Ten years later, Finnick was still as edgy around danger as a newly-crowned victor, but he'd faced danger far more recently than the arena, even before he found himself here. He'd learned that the sharks of the Capitol could kill just as surely as those of the sea or the arena, and those had been the ones that had attacked him, over and over again. Far from the Capitol, though, this place had kept those nerves sharpened, keen against the moment when things would change, if and when it came.

"Not sure," he told Peeta. "They've done things like that before. Gifts from home and hallucinations and other tricks." He shot a sidelong glance at the other victor. "A lot of the same tricks the Gamemakers use, just less immediately deadly."

And, therefore, it was harder to understand, to see their strategy.

"You don't smell it at all? You smell anything strange?"