"So you think you want to camp here, then?" Finnick asks.
"I don't think that's an option," Peeta answers. "Staying here. With no water. No protetion. I feel all right, really. If we could just go slowly."
"Slowly would be better than not at all." I say as Finnick helps Peeta to his feets and Katniss pulls herself together.
I check over my weapons, which I know are in perect condition, because it makes me seems more in control. "I'll take the lead," Katniss announces.
Peeta starts to object but Finnick cuts him off. "No, let her do it." He frowns at her. "You knew that force feild was there, didn't you? Right at the last second? You started to give a warning." She nods her head. "How did you know?"
I see her hesitate, thinking back to that day in training when me and her were with Beetee and Wiress and how they taught us the trick of recognizing the force field. I don't know if the Gamemakers made note of that moment during training when two pointed out of us or not. One way or the other, we have a very valuable piece of information. And if they know we have it, they might do something to alter the force field so we can't see the aberration anymore. So Katniss lies. "I don't know. It's almost as if I could hear it. Listen." We all become still. There's the sound of insects, birds, the breeze in the foliage.
"I don't hear anything," says Peeta.
"Yes," she insists, "It's like when the fence around District Twelve is on, only much, much quieter." Everyone listens again intently. I do, too, although there's nothing to hear. "There!" she says. "Can't you hear it? It's coming from right where Peeta got shocked."
"I don't hear it either," says Finnick. "But if you do, by all means take the lead."
She decides to play this for all itt's worth. "That's weird," she says. She turns her head from side to side as if puzzled. "I can only hear it out of my left ear."
"The ones the doctors reconstructed?" asks Peeta.
"Yeah," she says, then gives a shrug. "Maybe they did a better job than they thought. You know, sometimes I do hear funny things on that side. Things you wouldn't ordinarily think have a sound. Like insect wings. Or snow hitting the ground."
I look at Katniss amused. That's a pretty good cover story, that will cause all the blame to the surgeons instead of her. She's smart, I'll give her that.
"You," says Mags, nudging Katniss forward, so she takes the lead. Since we're moving so slowly, Mags prefers to walk with the aid of a branch Finnick quickly fashions into a cane for her. He makes a staff for Peeta as well, which is good becasue I think Peeta really wants to lie down. Finnick brings up the rear, with me right in front of him.
Katniss walks with the force field on her left, because that's supposed to be the side with her superhuman ear. I see her cut down a bunch of hard nuts that hang like grapes from a nearby tree and toss them ahead of her as we go. It's good she does, too, because I have a feeling that we're missing the patches that indicate the force field more often than we're spotting them. Whenever a nut hits the force field, there's a puff of smoke before the nut lands, blackened and with a cracked shell, on the ground at her feet.
After a few minutes I become aware of the smacking sound in front of me and turn my attention to see Mags peeling the shell off one of the nuts and popping it in her already full mouth. "Mags!" I cry. "Spit that out. It could be poisonous."
She mumbles something and ignores me, licking her lips with apparent relish. I look to Finnick for help but he just laughs. "I guess we'll find out," he says.
I keep walking, as Katniss turns around and continues to throw nuts. I sometimes catch a glimpse of the force field, trying to press to the left to find a spot where we can break through, get away from the Cornucopia, and hopefully find water. But after another hour or so of this, I reallize it's futile. We're not making any progress to the left. In fact, the force field seems to be herding us along a curved path. I stop and see Mags in front of me limping, the sweat on Peeta's face. "Let's take a break," Katniises says. "I need to get another look from above."
As Katniss starts to climb up one of the tallest trees around us, I take a seat at the base of it. I bring my hand up to my face and wipe away a layer of sweat before letting out a sigh. I can only hope that Nolan is okay, I don't think I can handle it if he dies. He has becomes a father figure to me, and I don't want to see him die.
Finnick sets Mags down at a tree next to me and then he makes his way over to me. "How are you doing?" He asks.
Taking a seat next to me, I instantly lean over on him without even thinking. "I'm okay, I guess." I reply honestly. I don't really feel anything, I guess I have become numb to it all to block out all of the pain that awaits me. Either I'm going to see all my friends die, or I will die a horrible death, either why it's going to be painful. "What about you?" I ask him, tilting my head to look up at him.
I feel him take a deep breath, "I could be better." he says after a long moment. It quite for awhile and I listen to the birds sing and the wind blow. The wind blows past me, and although the air is warm, the wind feels nice. "There's something I've been meaning to tell you." Finnick says and I sit up straight and look at him.
I'm not sure why, but my mind begins to think the worst. Like maybe he doesn't want to be my friend anymore, or maybe he's reported all the things I've said about the Capitol to the president. "What is it?" I whisper, not trusting myself to speak above that because I am almost certain the cameras are on us.
Just as he is about to answer Katniss is back down on the ground. "The force field has us trapped in a circle. A dome, really. I don't know how high it goes. There's the Cornucopia, the sea, and then the jungle all around. Very exact. Very symmetrical. And not very large," she says causing me and Finnick to stand up.
"Did you see any water?" I ask her.
"Only the saltwater where we started the Games," she answers.
"There must be some other source," says Peeta, frowning. "Or we'll all be dead in a matter of days."
"Well, the foliage is thick. Maybe there are ponds or springs somewhere," Katniss says doubtfully. I feel like the Capitol might want these Games to be over as soon as possible. Plutarch Heavensbee might have already given the orders to knock us off. "At any rate, there's no point in trying to find out what's over the edge of this hill, because the answer is nothing."
"There must be drinkable water between the force field and the wheel." Peeta insists. We all know what this means. Heading back down. Heading back to the Careers and the bloodshed. With Mags hardly able to walk and Peeta too weak to fight.
We decide to move down the slope a few hundred yards and continue circling. See if maybe there's some water at that level. I stay in the back, with Katniss leading, occasionally she will chunk a nut to her left, but we're well out of range of the force field now. The sun beats down on us, turning the air to steam, playing tricks on our eyes. By midafternoon, it's clear Peeta and Mags can't go on.
Finnick chooses a campsite about ten yards below the force field, saying we can use it as a weapon by deflecting our enemies into it if attacked. Then he and Mags pull blades of the sharp grass that grows in five-foot-high tufts and begin to weave them together into mats. Since Mags seems to have no ill effects from the nuts, Peeta collects bunches of them and fires them by bouncing them off of the force field. He methodically peels off the shells, piling the meats on a leaf. Katniss stands guard left, fidgeting and hot and raw with emotions while I stand gaurd on the right, worrying about what Finnick was going to say and about my friends.
"Finnick, why don't you stand guard with Ember and I'll go hunt around some more for water," Katniss says. No one's thrilled with the idea of her going off alone, but the threat of dehydration hangs over us. "Don't worry, I won't go far." She promises Peeta.
I watch as she moves stealthily through the trees, I watch the trees long after she is gone. My eyes scan for any movement, but see nothing, not even animals.
The sound of the cannon brings me to a halt. The intial bloodbath at the Cornucopia must be over. The death toll of the tributes is now avaiable. I count the shots, each representing one dead victor. Six. Not as many as last year. But it seems like more since I know most of their names.
Suddenly weak, I lean against a tree to rest, feeling the heat draw the moisture from my body like a sponge. Already, swallowing is difficult and fatigue is creeping up on me. In my stillness, I begin to notice the animals, strange birds with brillant plumage, tree lizards with flickering blue tongues, and something that looks like a cross between a rat and a possum clinging on the branches close to the trunk.
From beside me I see Finnick get up and start grabbing some of the grass. Handing some of them to Mags, the two of them get to work on building a hut. I sit back and watch, not sure how they do what they do. I watch them tie knot after knot and form mats and walls with the grass and leaves.
Eventually Katniss arrives back and when she does, the huts that Finnick and Mags are making are done. They have created a hut out of the grass mats, open on one side but with three wals, a floor, and a roof. Mags has aso plaited several bowls that Peeta has filled with roasted nuts. Everyone looks up at Katniss in hopes that she has discovered a water source. But with the shake of her head she confirms that she hasn't. "No, no water. It's out there, though. He knew where it was," she says, hoisting the skinned rodent up for all of us to see. "He'd been drinking recently when I shot him out of the tree, but I couldn't find his source. I swear, I covered every inch of ground in a thirty-yard radius."
"Can we eat him?" Peeta asks.
"I don't know for sure. But his meat doesn't look that different from a squirrel's. He ought to be cooked..." I see her hesitate as she tries to start a fire out here from complete scratch. Even if she succeeded, there's the smoke to think about. We're all so close together in this arena, there's no chance of hiding it.
But then a thought hits me. I take a cube of the roden meat and skewer it on the tip of a pointed stick, and I let it fall into the force field. There's a sharp sizzle and the stick flies back. The chunk of meat is blackened on the outside but well cooked inside. Everyone gives me a round of applause, then quickly stops, remembering where we are.
The white sun in the rosy sky as we gather in the hut. I'm still leery of the nuts, but Finnick says Mags recongized them from another Games. I didn't bother spending time at the edible-plants station in training becuase it was so effortless for me before. Now I wish I had. For surely there would have been some of the unfamiliar plants surrounding me. And I might have guessed a bit more about where I was headed. Mags seems fine, though, and she's been eating the nuts for hours. So I pick one up and take a small bite. It has a mild, slightly sweet flavor that reminds me of a chestnut. I decide it's all right.
The rodent is strong and gamey but surprisingly juicy.. Really, it's not a bad meal for our first night in the arena. If only we had something to wash it down with.
Finnick asks a lot of questions about the roden, which we decide to call a tree rat. How high was it, how long did Katniss watch it before she shot it, and what was it doing?
I'm dreading the night. At least the tightly woven grass offers some protection from whatever slinks across the jungle floor after hours. But a short time before the sun slips below the horizon, a pale white moon rises, making things just visible enough. We position ourselves in a line at the mouth of the hut.
The sky brightens when the seal of the Capitol appears as if floating in space. As I listen to the strains of the anthem I wonder if it's harder for Finnick and Mags than it is for me to look at the faces in the sky. Seeing the faces of the six dead victors porjected in the sky.
The man from District 5, the one Finnick took out with his trident, is the first to appear. That means that all the tributes in 1 through 4 are alive — the four Careers, Beetee and Wiress, and of course, Mags and Finnick. The man from District 5 is followed by the male morphling from 6, Cecelia and Woof from 8. I'm relieved to not see Nolan's face up there, meaning that he is still alive somewhere. The woman from 10 is next and then Seeder from 11. The Capitol seal is back with a final bit of music and then the sky goes dark except for the moon.
No one speaks, I can't pretend that I knew them personally, only talked to a few. Never really friends with them. But all of them are dead. All gone.
I don't know how long we might have sat here if it weren't for the arrival of the silver parachute, which glides down through the foliage to land before us. No one reaches for it.
"Whose is it, do you think?" I say finally.
"No telling," says Finnick. "Why don't we let Peeta claim it, since he died today?"
Peeta unties the cord and flattens out the circle of silk. On the parachute sits a small metal object that I can't place. "What is it?" I ask. No one knows. We pass it from hand to hand, taking turns examining it. It's a hollow metal tube, tapered slightly at one end. On the other a small lip curves downward. It's vaguely familiar. A part that could have fallen off a bicycle, a curtain rod, anything, really.
Peeta blows on one end to see if it makes a sound. It doesn't. Finnick slides his pinkie into it, testing it out as a weapon. Useless.
"Can you fish with it, Mags?" Katniss asks. Mags, who can fish with almost anything, shakes her head and grunts.
Katniss takes it and rolls it back and forth on her palm. She passes it to me and I know that Willow will be working with Distrtict 4 and 12 since I am teamed up with them. That means that she had a hand in choosing this gift, meaning that is valuable. Lifesaving even.
I wipe the sweat from my eyes and hold the gift out in the moonlight. I move it this way and that, viewing it from different angles, covering portions and then revealing them. Trying to make it divulge its purpose to me. Finally, in frustration, I jam one end into the dirt. "I give up. Maybe if we hook up with Beetee or Wiress they can figure it out."
I stretch out, pressing my hot cheek on the grass mat, staring at the thing in aggravation. Peeta rubs a tense spot on Katniss's shoulders and I let myself relax alittle, reminding myself that I'm not alone. I woner why this place hasn't cooled off at all now that the sun's gone down. I wonder what's going on back home.
Suddenly Katniss bolts upright, "A spile!" she exclaims, causing me to jump and sit up as well as everyone else.
"What?" asks Finnick.
She wrestles the thing from the ground and brushes it clean. She cups her hand around the tapered end, concealing it, and looks at the lip. "It's a spile. Sort of like a faucet. You put it in a tree and sap comes out." She looks at the sinewy gren trunk around us. "Well, the right sort of tree."
"Sap?" I ask.
We're all on our feet at once. Our thirst. The lack of springs. The tree rat's sharp front teerth and wet muzzle. There can only be one thing worth having inside these trees. Finnick goes to hammer the spile into the green bark of a massive tree with a rock, but Katniss stops him. "Wait. You might damage it. We need to drill a hole first," she says.
There's nothing to drill with, so Mags offers her awl and Peeta dives it straight into the bark, burying the spike two inches deep. He and Finnick take turns opening up the hole with the awl and the knives until it can hold the spile. I wedge it carefully and we all stand back in anticipation.
At first nothing happens. Then a drop of water rolls down the lips and lands on Mag's palm. She licks it off and holds out her hands for more.
By wiggling and adjusting the spile, we get a thick stream running out. We take turns holding our mouths under the tap, wetting out parched tongues. Mags brings over a basket, and the grass is so tightly woven it holds water. We fill the basket and pass it around, taking deep gulps and, later, luxuriously, splashing our faces clean. Like everything here, the water's on the warm side, but this is no time to be picky.
Without our thirst to district us, we're all aware of how exhausted we are and make preparations for the night. Katniss takes the spile from the tree trunk and a strip of vine and threads it through the hollow center and ties the spile securly to her belt. Finnick offers to take the first watch and I let him. I lie down next to Mags. I fall alseep rather quickly and am not woken up again until I hear what sounds like the tolling of a bell. Bong! Bong! It's not exactly like the one they ring in the Justice Building on New Year's but close enough for me to reconize it. Peeta and Mags sleep thrrough it, but Finnick has the same look of attentiveness I feel. The tolling stops.
"I counted twelve," he says. Katniss nods her head. Twelve. What does that signify? One ring for each district? Maybe? But why?
"Does that mean anything, do you think?"
"No idea," he says.
We wait for further instructions, maybe a message from Cladius Templesmith. An invistation to a feast. The only thing that does appear in the distance. A drizzling bolt of electricity strikes a towering tree and then a lighening storm begins. I guess it's an indication of rain, of a water source for those who don't have sponsors like we do.
"Go to sleep, Ember, Finnick. It's my turn to watch, anyways," Katniss says.
I hesitate, but no one can stay awake forever. I settle down at the mouth of the hut next to Finnick. One of his hands grip his trident and we drift off into a restless sleep.
The sound of a cannon maybe an hour or so later wakes me. Everyone else seems to not notice it, but I'm awake now. I stand up and sit next to Katniss. None of us say anything, just sit there and stare into the dark woods. Another victor is dead. I don't allow myself to wonder who it is.
The elusive rain shuts off suddenly, like the storm did last year in the arena.
Moments after it stops, I see the fog sliding softly in from the direction of the recent downpour. "Just a reaction. Cool rain on the steaming ground." Katniss says softly, mostly to herself, but I nod my head. That makes sense. It continues to approach at a steady pace. Tendrils reach forward and then curl like fingers, as if they are pulling the rest behind them. As I watch, I feel the hairs on my neck begin to rise. Soemthing is wrong with the fog.
Looking over at Katniss and can tell that she feels it too. The progression of the front line is too uniform to be natural. And if it's not natural...
A sickening sweet odor begins to invade my nostrils and I reach for the other, shouting for them to wake up, Katniss doing the same.
In the few seconds it takes to rouse them, I begin to blister.