The Spark

The Reaping

Trilly Silverway clicked her way up to the mic, smiling graciously. Her gaze swept the crowd, and for a moment she shifted nervously before beginning her opening speech.

"Welcome, welcome, to the Seventy-Second Annual Hunger Games!" she cried joyously. "May the odds be ever in your favor. Before we begin, we have a very special film brought to you all the way from the Capitol!" She turned away from the mic and lifted a hand to a large, shaking screen.

The Capitol seal appeared, bright and flashing, accompanied with triumphant fanfare. Most flinched away from the blaring speakers, but I kept my eyes on the screen as it showed us everything we'd already learned in school.

Eventually, the video ended, and the seal appeared again, along with a last bout of fanfare.

Trilly smiled as applause erupted from the crowd. Some people cried out in thankful and gracious screams, others had tears streaming down their faces. A few in the crowd kept silent, sidling away from the screaming masses.

"And now—" Trilly started, waiting for the crowd's cries to cease. "And now, we will choose our tributes. Though there is a twist this year. Volunteering is not allowed. As always, ladies first."

What the... No volunteers? That was never a rule previously.

She headed over to the first bowl, stared at it, and dug her hand inside. She searched around, then snatched up a paper. Reverently, she walked back up to the podium and unfolded it, reading the name with such care.

"Our first tribute is..."

The crowd held its collective breath.

"Mako Quinn!"

My heart stopped. My breath caught in my throat as hundreds of eyes turned on me, sizing me up. I was hardly fourteen, and I had been picked... and no one could save me, even if they wanted to.

"Come up now, dear!" Trilly called.

I swallowed and made my way past the people I knew, walking alone up the cleared pathway. I paused for a moment at the stairs, then climbed them and stood beside Trilly.

Trilly gave me an innocent smile and spoke into the mic. "And now, for the boys." She turned suddenly and clicked over to a similar glass bowl, snatched a name out of it, and read what was written inside.

"Terrek Redheim!"

I picked out a taller boy whose face had just gone dead pale. He was a good actor, and was liked by a lot of the people in District 2. No one would have ever condemned him to the Games, but it looked like no one could save him now.

Terrek gathered himself and walked up to the podium, making eye contact with me for the briefest moment. We'd gone to school together for maybe only two years, but we were in a group together, and therefore knew each other well enough.

"Shake hands, you two," Trilly muttered. Terrek reached out and we took each other's hands, then shook. I cast my gaze downward as Trilly called out again.

"Here are our tributes from District 2! Happy Hunger Games! And may the odds be ever in your favor!"

"This is one of the Capitol's newest bullet trains!" Trilly trilled. "Almost two hundred miles per hour and you can't feel a thing! I think it's one of the wonderful things about this opportunity, that even though you're here and even though it's just for a little while, you get to enjoy all of this." She gestured to the beautiful train cabin.

I cast my burning glare around the room, taking in each and every detail. The carving in the mahogany wood. The glint of the wine glasses. The sweet perfection of each sweet roll placed on its platter.