A Million Pieces - Hunger Games (Catching Fire & Mockingjay)

Chapter 19

We sit there for a long time without uttering a word, even when a silver parachute drops down. It's Katniss who breaks the silence.

"Whose is it, do you think?"

"No telling," Finnick replies in a flat voice. "Why don't we let Peeta claim it, since he died today?"

Peeta swiftly unties the cord and flattens the circle of silk.

Inside the parachute is a most peculiar object. It's a metal tube, tapered at one end. A small lip curves downward on the other end. Wrapped around it is a navy blue bow. A smile spreads across my face, although my heart twists.

"What is it?" Katniss asks, looking at the metal object as I tug at the ribbon, which unravels under my fingers.

"No idea," I breathe. They watch me with the ribbon, but I don't want to explain. I want to keep this close to my heart, a secret for myself. Finally, I glance up at Finnick, at his deep frown.

"Happy birthday," he says reluctantly.

"There's nothing you can do about it," I tell him, but his jaw doesn't unclench.

Peeta and Katniss stare until she finally says, "You were born today?"

"Twenty-four years ago."

Katniss's hard eyes snap to a random rock, as if she can't look at me.

"Talise entered the Games on your birthday?" Peeta asks softly. I nod. "I'm sorry," he says simply, but it's so sincere that I want to hug him.

I let my eyes glass over. Hopefully some sponsor will pity me enough to help. I wonder if Caspian thought of it that way. I know it's a smart move, but I find myself hoping he didn't send the ribbon as a strategic device.

"Let's figure out what this thing is," I decide, because no one else seems to want to speak.

"Can you fish with it?" Katniss questions us. We shake our heads, bemused. Katniss stares at it so hard I wonder if she's waiting for it to do a magic trick.

Finally, she jabs it into the ground and huffs, "I give up. Maybe if we hook up with Beetee and Wiress they can figure it out." She lies down and Peeta rubs her back comfortingly. It looks so natural, so intimate, that my chest warms.

"Caspian and Haymitch wouldn't send us something that we had no chance of understanding," I protest. "It has to be familiar to one of us."

Stubbornly, I pick it up and turn it around in my fingers. Why would Caspian and Haymitch send us this? It must help our thirst, but how?

Then Katniss sits up so abruptly that I snap my head around, reaching for a knife. "A spile!"

"Bless you," I say as she snatches the thing from me.

She studies it carefully for a moment. "It's a spile. Sort of like a faucet. You put it in a tree and sap comes out. Well, the right sort of tree."

"Sap?" echoes Finn.

"Why would you want sap?" I grimace.

"To make syrup," Peeta says. "But there must be something else in these trees."

We lunge to the nearest tree. Finnick goes to hammer the spile straight into the tree, but Katniss stops him.

"You might damage it," she says wisely. "We need to drill a hole first."

I immediately produce a knife from my belt and Katniss, giddy with excitement, passes it to Peeta. He and Finnick take turns cutting a hole into the tree. It seems, now that water is so close, my thirst is unbearable. I feel like I'm being drained, dried out - a fish out of water.

Finally, Katniss wedges the spile in the tree and finally, a single drop rolls out. I reach out and catch it on my finger. They watch as I lick it off. I nod eagerly.

It's water.

The drop has me thirsty for more. I'm almost trembling with impatience. They twist and turn the spile and finally get a small stream going. I'm allowed to stick my mouth under the tap first. Reviving, smooth water is soaked up by my parched tongue, and slips down my dry throat. It's warm, but suddenly it feels like a luxury.

When I've flooded my mouth, I go to collect one of the baskets I wove earlier. After we've all had our fill, I put the basket under the tap and we pass it around, splashing our faces. We all feel like royalty.

Finally, I let myself fall onto one of the mats, exhausted by the day's efforts.

"I'll take first watch," Finnick says, in a voice that leaves no space for discussion. Surprisingly, Katniss nods and lies down next to Peeta.

Finn sits next to me. "Get some sleep," he says.

"Wake me if you need something," I whisper.

He smiles. "I'm a big boy, Sapph."

I don't answer, just close my eyes. I curl up on the floor next to him, and I feel him give my shoulder a gentle pinch, almost more like a squeeze. When he lets go, he places his hand on the other side of my head protectively.

This isn't the Finnick who pushes me off fishing boats, who makes kissing faces at me behind Caspian's back, who cuddles up with Annie on the couch, who swings Malila onto his shoulders, who stirs the pot when Auntie Tina is cooking. This is the Finnick who kills, who doesn't waste time, whose jokes aren't quite as light.

Since his Games, I've never wanted to have to see this Finnick again. But I love him just the same and I know he won't let anything happen to me. Right now, curled up next to him, I'm as safe as I can be in the arena.

So I let myself fall asleep.