Näljamängud

Хотя у Прим есть мама, и Гейл, и пекарь, обещавший о ней заботиться. У Руты есть только я.

Нельзя выказать слабость. Иначе помощи не жди. Жалким видом никого не удивишь. А вот стойкость часто вызывает восхищение.

– Да, на арене наверняка будет полно мешков с мукой, и я забросаю ими противников.

– Готовь нас вместе, – говорю я Хеймитчу, и Пит согласно кивает.
– Договорились. Теперь мне нужно получить представление о том, что вы умеете.
– Я – ничего, – отвечает Пит. – Разве что хлеб испечь придется.

I can’t help comparing what I have with Gale to what I’m pretending to have with Peeta. How I never question Gale’s motives while I do nothing but doubt the latter’s.

“Katniss,” I said, barely audible.

“Well, Catnip, stealing’s punishable by death, or hadn’t you heard?” he said.

Somehow the whole thing—his skill, those inaccessible cakes, the praise of the camouflage expert—annoys me.

Peeta rolls his eyes at Haymitch. “She has no idea. The effect she can have.”

“...You know what my mother said to me when she came to say good-bye, as if to cheer me up, she says maybe District Twelve will finally have a winner. Then I realized, she didn’t mean me, she meant you!” bursts out Peeta.

“Oh, she meant you,” I say with a wave of dismissal.

“She said, ‘She’s a survivor, that one.’ She is,” says Peeta

“She’s excellent,” says Peeta. “My father buys her squirrels. He always comments on how the arrows never pierce the body. She hits every one in the eye. It’s the same with the rabbits she sells the butcher. She can even bring down deer.”

“What’s an Avox?” I ask stupidly.

“Someone who committed a crime. They cut her tongue so she can’t speak,” says Haymitch.

“What do you think?” I whisper to Peeta.“About the fire?”

“I’ll rip off your cape if you’ll rip off mine,” he says through gritted teeth.

“Deal,” I say.

All of the pieces are still fitting together, but I sense he has a plan forming. He hasn’t accepted his death. He is already fighting hard to stay alive. Which also means that kind Peeta Mellark, the boy who gave me the bread, is fighting hard to kill me.

I thought of how I had yelled at her today in the Justice Building. I had told her I loved her, too, though. So maybe it would all balance out.

Except for the weekly lecture on the history of Panem. It’s mostly a lot of blather about what we owe the Capitol. I know there must be more than they’re telling us, an actual account of what happened during the rebellion. But I don’t spend much time thinking about it. Whatever the truth is, I don’t see how it will help me get food on the table.

...что бы они ни делали с нами, что бы ни принуждали делать нас, мы не принадлежим им без остатка. Рута - больше чем фигурка в их игре. И я тоже.

Улыбка Пита кажется такой искренней и немножко смущенной, что я невольно чувствую к нему теплоту.