CHAPTER FOUR

When I get home, only my brother is sat in the living room, flicking through television channels. He sees me coming through the door. 'Hey, Artella,' he says. 'Nothing on TV,' he says, gesturing at the screen, which is on a shopping channel.

'Not watching the news?'

'It's only the Games on the news, I know what I want to know about the Games,' he shrugs. 'You should go and watch this year.'

In the Capitol, there are seating arenas set up for people in each area of the city to watch the Games on cinema screens, but outdoors. You book your seats and you can leave them and go back any time during the Games. Diehards sleep out there. I've never gone, because I've always been too young to go without a parent and neither of my parents is willing to take me. But maybe my brother's right, I should go this year, with Westia, Alnathia and Vilenna. We could just take the time to sit at the back and gossip, there's no need to actually watch.

Then I am sickened. It's alright for me to say. What about Katniss Everdeen and the baker boy from 12? And the 11 year old from 11? And the girl who looked like a fox from 5? They would hate to think that Capitol girls are taking this time to sit and chat while they fight for their lives. I almost throw up!

'Don't tell me you're backing out because you don't like the Games,' ridicules my brother, and I immediately think of something that will stop him wanting me to come.

'I could go with you and your friends.'

It works.

'Um, maybe not. Maybe your friends are too young, so you're too young ...'

I leave the room and go up to my bedroom to read a book. I go on the computer and I've received several messages from friends, so I send one to Alnathia.

Hey, do you want to come down to the park?

Less than half a minute later I get a reply.

Yes please, family are being annoying.

So I sneak out of the house and meet her down at the swings that we spent ages laughing at President Snow on. They face a long street of tall, terraced buildings with statues and patterns on them. Probably some government headquarters. In the dark night, the only light is that of a flickering red street lamp.

'Are you going to watch the Games?' she asks as we sit, swinging feebly.

'My brother asked me if I was going earlier. He asked if I was going with any of you guys.'

'I was wondering if you'd like to go,' says Alnathia.

'We could. Don't you think it'd be a bit ...'

'I know, that was my worry,' she agrees. 'But if just the two of us went, we could leave if it was too bad.'

'Wouldn't you feel bad?'

'The tributes probably don't want us watching their gruesome deaths.'

I hadn't thought of that approach.

Then all of a sudden, we hear voices approaching us. Male voices. We both shoot a terrified look at each other. 'Hide!' hisses Alnathia, and we both get off the swings and out of the park to hide behind a post box. It's getting dark and we've been taught all about random strangers in parks when you're on your own.

'The girl from 12. What's she doing here? How is she doing in training?' says the first voice. It's very deep and sounds very important – maybe he's staying in the tall government terrace next to us.

'She's doing well. Better in archery than anything else, I hear,' says another voice. So this person has access to the tributes in training.

'She seems the rebellious type.'

'Perhaps she is. I haven't heard of any problems.'

'Seneca, perhaps I haven't been clear enough. I want you to keep as close an eye as possible on that girl!'

My heart gives a jolt. Seneca is the first name of the head Gamemaker – his full name is Seneca Crane. I look over to Alnathia, trying to say with my facial expression, let's go now. But she doesn't catch on.

'But President -!'

Alnathia gasps. I clap my hand over my mouth as silently as possible. We're eavesdropping on President Snow. This is the man who can send twenty three teenagers to their deaths without batting an eyelid. I make frantic gestures to Alnathia with my eyes, but she doesn't notice.

'Seneca, you must be curious as to why I have chosen to speak to you in a playground in the middle of Thathyst, not in my own private gardens at home. After all, the districts don't even know this place exists – they only know of Lupanity, it's the only part they see. Would you like to know?'

'Yes,' says Seneca, although he doesn't sound desperate to find out.

'Because there is more of a chance of being overheard,' he says. I nearly have a heart attack. So is it a good thing that we can overhear him, because that's what he wants? But why does he want it? Or is it a bad thing, because he could be using it to kill more people? Or he's tricking us? Or he knows we're here? 'In the arena this year I would like plenty of nutrition, everywhere, for the tributes. Growing in the plants. Whole hedges of ... berries.'

'Berries?'

'Yes. Perfectly innocent, berries. We shall go in now, and if anyone has overheard us, they can take back what they know as gossip and they can share it for everyone to know.'

Snow and Crane leave the playground and we stay hidden. Seneca looks troubled. I look at Alnathia.

'I think we need to find out what he means by berries,' says Alnathia.

'It's some sort of code,' I say. 'Because one thing's for certain – he doesn't want nutrition for the tributes.'