The Beasts of Us [A Hunger Games Fanfic]

ARENA XVI. Phoebe.

The cannon, thudding through the arena in the dampness of the morning, took her so much by surprise that she and Darmon both flinched. Her daemon leapt into her lap and she buried a hand in his fur, muttering comforting words that failed to make either of them feel better. Harry opened his eyes and gave her a weak smile.

"Career?"

"Hope so."

She did, just about, but it felt...strange. She hadn't liked any of the gleaming, confident brutes in training, and she knew they would kill her in a flash if they got the chance, yet she felt no more hopeful about her chances, nor any joy about the competition being reduced again. Hoping one of the Careers was dead was one thing. But she couldn't bring herself to feel happy about it.

Kei looked like nothing. That gave her the creeps. His face hardly shifted at all; it was so different from the boy she half-remembered from the tapes and the training centre that she could easily imagine he was someone else. There was no mistaking that daemon, though. A snake, dark and oily. Phoebe had never met anybody with a snake daemon she had actually liked.

She didn't like Kei either. She wouldn't have liked him back home. Something about him was subtly wrong, not malicious, just wrong somehow. Darmon thought so too and according to him so did Harry's daemon. But they'd had no way to scare him off. It looked like they were stuck with him.

"I guess we'll find out tonight," she offered to him.

"Yeah."

That was it. She wasn't surprised.

Harry had given up on trying not to look in pain. His smooth, handsome face was creased with it. A livid red rash mottled the skin of his hands and crept up his neck. His daemon's fur looked less shiny than usual too, though that could have been the rain. She still looked soft and strong and Phoebe would have buried her face in her fur in a heartbeat if Harry had allowed it.

Suddenly afraid that they could read her thoughts, she flushed and turned aside as the daemon said, "It's as likely to be the girl from Twelve..."

"Creedence." Harry knew all their names.

"...or Dannie, or the one from Eight..."

"Joyce."

"Or anybody," she continued. "Best not to get our hopes up."

"It's not like we've got much else," Harry rebuked her gently. "And it's not like you're not doing it either." He ruffled her ears with his good hand. She nuzzled his knee.

Darmon nudged her. "Want him to stroke your ears too?" he asked under his breath.

She flicked his tail, otherwise pretending she hadn't heard. It wasn't hard and it didn't hurt, so he just smirked and settled down against her feet, smug. Despite herself, she smiled; wherever they were, whatever their situation, her dear Darmon would always be himself. Kei watched the interaction dispassionately. Not even a shadow of curiosity there.

"It could be Dannie," she suggested. Nothing. "Kei. Kei?"

He blinked and suddenly he was paying attention to her, though his lips remained pressed together tightly and his eyes were hard as stone. "What?"

"It could be Dannie."

"What could be?"

"The cannon."

"Oh." He paused, listening to his daemon. She was speaking so quietly that Phoebe couldn't tell. "Right."

She wasn't giving up there. "Who else is left?" she wondered, trying to draw him into conversation. "Us three. Creedence. The two from One, the two from Two. Dannie. Both of Four-"