It appears I slept after all though the dry taste in my mouth and the sharp pains as I raise my head from my arm make me wonder if it was worth it. The day continues in a similar manner, my head hazy from the interrupted sleep and I am ashamed to have to ask several of the trainers to repeat things when I find myself zoning out during their initial explanations.

The practice I did with the skirt cords last night shows when I return to the ropes station and successfully repeat all six knots, though the snare rig takes a few tries. The delighted trainer advises me as I construct a series of ropes that will catch and immobilize a person who triggers it, not only by the foot but also around the middle, potentially pinning their arms too. As I prepare to test it with a dummy I notice several people glancing my way and quickly unloop a critical knot before moving the dummy forwards. The foot loop catches and the dummy flies up in the air for a second before the whole contraption crashes apart. From the corner of my eye I see Stuvek looking confused while his little friends laugh. On the other side the three Career girls are also laughing, though Francis from Four looks suspicious. Beyond her Junis is also watching with a slight smile, and I guess my performance didn't fool her for a second.

I give the trainer a wry shrug and grimace and he winks as he starts pulling apart the mess, waving me off to another station in feigned disgust. Hopefully he will inform the watching Gamemakers that I deliberately fouled the trap in order to appear unskilled, which should actually gain me extra points for cunning.

Lunch is called before I decide where to go next and I eat alone again, letting my mind drift aimlessly to more advanced rope and pulley systems along the same principle as my earlier effort. I must actually doze off momentarily because Stuvek is suddenly sitting beside me, polishing off an apple.

"Oh, you're awake again," he says through a mouthful. "Don't worry, I don't think anyone else noticed."

I relax slightly when I see no-one is looking our way and that there are still tributes eating.

"So what happened before? With the ropes?" he clarifies when I stare at him.

"Oh," I reply, "I guess I got my knots mixed up. Didn't secure the longer loop properly."

"Right," he says with a brief smile. "Figures. Felton and Morris think you're hopeless now."

"Good," I tell him and he blinks then laughs.

"Of course. That makes sense. Well if you run out of ideas, you could always try the climbing wall. The mats are really soft so you won't hurt yourself when you fall."

"I'll keep that in mind," I tell him, and he gets the hint and rises from the seat.

"Stuvek," I call as he starts to leave.

"Yeah?"

"You should try the ropes trainer. He's pretty smart, for all that he couldn't teach me a simple snare trap."

He laughs and waves acknowledgement as he returns to the other boys, and I feel another pang of guilt as I watch them talking. Three young lives which will soon be over, possibly at my hands if I am to survive. But I can't afford to break down here where everyone will see so I bite my lip and clench my fists under the table, forcing my brain through complex algebraic formulae until Micah sends us back out to the gym.

-xXx-

By the end of the day I am completely exhausted, forcing down every bite of dinner in silence. Dido and Lucia have both joined us tonight and seem to be quite capable of holding the conversation up, with occasional interventions from Beetee. Lucia seems to be raving about the new ironing rod and how much time it saves designers when preparing outfits. Both she and Dido start suggesting modifications or other gadgets that would make their unbearably difficult lives easier and I see Stuvek rolling his eyes at the grandiose pronouncements of suffering and stifle a laugh.

Which only serves to remind me that this little kid who acts a bit like my brother Ezra will soon be dead for the entertainment of these 'terribly suffering' people and I feel a wave of anger swamp me. It is such an unusual emotion for me that I'm not sure how to deal with it, though luckily we reach the end of the meal before I say anything potentially insulting.

This time I remember to ask Beetee for a loan of his toolkit, and he doesn't even blink when I disappear into my room with it. After two lamps, the drinks machine and the electronic alarm clock have been separated out into their component pieces and reassembled I feel slightly better and decide to call it a night.

I sleep peacefully and thoroughly for the first time since stepping on the train, and rise early for the final day of training. To my delight, breakfast is already waiting and Beetee is alone at the table, sipping from a large mug of coffee.

"Ah, Wiress. Feeling better?" he asks as I join him, waving away the hovering Avox and serving myself a bowl of fruit and cream.

"Much," I reply, sliding the toolkit across the tablecloth. "Thanks for the loan. I needed that."

"No trouble," he says with a brief smile. "And I take it no Capitol technology was harmed in the process?"

"If only," I mutter into my juice, which earns me a genuine laugh.

"My brother was the same, always taking things apart when he was bored or frustrated," he says thoughtfully and a shadowed expression crosses his face for half a second. It's the first I've heard of him having a brother, and I open my mouth to ask about him when he cuts me off.

"So, last day of training. Have you decided what you will show the Gamemakers?"

"Probably a few variations on my rope trap from yesterday," I say and he chuckles again.

"Yes, Stuvek mentioned that after you left. A catastrophic failure apparently."

"It seems I accidentally undid a crucial knot. The boys from Eight and Nine think I'm hopeless."

"Terrible. Though I suppose the trainer knew what the problem was?"

"I believe so," I reply and he nods approvingly.

It's nice having someone who speaks my language and understands the meaning of my unspoken words. It's like this at home talking to Ezra and Balia. Especially my sister, who seems to intrinsically understand everyone regardless of how incoherent or confused they are.

We sit in silence for a while before he says, "You should probably use at least one weapon. In front of the Gamemakers. You don't have to do it well," he adds when I prepare to argue.

"It shows that you have the commitment to win, and since you want a middle-range score you will need to show them something."

I don't want to, but I know he is right. Maybe I can shoot a few arrows, or at worst try and stab one of the dummies with a spear. I decide to let it be as a tousle-haired Stuvek joins us at the table.

Carmenius appears as we are about to leave, and makes us wait for him to inhale his coffee before we head down in the lifts. As a result we are the last ones there and receive the icy looks of the Careers before breaking apart to the various stations.

I spend the morning double-checking every bit of knowledge on plants and insects, both edible and deadly, and am pleased to find I get nothing wrong. Before I know it lunch is called and the tributes from the early districts start preparing for their private sessions. I will be the sixth one called, following on from Stuvek. This will probably work to my advantage as he will serve as a buffer between me and the undoubtedly impressive Careers before us.

One by one the names are called, and the room quickly becomes less rowdy following the departure of One and Two. Stuvek looks shaky as he leaves and I suddenly am conscious of how little nerves are affecting me. I have a plan; I know exactly what I am going to do and how to do it. And it should be enough to see me well placed in the middle ranks.

When my name is called I rise without fear and ignore the snigger from Stuvek's friends as I re-enter the gymnasium. The Gamemakers are perched on their balcony, half watching me, half-watching the white-clad servers who seem to be passing out plates laden with steaming fish and vegetables.

"Ah, Miss Ling. You may begin." The man at the front eventually notices me and waves me forward. I force a smile before heading straight to the ropes station.

I had most of the morning to plot this out while sorting plants and insects, and quickly grab the necessary ropes, nets and a chair. The chin-up and climbing bars next to the wall-net provide the structure I need, and it takes me a little over ten minutes to loop together the series of ropes. Hurrying now, I grab several knives and lash them to a pair of spear shafts, which slide into their pre-made loops. Finally I am ready, and make a grand show of dragging over a pair of dummies so that every eye is focused on me by the time I am ready.

The first figure I shove forward across the trip-line is covered with a dropped net and met head-on by the swinging knife-lashed spear. It crumples to the floor and I drag it clear to the centre before removing the netting. Two of the knives are embedded in the rubbery shoulders while the third is buried in the throat.

Pushing it and my revulsion aside I line up the second dummy and place the rubber foot into the snare loop, mimicking a person walking. I jump clear as the rubber figure is flipped upside-down and the second loop drops to pinion the arms. Exactly as planned. Finally the second knife-studded shaft swings out to meet it, but the dangling figure rotates slightly and only one knife hits into the side of the shoulder muscle.

If this were a real person in the arena then they would be struggling and yelling by now. If it were one of the Careers they might even break free on their own if their allies didn't come to their aid. I can hear two of the Gamemakers murmuring as I stand there and I realise they are waiting for me to finish the job. Quickly I wrench one of the knives free from the ties to the used spear shaft and run back to the dangling figure, lining up a strike to its neck as it twists around to face me. And then I look into that generic rubber face only it's no longer androgynous plastic, but Stuvek, eyes wide in pain. The girl from Twelve, pleading and begging. Sparrow, Junis, Balia. I shake my head to get rid of the images, reminding myself that it is just plastic. Just a dummy. Not real.

Taking a deep breath I brace myself and draw back my arm, closing my eyes as I plunge the knife forward. I feel it skitter across the rubber surface and hear the clatter as it strikes the ground. When I open my eyes, the Gamemakers are still watching, though some are whispering to one another. I stare pleadingly at the purple-robed figure at the railing, knowing that I can't bring myself to pick up the knife and try again. Finally he sighs and flicks his fat fingers towards the door.

"Thank you Miss Ling. You may go."

I breathe a heavy sigh and make my escape through the far door, trying to control the shaking of my knees as I make the short walk to the elevator.

-xXx-

Carmenius pounces on me as soon as I exit the elevator.

"Where have you been? I suppose it doesn't matter if you did as badly as him."

"I-"

"Well?"

"Let her be Carmenius. Wiress, come, sit girl."

Dido is the last person I expect to come to my rescue, but she is definitely better company than our shallow, self-obsessed escort so I join her on the couch.

"Where is Stuvek?" I ask as I sit. I had sort of expected him to be here as he only finished a quarter of an hour before me.

Dido raises her pencilled eyebrows at the question and Carmenius gives a snort of disgust before answering.

"Out on the balcony with Beetee sobbing his pathetic head off."

The disdain in his voice as he speaks of my district partner who will almost certainly be dead in a matter of days makes me both sick and angry. I open my mouth to give him a piece of the thoughts that I have kept bundled up over the last few days, but Dido beats me to it.

"For pity's sake Carmenius, show some respect. The boy knows he will die and still has the courage to try. It is not his fault that he is poorly suited to the contest and he is but fourteen years old. When you were his age you cried about a lot less than your imminent death I expect. Be thankful you are a child of the Capitol and not of the Districts, and keep a civil tongue in your head when you speak in front of the tributes or I will see you permanently assigned to District Twelve."

I watch in amazement as the pompous Capitolian visibly deflates at every word. The threat of being demoted to a District where the children are actually starving and are even less prepared to fight for their lives alone seems to be enough to silence any retort.

"I…but…fine." He grits his teeth and forces the sneer away, speaking in a pleasant but false tone.

"How did your private session go Wiress?"

I'm tempted not to answer his insincere enquiry but Dido looks at me too, so I shrug and say, "Alright I guess."

"Do you think you managed higher than a four?"

The condescending note has returned already, though I guess that is hardly surprising.

"I hope so," I tell him, though to be honest my weakness at the end could have cost me badly. Still my display of snare traps should have been enough to get a decent score.

A soft clatter from the far wall marks Beetee's return from the balcony, and I can see Stuvek's tousled head staring out over the city.

"Wiress, you're back …oh. Is it two-thirty already?"

He glances at his watch in surprise, then seems to remember the rest of us.

"Oh, sorry. How did you go?"

"Alright I think," I repeat for his benefit.

"So everything went to plan?"

"Mostly," I tell him. "I mean the traps worked as planned. It was just-"

He nods his understanding and says, "Well you did your best. And I expect they were suitably impressed with your ingenuity to achieve the score you were aiming for."

"I guess we will see tonight," Dido says.

"Well, if you manage at least a six I might have an interested sponsor," Carmenius add smugly.

"Really?" I'm surprised, not only that someone is interested but that Carmenius actually bothered to do his job after all the commentary about how useless we were.

"Well they're not interested in the boy, but after watching her interview they thought you might be a good underdog to back." He gestures to Dido, who gives her usual bland shrug.

"I merely told Flickerman that you seemed intelligent and self-possessed. A good critical thinker under pressure. Some people are willing to back brains over brawn."

I'm touched that my seemingly uncaring stylist was willing to speak so publicly in my support.

"Dido, thanks. I-"

"I said nothing untrue. You, amongst all I have worked on have the greatest potential to succeed. I will provide what support I can in order to increase your chances."

Beetee nods graciously in her direction. "Sometimes all it takes is one person showing support to encourage others to do the same. So who is this potential sponsor you have found?"

"Yellan Garfunkel," Carmenius announces proudly.

Beetee frowns but Dido nods her recognition.

"The musician, yes. He would be a valuable contributor."

"Do you know him?" I ask, and receive another shrug.

"Know of him. He is an eccentric even by our standards. Fantastic composer, though not as popular with the younger crowd."

"He's not interested unless she shows above average potential. He said a score of six or more and he would be in touch."

"Well there's not much we can do until this evening then," says Beetee. "You have the afternoon to relax. My toolkit is on the counter if you wish to borrow it again."

It's a tempting offer, but as I look out the glass door I see the outlined figure on the balcony. I can't afford to worry about anyone but me if I am to survive these Games, but it just doesn't seem right to leave him on his own.