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A pair of siblings had never been reaped in the same year for as long as the Games had been played. The closest anyone had ever come was Dale and Warren Burgess’ back to back victories. Their family had a reputation for seeing more than their fair share of arenas, ever since Patton had become a victor more than a century ago. It was commonly agreed upon, by people in the Capital who cared to discuss such things, that the Burgess brothers were the ultimate culmination of the family’s disproportionate relationship with the Games, as neither of them seemed likely to ever wed or have children of their own. Those who knew the family lineage a bit better, however, tended to have a slightly different view. A decade after Warren’s win, many of them looked at Kendra and Seth with pity in their eyes as they filed into their places for the Reaping. To them, it seemed less a question of if one of the Sorensons would be reaped, and more a question of which of them it would be and how long fate could postpone it.
x.
When Kendra heard her own name called out as tribute, she reeled back as though she’d been physically smacked across the face.
She looked up at the stage. Warren had taken a step forward, and almost looked as if he were going to walk straight off the front of the stage and through the crowd to her. Vanessa placed a hand on his shoulder, firmly holding him back. She locked eyes with Kendra and beckoned her forward.
Kendra was barely aware that she was crying until Vanessa met her at the bottom of the stairs and hastily brushed the tears from her cheeks. Warren wrapped her in a tight hug as soon as she stepped onto the stage proper.
He wasn't crying, but looked like he was about to start.
x.
When she heard Seth's name called out three minutes later, her chest tightened and her lungs burned as though all of her oxygen had been sucked away. The whole world seemed to have lurched sideways. She watched the color drain out of Seth’s face and willed herself not to be sick. She couldn’t bring herself to look at Warren.
x.
A pair of siblings had never been reaped in the same year for as long as the Games had been played. When word got around that they were the youngest generation of the Burgess tree, everyone nodded and muttered that it should have been expected. It had only been a matter of time, they told each other wisely.
The Sorenson Siblings was the phrase on the lips of everyone in the Capitol by the time Warren and Vanessa ushered them onto the train, faces grim.
x.
“Neither of you have as much combat training as any of us would like,” Vanessa told Kendra matter-of-factly, “but Seth’s not bad with a sword, and your gift with the fairies might be enough to pull you through this. It’s hard to say how many fairies will be in the arena, though. Sometimes there aren’t any.”
Kendra knew this wasn’t really up to the Gamemakers – even they couldn’t do much to control fairies – but her stomach clenched at the thought that her one skill might turn out to be useless.
x.
“Well, at least my powers are guaranteed to be worth something,” Seth said, almost cheerfully, “so we won’t be completely helpless. I mean, it’s not like they can take all the shadows out of the arena.”
“Don’t give them any ideas,” Warren muttered, eyeing a security camera as though the Sphinx were personally listening in on their conversation.
x.
“Do you feel as sick about this as I do?” Kendra asked as the elevator whisked them down for their first day in the Training Center.
“What? Sick?” Seth said. “No way. I bet today’s gonna be really fun. Ten bucks says I can get a game of football going by noon. I’ll even let you captain one of the teams, but I got dibs on that Casey kid – looks like he’s got a great arm.”
Kendra smiled weakly.
x.
Seth smeared mud from the camouflage station across Kendra’s forehead.
“F inger-painting !” he exclaimed. “This is way better than football.”
“Would you at least pretend to take this seriously,” she shot back testily.
“Fine then. It’s survival skills . Why do you insist on sucking all the fun out of everything?”
x.
The programming was occasionally peppered with footage of Kendra and Seth from over the years; splashing around with each other in their grandparents’ pool, playing checkers with Tanu on Warren’s front porch, crudely carving a dozen pumpkins with Dale for Midsummer’s Eve.
Kendra had only been five years old when Warren won his games and their home was flooded with cameras. She and Seth had been too young to be worth interviewing then, and Kendra had always assumed that they’d been largely ignored by the camera crews that had blown in and out during each year’s Games ever since.
Apparently, she’d been very wrong about that.
She caught Warren smiling to himself a few times when footage of their younger selves popped up on the screen. When she asked him about it, he broke into a full grin.
“They’re making everyone feel like they’ve watched the two of you grow up for years,” he said. “Every sponsor in the Capital’s on your side thanks to this. Everyone wants the two of you to win.”
x.
A pair of siblings had never been reaped in the same year for as long as the Games had been played. They were an anomaly, to be sure, but their unusual relationship wasn’t enough for rules to be broken. Still, someone understood that Kendra would flounder on camera as much as Seth would shine, and someone wanted them to look good. The regulations were bent just enough to allow The Sorenson Siblings to do a joint interview.
x.
Kendra had watched some of the tapes of Warren and Dale’s years as tributes, so she expected there to be plenty of interview questions probing into the bizarre luck of their family tree. What she hadn’t expected was the intense focus on the shared tragedy of The Sorenson Siblings . She knew Seth had a dozen quips ready to loose at any question about their family history of victors, but even he was brought to a halt by the mention of their parents.
What would they do if both Kendra and Seth lost?
Kendra had been doing her level best to avoid thinking about that question.
After a moment’s pause, Seth set his jaw and stated plainly, “We’re not just Sorensons, we’re Burgesses. And Burgesses don’t lose.”
x.
Everything about it made her feel powerless and angry. Above all else, the knowledge that there might be nothing she could do to protect Seth gnawed at her until she was all worn-through skin and brittle bones.
x.
“You only want him because you think he’s cute,” Seth said when Kendra listed Gavin as a possible ally. They both knew that no one considered the shy, slim, and stuttering boy to be real competition.
“I think he volunteered for a reason,” she said, aiming for nonchalance even as she felt her cheeks burn at the accusation. “He wouldn’t do that if he didn’t think he could win. There has to be something about him that no one knows.”
“I know what it is,” he huffed back. “He’s got a death wish.”
x.
Seth let out a low, impressed whistle when Gavin’s training score was announced.
“A twelve?” Warren exclaimed, incredulously. “Is that even possible? Do they even give out twelves?”
“Apparently, they do,” Vanessa said. She looked equally shocked.
Seth turned to Kendra and said, “Let’s hope he likes you back.”
x.
Kendra couldn’t figure out if it was bad luck that their bloodline held so many tributes, or good luck that it held so many victors. Bad luck that they were reaped together, or good luck that they would each have at least one trustworthy ally in the arena.
“You’ll drive yourself mad trying to figure that out,” Vanessa told her. “And in my experience, luck doesn’t have much to do with survival.”
x.
Their good luck held. They got their hands on decent weapons. The arena was rife with fairies willing to lend a hand to Kendra and dark creatures willing to strike a bargain with Seth.
x.
Their bad luck held. They weren’t the only tributes with magic resources.
There were only six tributes left when they found out about Navarog.
x.
It was down to just the three of them when Gavin finally cornered Kendra in a small canyon. There wasn’t enough room between the sheer rock walls for him to take his dragon form, but there also wasn’t anywhere for Kendra to run. He stood in front of her with his hands relaxed at his sides, unarmed. She aimed her loaded crossbow in the general direction of his heart, but her hands were shaking and they both knew a few arrows would barely slow him down. The early morning shadows stretched long all around them.
“I do like you, you know,” he said, almost nonchalantly. He took a small step closer to her. “I mean, more than I liked anyone else in this arena. I really don’t want to hurt you.”
Kendra could hear her heartbeat thundering in her ears as she stumbled back, tightening her grip on the crossbow. “That’s weird, because I really do want to shoot you.”
“And yet you haven’t fired yet.” He flashed a sharp smile at her and took another slow step forward.
“Why not? Too scared?” Another step.
“Waiting for your little brother to come and save you?” Another step.
He smirked. “That might be a long wait.”
“Not too long,” Seth said, materializing out of the shadows behind Gavin. In the seconds it took Gavin to turn back, Seth wrapped both of his hands around the hilt of his sword and swung with all his strength.
Kendra felt warm dragon blood splatter across her face and arms as Gavin’s body hit the ground with a sort of sickening squish. She doubled over, gagging hard. The crossbow slipped from her hands.
When she managed to choke down her revulsion, she looked up at Seth. His lips quirked into the smallest smile and he gestured vaguely to her blood-soaked face.
“You’ve got a little spot of something,” he said, “just there.”
The canon fired.
x.
A pair of victors had never been crowned in the same year for as long as the Games had been played. But then, the Gamemakers had never faced anything quite like the Sorensons.