Hazel shifted both of the axes in her hands, the grips were slick with sweat. Come on.
Elara's stance was wide and ready, her eyes sparkling with excitement. The long blade flashed in her hand as she shifted her weight between her feet. The strands of her hair swayed back and forth with her subtle movements. Yet, she made no move to attack.
Mia's soft cries echoed behind them as she and Aaron began to retreat from the center. Mia was leaning on Aaron; the grass beneath them rustled. Silus hesitated, torn between watching their retreat and Elara's standoff with Hazel. Elara's arrogant gaze flickered to Mia and Aaron. I need her focused on me.
"Come on, Elara," Hazel attempted to make her voice sound taunting, twisting her axes, "Unless you are afraid you can't beat me."
Elara's eyes narrowed; her gaze flitted back to Hazel, but she still hesitated.
"Here, I'll even make things fair. I'll put one of my hands behind my back," Hazel bent her left arm and tucked it behind her. She slid one of her axes into her waistband, reached out her free hand behind her, and took a cautious step backward.
Elara's hesitation waned as she observed Hazel advancing slowly.
Hazel's fingers groped the air behind her, "You seemed so eager to fight earlier. If you can't take me, there's no way you're going to beat my brother." She continued to take deliberate backward steps, drawing Elara further away.
Elara scoffed, her voice dripping with contempt, "I think you'll be surprised," tossing her hair over her shoulder, "Too bad you'll be dead when I kill him." Elara took a couple more steps toward Hazel.
Hazel continued backward, "Show me then," her fingers still outstretched behind her, "I love surprises. Or keep talking. It's the only thing you're winning at right now."
Elara glared, stepping closer, her weapon poised. "Snow's little pet thinks she's clever, huh?" Elara’s eyes glittered in the sunlight overhead, "What would Senator Snow think of you putting yourself in danger like this, I wonder?"
Hazel tilted her head up toward the sky like she was looking up at God. Snow probably considered himself on par, so it was fitting, "Can't say for sure, but I'm certain he's watching." She internally scoffed, thinking about their conversation in his car, "I can imagine he's not exactly pleased," Hazel raised her eyebrow at her, "Should we at least give him a good show?"
Elara laughed, her tone laced with mockery, "If dying at my hands is a good show, then by all means, let's entertain him. I'd love nothing more than for him to watch me take out his pathetic little favorite from a district he probably forgets exists." Her smirk was confident, "I'll prove he backed the wrong horse."
"I don't know what's funnier, the fact you are insulting the Senator on live television." Hazel chuckled, looking around them before her eyes again settled on Elara, "Or that Snow preferred a 'pathetic' District Seven girl," allowing her gaze to appraise Elara in a leisurely fashion, "Over someone like you."
The insult clearly struck a nerve, and Elara began to jog toward Hazel, her face twisted. There we go. Hazel felt the telltale web along her outstretched fingers and paused her backward movement. Elara began to charge her now, her face reddened.
"I'll show him how pathetic you really are," Elara yelled, her knife flashing as she ran. Perfect.
"Haze!" Silus's concerned voice yelled behind them.
As Elara closed in, Hazel stood her ground; her weight shifted onto the balls of her feet. Just as Elara reached striking distance, Hazel sidestepped, allowing Elara to continue her pursuit. Elara's long, athletic arms shot out, and her knife sliced through the air toward Hazel. Once she was close-up, Elara's arms were much longer than Hazel had anticipated. Hazel threw herself backward and away from the blade, narrowly avoiding it. The sharp tip of the knife grazed the front of her green shirt, slicing a hair's breadth from her skin and leaving a jagged tear.
The ground met Hazel's back with a cushioning embrace as she tumbled into the soft grass. Elara continued her lunge; her body was now fully committed to the forward motion. Hazel's eyes darted downward just in time to witness a snare's translucent cord coiling around Elara's ankle. The trap sprang to life with a sudden, ruthless force. Elara let out a short, shrill scream as her feet were pulled out from under her, and her knife slipped from her grip. Elara paused for a brief second before she was hoisted effortlessly into the air, her ankle tethered to the sky.
Hazel let her head fall back to the grass behind her for a moment. That was close.
Her eyes burned as she screamed, "Julian!"
"Who's pathetic now?" Hazel murmured, her eyes fixed on Elara's suspended form.
Hazel cast a glance around the clearing and, to her relief, found the area quiet. She snatched Elara's knife from the ground, its blade still speckled with dried red dots of Aaron's blood. Then, securing her axe back into her belt, she began to make her way toward rejoining her group.
"You'll pay for this!" Elara hissed through gritted teeth. She writhed and twisted in the snare, a futile effort to free herself from her bind.
Hazel put some distance between them, "I'll add it to my tab." She then turned and jogged back to Silus, Aaron, and Mia. Elara's threats became more desperate as she continued to call out for Julian, cursing Hazel with every malicious word she could.
Silus looked less than impressed, "Clever," his eyes flickered with worry, "but too close."
She looked down at herself and ran a shaky finger over the hole in her shirt, "Yeah, tell me about it."
"We better get moving before her friends show up." Aaron pointed to the District Ten tract that was within reach, "Let's head there. We have a lot of caves in ten. Maybe we can find somewhere to recoup and rest."
On one hand, she was uncertain if this was the ideal tract to venture into. She would have much preferred the familiar woods of the District Seven tract; however, she also recognized that not many other tributes would likely pursue them into this particular area. Not to mention, The District Seven tract was on the other side of the arena. She caught Silus' eyes, and he nodded to her as he readjusted Mia's arm around his neck.
"Ok, show us the way," Hazel relented.
Both boys supported Mia's weight with one of her arms around each of them as they moved as fast as they could, with Hazel keeping watch behind them. Elara's furious shouts faded into the background.
As they ventured into the desert landscape of the District Ten tract, Hazel glanced back at the Cornucopia. It looked far less menacing from a distance, resembling a tipped-over golden cup against the horizon. She shuddered; the small shapes she knew were the ensnared tributes still hung around the grassy center, unmoving.
At the edge of the District One tract, a flash of motion caught her eye. Two figures were cautiously approaching the Cornucopia. Squinting, she recognized Flynn and Marina as they maneuvered through the web of snares.
Hazel's thoughts drifted to her faint memories of the 11th Hunger Games, where 16-year-old Mags, with her nimble fisherwoman's fingers, tied similar traps with fishing line. Tributes caught in them found their struggles only tightening the snares, leaving them vulnerable to Mags' attacks. Hazel shook her head at the memory. It was a clever yet brutal tactic, especially unexpected from the seemingly gentle girl from District Four.
"Keep up, Haze," Silus called back to her.
The District Ten tract was an expanse of arid landscape with patches of dry grasslands and sparse, scattered trees offering little shade from the harsh sun overhead. The terrain was predominantly flat, with occasional gentle rises that gave way to panoramic views of the surrounding area. Amidst this rugged beauty, the ground was cracked and dry, with the earth split open in places, creating natural fissures and crevices. Toward the northern edge of the tract, the land undulated more dramatically, leading to a series of low, rolling hills. Their little group made their way toward these hills on the far end of the tract, barely visible in the distance. Aaron assured them that if there were caves, they would be there.
After trekking for what felt like an eternity, Hazel's tongue was the texture of sandpaper, and a steady line of sweat traced its way down her spine. Her throat was parched, and her lips began to crack due to dryness. The sun blazed directly overhead—was it afternoon already? Hazel pondered whether time functioned the same way in the arena. Hazel then shifted her focus to Mia, who, despite the sweltering heat, was still shivering.
Looking up at the sky, Hazel muttered, "Festus, if you're listening, some water would be great right about now." It felt awkward like she was talking to thin air, but seeing Aaron, Silus, and Mia all sweating bullets reminded her just how badly they needed it. They were all on the fast track to dehydration if they didn't get water soon.
After walking a bit further, a piercing screech echoed above, and everyone froze. Mia, jolted by the sudden stop, looked up with a wince. Another screech, closer this time, filled the air. Hazel scanned the sky, recognizing the sound. It was similar to the calls of the birds of prey that were common in the woods of District Seven.
Then, the silhouette of a massive falcon gliding above cast a gargantuan shadow over the group. The sheer size dwarfed any Hazel had ever encountered. She had seen falcons snatch up rodents and small rabbits. This creature, however, seemed capable of carrying off a horse. Its wingspan easily stretched wider than a lumber mill truck.
Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.
Dark, slate-colored feathers adorned its back, while lighter cream-colored plumage was along its stomach, with an intricate pattern of darker spots on the lighter feathers. The tail feathers were distinctive, featuring a crisp white band at their tips. Its yellow talons appeared as sharp as daggers.
What struck her as particularly odd was a deep gray metallic, blinking collar encircling its neck.
As the falcon descended, it became evident it had fixed its gaze upon them. The group watched, transfixed yet apprehensive, as the immense bird swooped down closer, its presence overwhelming and imposing.
Silus released Mia's arm and raised the red-bladed axe, positioning himself in a defensive stance.
"Wait," Aaron said to Silus, his voice steady, "Look at its claws."
Their gaze collectively shifted, following Aaron's prompt. Gripped in the formidable talons of the bird were two large, clear glass bottles of water.
A wave of relief washed over Hazel. "Thank Festus," she murmured.
The falcon tilted its head and observed them with keen eyes. Then, with a deliberate motion, it released the bottles, letting them fall to the parched ground below. The lights on its metallic collar transitioned from green to blue. With a powerful beat of its vast wings, stirring a cloud of dust and sand into the air, the falcon ascended, gliding back into the expanse of the sky, leaving them with the precious gift of water.
"Here you go, drink up," Silus said, handing one of the large bottles of crystal-clear water to Aaron. It might as well have been liquid gold, the way it shimmered in the sunlight. Aaron's eyes shone with thirst as he held the bottle out in front of him.
Walking over to Hazel, Silus unscrewed the cap and offered it to her. "Ladies first," he insisted with a gentle smile.
Hazel gratefully accepted the bottle, taking several deep swigs. The water was refreshing and sweet. It instantly soothed her parched throat. She handed it back to Silus, who took his turn, closing his eyes as he drank deeply, the relief visible on his face.
"Never thought in my entire life that I'd be thanking Festus Creed for anything," Hazel mumbled, taking a breath between words. "And I've done it more than once in the last 72 hours."
Silus chuckled, "Hell must be frozen solid."
Hazel grinned, brushing away a droplet of water from her lip. "I'd welcome a frozen hell right about now, honestly."
Aaron and Mia drank their fill of the water, their faces reddened and weary. Mia's bleeding appeared to have stopped; the dark red circle around the spear had not changed in size for several hours. But looking at her, Hazel knew she couldn't go much longer like this.
Silus caught her gaze and addressed the group, "We need to get out of this sun and somewhere cool and secure before nightfall."
Aaron led the way, his gaze fixed on a series of rock formations just beyond their current location. Weary but willing, Hazel and the others followed him. The landscape around them had transformed into a network of caves and tunnels that burrowed deep into the hillsides. These caves varied in size and depth, with some being mere shallow indentations in the rock face while others revealed larger, wider chambers.
The boys assisted Mia as she ascended the rocky hill, guiding her until they reached the entrance of a particularly spacious cave concealed behind some large, dry brush.
Upon stepping inside the dimly lit environment, Hazel sighed with relief. The air in the cave was noticeably cooler compared to the scorching heat outside, and her sun-drenched skin welcomed the respite. The walls were rugged, composed of layers of rock.
"This seems like a good place to rest and wait out the night," Silus remarked, looking around the cave. Silus and Aaron carefully helped Mia lay down on the hard, stone ground. Aaron emptied his backpack's contents around them, several items scattered across the cave floor. A large, shimmering blanket, seemingly made of reflective material, a fire starter, and a spool of thick tan rope, the cordage neatly wound.
Aaron repositioned the now-empty backpack under Mia's head and covered her with the foil blanket. Her eyes glistened, and she managed to whisper a soft thank you.
Hazel felt the weariness and exhaustion seeping into her bones as she took a seat beside Silus, stretching her tired legs out in front of her.
"Do you think we should ask Festus for some food?" Silus inquired, his voice reflecting the fatigue that was settling in. "I don't know about you, but I'm not sure I will ever be hungry again," Hazel admitted, shaking her head as she began to process the events of the day.
Silus nodded in agreement, his eyes distant as he stared out at the desert landscape through the mouth of the cave.
Aaron joined them, settling down on the cave floor. "We might consider gathering some brush for a fire.”
Hazel and Silus exchanged perplexed glances. "A fire?" Hazel questioned. "It's like a million degrees right now. That sounds like the last thing we'll need."
Aaron shook his head, "It's the desert. Hot during the day, but it'll cool off drastically at night. I think the cave would conceal the light, and besides, I'm not sure many of our 'friends' out there would wander into this tract."
"It is pretty miserable," Hazel agreed before catching herself and quickly adding, "No offense or anything to District Ten."
Aaron chuckled. "I know the desert isn't everyone's cup of tea. I have no idea how I would handle winter in District Seven."
"It's not winter in Seven unless there's at least five feet of snow on the ground at any given time."
"I can't even imagine. I've never even seen snow in my entire life." He paused, looking at Hazel.
A quiet stillness settled over them. Aaron abruptly stood up, "I'm going to go gather some brush and what wood I can find. I won't go far." He cast a concerned look over at Mia, who had fallen into a restless sleep. Hazel watched her, hoping it was sleep and not a coma. "Keep an eye on her for me."
"Absolutely," Silus replied, and Hazel nodded in agreement.
After letting Mia rest for a while, Hazel gently woke her up to clean her wound. She poured some of their water around the spear fragments, trying to clear away any dirt or debris. Mia's face tensed, pain etching her features. Silus grabbed her hand, offering silent support. "So, you're from Ten. Do you like to raise livestock? Or work on a ranch?"
Through gritted teeth, Mia managed a nod. "Slaughterhouse," she said, the word heavy. "Pretty much where everyone ends up working."
Silus winced. "Sounds tough. If you had the choice, though, what would you rather be doing?"
The question seemed to transport Mia elsewhere, her gaze drifting to the dim outlines of the cave. "Dreamed of being a chef. Own a little cafe, maybe."
Silus smiled, "Sounds like a world away from the slaughterhouse."
"Yeah," She glanced down at her injured leg, "Doesn't matter much now, though."
Hazel chimed in, "What's your go-to dish? If you were cooking for us, what would you make?"
Mia's face softened, a hint of nostalgia coloring her tone. "Kolaches," she murmured, a faint smile playing on her lips as she glanced at Hazel and Silus, searching for a flicker of recognition. Seeing none, "You don’t have kolaches in District Seven?"
Both Hazel and Silus shook their heads, curiosity piqued. "Can't say that we do," Silus admitted.
A look of mild astonishment crossed Mia's face. "You're missing out. They're heaven. We make them with this doughy pastry, fluffy and light, then fill them with all kinds of things. My favorite's the apricot jam ones, but my mom makes them with whatever's on hand. Every year on my birthday, it's our little tradition. No matter what, she always finds a way to make them."
Watching Mia talk about her mother's cooking tugged at Hazel's heart. I should have cherished those apple pies my mom made. Mia's eyes glistened with the onset of tears as she was swept up in the memory.
"They sound amazing," Silus responded.
Mia's eyes drifted upwards, a shadow of melancholy passing over her face. "They are. They really are," she whispered, a single tear escaping down her cheek.
"All done here." Hazel pressed the water container into Mia's hands. "Try to drink some more.”
"Thank you." Mia managed a few sips before whispering, "Can I go back to sleep for a while?" Her eyes were heavy as she looked between Hazel and Silus.
"Of course, rest as much as you need. We'll be here," Silus assured her, his voice gentle. Mia pulled the long ebony hair off her shoulder and settled in on the ground. She closed her eyes, surrendering to sleep once more, her breathing slowly evening out as she drifted off, wrapping up in the foil blanket.
For several hours, Silus and Hazel rested themselves. Hazel's body felt wired yet exhausted. Mia fell into a restless nap next to them. Soon, the warm orange glow of the setting sun filled the coolness of the cave. Hazel began to feel the drastic change in the temperature. The air cooled further around them, and the sweat that had coated her back began to cool, causing her to shiver.
As twilight deepened, Aaron made his way back to the cave, his arms laden with a collection of branches and small, dry twigs. He arranged them with practiced hands into a neat pile before igniting a modest fire.
They sat around it, quietly watching. The soft crackling and the slow, distant dripping within the cave lulled them into a state of exhausted peace. Mia snored, her eyes fluttering behind her lids.
Hazel watched her; she looked so young, sleeping, curled up on the cold ground, "Is she a friend back home?"
Aaron shook his head, "We know each other, but I wouldn't call us friends. More like neighbors or acquaintances." He said, looking over Mia's form, "In Ten, everyone kind of knows everyone in one way or another."
"Being the mayor's son, you must be well-known.” Aaron's gaze met hers sharply. The unspoken words between them hovered in the air—now was as good a time as any to clear the air. "One would think that Mayor Shepherd's son would be exempt from the Games."
Aaron looked around the cave before answering, "In a different world, maybe," he began, his voice laced with resignation. "But when your father gambles with more than he can afford to lose..." He trailed off.
"I think I know what you mean." Hazel's voice was soft, and her gaze was fixed on the flickering flames before them.
"Haze," Silus warned, looking around at the cave, his brown eyes filled with concern, the firelight highlighting the worry lines on his forehead. "Be careful."
Hazel met Silus's gaze, sensing his reluctance, but this might be her only chance.
"It's not like the Capitol isn't already aware," she asserted, her voice defiant.
Silus shifted, "Talking about this so openly makes me nervous."
"I think they've probably already cut the live feed," Aaron interjected in a bitter tone, the flickering flames casting shifting shadows across his face. "They'll show what they want to show to Panem."
"Ironic, isn't it?" Hazel remarked under her breath, "They have no problem broadcasting the Games."
Silus remained silent, fixated on the fire, while Aaron nodded in agreement.
"As for your question," Aaron continued, " It's possible I might not have been selected at the reaping if he..." he glanced at Silus, "...if they hadn't been caught." A faint sorrow shadowed his expression. "Perhaps none of us would be here."
"You blame my father for us being here?" Silus' voice carried a hint of surprise and anger.
Aaron sighed, a look of resignation in his eyes as he met Hazel's gaze. "No more than I blame my own. But, truthfully," he paused, his voice softening, "I blame hers."
The mention of Hazel's father brought a sharp pang of disappointment and a fading defensiveness, "That's what you mentioned the night of the auction, but I still don't understand. I know my father isn't a saint." Hazel's tone turned serious. "But what exactly does he have to do with this?"
Aaron looked deeply into the fire, shifting his weight, rotating his shoulder, a flicker of discomfort crossing his face as he looked down at his hip.
"He's the reason the Capitol knows about the communications between District Seven and District Ten," Aaron finally revealed, his voice low.
Disbelief and confusion swirled within Hazel. "How? My father can hardly string two sentences together most days," she protested.
Aaron's gaze met hers, "Heath Marlowe is far more cunning and malicious than you realize," he said, his eyes moving to Silus. "And he's held onto a lot of bitterness."
That bitterness was not a secret to Hazel; her father had openly expressed his resentment towards her mother's remarriage and his disdain for Oren. Yet, the idea of her father actively endangering her for vengeance was a hard pill to swallow. "I just don't... can't believe he would..." she murmured, her voice trailing off.
"How do you think the Capitol—and Snow, for that matter—know so much about us, about our families?" Aaron pressed, the question hanging between them.
The pieces began to fall into place for Hazel, each one a heavier weight on her heart. Snow's intimate knowledge of her life, the personal details he seemed privy to, it all made a chilling sort of sense now.
Aaron's voice dropped to a whisper; the words weren’t more than a breath as he leaned in, ensuring their conversation stayed between them. "Your father is a Capitol informant."