Ethan knelt, preparing a blue feathered arrow amidst the rustling stalks; the arid wind made the maize tilt and bend. Hazel analyzed the field as she rummaged through her pockets. The corn was golden and dehydrated with hints of green. Fingers crossed, it is dry enough to burn.
As if on cue, the warm wind picked up with her thoughts. Hazel's subdued panic prodded at her mind while she retrieved the remnants of unused fabric from Festus and added cobalt blooms to the makeshift bundle. Starting the fire was potentially more than a distraction.
A blaze could be deadly for whatever tributes were still in the corn, let alone a fire poisoned with Sapphire's Breath. But she was not going to wait around for Caleb to find her or, worse, find Silus. On the other hand, Hazel refused to delude herself into thinking she could best Caleb in physical combat. Hell, she couldn't keep a bottle of pills from him in a kitchen, and that was when he wasn't armed with God knows what kind of weaponry. She assured herself under her breath. It is necessary, unavoidable. What other choice was there?
"You'll need kindling of some kind," Ethan's voice broke her concentration.
In the distance, voices rose in loud, indistinct bursts—likely, they had discovered Eve.
Hazel reached into her shirt pocket, extracting the card from Snow. With trembling fingers, she split the card into two, pocketing the bottom half, and starting to shred the top part. "The odds are in your favor," she mused. There was bitter irony in dismantling Snow's words of reassurance, as those very odds were currently hunting her.
"What was that?" Ethan inquired, nodding to what was left of Snow's message, little papery scraps in her palm.
She could feel Silus's gaze. His eyes lingered on the card for a moment longer before they settled on her. She added the torn pieces to the pouch with the Sapphire's Breath, sealing the fabric ends with shaking hands.
She shrugged, "Just one of Festus's love notes." Her smirk was fleeting as she added, "If he wasn't thrilled with what I did to his last gifts, he's definitely not going to appreciate this."
Silus maintained his silent observation, his expression unreadable. His silence spoke volumes. We’ll talk about it later if we aren’t dead.
Hazel signaled for Ethan to stand, and they both rose as quietly as possible. In the distance, voices grew louder, closer even. Despite the dry warmth of the breeze on her face, she shivered as if it were the dead of winter, sweat beading on her back and palms. Hazel struggled to tie the pouch to the arrow's tip, her hands trembling so violently she feared she might cut herself.
"Steady," Ethan urged, his grey eyes meeting hers as beads of sweat trailed down his face from the ends of his hair.
Once the pouch was secure, Aaron retrieved the Capitol-engineered fire starter from his bag and placed it in her open palm. A small, detachable compartment at its base housed the high-efficiency tinder—Capitol ingenuity; she scoffed to herself. Yet, here it was, a beacon of hope and destruction intertwined. Light and darkness all in one, just like Gaul had warned.
Ethan readied the arrow, pulling back on the bow with precision.
"You think this is a good idea?" Aaron asked, eyeing the pouch, running a hand through his hair before resting it on the sword at his waist.
"We don't have much of a choice," Silus murmured.
"You got any better ones?" Hazel inquired, but Aaron averted his gaze, shaking his head. "The flowers should incapacitate anyone within several meters of its smoke, and hopefully, the corn is dry enough to catch fire, which will distract them if the flowers don't."
"Guess we'll find out if Caleb likes popcorn," Ethan commented, adjusting his boots in the dirt.
With the fire piston now in her grasp, Hazel approached Ethan, who stood poised, arms steady and bow pulled taut, "Don't breathe."
He nodded in understanding, the blue arrow fitted with the pouch that promised devastation. A surge of uncertainty filled Hazel. She held her breath, trying to steady her shaking hands, and pressed the piston rod down. But her nervousness betrayed her; the piston's smooth action failed to ignite, leaving only the echo of her heartbeat pounding against the silence.
"Need a hand?" Silus offered, stepping nearer.
Hazel let out the breath she had been holding. No, this was her decision; the last thing she wanted was for Silus to dirty his hands with what she was about to do. I must do this.
"I've got it, just a bit jittery," she replied, managing a weak smile. The familiar whisper of panic nudged her. She pushed it down with force, "Not every day I burn down a cornfield with a bunch of kids in it.”
"Remember, you're not doing this alone," Ethan's voice softened, offering Hazel an understanding glance. "Come on, try again, or let Silus take over," he suggested, adjusting his stance, muscles taut in anticipation.
Hazel had lit plenty of fires in the woods and at home in the hearth, but this was very different. She had never started a fire that might harm or kill. In the end, it was a complete possibility, and, in this setting, it would be a welcome result. With a focused resolve, she pushed the piston rod down again, this time with a precision born of acceptance. The air compressed within the cylinder heated in an instant, and after a tense moment, the tinder caught with a small, satisfying glow.
Hazel gently blew on the ember, coaxing it into a flame that soon took to the fabric pouch, the kindling, and the toxic flowers nestled within. As the flames embraced the pouch, a mixture of relief and apprehension washed over her. She had crossed the threshold, and there was no turning back.
The burning of the flowers released a thick, intoxicating sweetness into the air. Stepping back, Hazel nodded to Ethan. It was now kill or be killed, act or be acted upon. He blinked once in response, then released the arrow. It soared away from them in a smoking arc, vanishing from view into the expansive field.
The group retreated with caution, moving in silence in the direction opposite the arrow's path. Initially, the effect seemed disappointingly mild. Hazel feared the fire might have died upon impact, perhaps quenched by the soil or extinguished by a change in the wind. Maybe she should have torn up Snow's entire card and used the whole thing for kindling. However, her worries were soon dispelled by a distant crackling—the unmistakable sound of fire beginning its feast.
As they quickened their pace, smoke began to rise into the clear, cerulean sky, thin at first, then thickening with every passing second, each plume more ominous than the last. The smoke billowed upwards, creating a dark column. The heat brushed against her face as she witnessed isolated flames transforming into a continuous, greedy, raging inferno, devouring row after row of corn. A spike of fear coursed through Hazel; it was moving fast. Too Fast.
The group seemed to come to the same realization, and they all began to retreat more urgently, the earlier caution about minimizing noise long gone. Hazel drove herself to go faster, arms outstretched, pushing stalks away from her face and body as she moved. A crescendo of hissing and popping spoke of the rapid consumption of the dry corn behind them.
Heat licked up her spine and back from the fire's growing force, like a wall of warmth that intensified with every passing moment. The alarming speed at which the fire spread was fueled by the arid conditions and the abundance of dry plant material. Amber flames danced from stalk to stalk, growing taller with each passing second. The ground itself seemed to carry the fire as fallen leaves and stalks that littered the field caught alight, ensuring the blaze spread not just through the standing crops but across the earth.
The smell in the immediate aftermath was dominated by burning vegetation, a sharp, acrid odor that overwhelmed the initially sweet scent. The area around the point of ignition was now fully engulfed, the fire spreading outward in every direction, leaving behind a mounting perimeter of destruction.
"Shit, it's moving fast," Silus muttered, keeping pace with Hazel. His breath was heavy, and the pain was visible on his face, fresh blood soaking through his shirt.
"You think you could have aimed that arrow a little farther away?" Aaron grumbled, casting a glance at Ethan while slashing through the stalks.
"How was I supposed to know this field was so damn flammable?" Ethan retorted, his bow now resting on his shoulder. "Next time, you're in charge of fire setting," he added, wiping the sweat from his brow, concerned eyes flicking towards Ruby, who lagged due to the challenging terrain.
"Don't argue," Ruby gasped, the dense smoke making it difficult for her to speak. "It's not like we are experts in burning cornfields."
It was true. Hazel had seen more than her fair share of forest fires but had never been in a field on fire before. She knew fires could move with deadly efficiency, but it depended on the conditions. Here, the conditions were so foreign to anything she would deal with at home. This fire apparently had everything it needed to spread, more than they had anticipated. She felt another gust of warm breeze tousle her hair. It had to be the wind stoking the fire. It was growing stronger by the minute, almost unnaturally. Memories of the District Ten tract clouded her thoughts. Were the Game makers feeding it, just like the windstorm?
Her thoughts were cut short as her throat stung with each breath, the air thick with the biting sting of smoke and ash. The once faint scent of burning vegetation overpowered her senses, the marshmallow aroma of Sapphire's Breath thankfully lost behind them.
Casting another wary glance over her shoulder, something caught her eye—a flash of clothing, dark hair, maybe skin, or the outline of a figure shrouded in smoke. Pausing, she squinted through the haze, the relentless crackling of the fire masking any lesser sound. Was it Caleb? Eve or Owen, maybe? Gripping her axe tighter, she scanned the smoky veil, the fire's warmth pressing against her skin, now radiating an unbearable heat. But the figure, whatever or whoever it was, had vanished into the ash-filled air.
"Haze!" Silus called, but the group was still moving forward without her.
His earnestness snapped her back to reality. With a start, she dashed towards the advancing group, meeting their concerned looks with a forced reassurance as they maintained their pace.
Her lungs ached as they swelled with more smoke, eyes watering as flakes of ash coated her hair as they fell from the sky like burnt snow. Her feet ached in her boots, ankles twisting in the uneven footing of the rows.
"Almost there!" Ethan yelled from the lead, his head whipping back to the group as he pointed. Hazel followed his finger, and up ahead, the corn was thinning. The center field was nearly visible. With a final burst of energy, they emerged into the grassy center, their breaths heavy with exertion.
Panting, the group paused at the edge of the District Eleven tract, turning back to behold the destruction they'd left in their wake. Where once there was a sea of green and gold corn, now flames engulfed the towering stalks. The corn was fuel for the rampant blaze that illuminated the arena with a strawberry-colored glow. Billows of smoke, thick and choking, swirled into the air, forming a dark cloud that obscured the blue of the arena's ceiling.
Amidst the roar of fire, the faint, frantic sounds of distant voices, lost within the burning maze, permeated the air.
Ruby was gasping for air beside Hazel. "Where do we go from here?"
Hazel scanned their surroundings, searching for a path to safety. They hadn't thought that far ahead. The sun continued to lower itself toward the horizon, evening fully overtaking the arena. They would need to find somewhere to go before dark. She didn't dare suggest tract seven if they weren't able to get up into the trees before the wolves came out.
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The crackling flames were drowned out by a voice too familiar and unwelcome. "Playing with fire, Red? I know this is you!" Caleb's taunt pierced the tumultuous soundscape. Invisible but ominous and close, his voice boomed.
A chill coursed through Hazel despite the encroaching heat, Caleb's vow igniting a dread that no flame could match.
Hazel caught Silus's eyes, fear and anger filling his face. He ran a hand through his hair, soot, and sweat mixing to form a burnt gray paste on his hands. He winced as he stretched his arms, more blood soaked the back of his sweat-drenched shirt.
"That bastard just won't die, will he?" Ethan scoffed, scooting closer to Ruby, who was coughing and wiping gray spit from her mouth.
"I swear, I'll end him myself," Silus said under his breath.
Hazel gave him a stern look. "Considering your current state, I doubt that's wise." She surveyed the group, concern evident in her tone. "None of us are in any condition to confront him now."
"He's close," Ruby choked out, her young eyes infused with fear as she surveyed the corn inferno between coughs, "We have to hide."
They stood at the threshold of District Four, where the boundary between land and water blurred. The shore was adorned with an array of large, sand-colored rocks, their smooth surfaces warmed by the sun, creating a natural barrier.
Beyond this, the ocean revealed itself in expansive stretches of crystal-clear blue. Gentle waves whispered as they lapped against the sandy beaches.
Scattered across the water's expanse, islands appeared like jewels from the sea's embrace. One seemed close enough to reach by a determined swim, its silhouette a beacon of temporary refuge in the vast, open water.
The air tasted like the tang of salt and sounded like the subtle melody of the ocean's breath.
Silus, who appeared to share Hazel's assessment, rallied the group with urgency, "To the ocean—behind those rocks!" Motivated by his call, they moved as one towards the promising refuge of the ocean, their pace quickened by the need to escape the smoke and the looming threat of Caleb's wrath.
Approaching the Ocean's edge, an unexpected voice emerged from the charred remains of the cornfield. Ethan drew his bow, slotting an arrow into place while Hazel and Silus gripped their axes. The figure that materialized from the smoke was a grim visage of soot, ash, and blood-splattered clothing, the dark stains of maroon embedded in the fabric. Despite his waving hands, the unmistakable sight and sound of foot shackles curdled Hazel's stomach as the figure of Ian Threader met her gaze. Ian made a beeline towards them with hobbled steps. His braid was unkempt and loose, and his handcuffs were long discarded. Hazel shuddered, thinking of him dislocating his fingers on the first day of the games.
"Let me come with you. I'm trying to escape Caleb and his crew, too," His plea cut through the lingering smoke, his voice roughened by the fire's aftermath.
"Stay where you are," Silus's command was firm, the threat evident in his posture as he brandished his red-bladed axe.
"How do we know you aren't one of his allies?" Ethan called him.
Ian's expression turned to steel. "I have nothing but contempt for them and Districts One and Two. They're nothing more than the Capitol's lap dogs." He glanced down at his shackled ankles, bitterness evident. "If I were free, none of them would be breathing."
Hazel sensed the sincerity in Ian's tone yet remained wary of his unpredictable nature.
"You want me to shoot him?" Ethan whispered, an arrow aimed at Ian's ashy form.
"Yes," Silus stated, his eyes hard, and he frowned between his brows. Ethan pulled back ever so slightly on the bowstring.
"Wait, Ethan," Hazel called out, watching Ian pause and raise his hands, his long braid colored a dusty gray from ash. Caleb's yells were getting closer, and he would be out in the open at any minute.
"We can't afford to be anymore..." Silus started, looking at Hazel, "Accommodating."
"Even if Ethan lands a shot, we might need more than one. We don't have time for that—not with Caleb on our heels," Hazel reasoned.
Ethan relaxed his hold on the bow, a wry smile flickering across his face. "Glad you have confidence in my archery abilities," he said under his breath.
"Trust me, I do, but we need to conserve our arrows, and we can't afford any delays. This doesn't mean we're ruling out...firmer actions later," Hazel added, catching Ethan's eye, "We take him with us for now, and we can decide what to do with him later." Ethan nodded, his posture easing but remaining alert.
Silus, folding his arms, shot Ian a warning look but didn't voice any disagreement. Ruby and Aaron remained silent.
Hazel turned her attention back to Ian, who stood still, appearing to recognize the precariousness of his situation. The immediate threat of Caleb's pursuit outweighed the potential danger Ian posed, at least for the time being. She met Ian's gaze, her determination clear. "Make one wrong move, and you won't need to worry about Caleb finding you."
Ian, for his part, nodded in agreement, the relief in his eyes masked by a guarded expression. Whether it was gratitude for the reprieve or calculation, Hazel wasn't sure. Ian wasted no time in hobbling his way toward them despite his shackles. Ian caught the wary glances exchanged among the group, his hands raised.
Silus then moved closer to Hazel, his voice low, "We can't keep playing defense forever."
Hazel, gazing back at the blazing cornfield, retorted, "And setting a field on fire with enemies inside isn't offensive enough for you?"
He gave a dismissive shake of his head, distancing himself, "You know that's not what I'm talking about."
She ignored the comment; they were running out of time. Arguments would have to wait until later.
"Stay quiet and do exactly as we say," she warned Ian as he made his way into the Ocean next to her, her gaze piercing.
Silus, without a word, retrieved Ruby's handcuffs from Hazel's backpack. With that, he advanced toward Ian.
Ian, noting the handcuffs, tightened his jaw but did not comment. Instead, he held out his wrists to Silus.
Silus responded by seizing Ian's arms and snapping the cuffs around his wrists.
Hazel eyed the already torn skin on his arms; he had spent the better part of his time in the Capitol handcuffed. Not that he didn't deserve it.
"I promise I won't give us away." Ian insisted
"We'll see. You stick close to me, and don't think I won't hurt you if you give me a reason to." Silus' eyes were locked onto Ian, his face hard, his voice as cold as ice. Silus pulled on the cuffs, pushing Ian in front of him. Ian led as the group waded into the waves of the District Four tract's ocean. He was still in the same clothing he had been wearing since the reaping, covered in bruises and injuries from peacekeepers and blood. So much blood. She wasn't even sure what the original color of his clothing was.
Hazel observed an unsettling lack of fear in Ian's demeanor, yet considering his unusual behavior from the start, this wasn't entirely surprising. Memories of Ava, radiant under the chandelier's light during the auction night, crossed her mind, causing Hazel to shake her head to dismiss the thought. Her gaze returned to Ian, filled with questions. She could somewhat grasp his reasoning for killing his mentor, given his vocal contempt for the Capitol. However, the motive behind the murder of his kind-hearted district partner remained a mystery.
Hazel sucked in a breath as the cool seawater flooded her boots, sending a shock through her skin and nervous system as she began to make her way further in. The liquid was a relief against her hot skin; the smell of salt permeated her nose, a welcome respite from the smoke. Beside her, Ruby let out a soft whimper, the saltwater aggravating the wounds beneath her bandages. Hazel, too, felt the sharp sting where the salt met her abrasions.
The group ventured deeper, the waves reaching their waists as they moved through the mild currents. They found solace behind a collection of sizable rocks, which offered a shield from view.
Taking refuge, they listened as the voices behind them reached a crescendo. They had to hold onto the stones to keep from being pulled out to the Ocean or pushed back toward shore. Huddled together, their breaths shallow, hearts pounding in unison, they watched as the silhouettes of Caleb's group appeared at the edge of the cornfield, their figures distorted by the rising heat and smoke.
The heaving, muscular figure of Caleb coughed and spluttered as he bent over, spitting onto the grassy center field. He was followed closely by Julian and Elara, both coughing and wiping their faces. Despite the soot and ash, the three looked mostly whole, not much worse for the wear. The fire behind them paused at the threshold of the District Eleven tract, not even singing the grass field of the center.
Haze sunk deeper in the waves, peeking around the rocks, with her group breathing in unison behind her. The water was sloshing around them as the waves pushed up against the rocks they were hiding behind. The evening was giving way to twilight, and the first hues of the setting sun began to infuse the smoke-laden atmosphere.
Caleb straightened, running a hand through his hair with a short, incredulous laugh. Ashes fluttered from his curls like depressing confetti. He and his companions surveyed their surroundings, searching.
As Caleb's gaze swept toward the District Four tract, his eyes probing the tranquil waters, Hazel recoiled further behind her cover, her breath held in suspense. Not a soul stirred in their hidden group, including Ian, who observed the scene with an intense, quiet focus, his hands braced against the rock. Silus was next to his shoulder. He was so close that Ian wouldn't be able to sneeze without Silus feeling it.
Caleb's taunt pierced the quiet, "Come out, come out wherever you are." His voice rang clear across the open space, "Impressive, killing Eve and almost torching us along with the field. I'll admit, you've surprised me."
Hazel swallowed, so Eve was dead.
"I've been underestimating you," Caleb declared, his spear spinning in his grasp, lending a theatrical flair to his menacing stance, "As has everyone else, it seems."
Even from a distance, Hazel was convinced she could detect a smirk playing on his lips, a gleam of enjoyment in his gaze. Hazel wanted to vomit despite her empty stomach.
After a few more coughs, Julian and Elara exchanged a few terse whispers with Caleb, urging him onward. With a reluctant glance around, akin to a child being coaxed away from play, Caleb called out, "But don't you worry, I won't make that mistake again." His laughter, sharp and mocking, cut through the air one last time before he turned, "Just you wait, Red; you and your brother are mine." With that, he jogged away, following Julian and Elara toward the District Two tract.
As Caleb and his allies faded from view, the sense of imminent threat ebbed away, leaving Hazel with a momentary sigh of relief. Yet, she was acutely aware that this lull was just a brief pause in the storm. And now, Ian Threader was part of that equation, whether they liked it or not.
"Dude definitely has issues," Ethan muttered under his breath once the silhouettes of their chasers had merged with the horizon.
Hazel sighed, standing up straighter, "I may be partly responsible for that." She caught Silus's gaze. She pushed off the rocks with her palms, trying to hold herself up against the waves. "I may have insulted him more than a few times. And it looks like what I said about the 'close-knit' families of District Two hit a nerve."
A chuckle escaped Ethan and Ruby while Aaron and Silus shared a knowing look, and Ian nodded, a slight smirk on his lips. She could almost smell the salted cabbage from that night in the Pantheon.
"My sister has always had a diplomatic way with words," Silus remarked, pooling a handful of water and rubbing it on his soot-covered face.
"It's a blessing and a curse." Hazel winked at him, "Though, it's been more of a curse lately," Sending another glance over her shoulder at the grassy center of the Dodecagon.
"Looks like we're not bedding down on the beach tonight. Time to swim if we're aiming for that island before it gets dark," Silus suggested, his gaze fixed on the nearby landmass. The island, not too far off, promised a semblance of safety with its cluster of palm trees providing potential shelter.
Hazel sighed another tract, another night of unknowns. But the prospect of discovering fresh water and perhaps even food was a compelling draw, especially considering their dwindling resources. Venturing into this new territory might provide them with precious time to recuperate. Moreover, the ocean offered a chance to wash away the grime and soot that clung to them.
Hazel gave the smoldering field behind them one final glance. The once fierce blaze had dwindled to a mere whisper, leaving only the soft crackle of dying embers in its wake. The absence of Owen from those who fled the flames weighed heavily on her mind. More blood on my hands. Shaking her head, she forcibly redirected her thoughts from the guilt that gnawed at her, focusing instead on the task ahead. The island beckoned in the fading light of day.
With their belongings secured to avoid loss to the ocean's grasp, the group set out towards their new destination. Despite the short distance, the encumbrance of soaked clothing and equipment made the journey strenuously slow. Each stroke through the cool sea was a battle against the weight pulling them back.
Ian, still cuffed, called out, "Hey, any chance you could unlock these? It's hard enough swimming with hands tied, never mind feet."
Silus cast a reluctant glance at Ian before responding, "Fine. But the hands stay cuffed." With a quick adjustment, Ian's legs were freed, but his hands remained bound, a compromise that allowed him more mobility in the water without granting him too much freedom.
Together, they made their way through the arena's ocean, the silhouette of the island growing steadily larger with every determined stroke. The swim was short, spanning just a few meters, but the chill of the sea was a welcome contrast to the warmth of the day, even as the weight of their drenched attire and gear slowed their progress. Hazel powered through the fatigue, her legs kicking vigorously beneath the surface and her arms pulling with all the strength she could muster.
She dreaded even looking at the condition of her bandages. Her wounds angrily protested the salty ocean. She was almost certain she could feel fresh blood leaking from her cuts. As she neared the shallows, a slithering yet fleeting sensation brushed against her leg. It was an unnerving feeling in the dimming light that turned the sea a deep, inky blue. She glanced down but saw nothing in the shadowed waters, pushing herself to keep moving toward the safety of the shore.
Eventually, they reached the island's edge, emerging from the waves and onto the sandy beach. Hazel, alongside the rest of the group, made their way up the shore.
As Hazel took unsteady steps toward the island's heart, a silhouette appeared, causing her stomach to twist. Instinctively, she grasped her axe tighter, prepared for confrontation, "Silus."
Silus quickly joined her, alert and scanning the tree line ahead. As they waded forward cautiously, the waning sunlight glinted off an outline of a person standing among the trees. Hazel advanced with her axe at the ready, heart pounding. But as the figure became clearer, a surge of recognition washed over her. Standing before them, with eyes wide in surprise, was Kai.