The Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes: Chapters 5–10

Coriolanus had never received an official reprimand of any kind, nothing that would stain his spotless record.

“Go, before you receive a second for insubordination,” said Dean Highbottom.

The soft orange glow of the sunset suffused the city, and a cool breeze swept away the suffocating heat of the day.

A bedraggled toucan squawked high in the branches, fluttering freely from one enclosure to the next.

To his chagrin, he saw Sejanus standing at the edge of the cage with a large backpack beside him.

And in truth, he had no interest in ceding the stage to Sejanus. The zoo was his show, and he and Lucy Gray were the stars.

“Keep up your strength.”
“Why? So I can break Jessup’s neck in the arena? We both know that’s not my forte,” she said.

He’d missed his lunch at the Academy today, and breakfast and supper had been meager at home.

Should he really be helping her solicit the citizens for food?

Coriolanus stood transfixed by the music and the rush of memories that accompanied it.

Now he was coming for his apartment, his spot at the University, his very future, and had the gall to be resentful of his good fortune.

At the Academy, Coriolanus felt his apprehension melt away as he basked in the response to his recklessness the previous day.

Seeing her in chains disquieted him, but he gave her a reassuring smile, and some of the worry left her face.

An untouched meal of roast beef sandwiches and cake languished between them.

Sejanus was speaking entreatingly, but Marcus just stared fixedly ahead, his arms crossed, his whole being unresponsive.

Morning attendance may have been scanty, but now visitors were pouring in so quickly he wasn’t sure he’d get a spot up front at the monkey house.

She gave him a wistful smile. “Sure would’ve been nice to meet you under different circumstances.”

Maybe he should make it a provision of the proposal that you couldn’t send your own tribute gifts.

Losing himself in the assignment helped to calm him, and he preferred working in solitude, not having to parry the thoughts of his classmates diplomatically.

In rhetoric class, she’d once attributed his inability to decipher the deeper meaning of a poem to the fact that he was too self-absorbed.

They walked along a wall of glass cases fifteen feet high. Inside, a menagerie of creatures, some familiar, some altered to the point that no label could easily be attached, roamed and panted and flopped around in apparent unhappiness.

Trash from the fleeing crowd was still strewn along the path to the monkey house.

The Academy and the surrounding buildings were festooned with funereal banners and sported Capitol flags in every window.

This further display of Dr. Gaul’s callousness made him feel mutinous.

This further display of Dr. Gaul’s callousness made him feel mutinous.

“Put it here,” he said with a furtive glance.

The mentors were directed to take their places beside their respective tributes, who’d been lined up numerically, so he was near the end with Lucy Gray.

This entrance was for the poor people, Coriolanus thought. Or perhaps not poor. The word plebeian came to mind.

The Snow family had entered the arena at another entrance, demarcated by a velvet rope.

Their directive had been clear; gravity and retribution were the hallmarks of the day.

Satyria’s use of the term tour had suggested a sightseeing excursion, and while he had not anticipated pleasure, he had not expected the palpable sadness of the place either.

Coriolanus remembered the circus performers taking the same route, riding elephants and horses, bespangled and brimming with mirth.

For a moment there was just her smile, the musical cadence of her voice, and the hint of flirtation.

You could be bombed anywhere, but usually he had a better place to shelter than this. Now, naked to the attack, lying in the open air, he waited for the interminable “bomb time” to end and wondered how much damage his internal organs were incurring.

He had a vague thought that this would not be conducive to her singing.

What had happened—at least what the Capitol News claimed had happened—frightened citizens with both its immediate fallout and its ramifications for the future.

He’d genuinely liked Pollo and Didi, how they’d doted on each other, how upbeat they’d been.

Was she lying inert on the floor, overcome by injuries and hunger?

The fresh night air perfumed by the flowers helped, but soon brought on a bout of shivering that made everything hurt again.

“No, thank you for saving my life.” He said it lightly, but as he gazed into her eyes, the levity leached away.