The Fiction Games

Chapter Twenty-Nine - Inside the Nest

Night had fallen when Cair Paravel emerged at the horizon, situated on the edge of the world, beyond that a restless ocean. Moonlight glistened off the thousands of windows in the castle, just how the Pevensies remembered. A silver palace for the Narnian kings and queens. Only now did they see Cair Paravel as an execution site.

Every tribute had been stripped clean of everything they carried with them, but when the soldiers came across the Mockingjay Pin in Peeta's pocket, they laughed. "Where's your hope now, District Twelve?" said one of them.

District Twelve. He had almost forgotten about his home. Blown to rubble by the man who awaits their arrival. The man that ruined his life.

Let it be soon, thought Peeta. Katniss is waiting on the other side.

That slim chance she might be alive made his heart beat a dull lamentation. They don't know President Snow like Peeta does. They don't know the Capitol's potential of evil acts. Peeta was convinced the woman he loved was his own enemy. Returning to her arms was bitter memories; his first impulse was to strangle her. If they could manipulate him to kill his wife, how do they know they weren't being manipulated by Hades? Where is hope now?

 He closed the golden pin in his palm, and debated whether to throw the first chance he gets, or to fasten it over his heart, and die with his wife's last gift to him.

Michonne turned over Rick on his back, the bleeding finally at a halt. No more spells, no more magic water; he was left to fend off the infections burning his torn skin. Surprisingly he welcomed the wounds, feeling human for the first time since these Games began.

 "Can you walk?" asked Michonne.

That question seemed so rhetorical Rick couldn't help but laugh, but he regretted his sense of humor once his quick exhales punctured something new in his body. 

He could see tears in her eyes, rimming her eyelids and falling silently down her cheeks, but Rick could not compensate her woes. The life he was living kept smacking him over the head with the inevitable truth. He would think some place is safe; the camp, the farm, the prison, only to discover they would all end in teeth and bullets. Even in the Games, when he converted his faith to Aslan, believed every tribute would make it out alive, poured his effort in denying the Games' rules, in the end, he would be brought to the place where they shall dine with their fate.

Morgan was right. There was never hope to begin with.

"SHUT UP!" spat a soldier to the maniacal officer.

The hovercraft skidded to a stop on Cair Paravel's enormous courtyard of spiraling gold and silver bricks. Fire goblets hung on the ivy-covered stone walls, casting large, flickering shadows on the pavement.  Capitolians lined on the outskirts to watch the tributes being escorted out, hands over their head (except for Rick, who was dragged out by two soldiers.) 

From the courtyard, they entered the largest of the buildings, a tall, pointed structure of stone and stained glass windows. Besides the entire made of rock instead of ice, it was similar to the castle in the arena. 

With the same statues, too.

Six statues resembling the tributes who perished in the games were placed around the extravagent room like ornaments, artistic vases to the wonderful interior. Katniss Everdeen, Selina Kyle, Edward and Bella Cullen, Elizabeth Swann, Frodo Baggins and Eowyn were mere decorations, surrounded by gardens of white roses in perfect bloom. In the center, when the tributes took their eyes off their frozen companions, they saw President Snow.

Through all the strong rose aromas bouncing off the high walls of the room, the smell of metallic blood seeped under all of their noses, as though he used the scent as cologne. Hair slicked back and white as the roses around him, Snow sat on a single throne accompanied by two soldiers. A smiled curled on his lips, and he rose to greet them.

The staff in his hand Peeta thought was a walking cane seemed to be the same wand Princess Leia had when she was controlled by the White Witch. But the wand deemed more power in Snow's domain.

He spoke directly to Peeta, and no one else. "When civilizations crumble, what remains will build again  and learn from past mistakes. We may have been lenient on the destruction, deploying the incurable disease, covering the arena in snow, launching the sentinel program. All ended in vain. You see, the Gamemakers and I believed each element of the Games, taken from each realm, would result in a pretty interesting tournament. Sadly, we miscalculated. Predictions sprung about alliances, but never did we imagine a full allegiance to justice! Truly inspiring."

Aslan snarled. "Why have you spared us?"

Snow did not cower from Aslan's roar, but said nonchalantly, "I wanted to kill you myself."

Peeta stared at his wife, Katniss. She looked so brave, even in the midst of her permanent cement form. "Why leave Katniss in this state? What do you have to prove?"

"That I cannot be killed by the likes of you. That I hold the true power over your fates. And it will be tested tomorrow," said Snow. "On the courtyard, in public, where every last citizen of former Panem can see the true justice in action. The day the girl on fire and the boy with the bread burns in their own ashes!"

"Then kill us now!" Peeta said. "Let the others go."

"No," Snow replied. "I must rebuild from my mistakes. Everyone shall perish. To set an example for the future Games."

"WHAT YOU ARE DOING IS BREAKING THE LAWS BROUGHT FORTH BY THE KINGS AND QUEENS OF NARNIA," Aslan exploded. His claws tensed on the smooth marble floor. His long teeth gnashed. Dozens of soldiers immediately focused their weapons on the Giant Cat, a red dot in the center of the lion's muzzle. President Snow did not flinch.

"That brings me to my next point," said Snow. "You must fall as well, Aslan. You meddled with my Games long enough. Your civilization must crumble with your death, so mine can build from the debris."

Snow gestured toward the soldiers, and a few apprehended the lion with heavy shackles. Susan screamed, "Let him go!"

"Take him to the cell," ordered Snow.

The soldiers knocked Aslan over on his side, where he squirmed less. They disappeared in a couple of seconds.

"It is getting late," said the president. "I need to be well-rested for tomorrow. But there one more thing I must show you before I depart."

Inside his coat pocket, Snow pulled out a remote. When he pressed it, a screen appeared on the wall closest to them. On the image, the outside dome structure of the arena appeared, with at least twenty hovercrafts circling above.

"If I really wanted to kill you, I would've done this in the beginning," said Snow. "However, people like to be entertained. After tomorrow, I think they will have their fill."

He nodded to a soldier, who repeated orders to someone else on the other line. The tribute watched as the hovercrafts let small, black balls free. The first one touched the dome, and the ball expanded to an orange cloud of fire. Soon, all of the bombs detonated, and the dome collapsed in little chunks. The idea of Banner ever making out alive demolished at once.

Snow turned to Peeta. "It's the beginning of the end."

He raised his magic staff and touched the end to Peeta's heart. The boy with the bread's entire world fell to darkness.