SEVEN -
Sidonia guides us up to our temporary new home with words spilling from her mouth that I can barely make sense of. Brutus has to give Hadley a quick shove on course before he tears his eyes away from the corner of the stables, and I find myself looking back at the District 12 tributes, and Sidonia's intoxicated friend with rage brewing in my chest.
My mentor was right – we were upstaged. Now Sidonia and Brutus will have even more work do to secure us sponsors. At least until the actual Games begin and the Capitol's new favourite ends up with an axe in her throat. She may look pretty, dressed up in fancy flames, but when it comes down it, will a girl from 12 be able to survive the initial bloodbath which normally occurs at the cornucopia during the first day. Something tells me its pretty unlikely.
The thought sets my mind at ease as we ride the elevator up to the second floor.
Tallulah is waiting to welcome us from the parade, arms outstretched in greeting. "Well I say the two of you were marvellous out there tonight!" She praises, ushering us into a large and garishly decorated apartment. Floor to ceiling windows cover one side, opening out to a view of the Capitol's glittering streets. A giant screen hangs on the adjacent wall, in front of which are grouped a selection of bright purple couches and pouffes, and a crystal dining table set for five stands on a raised platform in the centre of the room. More Avoxes, like those on the train, are stationed around the apartment at our service.
Hadley and I are sent off to our rooms to change out of our opening ceremony garb before we eat, and I opt for a simple black blouse and a pair of matching pants not unlike the ones I discovered on the train. When I loosen the braids from my hair, I'm left with the usual dark brown tangle, which I pull back into a feasible bun.
My eyes snag on to my sister's pendant again in the mirror, and I wonder what she made of the ceremony tonight. It's likely she got to watch it, most of the usual work carried out in the Districts is relaxed during Games month, and updates are even televised in the schools. If she went to the Academy today, did any of the other kids discuss it? Was she proud to let them know that the girl representing the District this year is her big sister?
By the time I make it to the dining table, everybody else has already started eating. Dishes are brought out by the Avoxes, platters loaded with meaty stews and bowls of rainbow soups and broths. Sidonia is downing glasses of rich red wine quicker than is probably necessary as she talks us through the next steps of the plan.
The Training Centre is where we will stay until the Games begin at the end of the week. Hadley and I will spend three days with the rest of the tributes, honing our skills in the basement studio. This time is the perfect opportunity for us to examine the field and take our pick of potential allies. I seem to have already made an impression on the blonde girl from 1 and her District partner, and I'm well aware Hadley has been eyeing up the huge dark-skinned boy from 11.
At the end of the third day, we will each have the chance to perform a private display of our talents to the Gamemakers. These will give us our scores, helping to convince sponsors to join our cause once we are in the arena. Most career tributes usually score between eight and eleven, but the latter is almost impossible, so much so that the last person to scrape one was in a Hunger Games almost two decades ago.
And that person just happened to be Darius Hadley. Every Hadley since then has managed at least a nine, so the pressure is on for my District partner to live up to the family name. Not that I doubt he'll manage it in any way. I've been watching the boy swing swords and launch spears across the Academy since I was eight years old, and I would never bet on him missing a target.
And I doubt he would bet on me missing one, either.
"So, when the two of you get down to the training room tomorrow, start scouting out the members of your pack." Says Sidonia, spearing another piece of pie with her fork. "There's not a chance in hell of you coming across as a weakling, Cato, so show them what you're made of."
When Hadley nods in amused agreement, Sidonia turns to me. " We could try to play that angle with you but no doubt you'd fuck it up within a millisecond of getting your hands on a knife. Again, let the rest of the players know exactly what they're up against."
She's right, of course. As much as it's a strategy proven to work – a girl from District 7 pulled it off spectacularly a couple of years back, playing the damsel in distress right up until the moment she acquired an axe – such a test of my self-control would likely backfire.
And when it comes down to it, what girl with no talents for the arena would whip up a battle cry like I did tonight at the ceremony.
The majority of us are exhausted after the busy evening, so Hadley, Brutus, Tallulah, and I head to our rooms whilst Sidonia disappears into the elevator to join the other mentors and former victors who are visiting the Capitol, for more wine downstairs. I am wondering whether the woman is planning on giving herself alcohol poisoning before the week is out as I make my way down the corridor to bed.
The room they've prepared for me is lushly decorated, like the one on the tribute train, but the furniture is sleek grey and the walls dusty violet. I strip down to my underwear and pull out a mismatched pair of silky pyjamas before I slide under the covers. The duvet is thick and warm, and I fall asleep almost instantly.
When I dream, I dream of the pictures from history class. Cato Hadley and I in our parade costumes with our weapons raised, the stands cheering us on as the blood of our adversaries colours the sands red.
° ° ° ° °
I wake to Sidonia rapping loudly on my bedroom door and obviously shrieking through the gaps in the hinges. "Rise and shine, Clove! Let's not be let for training!"
I slide out of bed, still half asleep and rubbing my eyes as my feet carry me to the en suite bathroom. There are so many buttons on the shower its takes me at least ten minutes to set it to a decent temperature, but the refreshing flow of the water on my skin helps to wake me up. I stand idle beneath the spray for longer than necessary, experimenting with the multiple soap settings until the bathroom is hazy with steam. I step out of the cubicle and into the path of a dozen tiny jets which dry me head to toe. Even my usually wild hair has been tamed, straight and soft against my skin.
It seems one of the Avoxes has laid out a training uniform for me whilst I was in the bathroom. A simple black polo shirt, trimmed in scarlet with a large number 2 emblazoned across the black, is folded on the bed, along with a pair of tight black pants and lightweight boots. They are nothing like the soft leather ones that have taken me to and from the Academy every day since I was a kid, not moulded to every curve of my feet, but they will have to do.
I dress quickly and pull my hair into a ponytail before heading out to breakfast. By some miracle, Sidonia looks perfectly well, no trace of the hangover I expected would be fuzzing her brain this morning. In fact, she is probably more awake than the rest of us and dressed in a similar sleek pantsuit to the one she wore at the Reaping back in 2. All black, as per usual.
Her unexpectedly chipper mood seems to have put a dampener on the breakfasting crowd, who are chomping at plates of bacon and eggs and toast with bright orange preserves, barely exchanging a word with each other. Only Tallulah appears pleased by her demeanour.
Sidonia waves me over. "Nice of you to show up, Kentwell." She says as I take my place at the table beside Hadley. I begin to serve myself from the array of dishes, the Avoxes bustling around us to remove plates that are finished with.
Meanwhile, Brutus runs us through the day's agenda, starting with our training session this morning. He hasn't said much at all since we arrived here in the Capitol, and I'm almost surprised to hear his sudden enthusiasm when it comes to us showing off our skills. "The cameras will be running the whole time, so make sure you let the people see how good you are today. If potential allies want to pick up the basics of a new skill, help them out if you know what you're doing. And be wary of the underliers – we don't want another Johanna Mason incident." That was the name of the girl from 7, overlooked as useless until they realised she was deadly. And by that point it was already too late.
But I'm not so on board with the idea of being a teacher. In truth, I don't really fancy sharing my knives with anybody. Back in 2, I was the only talented knife thrower in the Academy, and anybody who tried to step on my toes eventually ended up moving to a new discipline after they realised my skill level was untouchable. Xavier said himself enough times that I was the first true knife graduate he'd taught in years, and perhaps without them I wouldn't have the chance to be as lethal as I know I am now.
Most of the other girls the Academy teaches are bigger than me, and I struggled badly for the first couple of years, before we were streamlined into individual disciplines. The hand-to-hand battles used to build our strength during the early grades were difficult, because I was far too small and too light to gain any grip on the girls who towered over me, even at eight years old.
By the time I reached nine, I was afraid they were going to throw me out, to tell me that the journey to glory I'd been dreaming of since I was a kid was too far out of reach to ever become a reality. I was mocked and ridiculed for my size and my low rankings, which were always plastered across the noticeboards in the hallways to make everybody push harder in classes. We are a proud lot. And as a District know for its superior strength, any kind of weakness in 2 is frowned upon.
It was Loren who suggested the knives first, in a passing comment during our walk home after the weekly fight. I'd placed so close to the bottom I might as well have quit on the spot as soon as I left the ring, and Loren was only doing her best to try and cheer me up. I never believed her pep talk would actually be the thing to save me.
But, in the year below mine, the girls were still running through their first introductions to arena weaponry, and though my year had barely been offered a few lessons in sword handling, Loren's had been given the chance to try out everything. It was a new strategy, to help single out potential prodigies with certain weapons early on and brought in by a new trainer - Xavier.
In the seven years that followed, I worked through all the blood sweat and tears it took to be the best. And when the annual Academy grading rolled around at the end of last year, I placed first in Short Blades and third overall. I proved all of them wrong.
Just before ten, Sidonia corrals us all into the elevators again and presses the button for the basement. All of a sudden I realise how eager I am to feel a set of blades in my hands again. I wouldn't normally go more than one day without taking a trip to the Academy, but it's been well over two since I had a chance to throw.
The doors open up into a giant training gym, at least four times the size of the weapons studio back home in 2, and with stations for every skill imaginable. Gleaming recurve bows coupled with sheaths of arrows, giant spiked maces, and every type of sword you could possibly think of. Racks of needle-tipped spears line the far wall, and beside them are a collection of glittering silver knives. Just the sight of them brings a triumphant smile to my lips.
A couple of tribute pairs are already gathered in a loose circle around a woman in the centre – Atala, the Head Trainer – and Sidonia abandons Hadley and I to join the mentors in a box above the gym. Opposite them, in a similar balcony suspended above the room, are the Gamemakers. The men and women who control the Hunger Games: who design the arenas, dictate supplies and work to trip us up at every turn. As I watch them laugh and cajole together above us like royals at their feast, I think of how it will be a pleasure to beat them. To bring their crown of battle back to my District.
Until then, I am stuck with the weight of the Hadley family's reputation standing beside me, and a group of terrified looking teenagers clearly confused as to whether or not we're going to join them in the circle. As the two of us approach the group and I cast my eyes around them, up close for the first time, I wonder which one of these boys and girls will be the first to die by my hand.
When the final set of tributes – the girl and boy from 12, much to my displeasure – enter the gym, Atala talks us through the stations and how the day will run. There are experts in each discipline planted throughout the room, on hand to teach and practice. A couple of the more obstacle-based stations are mandatory - each District will be called separately, and their results recorded for the daily updates, but we are free to roam the rest of the gym individually. There are even extra staff on hand for partner disciplines.
It's clear Hadley has entered full golden boy mode the minute I look up at him. The smug and arrogant kid from the Academy, the one who bowls around 2 like a god, is here to show the rest of Panem exactly what he can do. I know it's a necessary evil, meant to intimidate the other tributes, but the sudden demise of the Hadley I've gotten to see so much more of during the past couple of days seems to deflate something in my chest.
I work to school my features into nonchalance at the thought, prepared to act just as superior as him, if only for the cameras. This is our chance to turn the Capitol's attention away from 12 and towards the people who truly have a chance at winning this thing.
Once again, I catch the eye of the blonde girl from 1, only a couple of metres away from me. I'm fairly sure she wasn't this close at the beginning of Atala's speech, and it's clear she's looking to make a beeline for Hadley and me as soon as the Head trainer releases us.
The moment the crowd of tributes disperses, the girl makes her move, stepping forwards with a beaming smile. Her teeth are so white I could probably see my reflection in them. "Hey, I'm Glimmer. Cashmere said you might want to team up."
"Sidonia said the same thing about you and your guy." I say, holding out a hand. "Clove, and this is Hadley - Cato Hadley. Although I doubt you really needed me to tell you that, did you? It's not like he acts as if he's famous or anything." I lean into stage whisper at Hadley's expense, and Glimmer snorts a laugh.
I don't know much about making friends – Loren and I have pretty much stuck to ourselves since we were kids, and somehow Hadley doesn't seem to count, since all we've ever done is mock each other – but something tells me I may have succeeded in forming our first alliance. And when Glimmer beckons me to follow her over to the spear-throwing station, I know it's the truth.
Behind me, my District partner's voice sounds in my ear. "Guess that means it's time to show off, eh Clover."
I spin on my heels, rebuke forming in my mind, but the golden boy is already gone.
AUTHOR'S NOTE -
Sorry this is up so late and that it's totally a filler chapter (I think that's why I struggled so much haha)! I just needed to get this evening and morning over with, but the next one will be the training centre chapter where the careers form their alliances. I'm actually so excited to write this because I will finally get the chance to write Glimmer as a decent human being. Not judging because we all did this back in the day but WOW the Clato fandom hated on Glimmer so much, all because of her portrayal in the movies. But honestly, I don't remember having a problem with her at all in the book, and actually if they have an alliance it seems they'd probably get along ish-okay! Therefore, Glimmer and Clove are actually gonna be friendly in this! Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this chapter even if it was a bit filler-ish and boring :') Much love as always - Vee xx