Snowdrop

Chapter 17

  By morning I'm stiff and sore, my muscles clenched from sitting still for so long. The sky is no longer a dull grey, a combination of ashfall and cloud cover, but a beautiful, azure blue, with puffy white clouds and birds flitting from tree to tree every so often. And it smells fantastic.
There's the vague scent of flowers and fruit in the air, and I have to restrain myself from sighing. Haymitch is still in the same place, gazing into the distance and picking at a loose thread on his shirt. The golden morning light glints off his dark hair.
"Guess the Gamemakers don't want it to snow, after all," he says, turning to smile at me.
An unexpected warmth fizzes in my stomach. Like – what would Kaitlynn call it? – butterflies. Yeah, butterflies. A mad frenzy of them, flying back and forth until I feel like they'll burst up out of my throat. I shiver, even though it's not cold, and dig my boots into the dirt.
Ember's twitching beside me, murmuring something like "No – no – not the cake..." Then he sits up, blinking blearily. "You guys stayed up all night? You should have woken me up." He stretches, his neck cracking loudly, and gives us a slightly reproachful look.
"Why?" Haymitch says. "You were asleep, and there's almost nobody left now."
"It's not really fair, is it? You getting no sleep," Ember responds.
"Nobody said the Games were fair, did they?" I smirk, and he pokes out his tongue.
"Oh, shut up, you," he says, reaching over to playfully punch my arm.
"I should be the one to shut up? What about you? You were muttering about cake just before!"
Haymitch guffaws at my brother's expression, and soon we're almost all rolling about on the ground in fits of laughter. It's only when the other two sit up, grumbling, that we stop. I sigh, wiping the tears from my eyes, as Bailey squints and rubs the back of her neck.
"What'd I miss? Are we doing anything today?" she asks.
Haymitch nods, still clutching his side. "Yeah – yeah. We should decide what we'll do about the last few tributes. But first we should eat something."
"Oh!" I exclaim. "The snares we set yesterday, Haymitch. We've lost them, and my coil of wire, too."
"That is a shame," Cella says, her mouth twisting in dismay. "I might be able to catch something, but someone'll need to set a fire. Why don't you do that, Ember, and Bailey can come with me. I suspect last night Haymitch and Melia started devising their own plan."
As Cella and Bailey go off to find food and Ember goes to get firewood, Haymitch takes out his knife and starts carving something into the dirt. He's absolutely silent, and I find myself watching him closely. Sweat plasters his hair to his forehead, and the bruises he's sustained are starting to fade to an ugly yellow-brown colour. Occasionally he pauses, tapping the tip of the knife against his mouth or temple, then starts drawing on the ground again. Lines and circles, scribbles that look like nothing.
"What are you doing?" I ask eventually.
He starts, like he's forgotten I'm here. "Just drawing a map."
"A map? What of?"
"Of the arena. See here?" He points at a large triangle near the middle of a much larger circle that surrounds the whole thing. "That's the Cornucopia. There's the mountain, over there, and we're, ah, round about here." He marks off a cross in the dirt, then turns to me with a devious smile. "I'm willing to bet that the Careers will have stumbled their way back to the Cornucopia so they've got the supplies again. They won't stray too far from it, because they'll probably assume we'll all go to them in search of extra supplies."
His eyes glitter, and I finally catch on. "You mean, we could ambush them? Oh, Haymitch, that's brilliant!"
"What's brilliant?"
We whip around, weapons already drawn to attack, but it's just Ember. He dumps a large armload of sticks on the ground and sets about making a fire.
"We've come up with a plan to ambush the Careers at the Cornucopia," I say, beaming. "Well, when I say 'we', I mean Haymitch. He's awesome – honestly, came up with the plan all by himself. Even drew a map of the arena."
Ember leans over to look at the drawing, and nods in approval. "That's clever. Really clever."
Haymitch gives a half-smile, and turns away to add more detail to the map. I find myself transfixed by the tip of his knife, digging into the ground, adding trees here, a winding stream there. It's fascinating, really, how he can create something so intricate with such limited supplies.
Before long, Cella and Bailey return with several fat rabbits. They set about gutting and cooking the meat over the fire, and Haymitch explains his plan.
"I spoke to Melia earlier, and we've agreed that we should head towards the Cornucopia over the next day or so. We can almost guarantee Blaze and Rouge will be hiding out by –"
"Blaze? Who's that?" Ember interrupts.
Haymitch looks irritated, but the expression is gone in an instant. "Rouge's district partner. That smug boy she kept snuggling up to during training. You snapped at him, I think, when they were picking on Melia. Anyway, they'll be hanging around the Horn where they can get the supplies. They'll be thinking the rest of us will have to go back to get things too, so they'll probably want to wait it out instead of wasting energy to go and look for us. So, Melia and I were thinking –"
"You keep saying you and Melia decided together," Ember says, interrupting again. "She already said it was you who had the idea, so why do you keep giving her credit for it?"
"She's your sister, isn't she? Shouldn't you be thanking me for it, even if I came up with most of the plan myself?" Haymitch snaps. "Now, if you'll shut up for five seconds, I'll finish explaining."
I watch my brother carefully, suddenly incredibly nervous. He gnashes his teeth, his fists clenching as though he's having to restrain himself from hitting Haymitch.
"As I was saying, we were thinking we could make the journey to the Cornucopia soon, before the Gamemakers pull out another trick. We can attack the Careers and catch them by surprise, and even though they've got the supplies and the skills, we're all quite fast, and they're outnumbered more than two to one."
I laugh shakily. "That's almost contradicting what you said last night. You said the odds of any of us getting home still aren't very favourable."
"Well, they're not." Haymitch shrugs. "But if we catch them off guard, we'll have a better chance of taking them out."
Cella reaches out to turn the meat, and nods slowly. "Yeah. Yeah, I think that could work."
"It's certainly our best bet at the moment," Bailey agrees. "Ember? What do you think?"
He simply gives a noncommittal grunt, and Haymitch rolls his eyes. "Look, Ember. I don't get what the hell has got into you, but honestly. At least try and be helpful. You're the oldest here, aren't you? Why not try acting like it?"
Oh, no, Haymitch, I think. Oh, you've really done it. Ember gives a harsh laugh and stands up.
"Listen here, I don't care what you think you're playing at. Trying to take the lead, flirting with my sister –"
"Hold on, what?"
Bailey laughs, but tries to disguise it as a cough. I just sit there, shocked into silence.
"You know exactly what I'm talking about!" Ember continues, actually shaking with anger. "You're being so nice to her, I've seen the way you look at her. She does it too. Those silly little doe eyes she makes whenever you talk."
I jump to my feet just as he gives Haymitch a shove. "Stop it – stop! Stop being an idiot, Ember!"
"I really think you should listen to her," Haymitch says, his arms raised in defence.
I step between them, my own arms raised. "Cut it out, Ember. You wouldn't do this back home, would you?"
"We're not home, are we?" Ember snaps. "And we're not going home."
"What happened to protecting each other?" says Haymitch, his voice raised. "You promised that during your interviews, didn't you?"
"What does it matter?" Ember says roughly. "We can't both go home, can we? And the odds are still against any of us making it back."
"You can still try. For God's sake, Ember, your fourteen-year-old sister is being more mature than you."
"Stop it!" I cry. "Stop it, please!"
Ember lunges forward, taking a swipe at Haymitch, but I leap between them. His fist catches my face and I screech, staggering back. My fingers clutch at my nose, which is already gushing blood.
"Agh! Ow – sh... oh, ow. Oww." I stumble, leaning back against a tree. My eyes flood with tears, but as Ember curses and tries to see if I'm all right, I shove him away. "Go away! Go away. Nothing's going on between Haymitch and I, you stupid idiot!"
I squeeze my eyes shut, whimpering. The hot, metallic taste of blood fills my mouth and I spit onto the ground. Someone grabs my shoulder, my arm, shaking gently, then pulls me to my feet and leads me a few paces away.
"Melia... Mel... come on. You're all right," Bailey says. "Come on, let's take a look-see." She gently pries my hands away from my face and cups my chin, tilting from side to side. She sucks her teeth, and I open my eyes. "Ouch. Might be broken, but there's not a lot we can do about that. I wish we had snow still; that might ease the pain. Maybe we have painkillers. I'll go and have a look, but just press this to your nose to try and stop the bleeding." She hands me a small strip of fabric that looks like it's been torn from her sleeve, then goes to look through the packs.
I press the cloth to my face, pinching the bridge of my nose between my fingers. All of this because of one conversation. I want to hit Ember for being so stupid. But then I look up and see his hunched shoulders and face red with shame, Cella standing anxiously between both boys, and I feel horrible.
Bailey comes back with a couple of pills and a bottle of water. "Here, take these. We've got a lot of them. Don't think I'll be able to do anything about the bruising or the swelling though, sorry."
"Mmph." I swallow the pills and lean against the tree, snorting blood onto the ground. "Ugh. This is so goddamn stupid. I can't believe he actually thinks there's something going on with me and Haymitch."
"Ember? He's a dork sometimes, you know that. And look at him, he feels terrible," Bailey says, gesturing to my brother. "He never meant to hurt you. Probably just wanted to throw a few punches to try and teach Haymitch a lesson that didn't need to be taught, and be done with the whole thing."
I hang my head, glaring at the crimson-spotted cloth clenched in my hand. "I just... I just feel so angry at him, even though I know it's not his fault."
Bailey winds an arm around me and squeezes my shoulder. "You know, it's kind of your fault. None of this would've happened if you hadn't volunteered. But we're gonna get through this, Melia. I promise we will." She leans over and presses her lips to my temple. "Now, stop being an idiot. We've got some Careers to kill."