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WORLD ON FIRE
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ONTARI FEELS THE darkness thrumming in her veins. It dances through the sky, the jungle, even the ocean, casting ominous shadows over the waves as they churn, sloshing over the abandoned tribute pedestals. It even worms its way into her heart. Tonight is the night that their plan goes into effect. She isn't sure at what point the District Thirteen hovercrafts will show up. Tomorrow after the wave hits?

Of course, whenever it is, this isn't where the journey ends— there will be repercussions that they will have to face when this is over. If they succeed — and they will, she forces herself to believe — she doesn't know what will happen. There's still the matter of doing something about Snow. Ontari might even volunteer to end his life herself when the time comes. Or maybe, she'll gather up the rest of the remaining tributes and allow them to take a shot at him any way they'd like, going down the line, each person giving him a mere taste of the pain he's caused them. But who would land the final blow? Who deserves it the most, out of all of them?

A knuckle prodding her shoulder drags her out of her contemplation of Snow's demise. A hand presents a palmful of oysters and a few pieces of bread. Ontari's eyes travel up the person's arm to see Finnick's curious gaze watching her, likely wondering what kind of daze she'd been trapped in. Maybe she'll tell him once they escape this hellhole and they'll both trade ideas of Snow's death back and forth. But for now, they're surrounded by hundreds of cameras and microphones, and Ontari still has family to protect. Admitting she'd been fantasizing about killing the President is a surefire way for them to be killed. Starting with Hestia.

Once she accepts his offering of food, Finnick plops down beside her with a sigh. "You ready for tonight?"

Ontari toys with one of the rolls. "Yeah. As ready as I'll ever be, I suppose."

"Me too."

Dusk settles, smothering the pale sky with more streaks of gray and black. The lines in Finnick's face harshen as a result. For the first time, she can see just how tired he is. These Games have not only taken a toll on them physically, but mentally as well. And he's seemed spaced-out since the attack by the jabberjays. If he'd heard her being tortured, what kind of mind games have been lurking around in his brain?

"Like what you see?" he questions with a wry smirk at his lame joke. But then the grin widens, turns into something sadly familiar as he turns to face her with a twinkle in his eyes that she's seen a million times.

Ontari is struck with the realization that he has put his mask back on. Her heart aches, yearning to see the real Finnick beneath the persona that he's putting on for the cameras. She's sure that they're focused on them— the two lovers who'd confessed just a day before the Games, who'd had such little time together.

She slips into her own mask as easily as she'd put on a coat. Instantly, her posture straightens, head tilting to the side as she regards him with her own suggestive expression. "I always have."

A spark lights in Finnick's eyes that she isn't sure is entirely for show. A tiny grin quirks up his lip before it disappears, replaced by his lips parting and chin inclining toward her. Ontari allows him to come within a hair's breadth of her mouth before she draws away and eats a chunk of bread with an expression of nonchalance. Finnick hangs there dumbly for a second, blinking, then scrunches his face at her teasing.

"Your breath smells like fish," she says in a false explanation.

Finnick raises his eyebrows so high they nearly disappear under the blond waves that sweep across his forehead. "That's what you're worried about?"

Ontari dutifully ignores him and continues her meal. Luckily, the anthem blares before Finnick can ask another question. Both of their eyes turn to the sky, as does the rest of their alliances', but there aren't any faces in the sky tonight. The Capitol will be restless, thirsting for blood.

She turns around to see Beetee and Cassian having a hushed conversation by themselves. Her eyebrows furrow. They must be discussing their plans for tonight, but why not include everyone in the discussion? It involves all of them. Unless it doesn't...

Not for the first time, that anxious feeling that her brother has a larger role in this alliance than she realizes surges up within her. She can't help but feel the tiniest bit betrayed. She'd shared everything she'd known about the alliance — everything — and had assumed he'd do the same in regards to her. They've never been ones to keep things like this from each other.

"Hey," Finnick says softly, letting his grip on his façade slip just enough for her to see the real him when she turns away from the other two men. It provides a wash of comfort that slightly easies her present worries. "You guys will talk it out. You always do. And if you don't, you can find another way to work it through this rough patch."

Ontari twists her mouth to the side at his words. The Nightfall siblings have always talked their differences out — except for Hestia, who prefers to either drink her feelings or grind them down to fine dust — and this time should be no different. It's just this awful arena making her lose her grip on reality.

She's seen that before— tributes who get so caught up in the game that they lose their minds. It had happened to one of her mentees about four years ago. The kid, a thirteen-year-old boy named Thread, had slipped into insanity after witnessing a girl from Five get blown to bits right in front of him. He'd been too afraid to move in case he'd also step on another landmine. As a result, he'd become delirious from dehydration until another tribute found and killed him.

She doesn't want to think about her brother's unknown role or possible secrets. She doesn't want to think about their elaborate plan to get to District Thirteen or the fact that she's even here, right now, in this arena. She doesn't want to think at all.

And so Ontari abruptly surges forward and cups Finnick's jaw with one hand, kissing him. He seems to sense the urgency in her body language and places a secure hand on her arm. I'm here, I'm here, his touch appears to convey. It's astounding how such a simple effect can have such a profound impact on her. Now her heart is rising out of her body, taking to the skies and soaring far and wide. She loves him so much it feels like she'll burst from her skin. She feels it in every fiber of her body, every nerve that's tuned to just the feeling of him, him, him.

But they have a job to do, and they can't stay like that forever, so Ontari breaks the kiss a bit hesitantly. Finnick seems just as reluctant. His hand lingers on her arm, palm warm from the heat of the day's sun.

"It's a good thing we got those rolls from Three, huh?" he questions quietly, gaze flickering to the remaining bread still clenched in her other hand. "They certainly gave us more than enough. Twenty-four rolls? You should make sure you eat so you'll have energy for tonight."

It takes all of Ontari's training to keep her eyebrows from furrowing in confusion at Finnick's strange words. There's some sort of significance behind it. For the past two days, they've received the same gift: twenty-four bread rolls from District Three. It does seem a bit strange. Why no salmon from Four? No herbal medicine for their cuts from Seven? No strips of fabric to bind their wounds from her own district?

Three. Three. Three. How many days has it been since the Bloodbath? Three. What time does the lightning strike the tree, when Beetee's — and perhaps Cassian's — plan begins? Midnight. Something must happen between eleven o'clock and then for District Thirteen to make their grand entrance. So what is the tree for, then? Just a distraction, or are they actually going to do something with it?

As a signal that she understands his message, Ontari nods and takes a bite of another roll. Even though his words had been code, Finnick is right. She will need her energy to carry her through this battle and to wherever life brings her next.

Finnick's eyes drift to the ever-darkening sky, which is now fading into a threatening black. "It's nearly nine o'clock. We should get going soon. Katniss, darling, what do you think?"

"What?" Katniss asks, a flash of irritation crossing her face at being called darling.

"Nine o'clock. Is it a good time to leave?"

Her stormy eyes move to the lightning tree and then roam all the way back to where they are on the beach, grouped together near the tree line. "Yes. It should take us at least half an hour to get there, and then we need time to set up."

"Then we leave now." Beetee pushes his glasses higher up on the bridge of his nose. "Right now."

Ontari shoves the rest of her food in her mouth and packs her few belongings. Her sword stays in her hand. Her other knives and remaining throwing stars remain sheathed in her belt, hidden for now. Finnick hides a leaf bowl of oysters in the bushes. They don't have the time to worry about extra weight; anything unnecessary must stay behind.

She finds herself more breathless than usual as they trek through the sweltering jungle, stomach aching from eating so much at once. Hopefully the oysters and bread will begin to digest soon. If not, Finnick's advice may backfire and she may end up even slower on her feet than usual.

When they finally reach the tree, Beetee and Cassian get to work. Beetee asks Finnick for his assistance as well while the rest of them stand watch. Ontari continuously shifts her attention from the jungle to the three men at work. Finnick wraps one end of the wire around a small branch and lays it on the ground. Then, they get to work with covering the lightning tree's thick trunk. It looks almost like a game of catch. Beetee, Cassian, and Finnick stand in a perfectly-formed triangle and toss the spool of wire around and around until Beetee decides it's enough.

Ontari's ears pick up the sound of the wave in the tenth sector. She turns toward the beach even though she can't see it, listening to the sound of the water crashing against the shore as loud as a thunderclap. The noise brings her back to when she had fallen off of the Cornucopia. For a moment, she imagines she's on the beach when the wave hits, allowing the force of the water to pummel her body and carry her far, far away from this arena. But she knows it's just wishful thinking. In actuality, the water would just circle her back around the Cornucopia, dragging her and holding her close to the Capitol like she's been ever since her name was pulled out of a glass bowl seven years ago.

As the jungle quiets again, Beetee turns to their alliance and begins giving instructions. "Girls, I want you three to bring the rest of this coil to the water, unraveling the wire through the jungle as you go. Throw it deep into the ocean, okay? Make sure it sinks. Then run like hell."

Ontari doesn't like the idea of being separated from Cassian, but she knows that this is when every step matters. She and Johanna need to get rid of Katniss' tracker as well as their own. By then, the cameras should go dark. Or maybe they already are.

"I want to go with them as a guard," Peeta says immediately, seemingly less than willing to let Katniss out of his sight.

"You're too slow," Beetee tells him. "Besides, I'll need you on this end. Katniss and Ontari will guard." Upon seeing Peeta's frown, he adds, "There's no time to debate this. I'm sorry. If the girls are to get out of there alive, they need to move now."

Ontari turns to her brother, finding security in his steady yet saddened gaze. "Don't die on me, Cass, or I'll kick your ass."

He rolls his eyes. "Same to you, Tari."

"—just drop the coil and come straight back up," Katniss says in reassurance to Peeta.

"Not into the lightning zone," Beetee reminds her. "Head for the tree in the one-to-two o'clock sector. If you find you're running out of time, move over one more. Don't even think about going back on the beach, though, until I can assess the damage."

Ontari turns to Finnick next. All they do is exchange a simple nod before Katniss turns around and asks, "You ready?"

"Why not?" Johanna replies with a shrug, letting annoyance plague her features so it looks like she's unhappy about teaming up with Katniss. "I'll unwind, you and Ontari will guard. We can trade off later."

Johana makes fairly quick work of unwinding the coil. She struggles a bit going down the slope, every boulder or divot in the soil slowing them down. Ontari's watchful gaze scans in front of them while Katniss watches the rear. The slice in her leg from that morning makes her wince as she runs. About halfway to the beach, clicking begins to rise from the next section of the arena. The bugs. It's already eleven o'clock.

"Better hurry," the District Seven girl says through a pant.  "I want to put a lot of distance between me and that water before the lightning hits. Just in case Volts miscalculated something."

"I'll take the coil for a little while," Katniss offers.

"Here." Johanna passes her the coil. Both of their hands are still on it when a snapping sound comes from behind, causing all three of their heads to turn toward the higher sections of ground that they've already covered. The end of the coil slides down the top of the incline and hits the dirt at Ontari's feet.

It takes a moment for this to register. They stare at it in dumbfounded silence before it sinks in that they've been followed, that someone is behind them and will be upon them at any moment.

Johanna's eyes flash to Ontari for a millisecond. Then she rips the metal cylinder of wire from Katniss' hands and smashes it into the side of the girl's head, causing her to immediately crumple to the ground. Johanna is on top of her in the next instant. She sits on Katniss' chest, pinning her limbs down. It doesn't even look like the girl has the strength or mindset to fight back.

"Ontari!" Johanna hisses.

Ontari slips a small knife from her belt and bends down, noticing Katniss' confused and alarmed gaze watching her helplessly. The older woman doesn't wince as she slices a deep gash down the girl's forearm. Katniss gives a strangled-sounding groan as she digs her fingers into the wound and produces the tiny blinking tracker the size of a lima bean. Blood gushes from the cut, blending into the dirt. Ontari swipes her hands through it, smearing the red liquid over Katniss' face and neck as she writhes weakly in Johanna's grip.

She doesn't feel sorry. Not when this will save her life. If Katniss hates them for thinking of this as a betrayal, then so be it.

"Stay down!" Johanna whispers sharply to the delirious and half-conscious teenager. Then she climbs off of her and leads Ontari to the left, away from the Careers on their tail and into the one o'clock section. They run for a few minutes before she turns around and nods to the tracker still clenched in Ontari's bloody hand. "Give that to me. I'll take it to the other side of the jungle along with ours. You should check if Beetee needs help."

Ontari nods as Johanna presents her arm. She cringes when Ontari slices another deep gash into her skin, producing the tracker. Now comes the worst part.

Noticing her grimace, Johanna asks, "Want me to do it?"

Ontari shakes her head and holds her right arm out. Knife in her left one, her line is more jagged than it would have been if she'd used her dominant hand. She grits her teeth to keep herself from gasping in pain as she digs her fingers into the wound and pries the circular chip out. Shoulders heaving in time with her breathless pants, she gives all three to Johanna.

"See you later." Johanna doesn't look back before she begins sprinting in their clockwise direction. Ontari wants to watch her go, but she doesn't have time.

Her breathing is labored as she runs back toward the lightning tree, the gash in her arm and cut in her calf aching with every pound of her feet against the soil. She feels sweat beginning to coat her neck at the effort it takes not to cry out.

Her eyes scan the surrounding area for any sign of Brutus or Enobaria, but she doesn't see any other people around, nor does she sense their presence. Another cannon thunders through the arena as if it had read her mind. Johanna. Had it been hers, or Chaff's, or maybe even Cassian's?

She shakes her head. She can't go back and check up on Johanna. The woman can handle herself. Her job is making sure Beetee is alright, and she can't get wrapped up in this seemingly impossible hunt.

Ontari's eyes dart around the trees in search of any possible threats, and, for a moment, it's like she's back in her first games. She's by herself with nobody to guard her back— the first time this has happened in this Quarter Quell.

Ontari catches sight of Enobaria's signature high ponytail near the lightning tree and ducks behind a trunk, tilting her head up to keep her breathing from being loud enough to hear. She waits a moment before peering around her hiding place.

Confusion and panic simultaneously sucker-punch her in the gut. Beetee is lying motionless on his back near the base of the tree, way too close for comfort. She thinks he's dead for a moment until his fingers twitch. Katniss is rocking back and forth on her heels beside him. She must think she's hidden behind the nearby brush, but Ontari has the perfect vantage point of her. The girl is crouched, arms wrapped around her knees and blood still gushing from the wound Ontari had inflicted on her. But that isn't what causes the brunt of her alarm.

Enobaria isn't alone, though the distinctly male frame beside her isn't Brutus'. It's Finnick's. And they don't even seem like they're trying to kill each other. Ontari blinks hard, wondering if she's lost enough blood to warrant hallucinations, but no. She'd recognize that blond head of hair anywhere.

The clicking of insects stops. Shit. Shit. Beetee is down, Cassian and Peeta are absolutely nowhere to be seen, and the coil isn't even in the water.

Ontari tightens her grip on her sword and starts to emerge from her hiding spot, but a pair of secure arms wrap around her before she can attack Enobaria. A hand slaps over her mouth to muffle her sound of panic. Ontari's mind whirls into attack mode, rearing her foot back to kick the person in the shin, but they dodge it with ease as if they'd been anticipating the move. Her arm swings up to stab the person in the eye. A strong grip clenches onto her wrist, both of their arms shaking as they strain to gain the advantage. The person's iron grasp tightens and causes her to drop the sword.

Black spots dance in her vision as the person pushes her wounded arm into her chest, causing surges of pain so powerful that her knees buckle and she's rendered immobile as tears fill her eyes. Her brain can't wrap around anything except the excruciating sting of her self-inflicted injury.

Then her gaze snaps down as she feels a drop of blood splatter onto her arm that isn't her own or Chaff's. The person has a gash nearly identical to hers that slices through the flesh of their forearm in an ugly line.

"Stand down," the voice of her brother whispers in her ear.

Ontari struggles to comprehend this turn of events through the fog in her brain. She would normally never hurt Cassian, but he had technically grabbed her first without warning. It's this thought that has her tilting her head down. Before Cassian can react, she swings it back so quickly she gets whiplash, cracking her skull into his nose and causing him to release her as his hands come up to stop the blood spurting from his face.

The older Nightfall sibling stumbles forward, black overpowering her vision for a few precious seconds as the pressure lifts off of her wound. She gasps involuntarily, causing Finnick and Enobaria's gazes to snap to her.

"What," she grumbles, voice tinged with rage and confusion as she regains her balance, "the hell?"

They don't get a chance to answer because Katniss emerges from her hiding spot. She stands with an arrow aimed at Enobaria's head, mouth twisted into a murderous scowl and eyes narrowed to slits.

Finnick raises his hands in surrender even though the arrow isn't pointed toward him. "Katniss, remember who the real enemy is."

These words seem to register in Katniss' brain just as thunder rumbles above. Ontari looks up to see storm clouds gathering above them, swirling into a threatening mass of gray.

She whirls toward Cassian, whose hands are cupping his bleeding nose. "Where the hell is Peeta?"

"He's with—"

He's cut off by the sound of Finnick's cry of dismay. "Katniss, get away from the tree!"

Ontari snaps her attention back to the Girl on Fire. She'd twisted the end of the wire around an arrow and notched it into her bow, slowly pulling back the drawstring as she turns the point of it toward the sky.

Her heart spasms in her chest. "Katniss!"

Finnick curses and takes a step back as the thunder grows louder. Enobaria outright runs away, and Ontari is too mesmerized by Katniss' actions to even kill her. She watches in stupefied awe as the lightning detonates with a deafening boom, charging the wire around the tree and the arrow just as she lets it fly. It strikes the force field around the arena.

Ontari barely has the chance to let out an impressed huff of air before the world lights on fire.

The blast of lightning is so powerful that it sends her soaring backward. For a moment she is weightless, limbs flailing in front of her as she flies, the blinding light searing into her retinas and making everything go absolutely white. Sparks singe her legs. It's like she's moving in slow motion, suspended in this moment of time, but then she smacks into a tree trunk and pure agony races across her back as she drops to the ground like a rag doll. There's a supernova behind her eyelids when they close. But then she's fighting against the pain coursing through her chest, battling the urge to slip into the comfort of unconsciousness.

Her eyelids shake as she tries to open them. She can't see anything except flames and swirling colors from the brightness of the lightning. Her cheek is pressed against a spread of moss, and when she tries to push herself up, she gives a cry as a sharp slice of pain cuts through her ribs and her left forearm. They're probably broken.

Cassian. She has to find Cassian, has to know he's all right—

But when she fights the pain again and tries harder to pick herself up even a little bit, she loses this battle. Unconsciousness welcomes her into its embrace and the light show behind her eyelids goes dark.

A claw closes around her middle just as she passes out.

THE END.

EDIT 31 OCTOBER 2019: check out the prequel to this book, "embers!"

______

wow. it's hard to believe that it's really the end, considering i feel like i haven't even been writing this book for very long (in reality it's been over a year). i really hope you guys have enjoyed this book, and also this chapter in particular, because i had a lot of fun writing it.

i'm sure you're all wondering if i'll make a sequel for this book. the answer is: i'm not sure! thing are really hectic in my life right now and i'm not sure if i'll have the time to regularly update a sequel because of the other fanfictions i'm writing and choosing to focus more on (because they're already in existence, unlike the possible sequel for this). i'll keep you guys updated!

second: i purposely ended it like this so that, in the event that i do not make the sequel, you can decide what happened to ontari and cassian. was the claw she felt from district thirteen or the capitol? also, due to the fact that she is in a lot of pain from her broken ribs and arm, she wouldn't have woken up in the hovercraft and instead slept the whole time. she wouldn't have woken up until she'd already arrived at her destination.

thank you all for reading, and please give me your feedback!

—kristyn