An Ode to Her - Coriolanus Snow

Chapter 8

Coriolanus stared at the paper, words unable to form from his lips. How could this happen? He thought everything was being paid off. He was told not to worry about such things.

"I don't understand." He snatched it up, glaring at the page. This was ridiculous. Impossible, even.

"It'll be alright, Coryo." Tigris placed a gentle hand on his back, rubbing small circles into his shoulder blades. "I'll take up some extra shifts, and when you win, all will be right again."

The Grandma'am sighed and crossed the flat to the living room, where she promptly plopped herself onto the couch. The arena shown bright on their television, quiet with minimal activity. "This is not how it was supposed to end," she said.

"Nothing's ending, Grandma'am," Tigris mumbled.

"Well," Coriolanus started, licking his lips, "We'll just have to sell some of our things, too. We don't need that lamp, for example." He pointed to a plain lamp with a boring shade over top of it in the corner. "Or father's nice shirt. It's useless to me now."

"Absolutely not!" Grandma'am objected. "Those are our things. They cannot take them from us."

"Either they take the lamp, or our family's pride, okay?" Coriolanus spat, running a hand through his curls. "I will not let the Snow name die out with me. No, not with me." He shook his head a few times too many and stomped off to his room, slamming the door. What to do? What could he possibly do?

He decided that the only logical option would be his original plan. To sell anything of value that wasn't an immediate necessity. That way, they could scrape off the rent money owed for last week and the next month, and then hopefully Tigris can support them until he wins the Plinth Prize. If he wins the Plinth Prize. But he chose to remain optimistic. It's what Carolina would want. He only hoped she was somewhere safe, away from the dangers that reside in the arena.

Coriolanus had just started to doze off when a knock on his bedroom door disturbed him from slumber. Tigris poked her head in and mumbled something he couldn't quite hear. But he made out the word Plinth, and knew he was needed.

He followed Tigris into the living room where Ma Plinth was standing, looking exhausted and scared. She was fidgeting with her glamorous fur coat that reached the floor, and Coriolanus realized how hard she was trying to fit in. Plinths came from 2, so their new money only goes so far. He could see that now. Her elaborate jewels, fur coats, and pound of makeup at near midnight was not a classy thing. Still, she was a kind woman, and her cooking was impeccable. So he smiled at her, and asked her what was wrong.

"It's Sejanus!" she started frantically, "He's missing. He didn't come home after he saw... Well, after he saw what happened to Marcus."

"What do you mean? He didn't even stop by?" Coriolanus asked, rolling his sleeves up.

Mrs. Plinth shook her head. "I haven't seen him. I searched his favorite park, the Academy, and now I've been driving around like an absolute lunatic trying to locate him."

"I'm sure he just went for a walk," Tigris suggested. But suddenly, her gaze shifted to the television, which was still humming with footage of the arena. Coriolanus followed her eyes and almost screamed at the screen.

It was dark, but even in the pale light barely emitting from the moon, he could make out the silhouette of Sejanus Plinth, kneeling beside a decaying Marcus. Ma Plinth gasped and brought her hands to her face, muffling her cries.

"What is he doing?" Tigris questioned.

Sejanus was sprinkling something over Marcus's body. Powder, maybe?