Date: Year 9, September. Twelve days after Mags' victory. Part 3
"Girl, wait until we stop!"
"Let her be," Angelites said in soft tones.
Mags jumped off the stifling boat and into the shallow water, caring neither for her soaked and filthy clothes nor for the peacekeepers waiting for her on the shore. She filled her lungs with fresh air, willing the stench of blood scoured away. Away, she wanted to get away from the senseless violence, the madness of it all.
Three hundred yards away from the broken reef, Genny's piercing screams still echoed in her mind.
The black-haired girl had been tiny but stout, and only the wind had kept her screams from reaching the shore. They'd found her red-faced and thrashing, her body slick from sweat as she tried to keep her face above the water and free her leg from the sharp large rock pinning it down. It had taken the strength of the four of them to get her out and even then Gibbs' shirt was barely enough to garrote the leg and stop the blood loss. The limb had been sliced and crushed Mags hoped the girl, more a woman, was agile with her hands, for she'd never be quick on her feet anymore.
The boy from Sickleport, Calder, was physically unscathed, but he'd been trapped in the collapsed cave the longest. The peacekeeper who'd agreed to drive the boat found him almost unconscious, purple and shivering in the water, barely clinging to the reefs. Angelites had breathed life back into his heart, but there was no way to tell how long he'd been under and if his mind was fine. Upon seeing those broken people, Mags felt every wish of vengeance flee her heart. They would pay for their crimes every day of their lives.
It was the sight of Rio which had almost made Mags lose the contents of her stomach. The young woman had scraped her hand against the rocks in horror and rage when she'd seen Rio's mangled body lying limp in pool of blood and water. He'd been thrown face first into the sharp reefs. His arm and wrist lay at an impossible angle and his face was mangled beyond recognition. Not even the Games had prepared her for such a sight. It took all of Mags' willpower to close the distance between them and carry him to the boat.
Rio, a sailor boy on the Seaman's Compass. Mags had known almost nothing about him before today, but the fresh tattoos on his broad shoulders had told his tale to all who laid their eyes on him. A crow holding an hourglass, an open locket on a bloodied silk tissue: his mother had been executed. He was younger than she was. Rio Anchor, Gibbs had said. Mags had worked for his uncle, a fair, solid man, since she had turned fourteen. The boy's chest had still been heaving, in irregular stubborn attempts to cling on to existence.
Mags knew Rio wouldn't make it and suddenly, a sense of terrible waste had washed over her. She couldn't save him even if she tried. Achlys had made it clear that she had permission to buy Capitol medicine only for her family and close friends and only her mother and sister could, in the direst of emergencies, be flown to the Capitol. The victor blinked back tears of frustration.
Esperanza was waiting for her on the sandy grass. Her unblemished skin and brittle smile captured the last of the red sun's rays, and Mags could almost allow herself to imagine all this had been a bad dream. Her little sister stood tall, unharmed, her braid much too perfect for someone who had just been assaulted.
Mags smiled, awe coloring her ashen face. No sound exited her mouth as she failed to tame the tempest of emotions swirling inside her.
"I'll walk you to school from now on, until we figure out something," she finally said, a part of her wondering why she didn't just hug her sister instead of staring like blind woman offered sight.
Esperanza gasped. "Your hand is bleeding."
"It's nothing, just a shallow cut," Mags said dismissively. "I'm so happy to see you, Angel."
"Vicuña could fight with her hands," Esperanza began shyly, walking up to her sister and grasping her arm.
What?
"It was Glynn's idea. I want to learn to defend myself, physically."
Vicuña? Mags turned slowly towards Glynn, who had the good grace to look abashed. "Vicuña?"
Yet, was it such a bad idea? Her willful sister had little in common with the first Career. Mags was confident Esperanza would not misuse any skills she was taught.
"I'll be going, you don't need me anymore. You know where to find me," Glynn said, with an awkward salute. A quick smile flashed on her lips. "See you, Hope."
"Bye," Esperanza said with a grin. Her smile fell as her huge dark eyes turned to Mags. She eagerly squeezed her hands. "Did you save them?"
Mags' stomach churned. What must her little sister think of her? Rushing off to help her kidnappers instead of being the supportive adult she was supposed to be.
"They're dead?" Esperanza whispered, paling. A sob escaped her throat. "I'm so sorry."
Mags' face fell in dismay. "No, no," she hurriedly said. "Only Rio's in real danger. We got there in time. I just..." Mags' throat constricted painfully. "Was it alright with Glynn?"
Esperanza grinned again, "I'm so selfish," she said with a chirpy glee that made Mags' spirits soar.
How could the girl be so radiant in a time like this? Mags smiled back, soaking up her sister's positive emotions even though they confused her greatly.
"I'm so happy that you're so upset and I get to be strong in a way that matters right now," Esperanza said with a little laugh, hugging Mags harder. "It's been so horrible to always be the weak one, the one that had to be protected and kept in the dark." Esperanza let out a loud breath. "You have no idea, Big Sis. Glynn told me why you needed to save them. I'm glad you didn't make yourself miserable for my sake and trusted me to be strong. It's so nice to know I can help." She giggled again and looked down. "It's so selfish to think like that. I'm sorry, but-" her voice trailed off, but Mags could almost feel her smile against her chest. She brought her hand to Esperanza's head, returning her sister's embrace.
Esperanza was happy, that was all that mattered. Mags was too drained to ponder it further.
She heard movement behind her and tensed. She relaxed again when a cool hand gently fell on her neck.
"Let's go home, children."
"The peacekeepers?" Mags wearily asked, wishing everyone save her mother and sister would disappear. "Kyle -"
"Tomorrow," Angelites said softly, "it's all fine."
A huge weight lifted off Mags' shoulders. The seventeen year old had never found her mother so beautiful.
The three came to an abrupt halt at the edge of town. A woman's scream, a scream heavy with anguish and rage, pierced through the gloom. It was growing louder, coming closer.
Guilt sent electricity sizzle up Mags' limbs and pulled her out of her state of drowsy relief and giddiness. She hadn't been there to hear her mother convince the peacekeepers not to escort them home and now she cursed her lack of foresight. She had wanted to believe her mother was invincible and perfect instead of a shaken woman clinging to her privacy, to the illusion of a normal life, after almost losing her youngest daughter.
Now someone was running towards them.
"You killed my son! You cold-hearted harpy! Child-murderer!" A gray-haired woman shrieked, tears spilling down her swollen face as she ran towards them with her fist raised.
Angelites voice was soft and unyielding, but her face was deathly pale and her lips trembling when she turned to face Mrs. Garron. "I should have let him kill my daughter?"
"He just wanted you to give us what was our right to have. You destroyed me! My son, he was my life. My life is over, you-"
"Well in that case, I'd be happy to end what I started," the raven-haired woman ground out, causing the other to freeze a few feet away from her.
Esperanza gasped at the sight of the gleaming blade but Mags wasn't scared for Douglas' mother. She was scared for her own. Angelites' grip on the weapon was all wrong. She stood stiff, her shoulders' hunched, as if steeling herself to take a blow. Her face tight and her dark eyes dim. The woman looked brittle. The fire that had animated in the last hours had died, and Angelites seemed to struggle not to collapse. Mags clasped her mother's free arm, and squeezed her hand.
A wiry man with leathery skin grabbed the frenzied woman by the shoulder. Mags noticed a terrified girl hovering a few steps behind in the darkness.
"She's just in shock," the man hastily said, his voice thick with unshed tears, "she still sees Douglas as the spirited kid he used to be. She's his mother, he could do no wrong in her eyes. She's not dangerous, she's just grieving. Don't kill her," he begged, his voice breaking.
"Shut up, Hurley," the woman said venomously, clutching her heart. "He's your son! You should be killing her for me, for Doug," her voice rose to a shriek of agony, "for the grandchildren we'll never have!"
Mags' eyes went from him to the fourteen year old girl standing behind her father and staring terrified at the unfolding scene. Unlike them, Mags knew her mother would not throw the knife. The weapon was simply there as a shield.
"Mama, let's go home," she said, tugging on her mother's arm. She had nothing to say to these people and any apology remained stuck in her throat. No parent should have to bury their child, but Douglas had dug his own grave.
"You," Mrs. Garron screeched, throwing off her husband and barreling towards Mags as she registered the victor's presence. "You filth! You should have died, it's your fault, curse -"
Mags punched the hysterical woman's jaw like she had punched Keane over two weeks before, but this time she felt no guilt. She watched Mrs. Garron fall limp on the ground, her shoulder taking the brunt of the fall and forced herself to remember this was a grieving mother.
Mags forced Esperanza and her mother to turn and leave. The sudden silence was as welcome as it was oppressive.
"She'll be conscious again in seconds. Take her home, Sir. Let her grieve in a reasonable way and keep whoever would still support Douglas away from my family," she said in icy tones.
No further harm would come to her family, not on her watch.
The man knelt by his wife's side and nodded, his worn traits tight with grief and resignation.
Mags turned her back to them, half-dragging her mother as she hastily walked back towards their house on the cliff.
"Give me the keys. I'll run home," Esperanza said as soon as Douglas' family was out of sight, anger barely concealed in her tone. She huffed as the other two failed to mask their confusion. "You won't talk in front of me, so let me go. I won't sulk, relax. Just talk to each other," she said, worry plain in her dark eyes as she stared at their mother.
Mags managed a proud smile as she handed her sister the keys, wondering when Esperanza had grown up. The path to the house was lit, Esperanza wouldn't leave their sight.
"I never thought I'd ever kill a boy," Angelites whispered after a few seconds, sorrow aging her face twenty years. "A boy from this town…"
"He was twenty years old," Mags corrected, having no better answer to offer. Douglas had been old enough to make his choices, horrifying as they had been.
"A boy. A selfish idiot boy. A boy who cared for nothing or no one save his dreams of fiery destruction."
Mags found nothing to say. How could she argue with guilt? Reason was as useful as a sharp sword against a raging fire. Instead she asked a question that had been keeping her awake in the evenings.
"Mama, who do you go to to cry?" Her hands wrapped themselves over the ashen-faced woman's. "I'm very serious," Mags said softly when her mother simply squeezed her fingers harder, "everyone needs someone they allow themselves to look weak with. I know you don't want me to be that person, but you can't do this alone. I know you don't regret this, but it has to be horrible for you. I want you to take care of yourself."
Her mother's two closest friends hadn't survived the rebellion, and Mags wondered if those she still had were the kind you cried with. Since Mags had never gotten to know them well, she couldn't help but doubt.
"I promise I'll try. I will. Come here, Preciosa," Angelites said, her voice quivering and her eyes wet as she clung to her daughter. "Whatever we go through, we'll face together, and we'll get through it together."
Mags clung to her just as hard.
Esperanza was waiting for them in her nightdress, snuggled in her mother's big new double-bed. "The three of us fit in, and I'm going to drop," she said, gesturing them over.
It was barely past eight o'clock, but Mags didn't even think to protest.
Date: Year 9, September. Thirteen days after Mags' victory.
Mags woke up at dawn. Her mother and Esperanza were still sleeping soundly. She tip-toed out of bed, finding the room suddenly oppressive. She wasn't surprised by her irrational hate of closed spaces anymore and simply hoped it would fade. She left a note on the table, even if she would just be sitting outside in the grass.
Mags didn't know how long she stayed there, her knees tucked under her chin at the edge of the windswept cliff on which stared down at the town below.
The market had not begun when she heard rustling behind her. "I figured you'd be awake," a familiar baritone softly said.
Marlin sat down next to her, dark bags to rival hers under his eyes. "Did Esperanza or Glynn tell you about yesterday?"
Mags shook her head, inviting Marlin to come closer and letting her head rest on his shoulder. She was happy to learn he'd come as soon as he'd heard the explosion.
"Does it have something to do with Dee not being here?" She said, guilt rising inside her at the thought of the fiery brunette. Dylana had every reason to feel betrayed.
The sandy-haired boy looked down. He chuckled once. "I think even Yarrow will get his head ripped off if he defends Douglas, but she's irrationally crazy about him and he's bad for her. I almost wish he'd hurt her, because that she'd be smart enough to stay away from. He tells her what she wants to hear. He's clever, but the wrong kind of clever. I'm not sure what to do. She's still listening to me, but it's not me she dreams of kissing."
Mags sighed grimly. Yarrow had been there for Dee when her friend had needed someone, and there was no changing that, no matter her own feelings. She could trust Marlin to keep Dee safe and smart and felt more resigned than afraid. Dylana wasn't simply a friend, she was, she had been, her best friend, and Dylana was loyal, even furious, she'd be loyal. It was more a matter of Dylana not falling into a trap.
"I think Dee and I will never be as close as before, but she'll snap out of it before betraying me. Keep her paranoid so she doesn't get in too deep. Tell her I said that and if she gets Yarrow to think, all the better," she said, hugging her knees against her chest.
"I'm sorry it happened like that. You and Dee…," Marlin squared his shoulders and gestured towards the house. "Esperanza seemed good last night. How is she?"
Mags chuckled. "Better than me or Mama. I'm amazed." Her voice hardened. "Can I have their names, Marlin?"
She suspected some, she hadn't been completely blind to what happened in her town. Yarrow meant Brooke and Dover were close by, and there were doubtless others. Berle, Galon and Mareen had made their opinions clear long before they'd left school. Berle still bore the marks, thin scars etched in his forearms, the brand of insolence, earned for throwing boiling oil at nine on a passing peacekeeper. He'd been lucky to miss. Mags had hoped they would have grown up, or that they wouldn't matter so much. She refused to underestimate them again.
Marlin stiffened as he understood her question. "If you start watching every teenager being immature about their grudge against the Capitol…"
That would be ridiculous, but she wanted to know what kind of people lived in her town. Speeches were all good but hardly sufficient. "You don't trust me to be reasonable?" She said, impatience creeping into her tone.
"Hours after Esperanza was kidnapped? No," Marlin said, staring at her squarely. "I'll get a list for you by the end of the week, I promise. You've got other things to worry about right now."
Like the peacekeepers who had been watching her... And Achlys, who would doubtless use this to make a statement, not to mention the funeral Mags would have to attend that afternoon. And Kyle. Mags shut her eyes and held back a groan. She'd forgotten that Kyle was still in custody. She had no idea what she wanted to do with him. Mags suddenly wondered why she had gotten out of her comfortable bed.
Few places in town were ever perfectly dry, but Mags had not been prepared for the stifling stench of warm mold invading her nose and mouth when she set foot in the small Justice Building's holding cells. The walls were cracked and glittered with humid black and green growth, and Mags wondered if cells so dreary were inevitable in small towns with few funds or if it had been built specifically to strip the accused of any dignity.
Kyle was sitting behind rusty bars in on a thin mattress of dubious cleanliness. A foot-sized hole linked one of the corners of the tiny room to, if the smell was any indication, the sewers. Mags' eyes stopped briefly on this mockery of a privy and decided she should at least try to persuade Achlys to humanize the cells and reduce the penalties for vandalism. If people grew to feel protected by the law instead of persecuted by peacekeepers, they would not shield troublemakers anymore.
"What can I do?" Kyle said when she finally turned her eyes on him, his voice cracked from lack of water.
His brown hair was matted and dirty, covered with the same sand that stuck to his bare chest and which proved he'd been thrown to the ground at least once. The poor light could be concealing bruises, but he seemed otherwise unhurt. The peacekeepers had kept their word and Mags was paradoxically disappointed. A part of her wanted them to act like villains, so she could find her people excuses.
"Maybe if you offer to do public work, they'll let you off after five hundred hours, if I put a word in," Mags said, her eyes on the rivulets of condensed water soaking through the chipped walls.
Seven weeks of backbreaking unpaid work would be a very heavy blow if he had a family to support, but even if the peacekeepers didn't seem hostile to her, she couldn't hope for any less. The only alternative would be a flogging, but twenty-five lashes could leave Kyle crippled.
"You think the world would be better if I'd never been born, right?" Kyle said, his hollow voice echoing glumly in the narrow space.
Mags lifted her eyes back to his face. She shrugged minutely, weary. What could she answer to that? Either he was a monster who'd possibly saved Esperanza because he'd realized it was the only way he'd escape being avoxed, or he was immature beyond compare. Consequences were something you thought about before, not after, and it seemed to Mags that Kyle didn't even know what he and his friends would have done with the ransom money.
"In the end, you did the right thing," she granted in bland tones. Esperanza was alive because of his quick reflexes, even if he had helped kidnap her in the first place. Mags didn't know what to think. Even if he had the best of intentions now, she couldn't afford to trust him.
"I mean what can I do to fix this? To stop screwing up and do something that has meaning? I don't want to be the squid-head who almost killed a kid for the rest of my life." A pleading light entered his green eyes. "I want to make it up, somehow. I know people, I can talk to them, or I can help you build your academy. Even I have the brains to move heavy stuff around," he said with a forced small smile. Kyle put his face in his hands and rubbed his reddened eyes. "I don't know... You're better at this than I'll ever be. What do you want me to do, Mags?"
Mags straightened, now eyeing the boy with greater respect. Could he be sincere? He wasn't clever, but anyone hardworking and devoted would be an asset. If he truly wanted to turn his life around...
"Do you know how Douglas obtained the explosives?" She said. "I can't see President Achlys overlooking that, and it will get ugly if we don't get her pacified quickly."
Kyle looked like he wanted to go lie down in the warm sand and die. "I know a guy who knows a guy who has a girl who gets things. Never knew weapons - except for knives and such- made the list before Douglas did this, and he's the one who talked to them. I got a recipe for homemade explosive, with alcohol and stuff, a few years ago, and knowledge goes around, but honest dynamite? I don't know how he did it."
"So either you talk, and the whole black market is shot down, or you don't, and the responsibility dies with Douglas," Mags finished bitterly.
Unfortunately, she wasn't surprised.
Kyle clenched his jaw so hard Mags thought she saw a tear escape his eyes. "I guess I never really knew Doug. We grew up together, we -" The young man let out a furious hiss and clamped his mouth shut again.
Mags knew his pride would not have him say more about Douglas. He could be acting, but she couldn't imagine someone observant enough to be a great liar to have been so stupid in the first place. She decided to focus on what Kyle could do now.
"What about talking sense into the others who didn't like me saying that breaking the barracks' windows was pointless and bad for the district?"
Kyle nodded, his shoulders hunched and tight from stress. "That I can do, but I'll need to argue properly, so I'm going to need to talk to you first, to really get why we're not being screwed over by the Capitol with this."
Mags found her respect for Kyle rise further at his admission. He knew his beliefs were wrong and he wanted to truly listen to her this time. She flashed him a smile, deciding to give him a chance.
"You know where to find me, Kyle. I'll talk to Peacekeeper Falx."
"You ever talked to him before?" Kyle said as she turned to leave.
A slight blush colored Mags' cheek. "He's the only peacekeeper I know by name," she admitted. "I'll have to change that," she muttered to herself.
Lieutenant Falx was the highest ranking officer in the town, he'd been there since the end of the rebellion, but Mags needed to learn to know at the very least the five in charge of her safety. She'd always stayed very clear of peacekeepers, too clear for what she had to do now.
Kyle looked surprised. "Oh." He chuckled. "With peacekeeper names I can help, I've been hiding from them half my life. Old Falx is long winded and can't stand it if you don't bow your head, but you do that and you're fine. He's not violent like some others." He suddenly dropped his gaze. "If you don't want me at your place, and I'd get that, I can meet with you anywhere."
Mags tensed when his calloused hand shot between the bars and grasped her wrist. His hold was gentle enough she didn't pull back.
"I mean it. I want to help. I have to," Kyle said, his green-eyes more intense than Mags would have thought possible.
Her breath caught in her throat and she just nodded. Her heart was still hammering in her chest when she walked out of the prison.
Rio hadn't survived the night. He was wrapped in a clean cloth on the table of the underground cold room, only his hands, calloused from hard work were visible.
The whole crew of the Compass was there, the twelve men and five women, leathery tanned skins and taut muscles bearing the inked testimony of a life at sea.
"When someone joins a ship, they leave everything behind," the fist mate, Ervin, said, his eyes lowered in respect. "The crew becomes your family. We lost a son today. "
"I'm sorry it came to this," Mags whispered.
The atmosphere was suffocating, thick with muted anger and keen sorrow. She was glad for Marlin's solid presence at her side.
"What a waste. He was a good lad." Ervin threw a resigned glance at Mags. "Got taken in by the wrong crowd. They were older, you know how easy kids are to awe at that age. They'll look up to anyone tough."
Mags refused to encourage such commiserations. People had to start acting and taking responsibility.
"You knew he hung out with such people," she said, keeping her voice low only because one did not shout in the morgue. "You decided it was a phase, that he'd grow up. You all decided that making him stay away from Douglas Garron wasn't necessary. My sister nearly got killed and he paid for it with his life. Are all experiences worth having? Next time, don't."
No one liked to be accused, least of all of murder of someone they were fond of. Mags fought against the urge to squirm as the sailors' expression darkened, in anguish or in fury.
"It's our fault?" A burly younger sailor with a shaved head said, his voice trembling with rage as he took a step towards Mags.
"Who cares?" Mags said, suddenly exhausted. What a stupid way to die, Rio. How many people would mourn him? Now there was no going back. "He's dead. Every one who knew could have stopped him. That's all that matters. That's all that will ever matter when it comes to people blowing things up in Four."
Would she have to deal with Rio's other friends, his siblings and parents? Would people attack them every time they set foot in town and Esperanza have to be pulled out of school? Mags couldn't let it happen. She'd never let fear run her life and would not start now.
"Everyone's angry at the way things are, it's not an excuse," Marlin said, taking advantage of his stout build to move Mags closer to the door and making sure she wasn't surrounded anymore. "You can't kidnap a twelve year old under the guise of hating the Capitol. What kind of person does that make you?"
"It makes you a kid who believed in a future," a wiry man in the back mumbled, his arms firmly crossed against his torso.
"You don't have to be an idiot to be able to believe in a future," Mags ground out, fighting the rising urge to punch the speaker. Hadn't they listened to a word she'd said in the past days? "Things won't change if no one tries. I'd like to see people try, by focusing their anger and controlling their children. We're not going to obtain anything without effort."
At least they didn't seem angry at her personally, maybe this time she'd gotten her point across, but the cost in blood had been too high.
Half the town had come to the Pier of Spirits. There were no boats on that beach, for this was where the waters were the most dangerous, dragging everything into the deep seas. The deep seas was where the dead of District Four belonged.
Douglas' and Rio's bodies rested on two thin boats, wrapped tightly in white cloth, with weights tied around the ankles and necks. The funeral boats were woven like baskets, very slowly letting the water in, and would sink once the currents had taken them far from the coast.
There were no speeches or ostentatious signs of mourning, those would come later, when the dead had been put to rest. Clad in a simple dark blue ceremonial dress, Marid Crow cut the ropes holding the boats anchored like she had done a thousand times in the last three decades. She was the Navigator, the guide of the departed, and the guardian of one of the very few traditions that had not been wiped out by the Capitol. Her deep voice rose into a chant, soon taken up by the assembled crowd. It was slow and solemn, rising over the waves and bird calls, erasing everything but the sheer presence of three thousand men and women united in the face of death. It was a chant of mourning and farewell, of hope in the afterlife and courage for the bereaved.
The ritual silence as the boats sped towards the horizon was interrupted by the motor of a hovercraft.
As the solemn atmosphere shattered, Mags felt her stomach lurch as people scrambled away from the landing carrier. Outraged murmurs rippled through the crowd at the interruption. Had peacekeepers no decency?
Those murmurs instantly stopped when the hovercraft's door revealed the figure protected by a dozen armored peacekeepers.
Evadne Achlys was here in person and she looked furious. Mags didn't remember a single time the President had come to Four, even in Lycorias, the main city.
"I want every last form of explosives turned in or I'll have a thousand men turn every house inside out to get them," Achlys said, her voice more cutting than a sharp blade, "I'm sure I'll find many interesting things I'd have never thought to ask for. It is high time you criminals stop believing that you can break the law unpunished."
The dire order had the effect of a thunder shock. The threat of a peacekeeper inquisition made more than one grown man whimper. There would be nothing left of Creneis Town after such an search. The Capitol did not joke when it came to weapons.
The President's short mocking laugh rang across the silent beach. "You had dynamite and triggers, and you used it to kill one of your own sailors in the hope of murdering a twelve year old child," Achlys said, her voice dripping scorn. "Your sense of strategy is outstanding."
A scream of unrestrained rage pierced through the chilly silence. A scream Mags had hoped never to hear again. Brandishing a piece of dried wood like a spear, Mrs. Garron pushed through the crowd and barreled towards Achlys. The desperate Hurley tried to stop her but was no match for his bulkier crazed wife.
Mags had the presence of mind to shield Esperanza's eyes but failed to avert her own.
One of the bodyguards wordlessly shot the woman before she got within twenty feet of the President. She convulsed on the sand, her screams cut short as blood fountained from her throat.
Hysterical screams, mainly of children, rose from the horrified gathering.
Mags tightened her hold on her sister until she felt the shorter girl shake her head in protest.
"Avox the husband and the girl," Achlys ordered in cold tones.
"They were trying to stop her," Mags hastily called out, ignoring the horrified inner voice ordering her to keep quiet. "They don't support Douglas' actions." Avox. She couldn't let Achlys turn the situation into an even greater disaster. The cycle of violence had to be broken.
The white-haired President paused, throwing Mags a circumspect look. Mags knew she would be summoned to the Capitol soon, and that she'd better have excellent arguments. Achlys then lifted her hands, as if bored by everything. The peacekeepers paused.
"You won't get a second warning. Get me the explosives, or the names of those who hoard them. You have ten days. Take one long look at your families, at your young children, think of who would use explosives and for what, and think hard on whether protecting those who would hoard them is worth it."
Achlys spun on her heels without another word. Two of her men unceremoniously put Mrs. Garron in a bag and dragged her into the roaring hovercraft.
Douglas' sister fell to her knees at the edge of the crowd as the paralyzing fear suddenly left her. Fat tears spilled soundlessly from her eyes as she watched her mother's body taken away.
There would be no burial, no ceremony to offer closure. Mags fought back tears. The Capitol did nothing by chance, they had no respect.
Slowly, the shock melted away and new whispers rose in the crowd. Angry words flitted over to Mags. "It's all her fault."
Whatever anger the unknown speaker had, Mags matched and doubled. She'd contradicted Achlys in public, risking her own life, for the sake of people who'd only caused her grief. How dare they not at least keep their petty resentment to themselves! She wasn't even asking for bloody gratitude.
A voice cut over the rising whispers. "Why didn't any of you speak up?" Glynn said, pointing at a group of mutinous teenagers and young adults standing back in their black mourning clothes. "Why is Mags the only one to defend the family of the guy who tried to kill her sister and who directly killed Rio? You really think the President is too nice to harm Mags if she finds her insolent? Or are you cowards just there when it comes to destroying stuff?"
The half-dozen accused stiffened and stepped forward, ready to insult the auburn-haired girl, but a louder murmur covered their voices, the angry mutter of a thousand people who were now turned towards the group. Most didn't look sympathetic, far from it. Mags felt a surge of grim relief, aware this was the opinion of the majority of her town. They weren't fools, they condemned Douglas, they condemned senseless destruction.
"I'm sure they don't mean Mags any harm, Treasure. We all mourn the good in every person who passes away, even if their faults are great," Cara Corduroy said with a sad smile. Her musical voice carried over the din, as if she'd addressed large crowds all her life.
The statement had the effect of an ultimatum and now every look was on the group of self-proclaimed rebels. Mags knew that if they failed to speak, they would be branded as immature children sulking because the most brazen of their friends had thrown away his life.
Caught in the open and unprepared, Douglas' supporters stayed silent. Their credibility, cracked by Glynn's accusations, had shattered at her mother's words.
Mags could only now truly appreciate the weight the words of one of the most influential citizen in Four had on the crowd. Cara was a doctor in all but name, the healer of souls, mender of relationships. She had matched up half the town and counseled the other. No wonder Glynn had never worried about how people saw her, her mother's name made her untouchable. The look of pride on Mr. Corduroy's face as he put his arms around his women made Mags' lips twitch.
"Should I do something?" Marlin said, making her start. She hadn't seen him get close. From the look on his face, he suspected any words of support to his friend could make a difference, but he didn't know where to start.
"Just publicly stand by me," she whispered back.
If Dylana had truly a crush on Yarrow Fisher, she wouldn't step forward, but Mags was already glad the brunette had been standing as far as she could from Douglas's former group and with her family rather than with any new friends she had made. She felt a twinge of sadness as she realized how low her expectations had become. Yet had she wanted better, she should have trusted Dylana before the Games. Solid friendships were not built on lies, months of lies. Marlin was exceptionally forgiving.
Marlin nodded and forced the wariness out of his expression before waving his family over. His brothers and parents hesitated but soon closed the distance between them.
"Strength in packs," Marlin muttered in way of explanation.
His brothers both cracked a smile and Mortimer winked at Mags. He was barely a year older than Marlin and they could have been twins, with the same broad short frames, sandy curls and thick eyebrows. Mags suspected Mortimer knew everything she had ever told Marlin and smiled back.
She turned around as someone else joined their group.
"Angelites, may I walk home with you?"
"Of course, Cara," Angelites said with a genuine smile of surprise.
The auburn-haired woman smiled charmingly and slipped her arm into Angelites'.
"You recruited your Mom?" Mags said in wonder, as a smug-looking Glynn reached her side.
"And my Pa," Glynn said pointedly. "I'm living with them still, they get a say in who I hang out with. Luckily, they're the less self-centered part of my family. You'll note my dearest spoiled half-sisters haven't even come, using as always my nephews as pretexts, and Jett is off chatting up the mayor's daughter, again." Glynn's fond smirk broadened into a self-deprecating grin. "How stupid would I be not to ask my mother to help, Mags? This matters and she has a thousand times the influence I have."
Mags smiled in return, acknowledging her point. Receiving support had never felt so marvelous.
"Did you plan this speaking out thing?" Marlin asked, looking nervous at all the attention they were receiving. Hundreds of pairs of eyes were drilling into them, dissecting them as they passed.
"It was your idea, Marlin," Glynn said, much more relaxed than he was, "Ma just polished it."
Mags turned to her friend, impressed.
The sandy-haired boy furrowed his thick brow. "Mine?"
Glynn chuckled. "This morning, when Mags went to see Kyle. You said that only those who don't like Mags are heard because they're the loudest, so people end up thinking she's much more unpopular than she actually is."
A small smirk drew itself on Marlin's face. He elbowed Mortimer. "Dude, this was my idea. I'm epic."
Mags laughed, feeling the tension of last two days finally evaporate.
After a slight pause, Mags knocked on the wooden door.
A sixteen year old with a mop of ash-blonde hair and laughing hazel eyes soon opened.
"Mags! I, -" Caspian Medes laughed. "Nah, I should have figured you'd turn up. Come in, my Pa's still selling at the market," he said, moving out of the way. "What's up?"
Mags couldn't believe they'd all overlooked the skinny red-faced boy at school. He'd had friends of course, and been generally liked, but he'd been part of the landscape. Some other boys had had a glow, something that had made them popular and surrounded by eager followers and admirers, and most of those were now quite average, their aura gone. Caspian was anything but average, he'd shown the town that things could still improve. Having a working lighthouse had changed everyone's lives. Mags had hesitated at first whether to approach either him or Maris first, but Maris was married and had a dozen orphans to take care of, so Caspian was the logical choice.
"I don't know how things work in Four. I'm realizing I have lots of plans which are based on how I think people are rather than how people truly are. I know most people by face, I know their jobs, but I don't know them, how to get them motivated or to work together. You do."
Mags stopped. She was being very presumptuous. "I mean, first, do you agree with what I'm trying to do?" She said, hating how uncertain she sounded, but she couldn't barge in uninvited in Caspian's home and demand his help without some explanation.
Caspian offered her a glass of water, his smile only broadening. "I think that by the end of the afternoon, I will. Let's talk, the lighthouse was fun, but I'm up for a new challenge," he said, his eyes sparkling with enthusiasm.
Mags stared, slightly stunned. She hadn't expected him to look so... young. It didn't surprise her anymore that no girl had ever managed to ensnare him, he probably didn't even think about dating yet. Then she smiled, inwardly rehearsing the speech her mother had forced her to write the week before to make sure she would know exactly how to explain what she wanted without risking the Capitol's wrath.
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