the newcomers.
He recognized the girl's voice, of course. He'd heard Margery speaking, yelling, crying for the past four days, so how could he not know her voice now that it came down to it?
They were getting closer and from what Leoric could see through the peek-hole, they were armed.
"We can't trust them," Tanner mouthed. Leoric knew that. They couldn't trust anyone, really, but he had known that for a very long time. He should have known Ridge would turn tail; he had never wanted to charge the Cornucopia in the first place but simply hadn't wanted to rock the boat. He couldn't really blame him for running when things turned violent. He should have known both Jayanti and Brody would be dead and he and Tanner would be stuck here without supplies, without weapons.
"We can't let them find us," Leoric agreed. He saw the boy from five, Elric, he thought his name was, trying to keep pace with Margery with a sword in hand. He looked almost as tired as Leoric felt, dragging his feet with every step. If this duo was going to rest for the evening, it was going to be here, Leoric realized. With another group so close, how long was it before someone else came hunting down the groups of tributes in the city, or before the Gamemakers forced them together. Would they do that this early?
Leoric ran his fingers through his already greasy hair. He didn't like turning his back on Margery just when she needed them, they were from the same district after all, but who was to say that she wouldn't just stab him if he did reveal his presence? That seemed all the more likely as she hadn't put down her knife.
No, Tanner was right. They couldn't trust her, at least not now. Sometime, though, either she or they would have to let down their guard or would make one false move and reveal themselves.
"Can we rest, just for a little while?" Margery's ally asked, exhausted.
"Yes," she agreed, setting her gear down just a couple of feet away. Leoric and Tanner exchanged looks. They would wait, he thought as Margery volunteered to take first watch. They would watch and wait.
Ridge Therne – District 11 Male
He was sick of waiting, Ridge thought, standing up for what must have been the third time in the past 10 minutes. Yet, despite his restlessness, he wasn't sure what to do or where to go. He only knew one thing, he could not go back.
So maybe the answer was forward, Ridge, thought, placing one tentative step in front of himself. After all, it would be dark soon. Who knew what business would go on at the Cornucopia and it was probably best to distance himself as far as he could from it. True, he was already a good distance, but further never hurt.
Unless he ran out of room, he contemplated. He really didn't like the look of the structures further out, they almost looked like tombs above the ground, ready to eat anyone in their path alive, but he liked the look of returning even less. Maybe he could even find food, water, shelter that direction, no matter how dismal a prospect it seemed at the moment.
Ridge wandered along for a little while. He wanted to run, to burn even more energy, but he knew that was a foolish thought. The more energy he expended, the more food he would need and right now he was running short of both.
How long had it been since he had seen another person, Ridge wondered. Hours, maybe? Had it only been that long? It seemed like days already since he and the "bro-lliance" had parted ways, days since the girl from 12 had died, a death that had most likely been intended to be his own.
About 100 yards away, Ridge saw a seemingly dead tree. It would do for shelter, certainly, he thought, and would certainly give him an advantage on any of the tributes who couldn't climb.
It wouldn't do much to hide him from unfriendly eyes, though, Ridge realized as he came up to it. There were no leaves on the dead thing and it was barren of anything that would resemble food.
Ridge sighed, wondering whether he should chance not staying there this evening, chance finding some other refuge, perhaps somewhere with food and water. After all, he would need to eventually, why not now. The night was coming quickly, though, and he didn't want to explore too extensively in the dark.
A cry off in the distance answered Ridge's own question. Not this evening, he decided. Right now he at least knew where he stood and had some security. Tomorrow he could venture off and explore, formulate a better strategy.
He thrust himself into the tree, using the lowest branch, which was still above his eye level, to propel himself up. He was nearly at the top before he decided the next branch wouldn't support him. Perfect, he thought. This height would give him an ideal vantage point for any activity below.
Almost as he thought that, he saw someone, moving on the ground. Ridge froze, preparing himself. He hadn't actually considered the possibility that someone would be nearby, much less someone coming so close before the cover of darkness concealed him. If that tribute just looked up in the branches and had the skill of a weapon he was doomed. He was quick, but not nearly quick enough to escape the Career archer's bow if that was him below.
But it wasn't. Ridge looked down to see long blonde hair and a slender figure. The girl from five, Altair. He wondered how she had made it here so quickly, how she had concealed herself so he hadn't seen her until just now.
She hadn't looked up yet, hadn't seen him. Ridge weighed his options. He could sit tight and wait for the night ad darkness to come, or he could cry out to her, see if she would ally with him. After all, sitting in a tree by yourself was a lonely business. The Hunger Games were depressing enough without having to endure them by himself.
She was unarmed, he could see that by her bearing. So if she did turn unfriendly and wanted him dead it would be an unarmed match. Ridge thought he could take her if it came to that, but shuttered at the thought, remembering their encounter the first day of training. He remembered sticking up for her when Marune had been bullying her. Marune, he thought, shuddering again. Even though she was gone, her cruelty lived on in Ridge's mind. In truth, part of the reason he'd wanted to avoid the fight at the Cornucopia was because he had known she was going to be there; he couldn't have imagined her running when there was such a bounteous opportunity for a fight. Where had her so called allies been as she got herself killed? He wasn't sure, but he imagined Marune had died alone, friendless, the way she had insisted she wanted to live by the way she had pushed everyone's caring aside. That wasn't how he wanted to go, Ridge decided, his mind made up. He wanted someone by his side.
Altair Ellion – District 5
"Altair," a voice hissed. It sounded as though it had come from above, perhaps from all around her. The acoustics in the arena were off, she thought, her heart racing faster. Who would have called her name? She couldn't be going insane already. She was accustomed to this solitude, Altair assured herself, she knew what would have to be done and was better off alone. She pressed herself against the base of the tree to try to steady herself.
Then she saw a foot dangling about 20 feet above her.
Altair jumped sky high and dashed back a couple of steps to get a look at her assailer. Her breath came quickly, expecting him to jump down and draw a weapon at any moment.
It was Ridge, she realized. She played dug one of the acorns she had been gathering deep into her finger, like a guitar pick, reminding herself of the callouses on her fingers from playing her violin. That always brought her to her senses.
"What do you want?" she asked, her voice even. Even as she asked, her eyes darted around, looking for a makeshift weapon, anything that could defend her life should this encounter go ill.
"Honestly, I don't know," Ridge said with a smile. "But for now I want to make sure I'm not alone."
His response sounded trustworthy enough, but Altair was wary. He'd had an alliance that had seemed thick as thieves in training. Where were they now? Had she walked into an ambush?
"Your "bro-liance" isn't company enough?" she demanded.
Ridge shook his head sadly, his smile finally leaving his face. "Half of them are dead and I'll never see the other half on friendly terms again." He wasn't lying to her, Altair decided. She'd had to read people on the streets, adjust her music to their subtle likes and dislikes, avoid them when they were drunk or simply wanted someone to take their anger out on. There was no lie in Ridge's eye. He truly was alone.
"Discrete hiding place," Altair joked, trying to climb up into the trees herself. The first branch she grabbed she slipped off of, tumbling back to the ground.
"Do you want a hand?" Ridge asked.
"I'll manage," Altair insisted. She couldn't have him thinking she was weak. If he did, he could just shove her off the limb. He still could, Altair realized as she hoisted herself up onto the lowest branch. Any higher and she would be at his mercy.
Her hands grasped the branch above her, but her feet refused to move. She wouldn't scream, wouldn't cry out.
She felt his hand clasp hers and helped steady her on the thick branch.
"This is very high," she observed, trying to disguise the trembling of her voice.
"I won't let you fall," Ridge said.
"I'll take the first watch if you want to sleep," Altair offered, hoping he would trust her. By his smile, she was glad to see that he did. "If you snore, I'll shove you off the branch," she promised as he settled in.
Mobie Calp – District 10 Male
"I wish I weren't alone," Mobie whispered aloud. He didn't care right now how safe or unsafe he felt; above all other desires, he wished he weren't facing his greatest fear alone. With his one ally and District Partner both gone, Mobie really didn't know what to do next.
The echoes of the cannons had long since vanished from the horizon and night was beginning to set in. How would he fend for himself alone in the night? Would he just get picked off by whatever group came by whenever he chanced to sleep, for sleep he must, sooner or late.
Mobie shuttered at the thought. How long could he go without rest, without food, without water, before insanity began to take its toll? He knew tributes had lost their minds in the Games before. He hadn't considered even asking Steric about this. In retrospect, perhaps he should have.
There were so many things he hadn't accounted for, Mobie thought, fighting the despair that rose, opposite the setting of the sun. Perhaps now he never would get the chance.
Ping. He heard a soft sound breaking the silence of his mind. It seemed to be coming from just feet over his head in the darkness. Could it truly be a sponsor parachute? Who would sponsor him? A lone boy from District 10? Was he really anyone's first choice of victor?
Perhaps not. The parachute pinged again and seemed to be drifting off into the distance. Yet it hovered, as though waiting for him to follow.
Mobie considered. How much further could he be from the edge of the arena? Could this be a trap to lure him to a quick death? Maybe Steric had deceived him and was now looking for the easiest way out of this rather than having to fight for him. After all, with Nina gone, he was all that stood between her and the bottle of booze she had sworn off. How much was his life really worth in her eyes? After the past couple of days he would hope that he still had some value.
What choice did he have besides trusting her, Mobie considered. He emerged from his hiding place, following the parachute.
Only a couple of meters away, sure enough, it stopped and floated to the ground. Mobie slunk cautiously, terrified another tribute or a mutt would spring out of nowhere, out from behind one of the other boulders, perhaps, or from somewhere Mobie hadn't even imagined. He reached the parachute alone, no other competition. His hands trembled as he opened it, eager to discover its contents.
Within lay a single key, dazzling a ruby color, as though reflecting the sunlight.
Right ahead of him, Mobie glimpsed a sparkle of some sort. Startled, he turned around, thinking he would see the glistening of a sword or spear and then find his own end, but it was not so. The expanse behind him was equally as barren as it had been a moment ago. What had that flash been?
Mobie looked up above his head again, from whence he thought it had come and once again saw a light. He had found the spot this time, so it was clearer, more distinct. The sunlight seemed to dance in a ruby outline upon the shape of a keyhole. But it appeared in midair? His hands shaking in confusion and wonder, Mobie extended his newfound key and thrust it into the keyhole. It turned and beneath it something clicked, revealing an opening. Out of instinct, Mobie pushed on the space below, immediately adjacent to his shoulder and turned the key out of the hole. A doorlike shape gave way and revealed a space beyond, a speace into which Mobie could not yet see. Swallowing with fear thinking of what lay beyond, Mobie entered.
Beyond the door the final rays of the setting sun weren't needed to illuminate what lay beyond. Starlight already shown upon a pond within. Before the pond was a grove of trees, welcoming Mobie to its shade. It was a paradise, Mobie thought. He remembered Mags' strategy: take care of yourself, hide and win. Mobie nodded in silent agreement. This would be where he spent the night; clearly that had been the message Steric and his sponsors had wanted to convey.
"Not today, death," he farewelled the outside world, shutting the door to his sanctuary, enclosing himself in.
Bailey Thermes – District Seven
Ping, ping, ping. The sound from up above thoroughly surprised Bailey. Raivel had been resting for only a couple of moments when she first heard it off in the distance, but now the pinging was closer, unmistakable for the sound of a parachute descending to the ground.
That meant it was either for one of the two of them or for someone very close.
"Raivel," Bailey whispered.
"What?" he asked, instantly awake, but not alarmed. She didn't think anything could actually frighten him. She opened her mouth to explain, but his eyes lit up as though he heard the pinging noise too. The two of them exchanged glances.
"I'll get it," he said eagerly. Maybe he just wanted some motion. They'd been hiding in the hole eating, taking shelter for the past couple of hours because it had been safe, but now, if there was someone in the area, he was the smarter choice to send as a scout. He was quicker, more cunning, and more accustomed to not being seen.
Quick as a flash, before Bailey could utter "be careful" Raivel was out of the hole. Bailey couldn't see what was going on. Though the sun hadn't yet descended it was too dark to follow Raivel from the angle she had.
In an instant, though, she heard something unmistakable, voices. She couldn't tell how far off they were, but they sounded like two of the Careers, a boy and a girl. Their footfalls sounded determined and close.
"Hey!" one of them exclaimed. "There's one!"
"Forget it. It's just one of the little runts," the boy called, but one of the footsteps quickenedd. He'd been seen. Bailey crushed her hands together mustering her courage and popped her head out.
"Go!" Raivel shouted just as he popped back in the hole, parachute in hand. A blonde haired girl wasn't far behind him, Bailey realized as he dragged her back into the hole.
"Don't stop," he hissed and led her down a passageway she hadn't realized connected to their hole. The light began to fade behind them.
"Where did they go?" the girl's voice echoed from the distance. Were they safe? Bailey froze as the footsteps sounded further and further away.
"They're gone for now," Raivel confirmed. "And we have a new quest," he declared, holding out a key that shimmered in the night.
Aeden Sanderling – District Seven Mentor
"They're both still alive and doing wonderfully," Haspereek was encouraging him. He didn't understand why she stayed, even with Brody gone. Rolath had clearly taken full responsibility for Candice and it wasn't as though she had any vested interest in anything that was still going on.
"Do I look that depressed that I need to be encouraged every minute for fear I'll break into a million tiny pieces?" Aeden asked. He smirked a little, trying to communicate that he did still have some sense of humor. The Games hadn't robbed him of it entirely.
"Well, you did look like you could use some cheering up," Haspereek commented.
"Thank you,"Aeden said. "I only wish –" but his thought was cut short by what was happening on the screen. Everything was peaceful and calm in the arena, yes. None of the tributes were actively slashing at each other, no, something even more terrifying was happening, something which was beyond any of the tribute's control. Aeden gripped his chair until his knuckles were white, wishing he could pry his eyes from the screen, wishing he could wake up from this nightmare, but his eyes remained fixed, paralyzed. He could feel his limbs shaking as though trapped in perpetual motion and was certain his heart was beating out of his chest. He was sure that he wasn't even breathing.
"Aeden?" Haspereek questioned, but she couldn't help. No one could.
On the screen was Gloria's body, the body of the sweetest, youngest tribute to die. And slowly, but constantly as the tide of the ocean, her body was disappearing, little by little, consumed by a puddle of darkness. The bodies of the five other tributes could be seen on the other cameras, fading the same way. They were all disappearing, the exact same way Calli's body had disappeared years before. He tried to say her name as her face came before him, cold and dead and vanishing into the ocean, just as it had the last time he had seen her, but he couldn't say anything. Her fierce red hair blending into the darkness of the ocean was the last thing he saw before he lost consciousness.
" The genius and the mortal instruments
Are then in council; and the state of man,
Like to a little kingdom, suffers then
The nature of an insurrection."