The 53rd Hunger Games- Two Words

12. Lessons

Hadrian catches my eye when I'm at the axe station. I throw at pace, mercilessly battering the dummies. I'm retrieving the silver number I used yesterday from the chest of a human shaped piece of plastic, and I see Hadrian. He mouths something.

Don't forget. Half six.

I nod. I'll remember, I mouth back. I've decided to go. He can't harm me, and I might find out something I want to know. Hadrian isn't an idiot, but he might just reveal what he wants to do with me. Tule suspects he wants to lure me into a sense of false security. Part of me thinks she's right. But another part desperately wants to prove her wrong.

I want Hadrian to team up with me, have no intention of hurting me. This is almost impossible, but it doesn't stop me from wanting it. The other outline districts are too scared to ally with anyone. They don't trust anyone. Gladius must have revealed enough of his skill that his allies would be confident in his abilities, but still in the dark when it came to his real capabilities.

If I wanted to, I could bargain my way into either Gladius's or Hadrian's packs. The Careers would offer me things that I couldn't get for myself, but only until I outlived my usefulness. But I could get a decent haul at the Cornucopia, which means I'd be set for the rest of the Games. If I managed to get my hands on a bow or an axe. I could get both if I made it clear I was with the Careers.

Hadrian isn't finished. What are you thinking of? You've got that look on your face, he mouths.

I shoot him a look, telling him to shut up. The less association I look to have with him, the better. With any luck, the Careers will forget about me talking to Hadrian. They'd happily pass me up for a chance to get rid of the bigger tributes.

I go back to throwing the axe. The instructors haven't asked me to do combat with them since I bested the senior instructor. I've only ever mucked about with an axe. My brothers both knew how to use one well, so they passed their knowledge on to me.

The dummies I'm using are now battered and threatening to fall apart. Hadrian is still watching me throw the axe. Each time I plant it in a dummy, he'll show a small smile. After a few minutes, he is dragged away by Arabella. She still insists on calling him Ryan.

He is taken to the swordplay station. Arabella watches as he shows her his skills. It's almost like he's dancing; it's that flowing and well rehearsed. It could be called almost beautiful if it wasn't so deadly.

There is a loud thunk, and someone cries out. All eyes are immediately on the girl from Five. Gladius's ally has fallen from the net, and has hit the thin mats that do nothing to cushion the five metre fall. She picks herself up, and tries to appear nonchalant, but she's limping.

The Careers, with the exception of Hadrian, all look pleased. Tears stream down the girl's face. Her district partner, a boy with black curly hair and caramel coloured skin, purses his lips. She's done something to her right ankle, which is a golden opportunity for the Careers. If it's serious, which I think everyone apart from Gladius's allies is hoping for, then she won't survive the Cornucopia. It sounds cruel, but this means there will be one less serious contender in these Games.

Sympathy has no place here.

All the Gamemakers are watching her. Several of the Peacekeepers ask her if she wants medical attention, but she declines their offers. Perhaps she's trying not to appear weak, but this choice may be one she regrets later. She doesn't think it's serious, but she may be wrong. Whatever the case, I keep my distance. Gladius looks vaguely irritated. Now would be the ideal time to ally with him, when he isn't sure if one of his pack will recover in time or enough to be useful. I'd trust his allies more than the Careers, but we'd be a target. It would seem like we were challenging the Careers.