"Was that-?" I ask.
"Yeah, it was," Kirwan says.
"Which means-"
"I know," he cuts me off. He hasn't been looking so well. Ever since yesterday, when Carama and the boy from 4 died, he's been quieter and distant. He does a lot of hunting. I come with him, but it isn't the same when we're out in the forest trying hard not to make a sound.
And now one of the Careers is dead. And there's only us three left. Our allegiance should have dissolved a long time ago. In fact, it shouldn't have even begun. I look up at him. He's skinning a squirrel with vigor. I watch his hands move along the length of the animal's body. He should have done that to me a long time ago. Killed me and taken my supplies. Why not?
I've been battered and bruised. My wounds from the birds are aching again, my burn from the mutt's blood has not gotten better, and my head still spins sometimes as a result of the attack by the girl from 10. My hands are bandaged and bloody. I have only one weapon. I am a trainwreck. Why would he keep me, especially since there are only three of us left?
I ask him. "Kirwan, why didn't you kill me?" He looks up at me but doesn't say anything. "You should have let me die when I crawled up from the cliff. And taken my supplies. Why not? I should be home in a pine box by now."
He puts the squirrel down and wipes his hands on his clothes. He comes over and sits next to me. I'm drawing a map of the arena on the rock with dirt and my finger. I've got the Cornucopia down, and the sites of where I've stayed as close as I can measure. He leans his head on my shoulder. A little shiver runs down my spine, but I don't say anything.
There's a long silence before he speaks. "I didn't kill you because I've seen you fight. I watched you when the training was going on. I watched you at the Cornucopia. You didn't become a Career. You chose to play on your own terms instead. That's why."
"Okay," I say, even though I know there's more, and leave it at that.
In the afternoon, I announce the idea that's been buzzing in my head all day. "We need to kill her."
"Who?" he asks.
"Valzen. We need to kill her. After that, there's only us left."
"Ayla, we don't even know if it's Valzen who is still out there or not. It could be Ebb. There's a 50/50 chance that it's him."
"No," I say, looking out over the forest. "The odds are in her favor. They always have been." I think of Valzen, of her gray eyes: cold and unfeeling. I get up and stretch out my arms and legs. "What are you doing?" Kirwan asks.
"I'm going after her," I say. "You can come with me if you want or not." I pull out my boomerang: my only weapon that remains besides my bare fists and teeth. He gets up. "Wait for me, Ayla." He grabs his spear and runs to catch up to me, because I'm already running down the slope of the mountain. We don't even stop to put out the fire, because we both know that we aren't coming back.
At the bottom of the mountain, he puts his hand on my shoulder to stop me. "What?" I whisper. "Did you see her?" He doesn't respond through words. Instead, he pulls me to him and kisses me full on the lips. After a while, we pull away. I stare at him, aware that the cameras are probably focused on us. "That's why I didn't kill you."
We move through the woods silently, towards the sound of the cannon. My heart and head are still pounding with Kirwan's kiss. We reach a spot that I recognize. It's the clearing with the ferns that I rested in after being attacked by the lion-snake.
We sit down by the banks of the little brook. He runs his hands through the water, now completely clear again. He and I don't say anything. We both know the truth. I will have to kill him, or him me if our plan succeeds. The Gamemakers don't care for love.
It's quiet, and for a minute, I can pretend that we're sitting in the woods, free of cameras and a bloodthirsty tribute and the thousands of viewers in the Capitol and the Districts. Free of the Capitol.
I drink from the river, putting my head down into the river. I wash the mud from my bright hair. I don't need to be camouflaged anymore. Finally he speaks. "Do you remember your outfit on the opening night?"
"How can I forget?" I laugh,.
"They painted you white," he says thoughtfully. "You were beautiful."
And then the knife flicks out of the shadows and plunges deep into his chest.
I'm not sure if it's me who is screaming, or him. All I know is that I whirl around to catch a glimpse of a cold smile and gray eyes before Valzen steps back into the woods. I whip my boomerang at her, but my aim is unsteady and it goes careening into the woods. I know it won't return to me.
I turn back to Kirwan. He lies on his back, his left hand floating in the brook, still playing with the water. I leap over to him and take him in my arms. The knife thrown by Valzen sticks out of his left side, over his heart. The words of the knife-throwing trainer come back to me. If you hit them in the heart, they're gone for good.
I find my voice through my tears. I'm crying, crying like a child and calling his name. "Kirwan. Kirwan. Don't die. Please, I need you. I need you."
His copper eyes find mine. "No, Ayla," he says, blood coming from his mouth. "You're gonna be fine. You can survive without me. It's amazing how much a person can survive without." He starts to shiver in my arms. I pull the knife out and lay it on the side.
Blood. There's so much. A red color that stands out against his dark clothes. I can't see much through my tears. "Kirwan. Please," I whisper. I press my forehead to his. "Don't leave me." Blood is staining my clothes now. His blood. There's so much of it.
"I have to, Ayla," he says softly. I can barely hear him anymore.
"No," I say, and kiss him, as if that can bring him back to me. My ally, my friend, my love. The love that was cut short by the knife of one without.
"Ayla. Promise me. Promise me you'll win."
"I-I promise. I love you."
"I love you too." His eyes are starting to glaze over. "Ayla."
"Yes?"
"You were so pretty. So beautiful. When they painted you white."
"I know."
"Ayla?"
"What?"
Silence. "Kirwan? What?"
"You're going to be fine."
Then he's gone.
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