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They muddy the water, to make it seem deep.
A strong current pushed her body to and fro, tumbling chaotically around in darkness like a puppet on strings. She couldn't breathe; opened her mouth to scream yet all that would fill her mouth was water. Her lungs burned as she tried to scream, but underneath the murky abyss there was no chance of anyone hearing her. She was moving downstream in a continuous path that led her to what, she didn't know. Fighting against the water, Cassia tried to reach out and grab onto something, but all she grasped were fistfuls of water. In a panic, she snapped her eyes open. Dark green eyes, full of a heartbeat, blinked back at her in the black twists of the water.
"Cassia," a hand rested on her shoulder.
She looked up to find Lark shaking her shoulder, a perplexed expression on his freckled face. "What?" She spit at him with a glare, staring down at her feet. They were waiting for their names to be called. Three's female tribute had just gone in.
"Nothing." He dropped his hand in his lap and turned to make small talk with the tributes from Five.
The laces in her shoes were neatly tied in a bow, she observed to distract herself from the dream she had the night before. It made her throat close up at the mere thought of it. Usually, she wasn't afraid of water; she grew up swimming before she could walk. But the water she dreamt of last night didn't feel like the salty warm waters of Four. This water was cold, empty and powerful. She had never felt anything like it.
She contemplated telling Finnick about it, just to tell someone how she was feeling, but she didn't want to seem weak all because of a dream. And she figured she and him weren't that close; she didn't need to start forming relationships with people, especially when she might not make it out of the arena.
"Lark Danvers, District Four," the voice on the speaker called. Peacekeepers came to retrieve him, leaving a little more than half of the tributes to sit in more silence than small talk. Cassia understood the silence. Who would want to talk to someone who would most likely slice your throat in a few days?
It was ironic of her, however, to think that way when she had formed somewhat of an alliance with the Careers, making her one of them. After they saw her throwing knives, the next day she was approached by the blonde girl, who she learned was named Clio. She was from District One, which wasn't very surprising from her high cheekbones and crystal blue eyes. She had a regal beauty about her that masked the fact that the girl probably knew how to kill her, from the training all Career Districts received. To them, it was an honor to serve in the Games. Which made Cassia talking to the girl sick to her stomach.
But Clio was no doubt smart. Cassia was fiddling with a makeshift fishhook and Clio was quickly learning how to make a slingshot. The blonde watched Cassia's fingers work with the thorn and a couple strands of her long dark hair. "We could use your skills," she casually said. "Griffin has taken a liking to you," she almost said in a bitter tone. That caught Cassia's attention.
"Griffin? Who is that?" She asked.
Clio rolled her eyes. "Tall, dark hair, from Two. Ring a bell?"
Cassia looked at her and then around the room. She found him staring at her before she could find him. An unsettling feeling erupted in her stomach as he bit the inside of his cheek, staring her down with heavy lidded eyes. She kept a neutral expression on her face and held eye contact for a few more seconds before turning back to Clio, who had witnessed the interaction with a stiff figure.
"Are you in or out?" Clio asked impatiently.
Cassia stared at the girl. Denying her offer would mean instant death. The second she stepped off her plate she would get a sword in her chest or a knife in her face, the options were endless on how they would kill her, but she knew they would find a way to do so because she had skills they lacked. They hadn't approached Lark because he was as clumsy as they came. They came to her because it was what she wanted, it was part of Finnick's plan, and so far so good. They had no idea she was manipulating them. But with her manipulating them, she had to stay sharp. She had to think about what they must be thinking and she knew that even if she joined them, she could still end up with that sword in her chest.
Glancing at Griffin one more time, she turned to Clio and made the fakest and most ecstatic grin she had ever done. "I'm in."
"Cassia Sommers, District Four," the voice caused her head to snap up.
Peacekeepers escorted her to the Training Center that had been cleared out for the evaluation. The Gamemakers watched, drinks and food in their hands, as she approached the array of weapons set up. There was no trace of what Lark had done, it was arranged as though no one had even touched anything in the room. Knowing she only had a limited time, she began to do what Finnick and her had mildly discussed beforehand. Scanning the room, she heard the Gamemakers quietly chatting and munching on food. It still amazed her that they could eat an entire buffet just for a measly sitting. The food would last her family at least a month.
She was supposed to throw some knives and spears, the way Finnick told her to. She was supposed to go with the plan. Though, as she picked up a long curved knife, she thought of Evelin. The way their blue eyes were a shared trait, how they would go to the docks early in the morning to try and get bargains at the shops, and how they would eventually find themselves at the beach collecting shells and making sandcastles. Every moment shared with her sister flashed through her mind like a moving scrapbook, blink by blink, every smile and flash of sunlight caressed her mind like a loving hand.
"Miss Sommers, your time is almost up," the Head Gamemaker, Poe Elders, announced to her. He was an older man, who Finnick said overlooked his Games. The man had dark metal colored hair and square glasses that tried to make him seem younger than he was and a light salt and pepper beard, but despite the makeup he wore, she saw the age in his skin. He wore a dark purple suit that matched the drink in his hand.
Smiling bitterly at them, she sashayed to the middle of the room, gripping the knife tightly in her hand and dropped to her knees on the hard floor. She then began to carve into the floor, quickly and efficiently. The screeching of the blade against the hard floor made her want to check to see if her ears were bleeding, but she kept on scratching into the floor, ignoring the complaints of the other Gamemakers. The blade was strong and sturdy and held up against the flooring surprisingly well. Swear trickled down her back as she used all of her strength to dig the blade into the floor. She felt an anger burst within her as she did so; something that couldn't have been contained if she wanted to.
When she was done, she proudly saw a target in the back of the room and threw the knife as hard as she could, the undeniable whizz of the weapon slicing through the air. It hit close to the bullseye, making her look better than she was anticipating.
She turned and raised her chin to Poe Elders, who was watching her with intrigue and surprise, the glass in his hand perched like a bird on a branch. They wouldn't be able to see what she wrote unless they asked one of the Peacekeepers, and she liked it that way. She figured they could benefit from doing something other than drinking. Without being dismissed, she left the room, escorted by Peacekeepers as the words "kill the king" burned a hole in the training center floor.
A/N:hey hey! i'm on a short winter break and found some inspiration to post! i apologize that it's been such a long time, i've really missed writing something that isn't an essay ahaha. i hope you guys enjoyed this chapter, let me know what you think down in the comments! also, thank you so much for getting this story to 2k! i can't believe it!
