The Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes (The Hunger Games, #0)

by Suzanne Collins

confined to such transport. Following orders, the tributes

If he backed down now, it would all be over. She would think he was a coward and dismiss him entirely.

He was in the monkey house at the zoo.

Snow’s meltdown! Make it part of the weather report. Too hot for Snow! They would rerun it as long as he lived. His disgrace would be complete.

Who were all these people hanging around on a weekday at the zoo? Didn’t they have jobs? Shouldn’t the children be in school? No wonder the country was such a mess.

taunting him.

course. He had to make this moment look intentional or it was

She’s onstage. You’re onstage. This is the show, he thought.

“It’s like a children’s rhyme. Hippity, hoppity, how was the zoo? You fell in a cage and your tribute did, too!”

“You’re good at games. Maybe one day you’ll be a Gamemaker.”

“The instinct is there. That’s what matters,”

“I don’t think she stands a chance of winning, but that isn’t the point, is it? I was told we were trying to engage the audience. That’s my assignment. To get people to watch. So I asked myself, how do I even reach the audience? I go where the cameras are.”

this one took the initiative. He understands the importance of keeping the Games alive.”

“Because . . . It’s because of the children. How they matter to people.”

“People love children,”

“Sometimes they do,” he added, but it lacked conviction. When he thought about it, people’s love of children seemed a very fickle thing. “I don’t know why,” he admitted.

The zoo was his show, and he and Lucy Gray were the stars.

win with Lucy Gray would be an incredible long shot but historic if he pulled it off. Besides, was winning even the point? Or was it to engage the audience?

“Sorry, my friend,” he said mildly. “But I think I’ll keep her.”

“So you’d like it if we gave odds on the tributes?” Coriolanus joked. “That would make you tune in?”

I want to go down in history as the one who brought gambling to the Games!”

She didn’t bother to put on her sparkly camera personality for him, and in a way he was glad. Maybe she was beginning to trust him.

He wanted to reach out and touch her face, to tell her that things were going to be all right.

Coriolanus felt himself blush a little at her teasing. “I’m pretty sure you could do better.”

the tribute yanked Arachne forward and slit her throat.

His terror was a private thing, not meant for public display.

That’s how it was with him: The wash of blood, the whiz of bullets, the screams in the crowd all caused flashbacks to the worst moments of his childhood.

As part of the wealthy old guard of the Capitol, she was family. And you didn’t have to like your family. The bond was a given.

He felt strangely detached from the action, as if all his emotional reserve had been depleted by his brief outburst in the shower.

he was relieved to see that the cameras had only recorded his attempt to save her, the moments when he appeared brave and responsible.

But actions spoke louder than words. Coriolanus to the rescue, Livia to the nearest exit.

Being a hero at home had its limitations; he needed a larger audience.

“There is a point to everything or nothing at all, depending on your worldview,”

The name jabberjay popped into his mind.

bird that could repeat human speech, that had been a tool for espionage until the rebels had figured out its abilities and sent it back carrying false information. Now

bad bruise on her arm had not been there the previous night. Who had hit her? Another tribute, or a guard?

It wiped away the last few shreds of resistance he had, and despair engulfed him. For her. For himself. For the both of them. “Oh, Lucy Gray, I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry about all of this.”

there’d been little music in his life until Lucy Gray appeared.

“But it’s meant the world having someone show up like I mattered.” “You do matter,” he said. “Well, there’s a lot of evidence to the contrary.” She rattled her chains and gave them a tug. And then, as if remembering something, she looked up at the sky. “You matter to me,” he insisted. The Capitol may not value her, but he did. Hadn’t he just poured his heart out to her?

“Hey, I want you to know I don’t really believe you’re here for grades or glory. You’re a rare bird, Coriolanus.” “You, too,” he said.

“Snow lands on top,” he said with so little conviction they had to laugh.

Today we honor her sacrifice with a reminder that while evil exists, it does not prevail.

Her hand found his, intertwining their fingers and sending a buzz through his body at their closeness. At this small intimacy in the dark. He gave her hand a final squeeze

For a moment he laughed, forgetting where they were, how depressing the backdrop. For a moment there was just her smile, the musical cadence of her voice, and the hint of flirtation. Then the world exploded.

Sweet, but unsettling, too.

She’s obviously a good person. Right from the beginning, she tried to protect you from the other tributes.”

They didn’t know who had set the bombs — rebels, yes, but from where? They could’ve been from any of the twelve districts, or a ragtag bunch that had escaped from District 13, or even, fate forbid, some long-dormant cell in the Capitol itself.

“It’s just the kind of story that catches fire.”

Not just the eyes but the jawline, the hair, the proud carriage. And Lucy Gray was right; his voice did have real authority. Overall, the performance was quite impressive.

In those few words he sensed a shift in their dynamic. As her mentor, he’d been the gracious giver of gifts, always to be met with gratitude. Now she’d upended things by giving him a gift beyond compare. On the surface, everything looked the same. Chained girl, boy offering food, Peacekeepers guarding that status quo. But deep down, things could never be the same between them. He would always be in her debt. She had the right to demand things.