“There’s a lot, so you can share it with Jessup,” Coriolanus told her. “Although I think Lysistrata brought him something.”
“I would, but he stopped eating.” Lucy Gray shot Jessup a worried look. “Might just be nerves. He’s acting kind of funny, too. Of course, all kinds of crazy’s coming out of our mouths now.”
“Like what?” asked Coriolanus.
“Like last night Reaper apologized to each of us personally for having to kill us,” she explained. “He says he’ll make it up to us when he wins. He’s going to take revenge on the Capitol, although that part wasn’t as clear as the killing us part.”
Coriolanus’s glance flitted over to Reaper, who was not only powerful but apparently good at mind games. “What was the response to that?”
“Most people just stared at him. Jessup spit in his eye. I told him it wasn’t over until the mockingjay sang, but that only confused him. It’s his way of making sense of all this, I guess. We’re all reeling. It’s not easy . . . saying good-bye to your life.” Her lower lip began to tremble, and she pushed her sandwich aside without taking so much as a bite.
Feeling the conversation taking a fatalistic turn, Coriolanus steered it in another direction. “Lucky you don’t have to. Lucky you have triple the gifts of anybody else.”
Lucy Gray’s eyebrows shot up. “Triple?”
“Triple. You’re going to win this thing, Lucy Gray,” he said. “I’ve thought it through. The moment they hit that gong, you run. Run as fast as you can. Get up in those stands and put as much distance as you can between you and the others. Find a good hiding space. I’ll get you food. Then you move to another space. Just keep moving and stay alive until the others all kill each other or starve to death. You can do it.”
“Can I? I know I’m the one who pushed you to believe in me, but last night I got to thinking about being in that arena. Trapped. All those weapons. Reaper coming after me. I feel more hopeful in the daytime, but when it gets dark, I get so afraid I —” Suddenly, tears began streaming down her face. It was the first time she hadn’t been able to contain them. On the stage after the mayor had hit her, or the time Coriolanus had given her bread pudding, she’d been on the verge of crying but managed to keep her tears in check. Now, as if a dam had broken, they flooded out.
Coriolanus felt something inside him unravel as he saw her helplessness and felt his own. He reached for her. “Oh, Lucy Gray . . .”
“I don’t want to die,” she whispered.
His fingers brushed the tears from her cheeks. “Of course you don’t. And I won’t let you.” She sobbed on. “I won’t let you, Lucy Gray!”
“You should let me. I’ve never been anything but trouble to you,” she choked out. “Putting you in danger and eating your food. And I could tell you hated my ballad. You’ll be well rid of me tomorrow.”
“I’ll be a wreck tomorrow! When I told you that you mattered to me, I didn’t mean as my tribute. I meant as you. You, Lucy Gray Baird, as a person. As my friend. As my —” What was the word for it? Sweetheart? Girlfriend? He could not claim more than a crush, and that might be one-sided. But what could he possibly have to lose by admitting she’d gotten to him? “I felt jealous after your ballad, because I wanted you to be thinking about me, not someone from your past. It’s stupid, I know. But you’re the most incredible girl I’ve ever met. Really. Extraordinary in every way. And I . . .” Tears welled in his own eyes, but he blinked them away. He had to stay strong for them both. “And I don’t want to lose you. I refuse to lose you. Please, don’t cry.”
“I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’ll stop. It’s just . . . I feel so alone,” she said.
“You’re not alone.” He took her hand. “And you won’t be alone in the arena; we’ll be together. I’ll be there every moment. I won’t take my eyes off of you. We’ll win this thing together, Lucy Gray. I promise.”
She clung to him. “Sounds almost possible, the way you say it.”
“It’s more than possible,” he asserted. “It’s probable. It’s inevitable, if you just follow the plan.”
“You really believe that?” she said, watching his face. “Because if I thought you did, it could go a long way to making me believe it, too.”
The moment required a grand gesture. Fortunately, he had one. He had been on the fence, weighing the risk, but he couldn’t leave her like this, with nothing to hold on to. It was a matter of honor. She was his girl, she had saved his life, and he had to do everything he could to save hers.
“Listen. Are you listening?” She was still crying, but her sobs had quieted to small, intermittent gasps. “My mother left me something when she died. It’s my most precious possession. I want you to have it in the arena, for good luck. It’s a loan, mind you. I fully expect you to return it to me. Otherwise, I could never part with it.” Coriolanus reached into his pocket, extended his hand, and fanned out his fingers. On his palm, gleaming in the last rays of the sun, sat his mother’s silver compact.
Lucy Gray’s mouth dropped open at the sight of it, and she wasn’t easy to impress. She reached out and caressed the exquisitely engraved rose, the antique silver, before drawing back regretfully. “Oh, I couldn’t take it. It’s too fine. It’s enough you offered it, Coriolanus.”
“Are you sure?” he asked, teasing her a bit. He smoothly clicked the latch and held it up so she could see her reflection in the mirror.
Lucy Gray drew in a quick breath and laughed. “Well, now you’re playing on my weakness.” And it was true. She was always so careful with her appearance. Not vain, really. Just conscious. She noticed the empty well where the cake of powder had sat an hour earlier. “Did there used to be powder here?”
“There did, but —” began Coriolanus. He paused. If he said it, there was no going back. On the other hand, if he didn’t, he might be losing her for good. His voice dropped to a whisper. “I thought you might want to use your own.”
Lucy Gray understood instantly. Her eyes darted to the Peacekeepers, none of whom were paying attention, and she leaned in and took a sniff of the compact. “Mm, you can still smell it, though. Lovely.”
“Like roses,” he said.
“Like you,” she said. “It really would be like having you with me, wouldn’t it?”
“Go on,” he urged her. “Take me with you. Take it.”
Lucy Gray wiped away her tears with the back of her hand. “Okay, but it’s a loaner.” She took the compact, slipped it into her pocket, and gave it a pat. “It helps to clarify my thinking. Somehow, winning the Games is just too large a thing to conceive of. But if I say, ‘I need to get this back to Coriolanus,’ I can wrap my mind around that.”
They talked a bit more, mostly about the layout of the arena and where the best hiding places might be, and he got half of the sandwich and all of a peach into her by the time Professor Sickle blew her whistle. Coriolanus wasn’t sure how it happened, but they must have both risen, both moved forward, because he found her in his arms, her hands clutching his shirtfront, as he locked her in an embrace.
“You’re all I’m going to think about in that arena,” she whispered.
“Not that guy back in Twelve?” he said only half-jokingly.
“No, he made sure he killed anything I felt for him,” she said. “The only boy my heart has a sweet spot for now is you.”
Then she gave him a kiss. Not a peck. A real kiss on the lips, with hints of peaches and powder. The feel of her mouth, soft and warm against his own, sent sensations surging through his body. Rather than pulling back, he held her even tighter as the taste and touch of her made his head spin. So this was what people were talking about! This was what made them so crazy! When they finally broke apart, he drew a deep breath, as if surfacing from the depths. Lucy Gray’s lashes fluttered open, and the look in her eyes matched his own. They simultaneously leaned in for another kiss when the Peacekeepers laid hands
on her and led her away.
Festus nudged him on the way out of the hall. “That was some good-bye.”
Coriolanus just shrugged. “What can I say? I’m irresistible.”
“I guess,” Festus answered. “I tried to give Coral a reassuring pat on the shoulder and she about broke my wrist.”
The kiss left him giddy. Beyond a doubt he’d crossed a line, but he didn’t regret it. . . . It had been amazing. He walked home alone, savoring the bittersweet parting, electrified by his daring. Maybe he’d broken a rule or two by giving her the compact and suggesting she fill it with rat poison, who knew? There was no real rule book for the Hunger Games. Okay, he probably had. But even so, it was worth it. For her. Still, he wasn’t telling anyone, not even Tigris.
It wasn’t a game changer necessarily. It would take cleverness and luck to poison another tribute. But Lucy Gray was clever, and no more unlucky than the others. They would have to ingest the poison, so his job would be to get her the food to use as bait. He felt more in control, having something to do besides watch.
After the Grandma’am had gone to bed, he confided in Tigris. “I think she’s fallen in love with me.”
“Of course she has. What do you feel for her?” she asked.
“I don’t know,” he answered. “I kissed her good-bye.”
Tigris raised her eyebrows. “On the cheek?”
“No. On the lips.” He thought about how to explain it, but all he could muster was “She’s something else.” Which was undeniable, on so many levels. The truth was, he didn’t have much experience when it came to girls, and even less when it came to love. Keeping the Snows’ situation a secret had always been the top priority. The cousins rarely had anyone to the apartment, even when Tigris had fallen hard in her final year of the Academy. Her reluctance to bring her sweetheart home had been taken as lack of commitment and had been a deciding factor in the breakup. Coriolanus took the incident as a warning not to become too deeply entangled with anyone himself. Plenty of his classmates had been interested in him, but he’d skillfully kept them at arm’s length. The excuse of that broken elevator had come in handy, and the Grandma’am had had several fictional ailments that required absolute quiet. There had been that one thing, last year, in the alley behind the train station, but that wasn’t really a romance so much as a dare Festus had put him up to. Between the posca and the darkness, the memory was sketchy at best. On reflection, he had never even learned her name, but it had earned him the reputation of being rather a player.
But Lucy Gray was his tribute, headed into the arena. And even if the circumstances were different, she’d still be a girl from the districts, or at least not Capitol. A second-class citizen. Human, but bestial. Smart, perhaps, but not evolved. Part of a shapeless mass of unfortunate, barbaric creatures that hovered on the periphery of his consciousness. Surely, if there had ever been an exception to the rule, it was Lucy Gray Baird. A person who defied easy definition. A rare bird, just like him. Why else had the pressure of her lips on his turned his knees to water?
Coriolanus fell asleep that night replaying the kiss in his head. . . .
The morning of the Hunger Games dawned bright and clear. He readied himself, ate the eggs Tigris prepared for him, and made the long, hot walk to Capitol News. He declined the thick makeup that Lucky had spackled on his own face, but allowed a light dusting of powder, not wanting to be too sweaty for the cameras. Calm and unruffled: Those were the qualities a Snow should project. The powder smelled sweet but lacked the refinement of his mother’s cake, which was tucked in his sock drawer back home.
“Good morning, Mr. Snow.” Dr. Gaul’s voice snapped him to attention. Of course, she was here at the television studio. Where else would she be on the opening morning of the Games?
Why Dean Highbottom had found it necessary to make an appearance, he didn’t know, but his bleary eyes peered down at Coriolanus. “We hear there was quite a touching scene when you parted from your tribute last night.”
Ugh. Would it be possible to find two people less capable of love? How did they even know about the kiss? Professor Sickle didn’t seem like a gossip, so who was spreading it around? Probably most of the mentors had seen it. . . .
Never mind. These two would not get a rise out of him. “As Dr. Gaul pointed out, emotions are running high.”
“Yes, it’s too bad she’s not likely to last the day,” said Dr. Gaul.
How he hated the pair of them. Gloating. Baiting him. Still, all he could allow himself was an indifferent twitch of the shoulders. “Well, as they say, it’s not over until the mockingjay sings.” He felt satisfaction at the puzzlement on their faces. They did not have a chance to question him, because Remus Dolittle appeared to inform them that the boy tribute from District 5 had passed away in the night due to complications from asthma or some such — anyway, the veterinarian couldn’t save him — and they had to go off and address his loss.
Try as he might, Coriolanus couldn’t remember the boy, or even which of his classmates had been assigned to mentor him. In preparation for the opening of the Games, he’d updated the mentor list he’d received from Professor Demigloss. He’d decided, for simplicity’s sake, to cross the teams off in pairs, regardless of what had happened to them. He didn’t mean to be ruthless, but there was no other way to keep it straight. He pulled the list out of his book bag now to record this latest casualty.
10th HUNGER GAMES
MENTOR ASSIGNMENTS
DISTRICT 1
Boy (Facet) Livia Cardew
Girl (Velvereen) Palmyra Monty
DISTRICT 2
Boy (Marcus) Sejanus Plinth
Girl (Sabyn) Florus Friend
DISTRICT 3
Boy (Circ) Io Jasper
Girl (Teslee) Urban Canville
DISTRICT 4
Boy (Mizzen) Persephone Price
Girl (Coral) Festus Creed
DISTRICT 5
Boy (Hy) Dennis Fling
Girl (Sol) Iphigenia Moss
DISTRICT 6
Boy (Otto) Apollo Ring
Girl (Ginnee) Diana Ring
DISTRICT 7
Boy (Treech) Vipsania Sickle
Girl (Lamina) Pliny Harrington
DISTRICT 8
Boy (Bobbin) Juno Phipps
Girl (Wovey) Hilarius Heavensbee
DISTRICT 9
Boy (Panlo) Gaius Breen
Girl (Sheaf) Androcles Anderson
DISTRICT 10
Boy (Tanner) Domitia Whimsiwick
Girl (Brandy) Arachne Crane
DISTRICT 11
Boy (Reaper) Clemensia Dovecote
Girl (Dill) Felix Ravinstill
DISTRICT 12
Boy (Jessup) Lysistrata Vickers
Girl (Lucy Gray) Coriolanus Snow
The number of Lucy Gray’s competitors had now dropped to thirteen. Another gone, and a boy, too. This could only be good news for her.
His mentor sheet had begun to get a bit crumpled, so he folded it in crisp quarters and decided to put it in the outside pocket of his book bag for easy access. When he opened it, he discovered a handker
chief. He puzzled a moment, since his were always on his person, then remembered that this was the one Lucy Gray had returned after drying her eyes the day he’d brought her the bread pudding. It felt good to have something so personal, a talisman of sorts, and he slid the list in carefully beside it.
The only mentors invited to appear on the pre-show were the seven who’d participated on interview night. They had, by default, become the Capitol faces of the Games, even though several of their tributes seemed like long shots. A corner of the studio had been outfitted with a few upholstered living room chairs, a coffee table, and a slightly crooked chandelier. Most of the mentors rehashed their tributes’ backgrounds, playing up any dangerous elements they could.
Since Coriolanus had devoted his entire interview to Lucy Gray’s song, he was the only one with fresh material. Pleased to have something new, Lucky Flickerman let him run over his allotted time. After filling in the usual details, Coriolanus spent most of the time talking about the Covey and emphasizing that Lucy Gray was not really district, no, not really at all. The Covey had a long history as musical performers, were artists of a kind rarely seen, and were no more like district residents than people from the Capitol were. In fact, if you thought about it, they almost were Capitol, and only by a series of misfortunes had somehow landed, or quite possibly been mistakenly detained, in District 12. Surely people could see how at home Lucy Gray seemed in the Capitol? And Lucky had to agree that yes, yes, there was something special about the girl.
Lysistrata shot him a look of annoyance as she took his seat, which he understood when he realized she was trying to tie Jessup to Lucy Gray in her interview and win sympathy for the two as a pair. While it was true that Jessup was District 12 coal miner stock through and through, hadn’t the two of them shown a natural partnership from the first bow? And who hadn’t noticed the unusual closeness between them, so often absent in tributes from the same district? In fact, Lysistrata was convinced that they were devoted to each other. With Jessup’s strength and Lucy Gray’s ability to charm the audience, she felt sure this year’s victor would come from District 12.
The Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes Page 18
