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d； that Cato will be on one of our trails。 Either Threshˇs or mine。 Iˇm seized with terror； weak from my head wound； shaking。 I load an arrow； but Cato can throw that spear almost as far as I can shoot。
Only one thing calms me down。 Thresh has Catoˇs backpack containing the thing he needs desperately。 If I had to bet； Cato headed out after Thresh； not me。 Still I donˇt slow down when I reach the water。 I plunge right in； boots still on； and flounder downstream。 I pull off Rueˇs socks that Iˇve been using for gloves and press them into my forehead； trying to staunch the flow of blood； but theyˇre soaked in minutes。
Somehow I make it back to the cave。 I squeeze through the rocks。 In the dappled light； I pull the little orange backpack from my arm； cut open the clasp； and dump the contents on the ground。 One slim box containing one hypodermic needle。 Without hesitating； I jam the needle into Peetaˇs arm and
slowly press down on the plunger。
My hands go to my head and then drop to my lap； slick with blood。
The last thing I remember is an exquisitely beautiful greenand… silver moth landing on the curve of my wrist。
22
The sound of rain drumming on the roof of our house gently pulls me toward consciousness。 I fight to return to sleep though； wrapped in a warm cocoon of blankets； safe at home。 Iˇm vaguely aware that my head aches。 Possibly I have the flu and this is why Iˇm allowed to stay in bed； even though I can tell Iˇve been asleep a long time。 My motherˇs hand strokes my cheek and I donˇt push it away as I would in wakefulness； never wanting her to know how much I crave that gentle touch。 How much I miss her even though I still donˇt trust her。 Then thereˇs a voice； the wrong voice； not my motherˇs； and Iˇm scared。
¨Katniss；〃 it says。 ¨Katniss； can you hear me？〃
My eyes open and the sense of security vanishes。 Iˇm not home； not with my mother。 Iˇm in a dim； chilly cave； my bare feet freezing despite the cover； the air tainted with the unmistakable smell of blood。 The haggard； pale face of a boy slides into view； and after an initial jolt of alarm； I feel better。 ¨Peeta。〃
¨Hey；〃 he says。 ¨Good to see your eyes again。〃
¨How long have I been out？〃 I ask。
¨Not sure。 I woke up yesterday evening and you were lying next to me in a very scary pool of blood；〃 he says。 ¨I think itˇs stopped finally； but I wouldnˇt sit up or anything。〃
I gingerly lift my hand to my head and find it bandaged。 This simple gesture leaves me weak and dizzy。 Peeta holds a bottle to my lips and I drink thirstily。
¨Youˇre better；〃 I say。
¨Much better。 Whatever you shot into my arm did the trick；〃 he says。 ¨By this morning； almost all the swelling in my leg was gone。〃
He doesnˇt seem angry about my tricking him； drugging him； and running off to the feast。 Maybe Iˇm just too beat…up and Iˇll hear about it later when Iˇm stronger。 But for the moment； heˇs all gentleness。
¨Did you eat？〃 I ask。
¨Iˇm sorry to say I gobbled down three pieces of that groosling before I realized it might have to last a while。 Donˇt worry； Iˇm back on a strict diet；〃 he says。
¨No； itˇs good。 You need to eat。 Iˇll go hunting soon；〃 I say。
¨Not too soon； all right？〃 he says。 ¨You just let me take care of you for a while。〃
I donˇt really seem to have much choice。 Peeta feeds me bites of groosling and raisins and makes me drink plenty of water。 He rubs some warmth back into my feet and wraps them in his jacket before tucking the sleeping bag back up around my chin。
¨Your boots and socks are still damp and the weatherˇs not helping much；〃 he says。 Thereˇs a clap of thunder； and I see lightning electrify the sky through an opening in the rocks。 Rain drips through several holes in the ceiling； but Peeta has built a sort of canopy over my head an upper body by wedging the square of plastic into the rock above me。
¨I wonder what brought on this storm？ I mean； whoˇs the target？〃 says Peeta。
¨Cato and Thresh；〃 I say without thinking。 ¨Foxface will be in her den somewhere； and Clove 。 。 。 she cut me an then 。 。 。〃 My voice trails off。
¨I know Cloveˇs dead。 I saw it in the sky last night；〃 he says。 ¨Did you kill her？〃
¨No。 Thresh broke her skull with a rock；〃 I say。
¨Lucky he didnˇt catch you； too；〃 says Peeta。
The memory of the feast returns full…force and I feel sick。 ¨He did。 But he let me go。〃 Then； of course； I have to tell him。 About things Iˇve kept to myself because he was too sick to ask and I wasnˇt ready to relive anyway。 Like the explosion and my ear and Rueˇs dying and the boy from District 1 and the bread。 All of which leads to what happened with Thresh and how he was paying off a debt of sorts。
¨He let you go because he didnˇt want to owe you anything？〃 asks Peeta in disbelief。
¨Yes。 I donˇt expect you to understand it。 Youˇve always had enough。 But if youˇd lived in the Seam； I wouldnˇt have to explain；〃 I say。
¨And donˇt try。 Obviously Iˇm too dim to get it。〃
¨Itˇs like the bread。 How I never seem to get over owing you for that；〃 I say。
¨The bread？ What？ From when we were kids？〃 he says。 ¨I think we can let that go。 I mean； you just brought me back from the dead。〃
¨But you didnˇt know me。 We had never even spoken。 Besides； itˇs the first gift thatˇs always the hardest to pay back。 I wouldnˇt even have been here to do it if you hadnˇt helped me then；〃 I say。 ¨Why did you； anyway？〃
¨Why？ You know why；〃 Peeta says。 I give my head a slight； painful shake。 ¨Haymitch said you would take a lot of convincing。〃
¨Haymitch？〃 I ask。 ¨Whatˇs he got to do with it？〃
¨Nothing；〃 Peeta says。 ¨So； Cato and Thresh； huh？ I guess itˇs too much to hope that theyˇll simultaneously destroy each other？〃
But the thought only upsets me。 ¨I think we would like Thresh。 I think heˇd be our friend back in District Twelve；〃 I say。
¨Then letˇs hope Cato kills him； so we donˇt have to；〃 says Peeta grimly。
I donˇt want Cato to kill Thresh at all。 I donˇt want anyone else to die。 But this is absolutely not the kind of thing that victors go around saying in the arena。 Despite my best efforts； I can feel tears starting to pool in my eyes。
Peeta looks at me in concern。 ¨What is it？ Are you in a lot of pain？〃
I give him another answer； because it is equally true but can be taken as a brief moment of weakness instead of a terminal one。 ¨I want to go home； Peeta；〃 I say plaintively； like a small child。
¨You will。 I promise；〃 he says； and bends over to give me a kiss。
¨I want to go home now；〃 I say。
¨Tell you what。 You go back to sleep and dream of home。 And youˇll be there for real before you know it；〃 lie says。 ¨Okay？〃
¨Okay；〃 I whisper。 ¨Wake me if you need me to keep watch。〃
¨Iˇm good and rested； thanks to you and Haymitch。 Besides； who knows how long this will last？〃 he says。
What does he mean？ The storm？ The brief respite ii brings us？ The Games themselves？ I donˇt know； but Iˇm ion sad and tired to ask。
Itˇs evening when Peeta wakes me again。 The rain has turned to a downpour； sending streams of water through our ceiling where earlier there had been only drips。 Peeta has placed the broth pot under the worst one