Disclaimer: The Hunger Games is not mine.

Note: A few announcements before the Games begin:

1. I'm only going to say it once: I'm sorry your tribute is probably going to die. Not necessarily in this chapter, but, eventually, there's a 95.8% chance that your tribute will end up dead, and I do want to offer a word of condolence. But I'm not going to repeatedly apologize for killing characters, so this one will have to stand for all: If and when your character dies, I apologize.

2. As of now, I'm planning to update the blog shortly after posting the chapter. If too many people complain about inadvertently running into spoilers, I may change that, but, for the moment, I'd like to keep the blog as up-to-date as possible. I've also added a map of the arena to the blog.

3. Lastly, there's a poll on my profile. As you may have guessed from the last chapter, I'm planning to feature the mentors occasionally throughout the Games, so the question this time is, "Which mentors would you like to see more of?" We got a bit of Mags last chapter, and another mentor gets a point of view at the end of this one, so who would you like to see in the future? (Of course, some of my decision will be based off of who would have a good reaction to whatever is happening in the Games at that point, and whose tributes are left, but I'd also like to know who you'd prefer to see.) Feel free to vote for as many as you like.

And now, without further ado, let the Ninth Annual Hunger Games begin!


Day One:
The Pieces are Moving


Alistern Elbridge
Bartender

He always pulled an all-nighter before the Games.

It was the best way to get information. Not that the mentors had any real idea of who this year's victor would be. But sometimes there were hints. Subtle comments. Or, more importantly, what they didn't say. The tributes they didn't talk about. Sometimes they were the ones to watch.

They had all left now. All gone to see their tributes off. Alistern watched with the rest of the Capitol as Cornelius' face filled the screen. He knew he would have to make his choice soon.

He always put off betting until the last minute. He wanted to be certain. And, the last two years, he had been right. He was on quite a streak. A streak he had no intention of breaking.

"And now," Cornelius announced. "The moment we've all been waiting for! Let's see the arena!"

The cameras switched to a view from one of the tributes' platforms, rising up, up, into the arena. Grass. A wide, grassy plain, with the tributes now standing, platforms all in a row. District One at the top of the screen. District Twelve at the bottom.

Not a circle. Not standing around anything.

Where was the Cornucopia?

As the clock began to count down from 60, the tributes looked around, wondering the same thing. In front of them in the distance were mountains. Directly behind them, water. A lake or an ocean, Alistern wasn't sure, but it seemed to stretch on for quite a ways. To the north and the south, the plains stretched on, but, as the cameras swept to the north, he thought he could see patches of ice.

But still no Cornucopia.

In answer, the voice of the Head Gamemaker, Helius Florum, explained, "This year, my dear tributes, the Cornucopia is on the other side of the mountains. Good luck, and may the odds be ever in your favor!"

On the other side of the mountains. Alistern quickly took in the tributes' reactions. Shock. Disappointment. Dismay. Some were eyeing the mountains, looking for the quickest way over. Others glanced around frantically, either trying to find their allies or looking for an escape route – or an easy target. The boy from Two was laughing. The girl from Ten was near tears.

Forty.

The pair from Eleven nodded at each other, sharing a silent message.

The girl from One tensed, ready to run towards the mountains.

Thirty.

The boy from Nine gritted his teach, his expression something between a scowl and a menacing grin. He'd chosen his first target.

The boy from Three nodded encouragingly at the girl.

Twenty.

The girl from Six was grinning – a wide, silly grin.

The pair from Eight shared a quick look before preparing to run in opposite directions – the boy towards the mountains, the girl away from everyone else.

Ten.

Alistern glanced at the tribute he'd chosen, then typed the name confidently into his computer. Yes. Yes, that was the one.

Five. Four.


Libby Hall, 15
District Ten Female

Three. Two. One.

The gong rang out, but she didn't move. Couldn't move. The boy from Nine, the one to her left – he'd been looking at her. Studying her as the numbers counted down. Tears came to Libby's eyes. He would come after her, surely. He was coming for her.

But he didn't.

In one swift move, Husk turned in the other direction and tackled the girl to his left. Antiquity. Libby stared, horrified, as Husk's hands found the girl's neck. She could see Antiquity's face, her eyes wide.

Wide with fear.

Antiquity screamed, but her screams quickly turned to gasps as Husk's hands closed around her throat. She twisted. Squirmed. Tried to wriggle her way out of his grasp. But, soon – too soon – her arms stopped flailing. Her body went limp.

Then Husk turned around.

Libby knew she should run. Should have run while Husk had been ignoring her. She turned, but her foot caught on the edge of her platform, and she tumbled to the ground.

Before she could get to her feet again, Husk was there. On top of her, his fist coming towards her face. The blow struck hard, and Libby could taste blood in her mouth. Distantly, she was aware that she was screaming. Libby squeezed her eyes shut tight, but it didn't stop the pain. Another blow came. And another.

But then it stopped. A second later, Husk's weight was gone from her chest. Libby's eyes flew open to see Wulfric, a rock in his hand, wrestling with Husk on the ground. Husk was just as strong, but Wuflric had caught him off guard and landed a blow to his temple. Blood coated the rock in his hand, the same blood that was gushing from a deep gash across Husk's head. The younger boy struck out, landing a few punches, but Wulfric raised the rock again, bringing it down hard, and Husk's body went limp.

Libby staggered to her feet, blinking away blood and tears. As she stood there, gasping, dazed, a hand found hers. "Run," whispered a small voice, and Libby looked down to see Pike, pulling her away. Away from the blood. Away from the two dead children in front of her.

Wulfric looked up, nodding at her. "Run, Libby. Go." He tossed the rock aside, got to his feet, and took off – but not towards the mountains. Off to the right, across the plain.

Libby didn't think. She simply let Pike lead her away. Off towards the water. The ocean. As her vision started to clear, she could see Nicoline, already running ahead of them, scouting out what looked like a beach. The shore looked rocky. The waves looked strong. There didn't seem to be many plants. But, for the moment, that didn't matter.

She was still alive.


Equinox Kunzite, 16
District Two Male

He wasn't sure why he was laughing.

Equinox remembered asking Husk, during training, what he would do if there were no weapons. Well, now they would find out. At least, until they reached the Cornucopia. No weapons. No sword. No knife. Just his fists.

And that was just fine with him.

He lunged.

He'd been planning to go after the girl next to him – the one from Three – but she darted out of the way just in time. Her district partner, on the other hand, wasn't quite as quick. Equinox was still grinning, still laughing, as he pinned the boy. As he gripped the boy's neck in one hand and began punching with the other, he was vaguely aware of the girl running away. Abandoning her district partner. Her friend.

Just like that.

Blood stained his hands as the boy twisted beneath him, trying to get free. Equinox cackled, delivering punch after punch. Eventually, the squirming stopped. But he didn't. Not yet. Not yet.

"Equinox!"

Equinox sprang to his feet, irritated at himself for responding so quickly to Harakuise. The little boy wasn't in charge, after all. Husk was. But where was Husk?

As if in answer, the boy from Twelve, Aldo, joined them, breathless. "Husk's dead," he gasped, as if not quite believing it himself.

Both Aldo and Equinox turned to Harakuise. Waiting. The younger boy looked around. Most of the tributes were running straight towards the mountains, but a few groups had broken off. The girls from Eight and Ten and the boy from Six were headed for the beach. And, oddly, the larger pack was headed off to the south, around the mountains.

An odd smile made its way across Harakuise's face. "That's a gamble, but they might be right."

"About what?" Aldo asked, speaking for both of them.

Harakuise shrugged. "He said the Cornucopia was on the other side of the mountains. He never said it was directly across. If it is, the girl from One will probably get there first; she was in the lead when everyone took off. But if it's not directly on the other side – if it's a bit to the north or to the south – we could still get there first."

"So we should follow them?" Equinox asked.

Harakuise shook his head. "Three of us, six of them? No. If the Cornucopia's that way, they'll get there first. But if it's to the north…" He nodded in the opposite direction, towards what looked like it might be patches of ice. "We still have a chance. What do you say?"

But, the way he said it, it clearly wasn't a question.

Boom. Boom. Boom.

Equinox nodded. "Let's go."


Angus Spencer, 13
District One Male

Prius seemed tireless.

Which was more than Angus could say for himself. Sure, he was much better-prepared than most of them, but he was still trying to keep up with someone three years older than him and quite a bit taller. It had been at least twenty minutes, and they hadn't even reached the mountains yet. The Cornucopia could be miles away yet.

He needed some water.

And then he saw it – water. Between them and the mountains, a small lake, blocking their path. Across the lake, the mountains sloped up. He could see where some of the tributes had taken a path, around the lake to the north, then following a path over the mountains where the rocks weren't as steep. He could also see a cave-like entrance leading into the mountains.

Maybe leading through the mountains.

"Look!" he pointed, hoping Prius would share his opinion – that the caves might be faster. Easier.

But they had to get across the lake first. Across or around.

Prius grinned. "Can you swim?"

Angus shook his head. "Can you?" he asked skeptically.

Prius nodded. "Of course I can, silly. Come on." With that, she scooped Angus up onto her back and waded into the water.

The water was cold, but that was the least of his worries. He looked stupid. Weak. The little tribute from One who couldn't even swim, who had to rely on his ally to carry him across. He was supposed to be surprising them with his ruthlessness. He was probably just making them laugh.

Well, let them laugh. He would show them. He just had to wait for the right moment.

Just then, something caught his eye. Something in Prius' hair. A smile formed on his lips. "Nice comb," he commented.

Prius giggled. "Take a closer look."

Angus took the comb and felt the ends. They were sharp and deadly. How had they let her bring this into the arena? No wonder she was so cheery, so unconcerned with getting to the Cornucopia first. She already had a weapon.

Except she didn't. He had it now.

Surprise them.

They were drawing close to the other side of the lake. Prius was walking now. Wading. Which meant the water would be shallow enough for him.

He wrapped his arms around her. She probably thought he was simply holding on tighter. She didn't realize he still had her comb.

Not until he gave a sudden yank backwards, driving the sharpened ends into her neck.

She didn't even scream. It was more of a startled, gurgling sound as she collapsed beneath him, dropping him into the water. Water that was quickly turning red with blood. Angus thrashed for a moment before finding his footing, making his way to shore, where he lay, catching his breath.

Boom.

Angus stared at where Prius' body lay, floating in the water. Dead.

Slowly, hesitantly, he got to his feet and made his way back into the water. The blood soaked into his shirt, but, for a moment, he didn't care. In a moment, he could worry about cleaning himself up, but there was something he needed even more right now. He needed his weapon back.

Even though he'd already heard her cannon, Angus was cautious as he approached, as if at any moment Prius' body might spring to life and throttle him. But, of course, nothing of the sort happened. He turned the body over. Yanked the comb out of her neck. Made his way back to shore.

Angus grinned as he lay on his back, clutching the comb in one hand, staring up at the sky, knowing there were cameras somewhere nearby trained directly on him.

"Surprised yet?"


Cahra Sheed, 14
District Seven Female

It was just like climbing trees.

Or, at least, it was close enough. Some of the tributes had taken a longer path, not quite as steep, but Cahra knew they could make it over the steeper slopes. Hand over hand. Faster and faster. She'd lost track of some of the other tributes among the rocks, but it didn't matter. They wouldn't attack – not yet. They wouldn't risk losing their chance of reaching the Cornucopia first.

But Cahra wasn't afraid of that, either. Her alliance was younger, yes, but they were small. Quick. Agile. They would get there first – the three of them.

Or maybe the four of them now. The girl from Three, Lina, had been following them since fleeing the initial fight. Maybe she had decided to join them after all.

Cahra tried to tell herself that was a good thing. Better not to worry – not just yet – about the fact that this meant there was one more ally who would have to die, eventually, if she was to live. One more person she would have to say goodbye to.

No. No, she couldn't start thinking like that. Not yet. First, they needed to get to the Cornucopia. They needed to get supplies. Weapons. Then they could start worrying about the rest.

Cahra was so lost in her thoughts that she nearly fell when she reached the peak. But she caught herself, and then gave a shout of triumph. There it was! The Cornucopia! Just down the slope, she could see it, supplies strewn all around. Nearby lay a lake, and beyond that lay what seemed to be a vast desert. And no one was there! She was right – they were the first!

"Heloise! Ella!" she called, and they came running faster. Heloise was beaming, but Ella still looked nervous. Frightened. Cahra shrugged it off as they started down the slope.

As they neared the bottom, however, Cahra felt a hand close around her arm. Ella. The older girl pulled Cahra to a stop, but didn't have time to grab Heloise, who was already sprinting ahead. "Wait!" Ella hissed.

But Heloise kept going, running at a dead sprint towards the Cornucopia. Cahra wriggled, trying to break free of Ella's grip, but Ella held her fast. "Wait," she repeated, pulling Cahra down against the rocks.

And then the knife came flying.

Heloise screamed, but it was too late; the knife struck deep into her neck, and she fell to the ground, choking on her own blood. Cahra gave a shout, but Ella clapped her hand over the younger girl's mouth. "Quiet!" she hissed. "Someone's already there! We have to get out of here!"

Boom.

Cahra stared, dumbfounded, at the body of her friend on the parched earth. "Where?" asked a voice. The other girl. Lina.

Ella shook her head. "Anywhere. Just run."

Lina took off – off to the right, to the south. Ella followed, dragging Cahra, who stumbled behind, as if in a daze. No. No, it wasn't supposed to happen like this. They were supposed to get away from the Cornucopia together. They were supposed to get there first. Who had beaten them to it?

Who had been willing to kill a twelve-year-old girl?


Abstract Calls, 18
District One Female

One down.

That was all it was. Just one less tribute she would have to kill later. Better to get it over with. Better this way.

The other girls were running away. Abstract had to choose quickly. She had reached the Cornucopia only a few moments before them; she hadn't had time to gather any supplies yet. If she followed them now, she would risk others coming to collect the supplies while she hunted them. Or she could wait.

She could let them go.

Abstract shook her head and began gathering supplies – food and water, and as many knives as she could collect. Not that she needed all of them, but better for her to have them than someone else. Because that was all there was – small, roughly serrated knives. Nothing else.

It wasn't ideal, but she could work with it. She would have to.

She packed her supplies quickly. She wanted to get away before one of the larger packs – either Husk's or Zione's – arrived. Maybe she could hold her own in a fight against one or two of them, but she didn't want to face six of them at once. She would need to pick them off one at a time. Carefully.

And, for that, she needed to find somewhere else to stay.

Quickly, she glanced around what she could see of the arena. The way she had come, the mountains stretched from north to south, with an occasional cave-like entrance leading into the mountains. To the east, the terrain seemed to be mostly desert. To the north, there appeared to be a swamp – not the most appealing option, but a possibility in a pinch. In the distant southeast lay a large, looming shape that was probably another mountain.

Abstract slung a pack over her shoulders and turned decisively towards the mountains, heading for one of the smaller caves. Good cover. Defensible. And a good place to trap any tributes who happened to venture into the mountains. Yes. Yes, that would do nicely.

Despite telling herself not to, Abstract glanced down at the body as she passed. It was the girl from Twelve. Heloise, she was pretty sure. Abstract knelt down and retrieved the knife from the girl's neck. At least she had made it quick. Other tributes might not have shown her that mercy.

But Abstract wasn't like them. She didn't need to hear her victims' screams. She didn't need to see the blood flowing down their bodies. She didn't need them to suffer slowly.

She just needed them to die.


Zione Brink, 18
District Eight Male

Five cannons so far.

Zione silently cursed Sher for suggesting that they take the southern route around the mountains – a route that was now leading them through a dense forest after the mountains had become impassable. "He never said 'directly across,'" Sher had said with a smug smile. "It's probably quite a ways to the north or south."

Obviously, it had been directly across. And someone had found it already. Probably more than one someone.

Maybe they would kill each other off before his alliance got there.

"Five," Sterling said quietly. He, at least, wasn't bothered at all by the change of scenery. In fact, he may have preferred to stay in the forest without seeking out the Cornucopia for supplies and weapons. Surely he knew enough about which plants would be edible, or how to start a fire.

But they needed weapons. Zione was sure of that, at least. Yes, there were six of them, but one or two good men with a sword or a bow could easily wipe out dozens of weaponless men – to say nothing of six teenagers.

Teenagers. Children. But just as deadly as any of the soldiers he and Kiona had faced during the rebellion; the five cannons so far were proof of that. Of the five, the group had been able to account for three. Sher and Lordez had been nearby when the pair from Nine had died, and Kiona had seen her district partner go after the boy from Three. But the other two were a mystery. Which of their competitors were gone?

Zione shook the thought from his head. They would know soon enough. He could only hope that maybe it would be some of the stronger, more dangerous ones. They'd already had a stroke of luck with Husk's death; Zione had considered him one of the deadliest of the tributes. But the mightiest man could be slain by one arrow.

Or a rock. Which was what they might have to make do with if they couldn't find their way out of this forest soon.

"Six and Four," Sher said suddenly, without any explanation.

Zione bit his tongue. Refusing to take the bait. Not wanting to give Sher the satisfaction.

Brie, however, apparently wasn't on the same page. "Six and four what?"

Sher shrugged. "The other cannons. The girl from Six and the boy from Four."

Zione cocked an eyebrow, not bothering to ask how Sher had guessed that – for a guess it surely was. But it was probably too much to hope for. The girl from Six was naïve, yes, but also rather strong. And the boy from Four had taken off for the Cornucopia the moment the gong had sounded. He'd probably been one of the first to reach it, yet, but Zione had a hard time picturing anyone killing him this quickly.

Then again, he probably would have said the same about Husk.

Lordez shook her head. "Seven and Twelve. The girls. Probably stupid enough to actually charge into a fight at the Cornucopia."

"The girl from Four would be with them," Sher pointed out.

"She has more sense. She probably ran away already."

"Stop it!" Sterling shouted suddenly. "Listen to yourselves! You sound like you're betting on the Games! It's sick!"

Zione winced. Yeah, it was sick, but Sterling wasn't going to win any points with sponsors – most of whom were also betting on the Games – by saying things like that. "Let's just get to the Cornucopia," Zione suggested. "We'll find out about the cannons soon enough."

Sterling looked away, rather subdued. Of course; they had been talking about Cahra, his district partner. Zione caught himself wondering about Nicoline. He'd seen her running in the opposite direction, so she'd probably made it. He hoped so, and was a bit reassured by the fact that neither Lordez nor Sher had mentioned her as an option.

For Sterling's sake, he hoped Sher was right.


Aldo Retchwood, 16
District Twelve Male

He needed a new plan.

Not that he'd had much of a plan to begin with, but his original plan, such as it was, had been to stick with Husk and Equinox and wait for them to turn on each other. With Husk's temper, it would have happened sooner or later; he would simply have needed to stay out of the way while the other two fought it out.

He couldn't count on the same thing happening between Equinox and Harakuise. Equinox, maybe, but Harakuise had stayed calm earlier, had been the one to draw Equinox away from the fighting, hadn't batted an eyelid upon learning that Husk was dead. Aldo wondered what it would take to get him to snap.

Equinox, on the other hand, looked like he might snap if the ice went on for much longer. They were staying as close to the mountains as they could, not venturing out too far onto the slippery wasteland, but the going was still terribly slow. In the distance, they could see some reeds – what looked like it might be a bit of marshy swampland. But it still seemed far away.

Aldo shook his head. Going north had clearly been a mistake. They would never reach the Cornucopia first now.

Boom.

Another cannon. The fifth so far. Harakuise halted, suddenly cautious, as if the danger might be nearby. "The Cornucopia," he concluded at last. "Someone's found it."

"How do you know?" Equinox asked.

Harakuise shrugged. "I don't know. It's just the most likely by now, and means we were probably wrong about it being to the north. So the question is, what do we do now?"

"We should keep going," Equinox suggested. "Get there as quickly as we can, hope they've left by the time we get there."

"And if they haven't?" Harakuise asked. "If they're lying in wait there, hoping to ambush us? We'd be walking right into a trap, with no way of defending ourselves."

"I defended myself pretty well before against—"

"Against an unarmed boy from Three. And you did that very well, but do you really think the same strategy would work against five or six armed tributes?"

Equinox shook his head, reconsidering. "So what do you suggest?"

"We stay here. Or close to here. For now, at least. That swamp up there could provide us with some cover. We wait – maybe a few hours, maybe a few days – until we're sure they've left the Cornucopia. Or, if they decide to stay there, we wait until nightfall, wait until their guard is down. Then we go in. If we blunder in there unprepared, we'll be slaughtered. But if we wait until the right moment, we may have the chance to take out quite a few of them at once."

Aldo nodded. It sounded good. He liked the idea of waiting for a while; he wasn't ready to charge in fighting just yet. And he liked the idea of eliminating a good portion of the competition at once.

What he didn't like was the fact that both he and Equinox had turned to Harakuise for a plan without thinking about it. With Husk gone, surely one of them should have been named the leader, but, instead, the job had fallen to the younger boy. Aldo couldn't shake the fact that he should have questioned that, should have claimed the role as his own.

Aldo shrugged to himself as they headed for the marshland. Harakuise had asked for suggestions first, before giving his own. And his plan had been good. That was probably more than Husk would have done. Husk would have wanted to get to the Cornucopia quickly. Husk would have gone straight over the mountains – none of this going around the long way on the chance that maybe the Cornucopia wasn't exactly where they said.

Yes, Husk would have handled this very differently. But Husk was dead. And they were still alive. So, apparently, they had done something right.

Aldo just hoped it would last.


Mars Servitt, 18
District Four Male

The little runt was actually washing his shirt.

In nearly an hour, the boy from One had only left the lake long enough to allow the hovercrafts to collect the body of his ally. Ally. Mars sneered. The boy had guts – he had to give him that. But killing his own ally on the first day? Not the smartest move. Now there was no one to protect him.

Not that the Capitol girl would have been much protection, anyway. She would have been almost as easy to take out, even though Mars hadn't gotten anything from the Cornucopia yet. That could wait, long enough for him to eliminate one of his targets. Get the little one over with. Then he could worry about his more formidable opponent.

Since he had no weapons, he had to choose his moment carefully. The boy was stooped over, waist-deep in the water. Mars doubted he could swim. Perfect.

For you, Heaven.

The boy heard him coming soon enough to try to duck out of the way, but it was pointless. Mars grabbed him and immediately dragged him out into the deeper water. The boy thrashed, trying to keep his head above the water, but Mars was stronger, and had been swimming since he was small. This was his element. Nothing could touch him.

But then something did. Something in the water, something wet and sticky. Mars flinched as it brushed against his leg but thought nothing of it – until a huge tentacle burst out of the water next to him, wrapping both him and Angus firmly in its grip.

Then they were pulled under.

For a moment – one terrible moment – Mars thought that he might actually drown. But the creature seemed more interested in playing with them than in actually drowning them, because, after only a few seconds, they broke the surface of the water again, long enough for them to breathe before being dragged under once more. Again they surfaced, and then again. The last time, the creature released them with a terrible jolt, flinging them both in the direction of the mountains.

Mars hit the rocks with a terrible crack. The smaller boy slammed into him, Mars' body cushioning his fall as they both plummeted to the ground. They lay there, sputtering, for a moment, before the little boy rolled over slowly, trying to remove himself from Mars' reach.

But Mars couldn't reach. His arms wouldn't respond, nor would his legs. Panicking, he realized the cracking against the rock had been his own bones. His own neck or back, leaving him defenseless.

It didn't take Angus long to realize why he wasn't dead yet. Slowly, his own body bruised and aching, the younger boy crawled a little closer to Mars, as if not quite believing his eyes. Desperately, Mars tried to force his body to move, but only succeeded in rolling a few inches away from the boy.

A smile crept over Angus' face – a smile somewhere between relief and delight. He collapsed beside Mars, laughing hard. But his laughter was soon interrupted by a soft, pinging noise. A parachute.

Mars gritted his teeth as the boy limped over to where the parachute had fallen. The package was small. Angus opened it and removed what Mars could soon see was a knife. A small, thin, delicate blade, more ideal for small, precision cuts than for a fight.

The audience wanted a good show. Determined not to give them one, Mars closed his eyes, clenched his teeth, and waited.

It was two hours before the cannon sounded.


Aron Meldiar
District Six Mentor

Mags never took her eyes off the screen.

There were tears in her eyes, and a look of horror on her face, but she owed it to Mars to witness his death. Aron knew the feeling. For eight years, he'd done the same – watched, waiting silently for a tribute's final breath.

Aron slid an arm around Mags' shoulders as the cannon sounded. Mags hesitated only a moment before burying her face in his shirt. Aron held her tightly, wishing there was something he could say. Something that would make it better. But he knew that nothing would. Nothing he could say would make a difference. Nothing could ease the pain of losing her first tribute so brutally. So they simply sat there, wordless, as the hovercraft collected Mars' broken, bloody body.

Mags sobbed silently for a moment before apologizing. "I'm sorry. I've got no right to come crying to you. Prius…"

Tears came to Aron's eyes, as well, at the mention of the girl. So naïve. So trusting. Angus had surprised them both. "She's at peace," Aron said at last, softly. "Nothing can touch them now – either of them; the Games have done their worst."

Mags looked up. "You really cared about her."

Aron smiled a little. "Yes. She didn't realize what she was doing, but, in her eagerness, she saved a life. There's a little girl somewhere in District Six who's alive and well because of Prius' actions. And though her reasoning may have been flawed, the deed itself was noble, nonetheless. As was Mars'."

Mags wiped the tears from her eyes. She probably hadn't given much thought to that – to the boy whose place Mars had taken, spared because of Mars' thirst for revenge. As misguided as Aron believed the boy's actions were – and Prius' – the fact remained that innocent lives had been saved, their places taken by children who freely chose the danger. It didn't make it right, but it at least made it more bearable.

And that was the best anyone could ask for in the Games.


"Tomorrow will be certain to bring worse than today, for many days to come. And there is nothing more that I can do to help it. The board is set, and the pieces are moving."