Hazel paused as she reached the curved end of the stone border. The cool bricks were rough against her back, and a shiver slithered up her neck, whether from the chill or the fear; she wasn’t sure. The searing pain had dimmed to a smolder as she tightened her left-handed grip on a scrap of shirt. Warm blood was no longer dripping, but it wouldn’t take much to restart.
Caleb's presence loomed like a shadow in the purple haze of the setting sun, a threat just out of sight.
In the distance, the Cornucopia's outline reflected the sky's violet and navy tones. The ensnared tributes swayed around it. The muted dark mass of the spider’s body remained just as it was earlier in the day. She chewed on the inside of her cheek until she tasted iron.
Taking a deep, steadying breath of the evening air, she pushed off the wall and left the safety of her hiding spot. She crept away, each step increasing the distance between them, her heart pounding. She stole another glance in Caleb’s direction. He had wandered several meters away, his back to her as he searched the upper branches. Now, go now. She broke out of the trees in a dead sprint. Caleb still hadn't noticed—at least, not yet.
She ran through the grassy center until a taut, silvery reflection appeared. Her pulse roared like a mighty dam in her ears. As she neared the snare, she drew the knife from her belt and sliced through it with a silent, swift motion. The line snapped, the bottom half pooling in the grass. She swiped at it again, severing it from the earth. Hazel pocketed the line and approached another, repeating the process. After dismantling several more, numerous feet of translucent webbing bulged from her pockets.
Please be enough.
She hastened to where her axe landed on the first day of the Games. The field was dark, and the deep emerald blades swayed in a gentle early-night breeze. The knife’s handle was slick, and she gripped it harder. She scanned the dusky green ocean of the grass, but the darkness obscured any weapons hidden within its depths.
“There you are!” Hazel jerked as Caleb’s voice vibrated around her. Not yet. Not yet.
Her eyes bulged as she looked over her shoulder. Caleb was galloping through the field, his midnight-colored irises glinting in the twilight. His sword flashed with every stride; it appeared even more menacing at night. The moon’s light intensified to an unnatural brightness. Her stomach might as well have flipped over inside her abdomen.
Where is it, where is it?
Hazel bent, her fingers trembled, pushing and tugging at the field. She tore at the grass, tearing at the chunks of the sod in her desperation. It should be here. She knew she was gambling with her life by continuing to look for it much longer. Maybe someone else had snagged it. Just as she was about to abandon her search, a familiar steel shine winked at her from the earth. Thank Cedar. Hazel lunged toward it.
As her fingers closed around the handle, Caleb's sharp voice struck her like lightning, making her startle in its proximity.
"All out of tricks yet?" He called, and she didn’t need to see him to feel his satisfied grin. He was closing in on her rapidly.
Hazel wheeled around, tucking the knife in her belt while her good hand held her axe, and sprinted toward the cornucopia, "Almost."
“More running?” he huffed across the field.
“If you want to give up, by all means,” she yelled as she pumped her knees higher and swung her arms harder, practically throwing her body across the field.
Her entire nervous system felt like it was frozen and on fire at the same time. Her body begged her to rest, but her mind raced, warning bells alarming at the nearness of her death. Caleb’s breathing and the pounding of his boots grew louder.
Soon, she closed in on the Cornucopia and skidded to a stop. The metal structure loomed above her, its walls much steeper and smoother than she remembered.
Throwing herself upward, Hazel clawed at the surface, trying to yank herself higher, but her hands slid and squeaked. The Cornucopia discarded her onto the grass like an annoying insect.
"Luck running out there, Red?" Caleb bellowed, closing in further.
Her mind spun, and her body trembled as she scanned the Cornucopia. There has to be a way. The golden surface had dimmed to a deep shimmering bronze, but scattered over it were spots and splashes of a viscous blue fluid. Hazel ran her hand along the surface until her fingers met a gap.
A snaking crack branched out from the grass to the tip of the mouth. She held her breath and lunged at the Cornucopia again. She flung her body forward with what strength she had left, axe first. This time, she brought the bottom lip of her blade down hard on the fissure. A horrible grating sound filled the air, like the structure was screeching in protest. Much to her satisfaction, the axe dug in.
Using the weapon as leverage, she pulled her weight up the wall. Pressing her boots flat against the wall and her injured hand to the surface, she dislodged the axe. She lunged again, higher this time, sinking the blade along the crack. Another grating sound followed, but the blade held, and she hauled herself upward.
Just as she was about to repeat the process, a firm, warm, and uncomfortably sweaty pressure closed around her leg. She let out a soft grunt of surprise, casting a look down. Caleb’s eyes met hers; his wide hand engulfed the narrowest part of her ankle.
He leaned back with a wicked smirk, tugging with all his weight. Her axe held, but her shoulder strained, threatening to dislocate. She let out a gasp as she used her injured hand and other leg to push away from him. She wrenched and kicked her foot that was ensnared in his palm, but his grip held fast.
"Come on back here," he called, twisting harder on her ankle. Her right arm throbbed, the joint cracking with the strain. With a desperate moan, she groped around her belt with her mangled left hand. The sensation made her grit her teeth against the searing agony. Thick, warm wetness pooled along her palm again. So much for clotting.
Her bloodied fingers met with the handle of Mia’s knife, pulling it free. Caleb tightened his hold like he was trying to crush her bones with his bare hands. She swiped blindly at him, but all she met was empty air. He leaned away from her slices and chuckled at her wild yet unsuccessful efforts. With a forceful swing, she brought the blade down as hard as possible. The tip groaned as it carved right through the center of Caleb’s wrist. It sliced through with a less-than-smooth motion, tendons and veins snapping and popping in its wake.
She released the knife as he let go of her ankle with a reverberating curse and howl.
Hazel pushed her boots against the slick plane, propelling herself as far up as possible.
Below her, Caleb dislodged the knife from his hand with a harried grunt.
Hazel freed the axe and swung it upward again, catching the lip and stretching herself forward.
With a few more swings, she reached the top. She slithered to a flattened area at the structure's tip, turning herself over so she was half sitting, half lying on her back.
The wind had grown quiet, all clouds had dissipated, and the moon’s light bathed her in an even brighter glow. Caleb sent her a dark look as he grasped the edge of his shirt with his bloodied hand.
She pulled her axe and the bundle of snare lines into her lap. Her fingers quaked as she worked to secure one end of the line to the axe's head.
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"Not your best day, huh, Two? Tough break being right-handed.”
Caleb growled from the darkness below. "You're making this so much worse for yourself. Once I'm done with you, I promise I won't make it quick for your little brother."
"You planning on kissing him too?" She began to tie each subsequent snare line to each other until it formed a lengthy, iridescent rope.
Caleb scoffed but smirked as his arms strained, “Memorable was it?”
Hazel's eyes narrowed. "Sure, if being kissed by a worm is considered memorable. And if you value having lips on your face, you won’t try it again."
Caleb winked at her as he refocused on the wall before him.
Hazel's fingers slipped over her blood as she struggled with the knot Ruby had shown her and Kai. The line dug into her fingers as she worked, scratching and tearing at her fragile skin.
The metal beneath her shook as Caleb jumped toward the Cornucopia, grasping with his non-injured hand at the slick surface. As fast as he threw his dense weight forward, it carried him backward. After a few failed attempts, he cursed under his breath. He attempted to use his sword as leverage, as Hazel had used her axe, but the blade was too awkward and long.
He paused, searching the ground around him, and retrieved the discarded knife, palming it as he reapproached the structure.
Hazel’s heart leaped as she worked faster but struggled between the slick blood and her shaking fingers. Tying a decent snare was proving to be immensely difficult. The webbing looked like delicate spun glass but had the biting texture of wire.
Below her, Caleb was able to utilize the knife for better climbing leverage. He jumped upward, embedding the tip with a shrill, metallic screech until it held his weight. Pulling up with his broad arms, he copied Hazel’s movements. Releasing the blade for a few seconds only to embed it higher and yank himself closer.
Hazel scooted backward as far as she could on the flat top of the cone, but soon, there was nowhere left to retreat. Her nerves tingled as she reached the edge of the wide mouth. Her stomach curled in on itself at the feeling of nothing but air behind her.
Get it together. Cedar, help me.
She wiped her hands on her pants and redoubled her efforts, using her teeth to work the knot. The line tasted like vinegar and rust. The flavor assaulted her tongue and made fresh nausea bubble in her esophagus.
The sound of Caleb’s breathing, grunting, and his skin squeaking against the Cornucopia filled the air.
With a final tug of the line, the knot fully formed. She ran her fingers down the rope, tugging on each connection. They tightened in on themselves but did not come apart.
Perfect.
Caleb was closing in as she raised herself to her knees, careful to keep from tipping over the edge.
She stared at the dome and then back down at Caleb. “You up for another midnight snack, Two?”
Caleb frowned and froze his ascent, curiosity coloring his face.
“Any special requests? You don’t seem like much of a fruit guy. But it is getting a little late for anything too heavy.” She steeled herself as he overlooked the nearly translucent web in her hands and muttered something about ‘arts and crafts garbage.’
Hazel stared back at the sky. Was that too subtle?
"Forget snacks. How about some plain old water? It's always a good choice. It can wash down a salty meal, a bad piece of fish, sleeping pills... whatever." His eyes locked onto hers at that last part.
Caleb laughed, driving the blade higher up the wall as he strained to push his bulk forward. "Now, that was a memorable night."
"Not the word I'd use."
"Oh, I would." His muscular arms tightened as he pulled his weight uphill.
"You're not going to tell me what happened that night?" She looked around, holding her breath, straining to hear the beat of wings, but the arena was silent.
"Where's the fun in that?"
"Right, I forgot, you're all about fun."
"Everyone has to deal with the consequences of their actions. I just helped things along."
"Sounds like a trap." Hazel tightened her hold on the line. The rope dug into her skin until she was sure she would bleed.
"Don't pretend you didn't benefit."
Hazel glared at him. "And Leo?"
Caleb scoffed. "Again, Red. Actions have consequences, both his and yours."
Hazel looked away, shaking off memories of Leo’s screams and the sickening thuds of his beating. Her gaze met the swaying figure of one of the entangled, "I didn’t mean for anyone to get hurt."
"But they did. There's no use crying over it. Embrace the advantage you got from it."
Hazel's brows furrowed as she shivered. "There is something seriously wrong with you."
"You’re probably right. But at least I’ll be a victor." Caleb lunged forward, startling Hazel as his hand gripped the toe of her shoe. She pushed backward, but his grip held tight. He yanked on her foot, pulling her toward him. She scraped her fingernails against the surface, searching for any friction. Blood streaked across the gold surface as she dragged her palm against it, grunting.
She tore at her shoelace as Caleb grappled with her foot. He held himself steady with his bloodied palm enclosed around the embedded knife.
Hazel managed to loosen the ties in a few seconds and jerked and thrashed her foot until it slipped out of the shoe, now trapped in Caleb’s hand. As it released, he skidded backward, the empty boot in his hand, his weight shifting as he gripped the knife lodged in the wall with his lacerated palm.
"I could really go for some water right now!" Hazel yelled toward the moon. Subtlety was no longer an option. Caleb dropped her shoe as he regained his composure, scrambling to keep from sliding all the way down the slope.
"Water, really?" He quirked an eyebrow. “Festus can’t save you.”
She met his eyes in the moonlight, her voice softening. "Who says I'm asking Festus?" She gripped the snare in both hands, steadying herself despite feeling dangerously unbalanced. The axe in her belt felt heavy against her skin.
Caleb paused, staring at her and shaking his head in dismissal.
Hazel locked eyes with him. “I’m testing a theory.”
Caleb nodded, his usually mocking voice replaced by a severe tone. “You think you know everything, but you don’t. You don’t even know a fraction.”
“Maybe. But maybe we both only see the fraction we are meant to.” Hazel caught a genuine questioning look coming over Caleb’s face. Caleb held her stare for several beats, searching her eyes.
He thought he was above all of this, better than it because he was from a favored district. But it didn’t matter. They were all the same in the eyes of the Capitol; they were district. Pawns in a wretched game, forced to play. Forced to kill their peers but blinded to think they were different. And she had a sneaking suspicion that Caleb was more of a pawn than he realized.
Neither moved, taking each other in. The only sound was each of their rapid breaths. He opened his mouth to respond, but then the sweetest sound filled the air—the deep beat of wings—not just any wings, but the set of a mammoth falcon.
Caleb’s head whipped around when the giant bird appeared in the moonlight, its deep orange talons gripping a glass bottle.
“This is some kind of joke, right?” Caleb scoffed, the familiar smirk snapping back into place as he stared at the great bird. It was time.
Hazel dove toward him as he was turned away. He didn’t even have time to flinch as she looped the translucent knot over his head and around his neck, pulling hard. Caleb let out a guttural grunt of surprise. His wide fingers strained to grip the slick surface while clawing at his neck.
Hazel heaved the axe from her belt and yanked on the line with all her strength. With a few hesitant steps backward, her heels dangled over the edge. The snare tightened around Caleb’s neck, but he managed to slip two meaty fingers under the line, preventing it from completely suffocating him.
"Going to strangle me with your arts and crafts project, Red?" He looked like he was on the verge of laughing. "You don’t have the strength."
He heaved himself forward until he was fully on top of the Cornucopia. He rose to his feet as he gripped the snare around his neck.
“This is the last time,” Hazel called out; the axe in her palms felt heavier than before.
The falcon swooped in closer. Caleb reached forward, trying to rip the line from her, “Last time what?”
The wind picked up around them, and the mighty bird’s wings flapped as it descended.
Hazel raised her axe above her head, blood trickling down her forearm and her left hand throbbing. “You underestimate me.”
He raised an eyebrow, attention fixed on the axe. He could easily block a throw from this distance, and his face showed he knew as much.
"So sorry about this," she whispered.
Caleb paused his forward movement and tilted his head, puzzled.
"Not you." Hazel heaved her axe forward. It arced away from them into the night sky, spinning end over end.
The falcon let out a bone-chilling shriek as the blade embedded itself in the soft feathers of its muscular leg. The glass bottle fell, shattering against the cornucopia between them. Lights shifted from blue to green.
The majestic bird darted toward the dome, screaming into the night. The translucent rope became taut in an instant, but the knots held. Caleb let out a shrieking grunt as the line dug into his skin.
The wind from the falcon’s broad wings whirled around them, forcing her to her knees. "Time for your consequences." She whispered loud enough for Caleb to hear.
The realization in Caleb’s obsidian eyes barely manifested before he was hauled backward by the line. He grappled with the snare around his neck, but he was flung backward, his body sliding against the structure with a sickening squeal. His scream was cut off suddenly as the giant falcon soared further into the manufactured night sky, jerking him into the air like a child’s doll.
Hazel's grip on the slick metal loosened as the wind from the falcon's broad wings whirled around her, tangling in her hair. Above her, Caleb's chestnut curls hung loosely around his shadowed face as he disappeared into the darkness. She clawed at the surface, her fingers and bootless foot scrabbling for purchase, but it was too late. The edge of the Cornucopia slipped from her grasp, and she plummeted into the abyss below. Her world spun in a blur of violet and navy as the falcon's wounded squawk and its wings' heavy beat faded into the distance.