Splintered

Chapter Fifty-Five: Where the Oceans Merge

After a much too long and likely too hot shower, Hazel emerged from the bathroom. The ambient temperature could pass for a spring day in Seven, and even inside the train, the humidity was tangible.

Contemplating the rainbow slew of colored ensembles in her closet, she settled on a flowy turquoise sundress. Forgoing anything fancy or complicated, she tied back her hair in a simple rope braid.

Merrick was silent when she stepped into the hallway, eyes fixed forward. Hazel was getting the distinct impression Bellona's replacement was the tight-lipped, stoic type.

In the main lobby, Sable, Leo, and a healthier-looking Festus and Snow waited. On the other side of the wall, the world was abuzz. Schools of people merged to form a crowd. Bizarrely, District and Capitol were not separated; instead, they were crammed together in the District Four train station. Barriers, strict lines, and boundaries enforced at the end of a barrel were all Hazel had ever known.

While this District lacked such structure, it was still evident who belonged to Four. Their clothes, while well-made, were duller; their faces were sun-kissed but still held a thinner edge.

It reminded Hazel of a fact Sage had told her when he had been in a particularly intense phase of obsession with underwater creatures. He had taught her that when two oceans attempted to merge, they never quite did, even when they were touching. A separation remained that not even the mightiest forces on earth could overcome. Though she wasn't sure how accurate that could be, considering that outside of the Alpine and the dam, District Seven was about as far away from the ocean as you could get.

In a way, separation was familiar. It was comfortable. But then again, she was like a fly stuck in a closed windowpane. Not inside but not truly outside either, powerlessly trapped between two worlds.

When she looked closer, she noticed she wasn't the only one. There was still a solitary boundary in place amongst the gathering. A half-moon of peacekeepers flanked two people, shielding them from the rest.

A flash of golden-brown waves and a soft smile snagged Hazel's attention as the train doors squealed open.

Mags Flanagan.

Hazel had only seen her from afar and on television during the 11th Hunger Games. Even during the lead-up and aftermath of her own Games, she had never actually talked to the sole Victor from District Four.

A pale seafoam pantsuit hung from her long, thin limbs, not bulky or unflattering but graceful. Her caramel-streaked hair was half pulled back, while the rest was loose around her face. Her eyes were warm, not the cool blue of the sea but more like a calm pond, teaming with aqua green life, and in the center a faint ring of golden brown.

Yet Mags didn't seem to take in the crowd or the guards. She was distracted by the man hovering too close, whispering in her ear. His bright purple-streaked braid coiled like a serpent over his shoulder.

Augustus's chin was high, and he appeared to be oddly proud despite having failed at his mission to kill Snow. His smile sharpened as the two groups drew together.

Mags didn't react besides a faint dip of her mouth.

Snow was bristling as he laid eyes on the man. Beside him, Festus' hands fisted. Sable and Leo flanked them, not pressing but merely present.

Hazel gave a sideways glance to Leo, who blinked back at her with as reassuring a look as he could without being obvious.

"I know you are still cross with me," Snow's breath was in her ear. "Still on the same team, right?" Holding out his arm, Snow waited for Hazel to take it.