FIGHTING FIRE | The Capitol Games

IV. Mutiny, Mutiny

Training was okay. There really wasn't a better word for it.

Themis was surprisingly strong despite such a small frame, with quick reflexes and a quicker mind. But it didn't take long for Petronius to find that she wasn't at all gifted in weapons. Her sight and depth perception were poor — Petronius found her rubbing her forehead multiple times, her eyes clenched shut, and wondered if there was something wrong with her eyes. She had those three metal piercings around the outside of each eye, so maybe those were causing it, or were some sort of medical technology that wasn't working well.

Whatever it was, it didn't serve her well in the training stations. She had the upper body strength of a gymnast, so she should've been good at archery, but she couldn't hit a man-sized target from ten meters. Weapons like swords and spears were a no-go; she tended to underestimate the distance between herself and her sparring partner and would end up stumbling forward right into the practice blade.

Those were the only bases they were able to cover before people started to really watch. Normally, newbies attracted side glances and leers from passerby, but as the morning dragged on and lunch approached, the tributes started to get hungry and bored of training. By eleven o'clock, the entire rich kids' crew was loitering at the rest area by the water cooler, with various other tributes milling pointlessly around. All of them were passing glances to the new kid.

Petronius and Themis had just finished up at agility and were both out of breath, Themis rather bruised from some jumps gone wrong. But as they passed through the rest area on the way to the water cooler, both realized that a good deal of the conversation at the rest area had gone quiet.

The rich kids — Electra, Lucio, Julius, Claudia, Ovidus, and Rosemarie — were looking at them intently. Not villainously, just intently. Naturally, Petronius decided that the best course of action was to lighten the mood.

"Hey, guys," he said. "Mind if we sit?"

They passed wary glances around. "Go for it," Electra finally said. Petronius knew her well from school; they had been in a lot of the same classes. She was thin and very pretty, even though her lash extensions were gone and her blue hair had washed out into a patchy, bleach-damaged auburn. She was curled up almost in the lap of Lucio, who had somehow managed to keep his alabaster white head shaven to show off his snake tattoos.

Petronius tactfully avoided Lucio, Julius, and Claudia, a.k.a. the ones most likely to beat him up, and instead sat on the floor by the water cooler. Themis gingerly followed suit.

"That's the new kid," said Lucio.

"No shit, Sherlock," Electra replied.

"Hey, kid," said Claudia, a frightening girl with a buzz cut and the body of a wrestler. "What family you from?"

"Obviously, the Gossamer family," Julius muttered.

"Wow!" Electra cried. "We're all so smart today!"

Julius glared. If Petronius was Electra, he wouldn't be so keen to piss Julius off because Julius resembled a bull with a fade and gold earrings. "Fuck off, El."

"Yeah, fuck off," Claudia chimed. Ovidus, one of those deliberately edgy and silent types, said "heh" and kept paring his dirty fingernails with a knife.

Someone else cleared her throat. It was Rosemarie, sitting straight-backed in her chair. She looked very out-of-place among the rest of the crew — petite and small, her healthy brown hair tied in a simple braid, her skin unmarked and unpierced. But when she coughed, her peers all fell silent.

"What they mean is, why are you here," she said. "Why are you a tribute?"

Themis shrunk minutely. But everyone was watching and waiting. "I killed someone," she replied.