Kindling the Spark

Interviews

12: Interviews

Katniss POV

Haymitch exits the training room and gives me a thumbs up. The last few days have passed quite uneventfully, just training and honing our survival skills. Now it is time for the private training sessions. Gale said that he can't see these. I'm not sure what, if anything, I can do to top last year in the private session. Shooting an arrow at the game makers once may make them respect me, twice it will just seem old and a bid for attention.

"District 12 female, Katniss Everdeen," a robotic voice calls over speakers. "Please enter the training room for your private session."

I gulp and get up. I should have planned something for this before. The empty training room gives me a flashback to last year with Seneca Crane. Him explaining why he saved mine and Gale's lives and us having to let him go to repay him. The bowlful of cyanide. The strong smell coming from it. It seems so vivid and I wonder what Seneca is doing now. Did Snow catch him and have him executed? Now that I know about the cameras in most of the tribute buildings it seems likely.

Instinctively I head to the archery station. The dummy stands twenty metres away. A still target. I am confident that I can hit this, unlike last year when I was inexperienced with Capitol bows. I fit the arrow to the bowstring and draw it all the way back, fixing my eyes on the heart of the target. I let the arrow fly. It hits exactly where I aimed it, tearing through the material of the dummy with a soft thud.

I glance up at the game makers. They are silent, all watching me. This year they know what I can do. They know that I am the favourite to win. I have captured their attention and held it. I look back at the target with the arrow in its heart. That is the state that I want Snow to be in by the end of this rebellion. Dead, killed by my arrow. The image in my mind is satisfying and an idea strikes me. I nock a second arrow.

Normally after demonstrating a skill a tribute will move onto something else. I can feel the tension in the room as the game makers stare down at me. I give them a cold smile before looking back to the target. The second arrow impales the dummy around an inch above the first. The next arrow hits an inch below the first one. I empty the quiver of arrows, aiming carefully around the heart.

I stand back and look at my handiwork. The arrows mark a snowflake into the torso of the dummy. An obvious sign and definitely one that will make an impression. Exactly the sort of effect that I wanted. A few game makers are pointing and they are whispering to each other anxiously. I set the bow down in the stand. A small bow, just like last year. Then I exit.

I decide to go and find Gale and Haymitch. They will want to know about this. Gale had been asking me for the past morning what I was going to do and I had no answer. He was supportive, telling me that I didn't need to be a rebel to get a high score. He's probably right. After my show with the bow and arrow around the fake birds on the first day of training and all of the alliance invitations I had, I probably didn't need to make a stand in the training session.

It sends a message, yes, but probably one that Snow already knows. That I am the centre of an uprising is no secret to him. It also has a high chance of showing the rest of Panem that something happened. I can't see that what I did will give me a regular score like a nine or ten. No, it'll either be very high like last year or very low. I'm not exactly sure which one I am hoping for. One on hand, low will attract more attention from the Capitol and will make me less of a target during the Games. But high makes me more likely to be sponsored and I need those sponsors.

It isn't too hard to find them; they normally go back to their Capitol rooms after training. They are sitting in Haymitch's room, probably discussing interview strategies. I walk over and join them. My interview needs to be better than it was last year. The only memorable part of my interview last year was when I spun around in Cinna's dress and it burned up with the signature fake-fire. Other than that all I did was mumble answers to Caesar's questions.