A/N: Thank you to everyone who added me to various favorites and alert lists, and especially big thank yous to Zunzun14, PandaHeroIzy, purplerainrose, and Laurafxox, who in addition to reviewing added me to her community. I'll try to post a new chapter every week from now on. In this chapter you will begin to see more characters from the book, so I hope you enjoy it. And of course, feel free to drop me a line (e.g., review) if you have any questions, comments, or constructive criticisms.


The next morning, Lief takes forever to get ready. He sleeps in, then spends half an hour poking at a bowl of oatmeal before pushing away from the table and declaring that he's not hungry. Ordinarily, I'd be really pissed at him, but I had an unusually good sleep last night. Valentine's ghost had the sense to stay out of my dreams, and consequently, I'm in a pretty good mood.

But when we finally get to the elevator and Lief presses four extra buttons in addition to the one for gym, I start to get annoyed. "Okay, what is wrong with you?"

"I'm nervous," he says. But he won't look me in the eye, and I'm certain that he's lying.

"Does this have to do with District Two again?" I demand as the elevator rockets up to the eleventh floor and opens onto empty rooms. "Because if it does, you really need to tell me about it now."

"It doesn't have to do with District Two so much," he says. "It's just that, uh, you might, um, see somebody you think you recognize down there."

"For heaven's sake, Lief, this is a different country!" I snap. "How the hell would I be able to recognize anybody from here?"

I think he's about to answer when the doors open onto the first floor and the tributes from District One climb in. I've gotten right into Lief's face in an attempt to force him to answer my question, and as a result, it looks like I'm about to make out with him.

"Oops," giggles the girl from District One. "Are we interrupting something?"

"No," I say, stepping back and discreetly taking a deep breath to regain my composure. "Just a disagreement."

"I'm trying to take care of you," Lief says angrily.

"Oh, and we all know how good you are at taking care of people," I fire back. It's an awfully cheap shot, considering that it's not Lief's fault that Valentine was stronger than him, but he's pushed me to the limit. "I don't need you or anyone else looking out for me."

The last part is a show for the District One tributes, who are studying us with interest. Lief and I are going into this as a team, but I can't let the others know it. We have to remain separate in everyone's eyes, and when I chance a look into his face, I can tell that he understands. I'm sorry, I mouth, and he nods.

I'm sorry, too.

We aren't quite the last ones down to the gym; District Twelve is even later, and the head trainer has already started her speech by the time they emerge from the elevators. During her spiel, I let my mind wander onto how I got from my home in the north to Panem and the Hunger Games.

Abbess had a vision about Panem, a few days after Valentine's death. She saw Panem falling to a girl on fire, a girl who would be competing in the Seventy-Fourth Hunger Games, and a new age of prosperity and peace dawning for the northerners.

But - and there's always a 'but' with Abbess and her visions - now that she knew about it, that future was unstable. She concluded that, to control it, someone needed to enter the Games to make sure everything proceeded as planned. This was a gift. We couldn't allow it to go to waste. I'd already done some minor infiltration into Panem, so I was an ideal choice. And everyone was sick of me moping around, sleepless eyes and scars, a living reminder of a person everyone would rather forget.

Then Abbess decided that I was too unstable to send in alone.

That's how Lief got pulled into it with me. They gave him a choice, but when the choice was either going with me or being left alone up there, he chose the former. I think it's mostly because he's a pariah back home; his failure to kill Valentine pretty much turned everyone against him. They feel sorry for me. Not for him.

I was happy that I wouldn't be alone, but it's not until now that it hits me that I'm going to have to bring four people out. Katniss Everdeen and Peeta Mellark. Somehow I must figure out a way for Lief and I to win and yet keep both tributes from District Twelve alive. If they die, then the course of events will be altered and Panem may never rebel - a catastrophe for my people. Four victors. Can it be done?

If it can, I'll do it. There's a way, but I have to make sure no one kills us first.

My eyes wander over the other tributes. My competition. As I'm scrutinizing Clove, the girl from District Two, Lief elbows me.

"What?"

"They have a climbing wall," he says, pointing. I look in the direction he's indicated and see a rock wall. A placard next to it explains that it can be adjusted for difficulty, although all tributes must begin on a 5.5 to get the trainer's approval to move on to harder walls. I grin. I can't wait to try it out.

"You may spend time at the individual stations at your own discretion," the head trainer says, "but you and your district partner will be paired with another district for the group sessions. The district pairings will remain the same for all the training days. The list will be posted shortly. Now you may go and begin your training. The lunch break will be in four hours. Go."

"Should we split up?" Lief asks me.

"Why not? We're not trying to present the couple image, so there wouldn't be a point," I say. "You go for the fire-starting station, I'll take edible plants."

I'm being charitable giving him fire-starting. Fire comes naturally to people like us. I hope at least a few of the Gamemakers are watching him; he's sure to be successful, and maybe they'll look at him with a little more favor then they give to the average non-Career tribute.

"All right, but before I do that I'll check the listing to see when we're scheduled for the group stations and who we're paired up with," Lief says.

"Sure, thanks. See you. Good luck." We separate; I head to the edible plants station and begin studying. After about an hour, Katniss Everdeen and Peeta Mellark come over. Katniss answers a question that I miss about a plant we don't have in the north, and she shoots a triumphant, almost superior look at me. I ignore her. My rule for plants is that if you don't recognize it, don't eat it, and there are plenty of these plants I can identify by sight. I studied these thoroughly before coming here.

After edible plants, I move on to spear-throwing. It's not hard, but I really have to check my strength to prevent the spear from going straight through the target dummies and into the far wall. Shape-changers are stronger than the average person - we have to be, in order for our bodies to handle the transition. I see the Gamemakers nodding after I make a particularly good throw, and I grin.

A commotion on the other side of the gym draws my attention. It's at the staff station. Someone has been knocked out. Whoever it is has sandy brown hair and is sprawled out flat on their back. Don't be Lief. Please don't be Lief

It's Lief.

I shove through the crowd of laughing tributes - even the pathetic ones are happy to see that someone's doing worse than they are - and kneel down at his side. "Lief. Dammit. Get up."

His eyelids flicker. There's already a lump on the side of his head, and he brings a hand up to touch it. "Huh?"

"Get up," I repeat. I glance over and see that the District One tributes have stopped swinging axes and are laughing at him. "District One is looking at you like you're road kill. Get up, go do something you're good at, and, I don't know, be less of a fail!"

He sits up. "I'm not a fail."

"Yeah? Well right now, you look like one," I say. I need to be harsh with him, maybe a little harsher than I ordinarily would be, to cancel out the fact that I left my station to help him. "Come on, Lief. Go be impressive."

He rolls his eyes. "You're the impressive one. You always have been. Do you know what time it is?"

I tell him, and he swears. "We have to be at the climbing station now. With District Two."

"Ah," I say. Climbing, there's something I'm naturally good at. Time to show off for everyone. "Well, then, let's go."

I grab Lief's hand and drag him to his feet before setting off for the climbing station.

"Spirit, wait!" Lief yelps, but he's sidetracked when he trips over his own discarded staff, and I proceed apace to the climbing station. The girl from District Two is already hooked into the wall and making her slow and unsteady way up, so I get in line behind the boy from District Two.

Cato, that's his name. In Abbess's vision, he makes it all the way to the final battle only to be eaten alive by the pack of muttation tributes the Gamemakers set loose. Good thing, too, because it mean that I probably won't have to kill him. He's huge, probably six foot four, and practically made of muscle, and while I might be able to beat him in a fight, I wouldn't rate my chances.

Pounding feet herald Lief's arrival, and he skids to a stop beside me just as Cato turns around.

Blond hair, gray eyes, strong features. I know that face about as well as I know my own - I see it almost every night in my nightmares. Suddenly I'm certain that I'm looking straight into the eyes of the ghost who haunts my dreams. He's alive. He's come back for me.

"Valentine," I whisper.

Cato - Valentine! - raises his eyebrows. "Who?"

Lief, probably feeling like he has to cover up my Freudian slip, chooses this moment to step forward and loudly introduce himself. "I'm Lief. District Seven."

"Cato. District Two," says the ghost. He looks at me. "And you are?"

When I don't answer, Lief elbows me. Say something, dammit.

"Spirit. Also District Seven," I manage, aiming my gaze at the ground between my feet. Even though I can't see him, I know Cato's eyes are on me, and I feel a blush rising over my cheekbones. A thousand thoughts are running through my head.

I killed you.

You shouldn't be here.

Why won't you ever die?

And by far the worst - I missed you.

"So," Cato says. "Who's Valentine?"

"Nobody." It feels particularly treasonous to deny that Valentine ever existed when his doppelganger is standing right in front of me.

"It's an inside joke," Lief explains. "District Seven thing. So, anyway, how's it going?"

I stomp on Lief's foot. You're being an idiot!

You're frantically trying to figure out how Valentine managed to come back from the dead, Lief snaps. And I'm the idiot?

I ignore him and decide just to shut up. Cato crosses his arms, showing off some impressive muscles. "District Seven," he says. "Saw you in the chariot rides. You were the best thing there."

I'm sticking to my resolution not to say anything until Lief elbows me again, this time stomping on my foot for good measure. He's complimenting you. Say something!

Me? I say stupidly.

He's saying that somebody looked hot during the chariot rides, Lief says, sounding really ticked off at this point. And it sure wasn't me, so say thank you. Come on. We need to be on good terms with this guy!

"Thanks," I manage to force out. "It's actually a minor miracle, considering that I was this close to being a tree."

"I don't think trees would suit you very well," Cato comments. "Was that you who got knocked out a couple minutes ago?"

"No," I say, a bit scornfully. I point at Lief. "That was him."

"The trainer tripped me!" he protests. Cato laughs.

"They're going to do a lot worse in the arena, District Seven," he says to Lief.

A shriek cuts the air as the girl from District Two plummets off the wall. The rope jerks her to a stop about halfway down, and she hangs there, squealing like a pig.

"That's Clove," Cato says. "She's from my district."

"She's an awful climber," I say.

"What would you know about it?" Cato snaps. Oops. I woke up the "district pride" bear.

"We climb a lot in District Seven," I explain. "Trees, you know, and if you're going to chop off a branch, you sure can't do it from ground level. So I would know something about it."

I've managed to bring things back down a bit, but Cato is still on the defensive. "If you're so good at climbing, how about you go next?"

"Ooh, them's fighting words," Lief mumbles.

Challenge accepted. "Fine," I say. I wait for the trainer to untie Clove, then go into battle.

"I can tie myself in," I tell the trainer, and proceed to hook myself in with a double fisherman, plus a safety. I'm not going to fall, but I want to show the Gamemakers that I'm the kind of girl who always has a backup plan. Then, to the tune of several dropped jaws, I clamber up the 5.5 in thirty-eight seconds; a personal best, and enough to get all the of the Gamemakers looking in my direction.

Then I climb back down rather than letting the trainer lower me. I can't help showing off a little.

"Can I go again?" I ask the trainer.

The trainer is still staring at me. "Have you had practice at climbing? Where did you get it?"

"District Seven," Cato, Lief, and I say at the same time. I turn around and glare at them. Lief becomes absorbed in the ceiling. "So, yeah, I've had some practice."

"What would you like to climb next?"

I smirk. "Challenge me."

When I tackle the overhang wall he sets, I draw quite a crowd of tributes and trainers. Even the Gamemakers have come down to the lowest row of the bleachers to watch me. And when I hook my hands over the top of the wall, some of them actually clap.

Lief is grinning like a fool. Since he's privy to what everyone around him is thinking, he can tell that I've made a huge impression. The girl from District Two is staring at me like I'm from another world. Cato looks me up and down, arms still crossed, his face expressionless. Then he nods, once. "Not bad, District Seven."

After the climbing lesson, we all break for lunch. The Career tributes - Cato included - form a rowdy group at one table, while everyone else separates out into little groups or sits alone. Lief and I sit together. We decide that it's okay for today. A lot of tributes are nervous to be alone.

"He likes you," Lief says almost as soon as we sit down. "Cato, I mean."

"What do you mean, he likes me?" I say, dreading his answer. He can't mean what I think he means. He just can't.

"He likes you," Lief repeats. "It's pretty self-explanatory."

He likes you.

No. I'm done! I've already been through this once with Valentine - I'm not doing it again, this time against the backdrop of the Hunger Games. I won't talk to Cato. I won't even look at him. I won't start caring about someone who has to die.

Lief, damn him, is thrilled. "This is great. Do you realize what this means? He likes you. That means he'll want you in the Career pack. This is our way in!"

"And then what?" I'm too bone-weary to even snap at him properly.

"Then we win," Lief says, as though explaining something very simple to a small child. "When us and District Twelve are the last ones left, we use the strategy and get the hell out of the arena with them. Mission accomplished."

"Forgetting, of course, that we have to kill twenty people to achieve the goal of being the last four left," I point out.

"We won't have to kill all twenty on our own," Lief says. "Your friend from District Two will probably take care of a lot of it before we get rid of him. And anyway, you've been killing people since you were thirteen. Why is this such a big deal?"

There are so many things wrong with that statement that I can't decide which one to get mad about first. What I end up saying - after I decide that I can just be angry about the whole thing - is, "This is different."

"Why? Because it's Valentine?"

Yes.

"No, because Cato isn't our enemy!"

"Everybody between us and completing our mission is our enemy. Everyone who poses a threat to us or District Twelve," Lief says coldly. "And Spirit, you actually made my point there. It's not Valentine. It's Cato. They might look the same, but they aren't the same person."

"He could be a mutant -" I'm grasping at straws. I know it and so does Lief.

"There are no shape-changers in this country," Lief says patiently. "Remember, it was the radiation from the bombs that tripped the mutation. You know that."

"So what do you want me to do?" I challenge. "Manipulate him, use him until we hit final five and then kill him?"

Lief studies me. "What's his name again?"

You're kidding me. "Cato."

"What happens to Cato in the vision?" Lief asks.

"He survives until the last fight," I say. "Him and Peeta and Katniss are the final three. Then the Capitol sets these muttations on them and they eat Cato alive."

"So he dies anyway," Lief rationalizes. "The muttations kill him. You won't have to. And you don't even have to talk to Valentine - er, Cato. All you have to do is be your regular incredible self and he'll be hooked."

"I'm not a drug, Lief," I say tartly.

He rolls his eyes, then looks at me expectantly. "So. Will you do it?"

What answer can I give? "Yes," I say. "But I hate it and I hate that you're making me do it. I just want you to know that."

"Point taken," Lief says. We eat in silence for a bit, Lief quietly devouring his bowl of stew while I shred a roll, pretending that it's his face. Then Lief says, "I'm sorry."

"Sorry about what?"

"For what happened with Valentine."

"That wasn't your fault," I say blankly. "It had to happen. He had to die."

"But you didn't have to kill him," Lief says. "That was supposed to be me. Not you. I shouldn't have made you go through it. I know it messes with you."

"You didn't make me do anything," I say finally. "It was my choice. Him or you."

"And you picked me?" Lief shakes his head. "You loved him and you don't like me. Why would you do something like that?"

I loved Valentine. That's not a lie. But in the end, I couldn't reconcile what he'd done to us with the person I thought I knew. I don't explain that. I just say, "You're more useful to me alive than dead."

He laughs. "Don't go falling in love again," he tells me. "I don't think Panem is ready for it. Or anywhere in the world, for that matter."

"So tell me, darling, do you wish we'd fall in love?" I sing softly.

"Yeah, all the time," Lief says, and then we both laugh like lunatics. All the other tributes stare at us, and even the Careers stop what they're doing to look.