SONG: The Craft by Belako
Having come to the understanding that they would stay together at least for the first few days, Iris and her allies had spent much of the final training session coming up with a plan as they trained.
Iris already knew what their best shot at surviving was - to get supplies and run like hell. Kasia, however, did not agree, and not for the first time, Iris found herself doubting the stability of her alliance. "We go halfway to the Cornucopia. Grab what we can, and split – "
"No," Kasia interrupted. "No way. I'm not going anywhere near the Cornucopia. I'll grab whatever's in front of me, but that's it."
"Well, someone has to help me – " Iris began to protest, but Christopher cut her off.
"Stop. You two don't need anythin' else to argue about. Kasia, that's fine. Grab what you can, and go. Iris and me'll go further in for backpacks. We'll watch each other's backs. That's alright. It'll work."
Iris rolled her eyes. She knew Kasia didn't really care, and was just arguing with her for the sake of it. "Fine. Whatever. Kasia, try to grab something, at least."
Kasia raised her voice. "I already said, I'll grab whatever's in front-"
"Stop it," Christopher said in a sing-song voice. "Stop. Shut up."
Iris huffed. "Okay. Fine. Me and Christopher go in and grab stuff, Kasia runs, we meet in the north and keep running til we collapse."
"And what then?" Christopher said.
Iris shrugged. "I guess we should stay together at least the first night, that's when the Careers like to hunt."
"Sounds good to me," Kasia said. Iris looked at her with surprise – it was the first time the girl from Nine had agreed to anything she said so quickly.
"So we all agree on somethin' for once. Good. That's what we'll do," Christopher said.
"Same plan if someone dies?" Kasia asked bluntly. If there was one thing Iris liked about Kasia, it was that she got straight to the point. She didn't care about upsetting people, and she didn't want to waste time.
Iris nodded. "Yeah. Can't see why not."
"No one's going to die."
Kasia laughed cruelly. "Someone's going to die eventually, Christopher, that's kind of why we're here."
"Yeah. I know. But we need to keep hopeful. We're all goin' to get through the blood bath just fine."
Iris rolled her eyes. She admired Christopher for his optimistic outlook, but it was hard to bear this close to the beginning of the Games. Hope was all well and good, but not when she was faced with the very real possibility of her death. It was hard to stay hopeful when she knew the odds weren't on her side. It was hard to stay hopeful knowing that she would soon be leaving Jordie alone in the world. She preferred to push it out of her mind and focus on the here and the now. There wasn't any point in dwelling on the future when it was uncertain she'd have a future for much longer.
"What trainin' score are ya'll goin' for?" Christopher asked, wiping the gravy off his plate with a piece of bread.
Kasia shrugged. "Hopefully nothing lower than a six."
"Same, I guess. Maybe a seven."
"It doesn't matter, anyway. The Careers will get tens, as usual, and everyone else will look pathetic. It's the same every year. It's not going to change anytime soon."
Iris found herself agreeing with Kasia, however silently. Maybe there was some merit to being hopeful. Maybe staying hopeful did make her feel better, for a second or so. But then reality sunk in. She would die soon, probably painfully and traumatically, and Jordie would be alone and would probably take Iris' spot working for Boris, and he'd probably die early at the hands of a Peacekeeper. Thinking about all that – despite trying not to dwell on the future – made worrying about training scores seem stupid. Numbers didn't matter in the arena.
/
Axel was silent next to her. He seemed, if possible, even smaller and paler than he had a few days ago. By now, the last traces of morphling were out of his body. He hadn't taken the withdrawal well. He didn't seem to remember Iris punching him – by now, the bruise she had left on his face had gone, thanks to Capitol medicine. Pomponia had been dabbing the bruise with anti-bruise cream and in under two days it had disappeared completely. Iris bitterly thought of how much her mother had suffered in her final days – she could have been healed in seconds if the Capitol shared its medicine to the districts. Knowing her mother didn't have to die was almost worse than the pain of losing her.
Recently, Iris had noticed her thoughts turning to her mother more than they had for months. Perhaps her own mortality and possible impending doom had her thinking of her mother's death. Maybe I'll see her soon, Iris thought. The idea was strangely comforting, and made Iris feel slightly better in some morbid way.
It felt like they were waiting forever and five seconds at the same time. Iris watched as the Careers disappeared one by one, and then the kids from Five… and then it was her turn. As she stood up, she met Kasia's gaze. The girl from Nine gave her a subtle nod, her jaw set resolutely. Iris wondered what she was thinking about.
She was at a disadvantage, being one of the middle districts. Everyone knew that the Gamemakers remembered first and last best. Maybe it was lucky she wouldn't stand out, but she didn't want to be forgettable. She just had to be better than the person immediately before and the person immediately after – with any luck, the boy from Five had been terrible, because she already knew Axel was going to be atrocious. So at least she had that on her side.
She allowed herself to take in the room. There was a trainer at every weapon section, presumably to demonstrate sparring skills. The survival stations were all empty, but it was obvious that one of the tributes before her had done knots, because there was a disastrous-looking net discarded on the floor. One of the kids from Five had probably tried and failed to emulate the District Four skill. She would have felt bad for them if it didn't work in her favour.
Without hesitation she walked to the blunt weapons section. The trainer there wasn't Hera, and she tried not to let her disappointment show on her face – she knew that Hera would have helped make her look better than she actually was. After testing the weight of a few flails, she selected one with a polished wooden handle and a vicious-looking silver ball at the end. The trainer nodded at her, and picked up a double-edged sword. "Tell me when you're ready," he said.
She risked a glance over at the Gamemakers – only a few of them were actively watching, most of them distracted with side conversations and food. Iris held onto the anger this sparked, and turned to the trainer. He was small and skinny, and didn't look much older than her.
Taking a deep breath, she nodded at the trainer. "Ready."
He didn't wait around, and lunged towards her, swinging the sword at her face. Iris stepped out of the way and blocked the blow with the handle of the flail, taking the brunt of the blow. The trainer stumbled; his centre of gravity thrown off by her block. She took advantage of this and stepped to the side, swinging the silver ball around, and was just about to make a blow of her own when he rolled out of her way. She had only seconds to turn around before he was attacking again, a quick flurry of jabs she only barely managed to block. Iris feinted to the right before jumping to the left, and for one precious second, he left himself open – she took advantage of this and swung. The silver ball collided with his sword, knocking it out of his hand. It clattered across the floor, and he lunged for it.
Iris knew she couldn't let that happen. She somehow managed to kick it away, swinging the silver ball to the ground. He rolled out of the way just in time, and the silver ball connected with the ground where his head had been only seconds before. He raised his arms, signalling defeat, and Iris grinned triumphantly.
Dropping the flail, she offered him a hand, which he took gratefully. She glanced at the Gamemakers – there were at least two who looked impressed. The rest of them either weren't watching or looked slightly less bored than they did before, but Iris was pleased that she'd managed to get the attention of at least a few of them. Besides, her session wasn't over yet – there was still time for her to demonstrate a few more skills. Setting down the flail, she picked up a club, and looked at the trainer. "Again," she said, and he nodded.
This time she was better prepared for his fighting style – he was quick and wily, like a fox, dodging around her blows and sneaking up behind. Iris thought it was a strange way to fight considering the heft of his weapons – it seemed like he would be more suited to short swords or daggers. But it seemed to work for him. This time, she was more on the offense – she need to attack rather than block, push him backward rather than jump out of the way. The club was easy to fight with, but lacked the flair and impact of the flail. The Gamemakers had been much more interested in her when she was using the flail, but she knew she had to show that she was capable with more than one weapon.
For the rest of her session, the Gamemakers looked bored, but at least they were watching her.
/
Pomponia grilled her on her session the second she stepped inside the penthouse. "How did it go?" She descended on Iris like a multi-coloured bird of prey, fluttering around Iris anxiously, herding her towards the couch and pressing a glass of water into her hand somehow all at the same time.
"Good," Iris said, taking a large drink of water, "I think." She wiped her mouth and burped, knowing it would annoy her escort/mentor.
Pomponia gave her a disapproving look but said nothing. "What did you show them?"
"Flail, club, mace, hand-to-hand combat. Didn't have time for anything else, but I did well sparring so –"
"And how did they react? Did they react? Did they talk to you?"
"They didn't react, but they were watching me, at least. No-one talked to me. Why? Are they meant to talk to me?"
"Not usually. But did they seem pleased?"
"I told you," Iris said, swallowing her mouthful of pasta. She had taken to pasta like a fish to water, and had been eating it in between meals to bulk up as much as she could before the Games. "They didn't seem anything. They were just watching."
"Well, at least they were watching."
Haylee walked into the room. "You're probably an enigma to them, considering most of our tributes are pathetic wastes of life." She shot a look at Axel as she said this, and Iris felt a fresh burst of rage at the Victor's cruelty.
"Oh, like you're not," she sneered. Haylee's constant digs towards her own tributes were grating on Iris – of course it wasn't entirely Haylee's fault that District Six never won, but Haylee was a complete failure as a mentor, so she had to take some of the blame.
"Never said I wasn't," Haylee said. "But at least I'm not pretending."
"What do you mean, pretending?"
"I don't have tit surgery or nose surgery or pretend to be someone I'm not. I'm not pretending like my life is amazing like those goddamn prisses from One. I'm not – "
"-good at your job?" Iris suggested.
Haylee glared at her. "My point is that I would rather be a bad mentor than a stuck up, snobby bitch."
"If we could get back to our conversation, please, Haylee," Pomponia said pointedly, "which was our tribute."
"My tribute. You're just the escort."
"She is as good as mine considering you do not show any interest."
"Oh my god shut up," Iris groaned. "Haylee, no-one likes you and you smell like eggs. Pomponia, just ignore her."
Haylee rolled her eyes and left the room.
"How have you put up with her for so long?"
Pomponia sighed, and sat down on the armchair across from Iris. "I ask myself that same question every day."
/
Iris, Axel and Pomponia sat down for an early dinner before the announcement of the training scores. Iris thought she would have felt a lot more nervous about hers, but she found out she didn't really care that much. She knew they were good for sponsors, but really, she wouldn't get sponsors no matter what her score was if the Careers were still alive. Nobody in their right mind would choose to sponsor a plain, rude girl from Six, even if she had volunteered.
Axel didn't say much about his session. "Camouflage," was all he said when Pomponia inquired. Iris could see some sort of red mud underneath his fingernails. Axel wasn't going to make it long enough to use camouflage in the arena, Iris was sure of it. Still, she would be interested in learning more about camouflage. It was one of the things she regretted not doing more of during training.
Haylee had not joined them for dinner, but she did venture from her room when the training scores were announced, significantly drunker than she had been when Iris returned from her session.
The Careers all received predictably high scores. All four of the kids from Three and Five had matching scores of four. And then it was Iris' turn. Her photo stared at her glumly from the screen, and she held her breath before a seven appeared in front of her face.
To her surprise, she was disappointed. She knew that she deserved at least an eight – she felt cheated. "You are not happy with that," Pomponia observed.
"No," Iris admitted. "I think I should have gotten higher."
Axel's face flashed onto the screen, a two appearing next to him. Everyone ignored this, even Axel, who was picking miserably at the skin around his nails. "They probably scaled you down because you're from Six."
"I thought they would have scaled me up considering I'm better than every other Six tribute that's ever been."
Haylee scoffed. "Not the best."
"Oh yeah?" Iris said. She looked around the room and crossed her arms. "Where's our other mentors then?"
Haylee scowled at her. "You haven't won yet, Iris."
"I think that's the first time you've ever used my name."
"I'm just saying. Don't be so cocky. You're not the most talented, you're not beautiful, and the Capitol audience doesn't care if you're smart. You're not the most interesting tribute to grace the screen and although you're better than the average District Six tribute you're nothing special." It was the most Haylee had ever said to her, and Iris was offended that the first time Haylee had given her any real advice was to insult her.
She scowled, and crossed her arms. "Whatever." She didn't want to admit it, but Haylee's words had cut deep. She had been trying to believe she was better than she was. Confidence was good, but she didn't want to be delusional. "I'm going to bed."
"Oh no," Haylee said sarcastically. "We'll miss you so much."
"Suck my dick, Haylee," Iris snapped, slamming the door behind her.
She didn't care about stupid fucking Haylee. She knew she could win and she was going to try despite the fact that almost everyone expected her to fail.
Truth was, Iris was terrified. She'd spent the past few days pretending that she wasn't, hoping to trick herself into a false sense of confidence. It had worked a bit, but reality had sunk in – no-one really wanted her to win. Not genuinely. Except Jordie. Haylee didn't care, Pomponia probably just wanted a promotion, and the Capitol would never choose to sponsor her over someone prettier, someone smarter, someone better than her. Getting a good training score was essentially the only thing setting her apart from all the other pathetic non-Careers, and a seven wasn't anything exceptional. Better than average for District Six, sure, but nothing interesting in the scheme of things.
She knew that she would have to help herself. If she wanted Jordie to grow up with a family.
She couldn't sleep that night. She realised that in her discontent she hadn't waited around to see Kasia and Christopher's scores – she hoped they didn't do any better than her. She needed to have the best score in their alliance. If she couldn't stand out amongst the rest of the tributes, she at least needed to stand out from them.