Disclaimer: The Hunger Games is not mine.

Note: First, there's a new poll on my profile. As promised, this time I'm asking who you would like to see as victor. To be perfectly honest, I've had my victor chosen for a while, and this poll is unlikely to change my mind, but I'm curious, anyway. As usual, read the chapter first.

Second, I just want to say that I had a tremendous amount of fun writing this chapter. Some of these ideas have been bouncing around in my head ever since I received these characters, and it's fantastic – if somewhat odd – to finally have them out on paper.

Third, I feel I should apologize a little for (or at least acknowledge) the punny chapter title. It's on the list of things I just couldn't resist.

It's a pretty long list.

Day Four
To the Very Brink

Helius Florum
Head Gamemaker

"Ready?" Helius asked with a grin.

Bregal and Golian nodded, but Helius could tell they were nervous. And quite rightly so; they had never attempted anything like this with the trees or the spiders before, even though they had spent months preparing both. But there was no going back now. They couldn't just let Ella sit there in her forest. She had to do something. He had to make sure the audience still knew she was there, still cared about her.

Because she was his trump card. His contingency plan. His insurance in case something went very wrong with the other part of the plan.

"All right," Helius nodded. "Let's give 'em a good show."

And, with that, the trees charged into the oncoming spiders.

The battle that followed would probably have looked like chaos to an outside eye, but Helius knew that every movement, every swing of a branch, every inch of spiderweb, was carefully arranged. Bregal followed Ella's movements flawlessly, the trees responding instantly to her every command. Golian drove the spiders closer and closer to Ella, almost – almost – entangling her in their webs.

But not quite. Always she stayed just out of the spiders' reach. To the audience, it would appear to be Ella's own cleverness keeping her safe, but it was all part of the design. He needed her to survive, but he also needed her to work for it. She needed to appear to have barely won.

Ella climbed higher and higher in her tree, trying to stay out of the spiders' reach. All around her, the spiders' cries filled the air. Trees were tangled in their webs, but, for every tree that fell, another spider was crushed by their roots. Everything was so purposefully, so evenly matched. Helius grinned.

Then Ella jumped.

Ella Halliwell, 17
District Four Female

Chaos.

Everything around her was chaos – a flurry of spiderwebs and branches and screams. High in her tree, Ella pressed her hands to her ears, trying to block out the noise. The confusion.

The fear.

For the first time in days, she found that she was finally, truly afraid. She had thought her forest to be invincible, yet here she was, being slowly beaten down by a pack of spiders. They followed her into the tree, higher and higher. Any second now, they would reach her. They would wrap her in their silk and devour her. There was nothing she could do.

Nothing except jump.

Maybe that would be better. Quicker. She was high now. Very high. The fall would almost certainly kill her. But wasn't that better than being devoured by spiders? Quicker. Less painful. Yes, that would be better. Much better.

She jumped.

And one of the trees caught her.

She felt the branches close around her waist, knocking the wind out of her. But she was still alive. Quickly, with a speed she hadn't realized it could have, the tree bore her away from the battle. Back to the south, towards the mountain.

The other trees joined her. Retreating. The spiders followed, but their numbers were dwindling, and the trees were fast. Finally, they outdistanced the spiders. But Ella had no doubt they would return. They couldn't stop. Not until they found somewhere safe.

Somewhere safe.

Ella pointed towards the mountain, and the trees carried her steadily towards it. As they drew closer, she could see an opening in the mountain, leading inside. A cave. Yes. Yes, that was where she would go. That was where she would be safe.

The tree set her down just outside the opening. It was small. Too small for the trees to follow. But maybe that meant it was too small for the spiders, as well. With the trees standing guard, Ella ducked inside the cave, terrified and breathing hard, but alive.

Still alive.

Kiona Brink, 18
District Two Female

Still alive.

Kiona watched, almost amused, as Zione searched frantically through their supplies for something that would help her. Surely he knew – he had to – that one of them was going to die eventually. Only one of them could survive. And she had always meant for it to be him – ever since seeing his face on the screen. And now he could win. Now he could live.

Maybe it was better for it to happen now. Better if it didn't come down to the two of them. Because then he might decide to do something stupid and heroic so that their places could be exchanged. And he probably meant to. Probably meant for her to be the one to live. And he might have succeeded, too. He'd always been clever. Always been the strategist, the planner.

So maybe it would be better if she just died now.

It would certainly be a lot less painful. Her arm was completely numb below where Wulfric had struck her, but her leg was burning with pain, and it was growing worse. Kiona closed her eyes, trying to block out the pain, almost hoping to lose consciousness.

"Kiona." Zione's voice, begging, pleading. "Kiona, you have to stay awake. Stay with me. Please."

She opened her eyes to find him cradling her, holding something in his hand – some sort of pill he'd found in the supplies. "Here. Brie says this will help with the pain." Nearby, Brie sat with Sterling, who was propped up against the side of the Cornucopia, doing his best to remain conscious, as well.

Kiona took the pill and swallowed it. Slowly, the pain in her leg faded to a dull throbbing. But she could still feel it spreading, working its way up her leg. There was nothing that could stop it. Unless the sponsors sent something, and Kiona wasn't even sure she wanted them to any more.

Carefully, reaching up with her good arm, she removed her token, the red butterfly hairpin that her sister – their sister – had given her so many years ago. Smiling, she handed it to Zione. If he was going to be the last of their family, Amphrite would have wanted him to have it. There were tears in Zione's eyes as he took it. "You'll be fine," he insisted. "Our sponsors – they'll send something soon. You'll see. Any minute now, there'll be a parachute." Kiona wasn't sure if he was trying to convince her or himself.

"It's okay," Kiona whispered. "It's okay." She took his hand. "I'm not afraid."

And, to her surprise, she found that she wasn't. That it was okay. As she gazed up at Zione's face, she could almost see her father's face beside his, and her mother's, and her sister's. Now she could join them. All she had to do was let go. It would be so easy.

So easy.

Then she heard a soft pinging, and she saw the parachute.

Zione Brink, 18
District Eight Male

Zione leapt up when he saw the parachute, determined to get to it first, just in case. Just in case there was only enough for one. Just in case he would have to fight Brie for it, in case she wanted to save Sterling.

But Brie didn't even make a run for it. Maybe she assumed that there would be enough. Quickly, Zione opened the package, and, to his relief, found that it contained two syringes, both filled with medicine. Zione heaved a sigh of relief as he hurried back to Kiona. He had never imagined that he would be grateful to someone in the Capitol for anything, but now he couldn't begin to thank them enough.

Kiona almost looked disappointed to see the medicine, but Zione knew that, once she was better, she would thank him. Even if they only had another day or two together before they did have to say goodbye, it was worth it. And he meant for her to have a more than another day or two. He had always meant for her to be the one to survive – ever since he had seen her face on the screen. And now she could win. Now she could live.

Tears of relief – almost triumph – filled his eyes as he chose one of the syringes and injected his sister.

For a moment, nothing happened. But then everything went wrong. Kiona began coughing, gasping for air, and then suddenly her whole body was convulsing. "Zione!" she gasped, her eyes wide, her face turning an alarming shade of red. Her whole body shook, her limbs thrashing about, her chest heaving violently up and down. Then she went still.

Then he heard the cannon.

For a moment, Zione could only stare, stunned. Slowly, staring at the vial in his hand, he pieced together what had happened. What must have happened. Someone in the Capitol – they must have known. Figured out the truth about them. Or maybe it was the Gamemakers themselves who had plotted to kill his sister.

And, worst of all, they had used him to do it.

Zione leapt up, gave a loud cry, and hurled the syringe in the direction of the mountains. "You!" he shouted at the sky, at the Capitol, at the Gamemakers, no longer caring who knew that he hated them, loathed and despised them with every fiber of his being. "You did this!" And not just the ones who had sent the poison. No, all of them. They were all responsible. All guilty.

"You did this! You, with your Games and your celebrations and your festivals celebrating the death of children! And you wonder why we fought back? You wonder why we rebelled? This! This is why, you monsters! Because anyone who can sit by and watch as children kill each other doesn't deserve to live, let alone to rule, to live in luxury while the rest of us starve! This is why everyone in the districts hates you! Yes, hates you, not fears you, as you'd like to think!"

"And you think this will stop us! You think that by making us fear you, you'll be able to stamp out that hatred! No! No, we won't be the last! It may take years, or decades, or maybe centuries, but the people will fight back! They will rise! And they will destroy you! All of you! You who sit by and do nothing – you're just as guilty as the ones in control. Just as guilty – all of you!"

Zione's voice was thick with tears as he sank to his knees beside Kiona's body, cradling her and rocking back and forth, seriously considering injecting himself with the other syringe. But he wouldn't give them that pleasure. No. No, when he died, it wouldn't be by their hands, and it wouldn't be by his own.

It wasn't much, but it was all he had left. Kiona had died to save him. Maybe he could do the same. To die protecting someone, to make his death have meaning – that was the last thing the Capitol wanted. Zione looked up at last, glancing over in Brie and Sterling's direction.

But they were gone.

Brie Fallyn, 17
District Five Female

"And you wonder why we fought back? You wonder why we rebelled?"

We.

Not good. Not good at all. Zione had just painted an arena-sized target on his back, but he was clearly too overwhelmed by Kiona's death to care what happened to him anymore. Maybe he believed he had nothing left to live for. But Brie did.

And so did Sterling.

If Zione wanted to get himself killed, that was one thing, but he wasn't going to take them down with him. Quickly, Brie knelt down and draped Sterling's arm over her shoulders. "Come on," she whispered. "We have to go."

Sterling had just enough strength left to stand. He was leaning heavily on her as they left, and Brie was sure that, at any moment, Zione would notice, but he didn't. He was still shouting, cursing the Gamemakers and the Capitol and anyone else who was listening.

Brie shook her head as they made their way towards the mountains. It seemed like the safest direction, and if they could reach the lake, they'd have fresh water. Zione had pretty much ruined their chances of getting any sort of help from sponsors, but maybe if they got some rest – and put as much distance as possible between them and him – they would be safe for a while.

She was almost surprised the Gamemakers hadn't dropped a bomb on them as soon as Zione began his tirade. But maybe they had something else planned. Something slower. And, if that was the case, they didn't want to be anywhere nearby when it happened. And maybe – just maybe – the audience would be distracted enough that they would forget about her and Sterling for a while.

It was a lot of maybes, but it was the best chance they had.

Suddenly, Sterling tripped, and the two of them collapsed on the ground, gasping for breath. Brie hadn't realized just how tired she was, how much of an effort it was to practically carry him. Sterling rolled over onto his back, exhausted. "Water," he gasped.

Brie silently cursed her own carelessness. She'd been so worried about getting away from the Cornucopia as quickly as possible that she hadn't thought to bring any supplies with them. She glanced towards the mountains. They were close to the lake – maybe a quarter of a mile. Not far for her. But with him…

"Wait here," Brie instructed, climbing to her feet.

Sterling nodded. "As if I was going anywhere."

Brie smiled a little as she sprinted towards the mountains, hoping she was right. Abstract had been camped out somewhere in this direction – probably relatively close to the lake. She hadn't attacked them when they had come to the lake earlier, and they had assumed she was dead, since they had seen a hovercraft in the direction of the mountains shortly before Wulfric and Equinox had attacked.

Then again, they had assumed a lot of things.

But it was worth the risk. Abstract must have had supplies. And there was no reason they wouldn't still be there.

On her own, it didn't take Brie long to find the right cave. But as she was filling a bottle of water to take back to Sterling – hoping that it would be enough to help him make it the rest of the way – she heard a cannon.

Brie didn't think. She simply raced back in Sterling's direction, hoping the cannon wasn't his. Hoping that it was Ella's. Or Harakuise's. Or even Zione's.

Anyone but Sterling's.

Harakuise Swallot, 14
District Five Male

"And you wonder why we fought back? You wonder why we rebelled?"

We.

Huddled at the back of the Cornucopia, bloody and weak and trembling, struggling even to breathe amid the pain in his chest, Harakuise opened his eyes. A voice. A boy was shouting. His voice echoed inside the Cornucopia, making the pounding in Harakuise's head even worse. But the voice didn't belong to just any boy. Not just any opponent.

A rebel.

Cautiously, Harakuise crept towards the mouth of the Cornucopia. His vision was a bit blurry, but he could see the boy – Zione – standing by the body of one of his allies, raging at the sky. At the Capitol. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Brie and Sterling leaving. Harakuise managed a smile; at least they had some sense. The boy was just begging to be struck down by the Gamemakers, or attacked by mutts, or—

Or he could finish what he had come here to do.

Harakuise glanced around. He had lost his knife, but there were plenty more. Silently, he chose one – a longer, thinner blade that fit well in his hand. He needed something comfortable. Something small and quick. Because he would only get one chance.

The boy was on his knees now, weeping. Harakuise scowled. The young rebel had no one to blame but himself. The Games, the death, the blood – it was all on his hands.

As silently as he could, Harakuise slid out of the Cornucopia and dropped to his hands and knees, quietly making his way towards the boy. He didn't have the strength to stand – he barely had the will to crawl – but he didn't need to go far. Blood dripped from his chest and onto the parched desert ground. With every movement, he was convinced Zione would hear him and turn around, but the boy was too consumed by his own grief to notice anything else. At last, the rebel boy was within reach.

Then Zione looked up. Towards the Cornucopia, where his allies had been. Harakuise froze, but Zione didn't glance around. His gaze returned to the body that Harakuise could now see was Kiona. Harakuise regained his senses and slid forward the last few inches.

For you, father.

He plunged his knife deep into Zione's back.

The boy turned, gasping, to face his attacker. "You," he hissed.

Harakuise collapsed back onto the ground, wondering if Zione had enough strength left to attack him, knowing that he certainly didn't have the strength to run. Zione started to reach for his knife, but then seemed to change his mind. His hands found a package nearby, and he removed a syringe. "You can die the same way she did, then," Zione decided.

Harakuise tried to stand. Tried to run. But his body was already too weak, and Zione was on him in an instant, fueled by rage and determination to take down one last opponent. Harakuise felt the needle pierce his shoulder, and Zione collapsed onto the desert ground, a contented smile on his face. "We'll win, in the end," he whispered. "It'll take years, but … we'll win. Let others rise to take our place, until…"

Boom.

Only one cannon.

Harakuise lay there for a moment, breathing. Just breathing. And, slowly, to his surprise, he realized that breathing was growing easier. The pain in his chest was beginning to fade, and his head was no longer throbbing quite as much. Harakuise glanced at his shoulder, at the empty syringe on the ground beside him.

And he laughed.

For a long time, he simply lay there, laughing, basking in the glorious irony of the fact that Zione had just saved his life. Not that he had meant to, of course. The boy had assumed that both vials would contain the same thing. But the Capitol had never meant for both the recipients to die.

They were smarter than that.

Harakuise rolled over, then crawled to where the alliance had piled their medical supplies and hunted through the stash until he found what he needed to bandage his chest, which he did quickly. Then, leaning back against the Cornucopia, he ate and drank his fill of their fresh water and food. "Thank you," he whispered, staring up at the sky.

He wasn't sure who he was thanking, exactly. Maybe the Gamemakers. Maybe the sponsors who had sent the parachute. Maybe his father for passing on the determination he'd needed to finish the deed. It didn't matter, really. Whoever was to thank, he now had a second chance.

And he intended to use it.

Sterling Therms, 18
District Seven Male

It was the Capitol anthem that woke him.

Sterling and Brie had taken shelter in the caves for the night, relatively well-supplied with the remains of Abstract's stock. The pain in his back was growing, but Sterling tried his best not to mention it, for Brie's sake. There was nothing either of them could do about it. Not anymore.

Abstract's face was the first to appear in the sky. Not exactly a surprise, since, if she was still alive, he and Brie would almost certainly be dead by now for trespassing on her territory.

Then Kiona. Sterling felt a lump in his throat as he realized how easily that could have been him, instead. If they had decided to use the medicine on him first, he would be dead, and Kiona would be alive. And Brie … who could say? Would she have had the sense to run, as he had suggested earlier? Would Kiona and Zione have decided they didn't need her?

Or maybe he was simply paranoid. Maybe they'd never had any intention of killing him or Brie. But it didn't matter now. For better or worse, he and Brie were on their own.

Equinox's face appeared. Then Nicoline, the little girl from Eight.

Then Zione.

Brie nodded, as if she'd expected it, but there were still tears in her eyes. Sterling wrapped an arm around her shoulders as Wulfric's face appeared. He wasn't sure what to say. He wanted to cry as badly as she did, but if they appeared too upset, the people in the Capitol – or, worse, the Gamemakers – might assume that they were rebels, as well. Better to play it safe for now.

So he changed the subject. "Who's left besides us, then?"

"Ella," Brie answered. "And Harakuise. And … that's it. Just the four of us."

"Four," Sterling repeated, trying not to sound surprised that he was one of those four.

Brie nodded. "Four. Ella's probably still in the forest. Harakuise … who knows? But I doubt he'll attack both of us at once; that's not really his style. Still, it's probably better to be careful. I'll take the first watch. You get some sleep."

Sterling was about to object, but he was tired. So tired. "Wake me when you get too tired," he offered, already knowing that she would probably stay awake longer than was good for her. He told himself he would return the favor later.

Later. He could only hope that there would be a later. Sleeping had seemed to help the pain, but not much. Abstract's supplies had contained little as far as medicine; she had probably assumed that sponsors would be able to send her any medicine that she needed. Maybe that was how she had died, too.

Sterling shook the thought from his head. He couldn't keep thinking like that. Couldn't keep imagining that the Capitol and the Gamemakers were out to get them. They had been after Zione and Kiona. Now that they were away from them, he and Brie were safe.

As safe as they could be.

President Richmond Hyde

"So how upset are the sponsors?" Hyde asked with a smile.

Helius looked up, grinning. "Not as mad as Vester. The poor fellow barged in here wanting my head, yelling something about how she'd been his chance to redeem himself." He shook his head. "He'd had quite a bit to drink, no doubt. He'll be fine; he's used to losing tributes by now. And I told him I'd put it on the list."

"The list?"

Helius nodded. "Right under, 'Capitol citizens can't volunteer,' 'No pointy combs for tokens,' and, 'Tributes can't use the sponsor system to send messages to each other.'" He shrugged. "The Games are a work in progress. Every year, we try new things. Some of them stick. Some don't. We learn. They learn. The Games change and grow. That's why they'll last."

Hyde smiled a little. It was easy to forget, sometimes, just how intelligent Helius really was. "So how did you know?"

Helius cocked an eyebrow. "How did I know what?"

"Which syringe Zione would choose? It worked out so perfectly, you had to have known."

Helius shook his head. "I didn't know. There were two scenarios. That was one."

"What was the other?"

Helius shrugged. "Think it through. Suppose he chose the one that contained medicine. What do they do with the other? They give it to Sterling. He dies, and Brie is furious – maybe at us, maybe at them. Zione and Kiona are worried that she blames them. She's worried that she's next. Maybe she strikes first – maybe they do. Doesn't really matter; she doesn't stand a chance against them. Come nighttime, they see the faces in the sky, realize Harakuise is still alive, and finish him off."

"Leaving one of them to take the crown," Hyde concluded. This scenario didn't sound good at all.

Helius shook his head. "You're forgetting Ella. She was my insurance. Imagine it – an epic finale with the brother and sister on one hand, Ella and her forest on the other. The audience would eat it up. And, of course, with our help, Ella would come out on top. And why not? She's got an army of trees! Everyone wishes they had an army of trees!"

Hyde smirked. "I don't. But as long as you're convinced the audience would have been satisfied."

"Oh, they would have been more than satisfied," Helius assured him. "They already are. Every child in the Capitol is probably waving their arms around like mad every time they see a tree, hoping it will move for them. The idea that ordinary people can become extraordinary – they love that. Because most people are ordinary."

Hyde nodded. "And what happens to your extraordinary girl and her army of trees now?"

Helius shrugged. "That's up to her and the other tributes now; I'm done helping her. I occasionally choose which tributes don't make it out of the arena, but I try my best not to hand-pick which ones do. I find it's best if some element of chance, of choice – of free will, perhaps – is still present. The illusion of randomness isn't really enough; there have to be some things that still depend on the tributes themselves. Any of these four would make an excellent victor. Don't you agree?"

Hyde studied Helius for a moment. There had been more to that question, of course. He was asking for Hyde's approval – making sure there was no one else the president wanted him to eliminate from the pool of potential victors. But none of them would pose a threat to him. The young father who wanted to return to his daughter. The heroic volunteer who wanted to clear her brother's name. The Capitol-supporting ruthless manipulator who wanted to carry on his father's legacy. And the ordinary girl who wanted … well, who knew what she wanted now, but she certainly wasn't a threat. Hyde shook his head. "They're all excellent," he agreed. "Carry on, Helius. Good work."

Helius nodded. "Thank you, Mr. President."

"And, Helius?"

"Mmm-hmm?" Helius looked up again.

Hyde smiled a little before turning to go. "Offer the sponsors a refund."

"We come now to the very brink, where hope and despair are akin. To waver is to fall."