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The Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes #4

“I like yours, too.” The girl’s dress was a faded, printed thing, nothing to remark on. But Lucy Gray said, “Polka dots always make me feel happy,” and the girl beamed.

Coriolanus could sense the audience beginning to warm up to his tribute, no longer bothering to keep their distance. People were easy to manipulate when it came to their children. So pleased to see them pleased.

Instinctively, Lucy Gray seemed to know this, ignoring the adults as she moved along. She had almost reached one of the cameras and its accompanying reporter. She must have sensed it, but when she rose and found it directly in her face, she gave a slight start, then laughed. “Oh, hi there. Are we on television?”

The Capitol reporter, a young man eager for a story, leaned in hungrily. “We certainly are.”

“And who might you be?” she asked.

“I’m Lepidus Malmsey with Capitol News,” he said, flashing a grin. “So, Lucy, you’re the tribute from District Twelve?”

“It’s Lucy Gray and I’m not really from Twelve,” she said. “My people are Covey. Musicians by trade. We just took a wrong turn one day and were obliged to stay.”

“Oh. So . . . what district are you from, then?” asked Lepidus.

“No district in particular. We move from place to place as the fancy takes us.” Lucy Gray caught herself. “Well, we used to anyway. Before the Peacekeepers rounded us up a few years back.”

“But now you’re District Twelve citizens,” he insisted.

“If you say so.” Lucy Gray’s eyes drifted back to the crowd as if she was in danger of being bored.

The reporter could feel her slipping away. “Your dress has been a big hit in the Capitol!”

“Has it? Well, the Covey love color, and me more than most. But this was my mama’s, so it’s extra special to me,” she said.

“She in District Twelve?” Lepidus asked.

“Just her bones, darling. Just her pearly white bones.” Lucy Gray stared directly at the reporter, who seemed to have trouble forming his next question. She watched him struggle for a moment, then gestured to Coriolanus. “So, do you know my mentor? Says his name is Coriolanus Snow. He’s a Capitol boy and clearly I got the cake with the cream, ’cause nobody else’s mentor even bothered to show up to welcome them.”

“Well, he gave us all a surprise. Did your teachers tell you to be here, Coriolanus?” asked Lepidus.

Coriolanus stepped toward the camera and tried for likable with a hint of roguishness. “They didn’t tell me not to.” Laughter rippled through the crowd. “But I do remember them saying that I was to introduce Lucy Gray to the Capitol, and I take that job seriously.”

“So you didn’t have a second thought about diving into a cage of tributes?” prompted the reporter.

“A second, a third, and I imagine the fourth and fifth will be hitting me sometime soon,” admitted Coriolanus. “But if she’s brave enough to be here, shouldn’t I be?”

“Oh, for the record, I didn’t have a choice,” said Lucy Gray.

“For the record, neither did I,” said Coriolanus. “After I heard you sing, I couldn’t keep away. I confess, I’m a fan.” Lucy Gray gave her skirt a swish as a smattering of applause came from the crowd.

“Well, I hope for your sake the Academy agrees with you, Coriolanus,” said Lepidus. “I think you’re about to find out.”

Coriolanus turned to see metal doors, their windows reinforced with grates, swinging open in the back of the monkey house. A quartet of Peacekeepers marched in and headed straight for him. He turned to the camera, intent on making a good exit.

“Thank you for joining us,” he said. “Remember, it’s Lucy Gray Baird, representing District Twelve. Drop by the zoo if you have a minute and say hello. I promise she’s well worth the effort.”

Lucy Gray extended her hand to him with the delicate droop of the wrist that invited a kiss. He obliged, and when his lips brushed her skin, he felt a pleasant tingle. After giving the audience one last wave, he stepped up calmly to meet the Peacekeepers. One nodded tersely, and without a word he followed them from the enclosure to a respectable applause.

When the doors closed behind him, his breath came out in a huff and he realized how afraid he’d been. He silently congratulated himself for maintaining grace under pressure, but the scowls of the Peacekeepers suggested they did not share his opinion.

“What are you playing at?” a Peacekeeper demanded. “You’re not allowed in there.”

“So I thought, until your cohorts unceremoniously dumped me down a chute,” Coriolanus replied. He thought the combination of cohorts and unceremoniously had just the right note of superiority. “I only signed up for the ride to the zoo. I’d be happy to explain the whole thing to your presiding officer and identify the Peacekeepers who did this. But to you, I offer my thanks.”

“Uh-huh,” she said flatly. “We have orders to escort you to the Academy.”

“Even better,” said Coriolanus, sounding more confident than he felt. The quick reaction from the school unsettled him.

Although the television in the backseat of the Peacekeeper van was broken, he was able to catch glimpses of the story along the way on the huge public screens that dotted the Capitol. Nervous energy began to bubble up as he saw images of first Lucy Gray, then himself, beaming out over the city. He could never have planned anything this audacious, but since it had happened, he might as well enjoy it. And really, he thought, he had given a fine performance. Kept his head. Stood his ground. Featured the girl, and she was a natural. Handled it all with dignity and a little ironic humor.

By the time he reached the Academy, he had recovered his composure and ascended the steps with assurance. It helped that every head was turning his way, and had there been no Peacekeepers to hold them at bay, he felt sure his schoolmates would have swarmed him. He thought he’d be taken to the office, but the guard deposited him on the bench outside the door to, of all places, the high biology lab, which was restricted to the senior students most gifted in the science. Although it was not his favorite subject — the smell of formaldehyde triggered his gag reflex, and he loathed working with a partner — he did sufficiently well in genetic manipulation to have landed a spot in the class. Nothing like that whiz Io Jasper, who seemed to have been born with a microscope attached to her eye. He was always gracious to Io, though, and as a result, she adored him. With unpopular people, such a minor effort went such a long way.

But who was he to feel superior? Across from the bench, on the bulletin board for student notices, a memo had been posted. It read:

10th HUNGER GAMES

MENTOR ASSIGNMENTS

DISTRICT 1
BoyLiviaw Cardew
GirlPalmyra Monty
DISTRICT 2
BoySejanus Plinth
GirlFlorus Friend
DISTRICT 3
BoyIo Jasper
GirlUrban Canville
DISTRICT 4
BoyPersephone Price
GirlFestus Creed
DISTRICT 5
BoyDennis Fling
GirlIphigenia Moss
DISTRICT 6
BoyApollo Ring
GirlDiana Ring
DISTRICT 7
BoyVipsania Sickle
GirlPliny Harrington
DISTRICT 8
BoyJuno Phipps
GirlHilarius Heavensbee
DISTRICT 9
BoyGaius Breen
GirlAndrocles Anderson
DISTRICT 10
BoyDomitia Whimsiwick
GirlArachne Crane
DISTRICT 11
BoyClemensia Dovecote
GirlFelix Ravinstill
DISTRICT 12
BoyLysistrata Vickers
GirlCoriolanus Snow

Could there be a more stinging public reminder of his precarious position than to be dangling there at the end like an afterthought?

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