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Day Two
What You Have to Do


Elias Monet
District Four Mentor

They couldn't just sit there forever.

Elias drummed his fingers on the table as the walls of the arena began to glow again – slowly, at first, but then a little bit brighter. Daytime. But Freya, Demetrius, and Gareth were still sleeping soundly. Cedra was on watch, and was clearly starting to get anxious.

And not without good reason. When she had decided to ally with Freya, there had been little pressure. Since they hadn't joined either of the packs, the pair of them hadn't been expecting to act like Careers in the arena. They could have laid low. They could have gone unnoticed. The two of them waiting out the first few days of the Games by a water supply wouldn't have been exciting, but they hadn't been trying to be exciting.

But now they would have to be. Together, the four of them were arguably the strongest group in the arena. They couldn't simply wait around for the other groups to kill each other off. The Gamemakers wouldn't allow it, and they all knew it. They had been safe waiting the rest of the first day, and even the first night. In the pitch black, what could the audience expect them to do? But now…

They would have to get moving.


Euclid Hoover, 32
District Three

He had to keep moving.

Euclid held back a yawn as he kept stumbling forward. The walls of the cave were beginning to glow again. Was it morning? Already? Or were the Gamemakers simply playing with them? It didn't seem like it should be morning yet. It seemed like only a few minutes since…

Since he had killed Wisteria. Euclid swallowed hard, fighting back another yawn. Some part of him knew he needed rest. Sleep. But every time he thought about stopping to rest, the grief and the guilt returned. He didn't deserve to rest. He didn't deserve to sleep. How could he bear waking again, when Wisteria never would?

Euclid clenched his fists tightly, fighting back tears. She had attacked him. He hadn't known it was her. But, right now, none of that seemed to matter. All that mattered was that she was dead. That he had killed her.

It wasn't fair.

Suddenly, Euclid stopped short. For a moment, he had thought he heard something. A gentle, quiet sound. Breathing, maybe – or even a soft groaning noise. Euclid's heart raced. Someone else was nearby. Somewhere. But he didn't hear any footsteps. Were they asleep? Were they injured?

Euclid swallowed hard, standing perfectly still. He had been moving in the same direction since leaving Wisteria's body – or, at least, he had thought he had. He couldn't have made it back to her. And, even if he had, she was dead.

Wasn't she?

Of course she was. He'd heard the cannon. But the cannon could have been someone else's. Anyone else's. If there was even a chance that she was still alive – that she was the one he was hearing – then he had to make sure.

He had to know.

As quietly as he could, Euclid made his way towards the breathing. At last, he was close enough to see that it was, in fact, a person. A woman, lying in a small crook in the wall, her back turned towards him. But it wasn't Wisteria – not unless his eyes were playing tricks in the dark.

Then he saw the blood.

Euclid took a step back, startled. Whoever it was, they were injured – and badly, judging from the amount of blood. He crept closer. Closer. Finally, he could see a six on what was left of the woman's sleeve. Camryn. What had happened to her? What had happened to her allies?

No – ally. And Ira was dead; he'd seen her face on the wall. Euclid swallowed hard. A knife was lying beside Camryn; maybe she had been hoping that anyone who approached would make enough noise to wake her, and she would be able to grab it. It wasn't a great plan, but what choice had she had? She had obviously needed to rest.

Euclid clenched his fists. All he had to do was grab the knife, use it, and she would rest forever – just like Wisteria. Silently, he knelt beside her. Her shirt was stained red with blood. How long would she last, anyway? Not long, unless…

Unless someone helped her.

Euclid reached down, silently taking the knife. Camryn didn't budge. "I'll help you," he whispered, even though he knew she wouldn't hear. He hadn't said it for her – or even for the audience. He had said it to reassure himself.

Maybe to redeem himself.

He hadn't been able to help Wisteria. He hadn't been able to help his district partner last time, either. In fact, now that he thought about it, he'd never really been in a position to help anyone during the Games. Or even outside of them. Euclid clenched his teeth as he took a seat next to Camryn.

This time would be different.


Cedra Devere, 21
District Four

She had thought this time would be different.

Cedra shook her head as she continued to pace the length of their small cavern. It wasn't fair. She and Freya hadn't wanted this alliance. They had wanted to be left alone. They had wanted to stay away from all of the action, the pressure, the drama that came with being part of the Career pack.

But no one had even asked if this was what she wanted. And there hadn't really been much of a choice. Given the choice between joining Demetrius and Gareth and fighting them, she and Freya had made the right choice. The only choice.

But that didn't mean she had to like it.

Now they would have to act soon, because the Gamemakers weren't about to let one of the largest and strongest alliances in the arena simply sit there and do nothing. They had food, water, weapons – everything they needed. Everything they needed to survive.

And everything they needed to kill.

Finally, the growing light on the walls began to wake the other three. Demetrius smiled a little. "Good morning."

Maybe he was trying to sound pleasant. Maybe he just wanted to say something normal. But she wasn't in the mood. "What's so good about it?"

"We're alive," Freya offered. And she was right, but that didn't make it any less irritating. That was all they really had to be thankful for, in the end – their lives. Everything else had been stolen from them. And the fact that they hadn't been murdered yet didn't seem like much to be grateful for.

"And so are fifteen other tributes," Gareth pointed out. "Nineteen of us in all."

Cedra nodded. The cannon had woken her during the night. She hadn't thought anyone would be reckless enough to keep moving once the lights were out, but maybe someone had decided to chance it. Or maybe they had been injured earlier and died during the night. Or maybe…

Maybe someone did have light. Maybe there had been lamps or flashlights or something at the Cornucopia, and they had missed them because they had run. Normally, there was something in the arena that would burn – wood for torches, usually. If they could get ahold of something that would provide light at night, they would certainly have an advantage.

"We need to find light," Cedra said quietly.

Gareth cocked an eyebrow, glancing around. "Pretty sure we have all the light we need right now."

Demetrius shook his head. "She meant for later – for tonight. So that we can see once it gets dark again." He stood up slowly. "That means we'll have to go back to the cornucopia."

Cedra bit her lip. She hadn't meant to suggest that – not really. But he was right; that was the obvious solution. There weren't likely to be any lights just lying around the arena, after all. "We should wait a little while, at least. The other Career pack won't be sitting around the cornucopia all day. We should wait an hour or so, send out a scout to see how many guards they left, and then figure out what to do next."

Demetrius clapped Cedra on the back. "I think we have a volunteer."

Cedra hesitated a moment. She hadn't meant to volunteer. She had simply been stating the obvious plan. But then she glanced at Freya, who nodded. Demetrius wasn't suggesting that she go because he wanted to risk her life, or because he considered her expendable. He was giving her a chance to prove herself.

And she couldn't afford to waste it.


Aelin Kuang, 60
District One

They couldn't afford to waste any more time.

Aelin drummed her fingers on the side of the cornucopia as the others shook themselves awake. How could they have slept so well? She'd been so restless during the night, she'd woken up halfway through Clark's watch and offered to take his place because she wasn't going to be able to sleep, anyway. If it hadn't been so dark, she would have suggested they start hunting then.

But it had been dark. Too dark to do anything but wait it out. As soon as the walls had begun to glow again, she had scoured the cornucopia supplies for anything that could be useful. Matches, flashlights, lamps – anything.

But there had been nothing. No way to hunt at night – at least not yet. So they would have to make use of the daylight, such as it was, as much as they could.

Most of the others, however, didn't seem to be in any particular hurry to get moving. Hatchet and Clark were sorting through the supplies, finding breakfast. Maximus was pacing the room – maybe as restless as she was. They couldn't afford to waste time – not when the Gamemakers could turn the lights off again at any moment, regardless of the actual time. How long had the lights been off? A full night? Longer? It had certainly seemed longer, but maybe that was just her mind playing tricks.

Aelin shook her head. "We need to get moving." Hatchet and Clark were eating, and Maximus had finally settled down to breakfast, as well, but that was no reason why they couldn't discuss strategy. "We should leave a guard at the cornucopia."

"I volunteer," Hatchet offered. When that prompted a few raised eyebrows, she simply shrugged. "What? We all know I'd slow down any hunting group. I'm the obvious choice."

"You want us to leave you here alone?" Clark asked, understandably concerned. Hatchet had barely survived the bloodbath – and only with his help. If they left her alone now…

"You can stay with her if you're so worried," Aelin shrugged, shooting Maximus a glance. Maximus nodded, keeping silent while Clark considered the offer. She didn't want him interfering; she wanted to see what Clark would do.

Clark glanced from Hatchet to Aelin to Maximus, then back again. Considering. Weighing the options. Finally, Hatchet broke the tension, giving Clark's shoulder a squeeze. "Go with them; I'll be fine."

That was all the prompting Clark needed. He took the old woman's hand gently. "Be safe."

Hatchet chuckled. "Don't you worry about me. I've got Hadrian here for company." She gave the corpse a punch in the side.

Aelin cringed. Was she trying to rub it in? The fact that Hatchet and Clark were still alive, while Hadrian was dead – it wasn't fair.

But Maximus suddenly stood up. "Actually, that's not a bad idea." Without any further explanation, he started propping Hadrian's body up against the cornucopia, then did the same with the other three. From a distance…

No. No, it wouldn't fool anyone. But it might throw them off-guard a little. Might make them hesitate. And, in a critical moment, that might be enough. Hatchet chuckled a little. "Well, they're not exactly a lively bunch, but I'll take all the help I can get." Aelin nodded, rolling her eyes.

She could take care of herself.


Shyanne James, 19
District Five

They could take care of themselves.

Shyanne clenched her fists as she heard the noise again – the footsteps behind them. Someone was following them. Well, two someones, actually. Valion and Silvesta. She had caught a glimpse of them a while back. They had slipped behind a rock, but not quickly enough. She had seen them, and she was certain they knew it.

So why hadn't they said something? The obviously didn't mean to attack. So what were they doing? Keeping an eye on them? Hoping to protect them?

She didn't need their protection. But it was more than that. If something happened – if the Gamemakers went after her and Felix – she didn't want Valion to get caught up in it. Maybe that was why he hadn't said anything. As long as he stayed out of sight, he could pretend that he and Silvesta were stalking them, rather than trying to help them. The audience probably wouldn't buy it, but maybe it would be enough to keep him safe…

No. None of them were safe. None of them had ever been safe – even when they had talked themselves into believing they were.

So they might as well have a little fun.

Shyanne glanced at Felix, who had been strangely quiet since she had woken him about an hour before, when the lights along the walls had returned. "What's the matter?" she asked, but Felix simply put a finger to his lips. "What is it?" she pressed.

"Shhh," Felix insisted. "Listen."

Shyanne listened closely, but she couldn't hear anything. She couldn't even hear Valion and Silvesta anymore. But Felix stopped short, slowly kneeling down and putting his ear to the ground. "You don't hear that?"

No. She didn't hear anything. But now she felt it – something shaking the ground under their bare feet. Vibrating. An earthquake?

Or something else?

"Run!" Felix called suddenly, leaping up and taking Shyanne's hand. The pair of them ran – from what, exactly, Shyanne wasn't sure, but she wasn't about to argue. The two of them veered quickly to the left, and, finally, out of the corner of her eye, she could see what was coming after them.

It was a spider – except much, much bigger. It was at least twice her size, barely big enough to scurry through the tunnel. But despite its size, it was moving with surprising speed. Behind it was another – and then a third.

Shyanne squeezed Felix's hand as hard as she could. They had both known that the Gamemakers would come after them. "Shyanne," Felix gasped, squeezing her hand. "You have to—"

But she knew what she had to do.


Felix Norwood, 25
District Twelve

He knew what he had to do.

Felix ducked to the side as Shyanne lunged. She understood. The spiders – and the Gamemakers – weren't going to let both of them get away. Only one of them could survive this.

Only she could survive this.

The Gamemakers weren't going to let him win; it had been obvious from the start. The only thing he could do was screw them over one last time. They had won before. Ross had died right in front of him, and he'd had to live with that for eight long years.

He wouldn't let that happen again.

"This is all your fault!" Shyanne cried, lunging again. Again, he dodged. The spiders were coming closer. "You were the one who wanted to mess up the Games! I should never have listened to you!"

She was acting, of course. But the words still stung. It was his fault she was in danger. Maybe it had been Evo's idea, but he had gone along with it wholeheartedly, not caring if he got himself killed. But he had never wanted to get Shyanne killed along with him. He had never wanted to hurt her.

And he didn't want to hurt her now, but he had to. He had to make it look real, or the audience would never believe it. And if the audience didn't believe they were fighting, the Gamemakers would never let either of them live.

So the next time Shyanne lunged, Felix grabbed at her, and they both tumbled to the hard cave floor. "My fault?" Felix demanded. "If your damn mentor hadn't gotten himself killed, we might have been able to come up with an actual plan. But you just had to tell Valion what we were thinking of doing – and, well, he took care of the rest, didn't he."

Shyanne's eyes grew wide as they tumbled, and Felix knew he had hit a nerve. Whether or not Valion had actually been responsible for Rufus' demise, he wasn't really sure. Somehow he doubted it. But playing along with that idea could only help Shyanne, as long as she realized…

"You're right, he did," Shyanne spat, throwing a punch. "And I only wish he'd done it sooner – maybe then I wouldn't have gotten roped into your little … your little rebellion." She spat the word in his face even as his fist connected with her mouth. Out of the corner of his eye, Felix caught a glimpse of the spiders. They were certainly close enough to attack, but, sure enough, they were waiting. Waiting for the right moment.

Felix caught Shyanne's wrist as it came hurtling towards his head. "Rebellion," he spat back. "I guess that makes you a traitor. I was your ally." He grabbed one of the rocks that they had been using to smash the cameras and chucked it at her head. She dodged, then grabbed one of her own with her free hand.

"No," she said firmly. "I wasn't." The rock came down – hard this time, against his head – and Felix let it, making a show of flailing at her arm as it came down, then grabbing a clump of hair in his fist as the blood began to flow down his face. Shyanne struck again. "I never was." Again. "And I never will be."

Felix threw one punch. Then another. But Shyanne was already on her feet. Already scrambling past the spiders. Felix clenched his teeth, trying not to smile as she ran past them unharmed, calling, "He's all yours."

Slowly, Felix climbed to his knees, and then his feet. But the path Shyanne had taken was gone, blocked by three large spiders. Felix finally allowed himself a smile as the spiders charged. "Well, let's get this over with."

The biggest one – nearly too big to crawl through the tunnels – charged first. Felix ducked beneath one of her legs, dodging a strike from her fangs. As he ducked, he snatched up the rock Shyanne had struck him with, then struck one of the other spider's legs as hard as he could.

It did no good. He hadn't been expecting it to. The spider didn't budge, and the third one was closing in. He was surrounded. Felix ducked under one hairy leg, then another, but then another leg swiped in front of him, knocking him off his feet. Something struck him in the leg, pinning him down. One of the spider's claws, he realized, had gone straight through his right thigh. Pain shot through his leg, blood beginning to flow as the spider yanked its claw back out.

Felix gritted his teeth, trying to stagger to his feet, but, before he could, the biggest spider's giant head came hurtling towards him, its fangs ready. One of them pierced straight through his chest, and Felix let out a laugh, coughing blood, as the world started to spin and the venom began to do its work.

At least it would be quick.


Silvesta Ardin, 47
District Twelve

Boom.

Silvesta shuddered as the sound of the cannon echoed through the stone passageways. The ground had been shaking for a while, and she and Valion had stopped, not knowing which way the shaking was coming from, or which way to run.

Then they had heard voices. Felix and Shyanne, she was sure of it. But Valion had held her back. He had probably saved her life. Whatever trouble Felix and Shyanne were in, they wouldn't be able to help. Not really.

But then why had they been following them? Silvesta shook her head. What had she thought she would be able to accomplish by keeping an eye on Felix? Had she really thought she would be able to protect him?

Had she really thought she could protect him from himself?

Silvesta gripped Valion's hand tightly. There had only been one cannon. What did that mean? Had the Gamemakers wanted to keep one of them alive for later? Or would another cannon follow soon enough?

Just as she was about to suggest that maybe they should see what had happened, she heard something. Footsteps. Silvesta tensed, but then she saw Valion smile. "Over here!" he called. "We're over here!"

Silvesta raised an eyebrow. Who did he think it was? Shyanne? Who else would he be calling to? But how could he be so sure? And if it was Shyanne, wouldn't the mutts – or whatever the Gamemakers had sent – be following her? Why would he take the chance of drawing them closer?

Would she take that chance if she thought it was Felix?

But it wasn't Felix. Couldn't be Felix. The Gamemakers would never let him go; he had known that from the start. But Shyanne…

Sure enough, as the footsteps came closer, Shyanne came into view in the pale yellow glow, running towards them with tears in her eyes. Immediately, Valion ran to her, catching her in a hug. "It's all right. It's all right. You're okay now. It's okay."

Silvesta took a step closer, watching the two. "What happened to Felix?"

Shyanne took a deep breath. Swallowed hard. Deciding. "I killed him," she said at last, quietly. But then, louder, "I killed him. And I wish I'd done it sooner."

She didn't. She couldn't. And she probably hadn't killed him at all. How could she have? Neither of them had any weapons, and she was much smaller than him. But there was blood on her shirt, and she didn't seem to be injured, aside from a few bruises on her face. Maybe she had killed him.

Silvesta shook the thought from her head. If she had, there must have been a reason. Maybe Felix had even told her to, in order to let her get away. That didn't sound like Felix, but, then again, there was no telling what he might do. And there was no way to know for sure – not now that he was dead.

Dead. Felix was dead. As much as she hated it, she almost felt relieved. Valion, too, looked much more at ease as he pulled Silvesta into their hug, holding both her and Shyanne close. "Come on," he said quietly. "Let's get out of here."

But before they could go anywhere, there was a gentle pinging noise. All three of them glanced around. The noise was familiar – a parachute – but where was it? How would a parachute even get into the tunnels?

Soon enough, they had their answer. A soft whirring noise filled the tunnel, and a small, round door opened in the ceiling – just large enough for a package to float through. Immediately, the door closed again, blending into the rock around it. Valion knelt and lifted the package. "It's for you, Shyanne."

Sure enough, there was a five on the package – but that could be for either of them. Valion, however, seemed content to let her have it, so Shyanne quickly opened the package. Inside was a metal rod, about two feet long and an inch thick, with a button on the side. Cautiously, Shyanne pressed the button, and light came shining from the end of the rod. Another press of the button quickly turned it off. As Sivlesta watched, a smile crept over Shyanne's face.

"Now we can go."


Aras Everett, 63
District Nine

"We have to go!"

Aras' voice was a whisper, but no less urgent. A rumbling noise had filled the tunnel a few moments ago, and it was growing closer. The three of them quickly ran for the nearest passageway, hoping that whatever was coming would choose a different direction.

But it didn't. The sound kept following them. "This way!" Aras called, ducking into a small opening in the wall, then pulling Jani in after him. Galen quickly caught up, joining them inside just as the mutts rushed past.

They were spiders – giant spiders. Aras shuddered as they passed by. One. Two. Three. Three giant spiders. But they hadn't attacked. Hadn't even seemed to notice them, really. There had been a cannon a little while ago. Maybe that had been their doing. Maybe the audience would be satisfied for now.

But not for long. "We should head back the other way," Aras suggested. "We don't want those things finding us."

"Maybe we do." To his surprise, the voice was Jani's. "Maybe … maybe we should follow them."

Aras opened his mouth to object, but Jani continued. "If they're headed back that way, there must be a reason. Maybe their nest is there."

"That sounds like a good argument for going any other direction," Galen pointed out.

Jani nodded. "Yeah, it's dangerous. But think about it. What do spiders drink?"

"Blood?" Galen offered.

Jani cringed. "Maybe. But a spider that big? Living down here? It would never get enough blood to survive – not really. If we're looking for water – or maybe even food – our best bet is following them."

Galen shrugged. "I think the kid might be right, Aras."

Maybe he was. Maybe he wasn't. The only certainty was that the audience would love it. It was bold. Dangerous. Daring. Exactly the sort of thing he should leap at the opportunity for – or should even have suggested himself.

So why did it feel wrong?

Aras shook the thought from his head, clapping Jani on the back. "All right, then. Tracking giant killer spiders it is. Let's go."

He just hoped they weren't making a mistake.


Clark Tierney, 23
District Seven

He just hoped he hadn't made a mistake.

Clark gripped his axe tightly as the sound of the cannon continued to echo through the tunnels. Just one – one cannon. He turned the axe over in his hand. Had the cannon been Hatchet's? They hadn't been gone that long; they'd been making their way down the red passageway for about ten minutes. But how long would it take for someone to overpower her? She had almost died during the bloodbath. How long would she really last if someone decided to attack the cornucopia? Would she really try to defend it, or would she have the sense to run?

And even if she ran, would she be able to get away?

But there hadn't been any other choice – not really. He could have stayed, of course, but that would have meant only Maximus and Aelin, hunting alone. That wasn't much of a pack. And would the Gamemakers really have let him stay at the cornucopia with Hatchet, just waiting for the others to come back? No. No, this had been the right choice. The only choice?

So why did it feel so wrong?

Clark swallowed hard. It felt wrong because Hatchet could die. And he probably wouldn't. He was risking her life, rather than his own. Because that was the only way to survive the Games. The only way he would survive the Games. He had already saved her once. He couldn't keep risking his life trying to keep her safe.

And she knew that as well as anyone else. She had told him to go. Promised that she would be all right. She knew better. Her only hope was that no one decided to attack the cornucopia.

Which was a possibility, of course. What other groups would still be in the area? They had some idea of which way some people had run, but no way of knowing how far they had gone. Which ones had kept going, and which ones might still be nearby.

Which was why they were out hunting, of course. Why he was out hunting. Hunting with a Career pack – another thing that just felt wrong. He had spent his own Games running from the Careers. Hiding from the Careers. Hoping that the Careers wouldn't find him and his allies.

Now he was one of them. And so was Hatchet. Whether they really expected her to be able to defend it or not, they had still left her alone at the Cornucopia. They trusted her at least that much.

Not that they'd really had much of a choice. With Hadrian gone, they couldn't afford to lose anyone else. And she had been right about being the right choice for who to leave behind. There were no good options. No right choice that would guarantee safety for all of them.

And hunting … well, that had its dangers, too. He wasn't really safe. None of them were. That last cannon could have been anyone's, and so could the next. The next one could be Hatchet's, or Maximus' or Aelin's, or even his.

No one was ever safe in the Games.


Winnow Rathings
District Seven Mentor

"No one is ever safe in the Games."

Winnow glanced up as Benton hoisted himself into a seat beside her. "That's easy for you to say," she mumbled. His tribute was about as safe as he could be alongside Aelin and Maximus, while hers…

Benton chuckled a little. "Really? Winnow, Hatchet was my mentor before you were even born. If you think I don't care about her just because I happen to be mentoring Clark, instead—" He took a long drink. "—then you really don't understand how this mentoring thing works."

Winnow shook her head. He was right, of course. "I'm sorry. I'm just—"

"—Stressed. I know. Clark is doing what he has to do. So is Hatchet. So are all of us. Maybe it's not the best situation, but it could always be worse."

Winnow cocked an eyebrow. "How?"

Benton chuckled a little. "They could have left Aelin behind, instead."

Winnow did her best not to burst out laughing. "Thanks, Benton."

"Don't mention it. We all need a good laugh every now and then."

"I don't know how you do it."

"Do what?"

"Mentor every year – you and Hatchet. How do you … get through it."

Benton shrugged. "A lot of this." He gave his drink a shake. "And a lot of this." He indicated the rest of the room with a wave of his arm. "There's a reason we're all here, together. It's easier than dealing with it alone."

Winnow nodded a little. "And why District Two?"

"What's that?"

"Why District Two's quarters?"

Benton hesitated for a moment. "I'm not sure. You could ask Sherman."

He nodded to another table, where Sherman and Avery were chatting with Aramanth and Elias. Probably discussing their own tributes, and what their next course of action should be. Probably a raid on the cornucopia. Winnow shook her head. "Probably not the best time."

"Probably not," Benton agreed. "But there's never really a good time, is there." He hopped down from his chair.

"Might as well find out."


"Courage isn't just a matter of not being frightened, you know. It's being afraid and doing what you have to do anyway."