The Fiction Games

Chapter Nine - From the Chamber

The contents of their bag remained unknown as the Pevensie siblings gradually started to walk through the woods. As the sun began to sink into an blood orange dusk, the trees, basking in afternoon rays, reminded them of their last visit. When they were children.

"Aslan said we'd never return again," Susan recalled. "We were never to come back."

What was she doing before they announced the tournament? Peter thought. Touring America on her honor roll grades, attending high-class parties with sorority girls and dining on porcelain platter. Peter couldn't even recognize her when she came home for the holidays. 

And to her Narnia was already a childish game. 

"He was always mysterious, wasn't he?" asked Peter. 

She glared at him as though he brought up an illogical statement. Susan knew the talking lion once, saw him resurrect from the Stone Table, was crowned Queen of Narnia at Cair Paraval by his purr, even saw him in the crowd during the interviews. She rested her veil of unfamiliarity, suppressing them back into her mind as she always did.

"Which way to the lamppost?" Peter asked, studying his sister's eyes flicker at the memory.

She furrowed her brows. "It was all covered in snow when we came here. A lot has changed since then."

Peter almost laughed aloud. He could say the same thing. "The river must be nearby. Maybe we can have camp at Mr. and Mrs. Beaver's?"

"Lead the way," Susan managed, eyes twinkling of wistfulness.

_________________________________________________________

The chilling night awakened the arena's inhabitants, supplying all corners of the forest with infinite hums to drown out the tributes' footsteps. They have been walking for hours, yet Katniss did not feel the drowsiness her new allies experienced. Tensed on her bow, her eyes darted for something to surface from the wall of darkness.

Rick Grimes found a flashlight in his bag, but even the faint beam couldn't penetrate the thick black out. For all they know they were walking in circle, tracing their steps back into the hands of the Careers.

"We need to make camp," Michonne croaked. "Fast."

Rick Grimes made a full turn. "Fire should keep us warm for the night."

How Katniss wanted to hover over the flames, to melt into a puddle, permanent sleep in a blissful dream. She remembered where she was, who was out there, and what could be tracking their movements.

"No fires," she warned, monotonously. "We are vulnerable to detection."

"Fair enough," Rick agreed. "Wish we picked a bag with a sleeping bag."

Intentionally, it was a joke. But Katniss evaluated her choice at the cornucopia. She disobeyed Haymitch's commands, chose a weapon instead of something she could survive off of, and Peeta was killed in the process.

No, don't mention his name.

"Is here fine?" Michonne asked. Katniss sensed sarcasm in her voice, but it wasn't noted.

"Trees are a better idea," she said. Omitting their glances at each other, Katniss brushed her hands around the bark of a tree. It had some footholds, enough for an experienced climber like her to maintain. Some branches looked sturdy enough to strap onto.

Michonne, waiting for her to shimmy halfway up the tree, whispered to Rick. "Have you ever climbed a tree before."

"No, but it looks easy enough," Rick said.

After many tries and steps Katniss called down to them, Rick and Michonne followed the pathway up the tree and found themselves a strong branch to nestle in. 

"Smart," commented Rick, fastening himself to a bark with his belt.

Katniss Everdeen was above both of them. Where she was positioned, foliage thinned to give a full view of the sky, dotted with thousands of stars. Any minute now the Gamemakers will project today's death count.

 She almost dozed off when the black void illuminated with the Capitol anthem. The seal flashed within seconds, and Cassius Offerman's holograph occupied the sky. Anticipation pumping in her veins, Katniss readjusted her body.

"Hello, tributes of the first annual Game of the Universes," he said dolefully. His famous smile did not plaster across his face like paint on a canvas. "Remarkably, all twenty-four tributes have survived the first day of the Games, which only means more competition for tomorrow. Good luck, and may the odds be ever in your favor."

Katniss nearly toppled over her branch. 

Peeta was alive.

______________________________________________________

Dawn surprised many tributes who slept in several intervals of the night. Every rustle of leaves, snapping of a twig, or squawk of an animal jolted them from slumber. The abyss known as their stomachs screamed for food upon entering the arena.

Annabeth Chase felt as though all the moisture in her body escaped her over night. Percy discovered his girlfriend in a frenzy.

"We need to find water," Annabeth said. 

Percy analyzed their camp. They snuggled under a tree for the night, but as the day progressed, he assumed they'll travel in search for food and water. Now would be perfect to be in disguise; Mist clung to the floor like a cloak.

Annabeth was shaking, dehydrated. "Can't you sense some source of water?"

His eyes fluttered. "Sure, I guess."

Luckily, Percy wrenched a sword from a rack littered around the cornucopia. It wasn't his pen, where he could click it and have it transform into a celestial bronze blade. It was an iron sword much heavier and less mobile.

He closed his eyes, concentrating. Never had he attempted to seek out a body of water with his mind, but considering he could manipulate it to his advantage, it wouldn't be much of a stretch. Could Poseidon contact him in this world? His reign of the seas only bridged so far. 

Percy was moving before he realized it. Annabeth close behind, the two tributes blended with the fog as they marched through the woods. 

Immediately at the sound of rushing water, Annabeth sprinted on her own. Percy groggily pursued.

"Thanks, dad," Percy proclaimed. 

He jumped out of his skin. Mist condensed and stuck to his body. A cannon fired overhead. Percy scurried along the forest, whipping through trunks that eventually began to thin. 

"ANNABETH?" Percy yelled. 

No response. He pushed onward, summoning the rest of his energy to avoid missing a step. His stomach consumed his very organs.

Percy leaped out of the thicket and saw her settled by the river banks, lifeless. 

"Obscuro!"

A blindfold coiled around his eyes, and all Percy could see was black. Suddenly, hands clamped around his arms, he yielded to the force pushing him away from Annabeth. 

And heard a bloodcurdling hiss behind him.