Timber

Chapter Nineteen: Unveiling

The metallic grind of the door's lock pulled Hazel out of whatever dream she'd been trapped in. Her body flinched before her eyes even opened. She caught the sound of Silus shifting nearby, groggy and just as disoriented.

The room was washed in that ghost-light hour before sunrise, cool and blue and too early for anything civil. She groaned at the sleep-fueled haze clinging to her brain.

"Get up," Leo called.

Hazel rubbed her face with both hands, dragging the sleep down her cheeks.

"What's going on?" Silus muttered, squinting at the window.

"Get up and meet me outside in 10 minutes, " Leo instructed, not bothering to offer any explanation before he disappeared from the room.

Silus pushed upright, hair flattened on one side. He squinted too. "What time is it?"

"Not time to be awake," Hazel answered. "Even Ro would call it too early."

They dressed quickly. Hazel paused to check Silus' stitches. The skin around the seam had calmed, no angry pink or puckering. She ran her thumb along the edge. "Still intact. Try not to wave it around."

He flexed his fingers a little and winced. "I'll baby it."

"Good."

Silus reached for his boots, one eye still half-closed. "Think this is about the missing kit?"

Hazel tied her laces faster. "If it's not punishment, it's something worse."

Downstairs, the Manor's massive sitting room had taken on the look of a barely-controlled hangover. Tributes dragged themselves from the couch to the coffee machine. Some were already dressed, some still smelled like last night's wine. District Five's girl was chewing ice from an empty champagne glass.

Caleb from Two looked like someone had unplugged him and tried to jam him back in the wrong socket.

Hazel and Silus merged into the loose current of half-awake tributes drifting toward the front hall. Leo waited near the side wall, arms crossed.

Commander Percy was standing in the eye of the fatigued hurricane of tributes.

"Good morning, sunshines," Percy announced. "You're all looking exceptionally spirited." His gaze slid to Caleb. "Well... most of you. Word of advice Two, hydrate like your life depends on it. Because it just might."

Percy clapped his hands once.

"Big day. Real special. We're off to see the new arena. And yes, I do mean the arena. So eat, stretch, pray, whatever helps. Buses leave in twenty. You miss one, you walk. And if you think I'm joking, try me."

A few tributes chuckled.

Her feet carried her toward the food line, even as her mind scraped against the idea of stepping foot inside the place built to kill them. The kitchen staff had arranged everything like this was just a pleasant retreat. There were rows of too-perfect pastries, trays of fruit sliced into symmetrical shapes, and adorable miniature yogurt cups.

She grabbed a banana and a granola bar, while pocketing another for Silus.

Onboard, the tributes sank into their seats. Some leaned against the windows. Others closed their eyes. No one talked.

Hazel sat stiffly beside Silus, her untouched granola bar resting in her lap. She handed him the second bar and the banana. He took them with a murmured thanks.

Outside, the city moved past in a grayish-navy blur. After about an hour, the bus doors opened, and cool, crisp air rushed in. Before them was a damp grass field as far as the eye could see. Cameras were already in place, crouched on their tripods. Black-clad crews drifted between the rigs.