Black-hulled ships, almost a hundred of them, crowded the banks of the Pan River.

They had arrived nearly a month earlier, bearing within them the joyous faces of the Trojans, their journey of almost one hundred years since the fall of Troy finally done.

Approximately a thousand of the Trojans, headed by Glimmer, had elected to remain at the original settlement that Peeta had somewhat jokingly named Delltos, and which was now firmly fixed as the developing town's name.

It was a good site, and in the weeks that they'd spent awaiting word from Peeta, many of the Trojans had decided that Delltos would be an excellent place to live and raise their children. They'd grown to good terms with the small villages dotted along the Dart River, helped in no small degree with the acquaintance, and then deep friendship, with the three Mothers who'd resided within the Trojan camp as "hostages."

Peeta was not unhappy about the decision, even if Glimmer spearheaded it. It was a pleasant site indeed and having another Trojan settlement within Panem would certainly be no bad thing. It was good to keep Glimmer away. He did not want to tempt further animosity between her and Katniss, let alone Clove.

Plus, one thousand less people to fit into the area surrounding Panbank was a relief.

An influx of eleven thousand people into any area was bound to cause problems; the fact that these eleven thousand were foreigners merely deepened the problems. Peeta was keenly aware of the need not to alienate the people of Panbank in the first instance, and the wider population of Panem in the second instance, and so he took several measures to ensure the influx of Trojans was as painless as possible.

It helped that the majority of the Trojans themselves were acutely aware of the need not to estrange Panem's people. Many of the spoils of Niuva – the gold and jewels, and the silks and linens that had survived the sea journey – were now exchanged with the natives in thanks for the tracts of land that stretched east from Panbank, where the Trojans would make temporary settlement until New Troy was built north of the river. None of the Trojans intruded upon Panbank unless they were asked, and they took care not to trample the meadowlands where grazed Panbank's flocks of sheep and goats, and where roamed their pigs and cattle.

If the Trojans needed meat or grain, then they paid for it. If they wanted company and conversation, then they invited families of Panem into their temporary shelters and were grateful when and if they themselves were invited into one of Panbank's houses in order to share warmth, food, and companionship. Most of the Trojans had taken the trouble to have, at the very least, a rudimentary understanding of Panem's language, and the people of Panbank returned the favor by acquiring words of the Greek that the Trojans spoke.

Within weeks the conversations between the Trojans and those of Panbank were a chattering mixture of Greek and the native language.

Soon, both peoples were exchanging ideas along with tales of adventures and gods. The Trojans, back in Niuva, had used a plow that the Panem people thought would work well in the soils about the Pan river; on their part, the Panem people shared their local knowledge of fishing and hunting to aid the Trojans in their search for meat.

No one, however, hunted in the sacred forests north of the Pan.

It was Chaff's forest; Brutus and (once) Twill's domain. Too sacred to touch, and that was respected.

Peeta gave the Trojans one week in which to unpack their ships and to erect suitable shelters against the oncoming winter (which were chilly and damp, so the Panem people told their new neighbors, but not as frigid as the winters in the north of the island), then he set the men to work on the foundations of the walls of New Troy.

They needed to work quickly – not only due to his own impatience but to all the quicker hold the power that would free him from any chains. Then he could protect Katniss and give her immunity to said chains. Furthermore, Clove had told him that the best time to do the first dance, and to work the first enchantment, would be the winter solstice, and that was only two months' distant.

By then, the foundations needed to be complete and the gate marked out.

So, the Trojans set to work. The walls were to be huge – the height of five men, and half as thick at its base. That meant the foundations had to be dug at least the height of a man into the ground, and preferably the height of one and a half men. The ground was generally easy to dig – beneath the surface soil and loam lay well-packed gravel whose discovery made Peeta exultant. It seemed this land was made for the support of walls.

In most areas the foundations of flint packed into clay could be laid down directly, but in those few parts where the ground was soft and waterlogged the builders would need to drive in wooden piles for extra support. The waterways would be diverted via stone culverts under the walls in the north, and then under a low stone gateway where it emerged into the Pan river.

All in all, to Peeta's delight, there would be few problems apart from time — and that could be defeated with good planning and willing backs.

On the southern bank of the Pan, watching the activity across the river, Katniss stood, her expression grave. The site surrounding New Troy's destination swarmed with men – digging, carting, excavating.

She watched them tear up the grass and the soil, as if they were personally ripping out the roots of Panem's past gods. It was as if with each thud of the shovel, the men were digging the grave for Seeder and Chaff.

She shuddered in dread, drawing her cloak tightly about her.

"Katniss," said a voice. "How pleasant to see you here."

Katniss jumped, swiveling about.

Clove walked to her side and looked across the river. "All goes well, does it not? Peeta assures me we will be ready for the first dance by the night of the winter solstice." She turned slightly, so she could see Katniss out of the corner of her eye. "You only have a few weeks, Katniss. Only a few."

"A few weeks?"

"Surely Peeta has told you about the way of this, and his and my role in it?"

Katniss rose an eyebrow. "Don't you recall?" she replied. "You told me I must know none of it."

Inside her head, she heard Darius' warm voice; sex and love are a part of it. Despite herself color flashed into her face, and mottled down her neck, mostly due to anger than any true embarrassment at what Clove implied.

"Why don't you tell me now?" Katniss said. "What do you mean, 'a few weeks'?"

Clove sighed breezily, and that only served to make Katniss angrier. "The couple's godwell requires me as the female counterpart and Peeta, the male, to unite as one in order to ensure the success of the well. It will ensure a stronger weave and power. You do know what I mean, don't you, my dear?"

Katniss stared coldly on at her.

"I'm sure you've been worried that Peeta and I have become lovers," Clove said. "But we have not." Then Clove grinned and bent closer, as if they were sisters, and whispered, "Not yet." Her eye glimmered with pleasure as Katniss grew only stiffer and more upset, before straightening and continuing: "We're waiting only for the first dance, mortal girl, then Peeta and I will be far more 'married' than you and he ever were. Wedded together in such power you will become nothing more than an irritating insignificance. If I were you, I'd allow Peeta as much use of your body as he can tolerate between now and the winter solstice. I doubt he'll make much use of you after it."

Then she reached out a hand and put her palm against Katniss' cold, flushed cheek, giving it a mocking pat.

"Poor girl. You've never been able keep Peeta occupied in any meaningful way. You've had a pair of legs that can be parted, you've a body that can be penetrated, but you're not much else, are you?"

Katniss drew in one long, deep breath, then with all the strength she had, she hit Clove across the cheek.

Staggered by the unexpected physical strength, Clove nonetheless remained standing, and her eyes flared, but she made no move to retaliate… at least, not physically.

"You've nothing to make Peeta love you for long," she said, her voice now as cold as the frosty air about them. "Nothing. Mortal girl."

"You've got a big mouth," Katniss said through her teeth.

"I'm just telling you the truth he hides from you."

For a moment Katniss looked infinitely amused, as though she'd break into laughter.

Oh, if only she knew, Katniss thought, but said, in a calm voice, "You're right. I'm just the wife."

"I am right," Clove said. "You're the wife and I'm the queen. I'm glad you see that. You're the power source, the tool. You're the little breeder where he gets his litter. But I'm his immortal partner."

Oh, all the lines she sets. Katniss gave a jerk of his chin to show she understood.

Satisfied, Clove turned to leave, walking a good distance away.

At Clove's back, Katniss called out, her words a white cloud in the air, "But it's me he loves!"

Cecelia looked up, startled by Katniss' sudden entrance into her house.

She had been expecting the girl, but not this early… and not in this state.

"Katniss?" she said, rising from her bench by the hearth. "What is wrong?"

"Forgive me my entrance," Katniss said, paused, then shot a dark look to the far side of the house where the shadows clung to a figure seated there. "Stop hiding in the corner, Brutus," she said.

Cecelia shot a significant look at Brutus, who made a fuss of standing and crossing his arms, stepping into the light that came from both the fire in the hearth and the morning sun outside. "Well?"

"I've just had the pleasure of talking with Clove," Katniss said, her voice deep with irritation.

"Undoubtedly, a treat," Cecelia said. "You look like you've got something to say."

"She told me that the ceremony will begin on the night of the winter solstice –" Katniss sat on a stool beside Cecelia "– and that is not very far away."

"It is not," Cecelia agreed.

"And still you do not wish to aid us against Clove? If we kill her before the ceremony, then it's still not too late. We won't harm your precious Trojan prince," Brutus said.

Several times in the last month Brutus had approached her and asked her if she would aid him and Cecelia and their allies against Clove, but every time she had refused. This time was no different from the others.

"Peeta has a plan to get rid of her," she told him, as she has before. "After the godwell is finished."

Katniss had resigned herself to Peeta's plan. She could not stop him, or pull him off this path he followed, so she decided that when or if he offered her Clove's place beside him, then she'd take it. It was, in truth, when she thought their paths merged.

To join Brutus and the others now would only serve to alienate Peeta. She saw no true threat or danger in them even it they were the only group that opposed Clove and Peeta. Her continued friendship with them was twofold: one, because they knew things about her that even Peeta did not, and two, to ensure they did not become a viable threat.

So far, she'd seen nothing more than Brutus brooding, and heard nothing but his asking for her help.

Cecelia sighed and took Katniss' hand, but spoke to Brutus, "We cannot force her to help us."

"Everything will work out," Katniss told them, hoping she was right.

"How do you know it'll work out?"

"I just do. Trust me. Seeder did, once."

"I trust you, Katniss," Cecelia said, squeezing the hand she still held. "Just not Clove."

"I... I actually was wanting to try something," Katniss started, then trailed off.

"Try something?" Brutus took interest. "Something... against Clove?"

Katniss nearly rolled her eyes. "No. Something to do with Seeder's pond."

Brutus face stilled, and if he had not put on a mask, Katniss knew she would have seen pain in his brutish eyes. "The pond Twill died in?" he asked.

"Cinna told me once that water was the mirror between worlds. I think... well I thought... perhaps I could use it to take me to Seeder's realm. I'm not sure how it'd work, or even if it would, but it's worth trying, I think. Will you accompany me?"

Cecelia smiled and nodded. "I can ask Enobaria and Mags –"

"Just you is fine," Katniss told her. Then she looked over at Brutus. "You can come, if you want."

Brutus made a face, stood, and exited the house.

"A no, then," Katniss said, not too put out. To Cecelia she said, "Tonight?"

Cecelia gave her hand one last squeeze before dropping it. "Beneath the stars."

"Do you think he forgot about us?" Prim asked and I tried not to wince.

"No, he couldn't have. Maybe he was called away."

"Another recruit maybe?"

"Maybe."

"I thought it was really important for me to finish my training, to get my godwell going?"

"It is," I said. "But we must assume whatever it is that keeps Darius away, it is more important."

Despite my constant reassurances to Prim, I was desperate for any piece of information I could get in concerns of Darius.

It had been an entire month since the day he had disappeared.

Everyday Prim and I would go to the ash tree in the meadow. We'd sit for hours, waiting for some sign of him, but we have had not so much as a word.

We were weeks way from Clove's plan. I was worried about what would happen and if I was right to trust Peeta. I felt powerless, despite being Chaff's so-called replacement. I had no idea how to make a power source and no one to tell me how. I had no way of knowing who Seeder's replacement was, and as surely as Seeder had disappeared from my life, so did my dreams of the stone hall. I was still immune to fire, but what use was that? All I wanted was to cling onto Seeder, even if there were no pieces left.

This was the desperation that drove me to ask Cecelia back to Seeder's pond, despite the memories there. If Darius was dead, then I needed to act. I did not want to stay under that tree waiting for him to return for the rest of my life.

So many times, Clove had called me 'mortal girl'. Sometimes it made me want to laugh. I was still mortal and while I had power now that does not instantly make me a god. I could not transport myself between realms, nor over distance. I could not hear thoughts or communicate mine to another. All about me Clove and Peeta planned their godwell, brimming with their power. Prim showed me her half-finished dance, growing more and more practiced at it as the days passed, and there I sat, useless.

As I stood over Seeder's pond, waiting for Cecelia to arrive, I recalled that day I'd climbed Chaff's Hill and Peeta had put his arm about my waist and explained his plans. He joked of children. He pressed his warm lips into my neck and promised me palaces, and I wanted to melt into his hands and believe him, because the view from the top was exactly the view from the stone hall in my dreams.

I wondered at that, and wondered at how I loved the hall, even if it was a place of murder now.

If anything, I wanted to reach it, to touch it, to know it was real. Perhaps find a piece of Darius there.

So that evening, while Peeta was still occupied at the building site (and no doubt enduring the night with Clove), and Achates suckled contentedly at Prim's breast, I disappeared into the night.

It was not long after I arrived at the pond, a stirring in the grass foretold someone's coming. I turned, expecting Cecelia, and was surprised to see Brutus – and Cinna! – walking toward me. Cinna smiled warmly.

"Katniss," he greeted, and I hugged him, then sent Brutus a wary glance.

"I thought you wouldn't come," I said.

Brutus shrugged. "I didn't want to miss anything."

"It may not work," I reminded him.

"Not with that attitude," Cecelia called from the path.

When she reached us, she greeted her son with a kiss on the cheek, then a touch of Brutus' shoulder, before she stepped up to me. "Do you want to go in alone? Or should I disrobe and accompany you?"

"No need to join me." I remembered the last time someone had. "Just..."

"Wait at the shore," Cecelia finished for me, smiling. "I can do that."

As I had once before, I stood naked at the edge of the pond for a deliberative moment. I tried to summon the Seeder in me – though it was gone – and so, sighing, I waded into the waters.

The pond was freezing cold, no longer warm, and I wrapped my arms about my stomach as the reality of that sunk in. Without Seeder, the land grows colder and hard. Without her, the sacredness fades.

"Katniss?" Cecelia asked in concern, the longer I stood there and shivered.

I drew in a deep breath. "I'm fine," I told her. "Wait."

I allowed my body to relax and dropped my arms to my sides, fingertips trailing over the surface of the water, and hoped for all of the answers.

"Alright, this is done," Cinna suddenly said. "You're going to catch your death in there, Katniss."

"No," I said, fiercely. "A while longer."

"You've been in there for hours. It's nearly moon-high. Get out of the water, Katniss."

Cecelia made no move to stop her son as he waded out into the pond and grabbed at me. Brutus himself looked equally tired of waiting for something to happen. Had it really been that long? Admittedly, I couldn't feel anything below the waist any more, and my hands were stiff and aching.

Cinna, as gentle as ever, led me out of the water. I stumbled on the grass, my legs complaining under the weight of my body as I dressed, and Brutus dutifully flanked me. In the light of the moon, it occurred to me just how large of a man Brutus was; larger than Peeta, to be sure, but not anywhere near as tall as Asterion.

Our group made the way back toward Panbank, slowly and in silence, with the disappointment of my attempt hanging over us. I kept feeling that helplessness. I kept obsessing over the lack of Seeder in me as we walked, not paying attention to our surroundings. A sharp pins and needles sensation spread through my legs. I began to lose all aspect of grace and balance.

Brutus, growing tired of my back and forth stumble from his shoulder to Cinna's, picked me up.

"Put me down!" was my initial reaction, but Brutus just grunted at me. He carried me all the way to the ford in the river and continued to do so even as we crossed through the water. It occurred to me that it was probably a habit of his, having carried Twill for most of her life. That thought roused sad questions. Had he helped raise her? Was he lonely without her?

Slowly but surely the fire in my legs died and when I said to be put down again, he did as I asked without any struggle.

We were nearly in Panbank. There was the usual noise of life and family spilling from the nearby houses, and the glow of the Trojan settlements in the distance, and not too far down the road I could see a group of seven men heading into town.

At a glance I assumed they were farmers, or herders, coming home to see their Mothers. Then it occurred to me that they were heading from the road that led into the wild tribal lands. I could not say with any certainty whether they were Panem-born or Trojan. The man heading their group carried only one torch and in the faint light it cast, with my distance, it was not enough for me to make out their faces.

I dismissed them.

It was Brutus who stopped, straightening, and eyed the group suspiciously. The rest of us continued on without him for a time, until I sighed and turned back.

I paused to show concern, though it was minimal. All I really wanted was to get home and forget my failure and tuck myself in with Achates. "What is it?" I asked.

He pursed his lips. "Look at them. That's not normal."

I examined the group as he asked. After being with Peeta's fleet for so long and seeing as much battle as I had in that time, I recognized what Brutus had: too much tension. The cluster of men were too orderly for them to be a couple of farmers or herders returning safely home.

I squinted. "Look," I said, relaxing, and pointing at the man in the lead. "He's Trojan. One of Peeta's men, no doubt. Perhaps they caught tribal savages. Peeta had guards posted along the road a few weeks ago."

"I suppose," Brutus said, and after eying the group for a few more moments, he nodded. "Alright." He turned to rejoin Cinna and Cecelia. "Let's go."

That's when I heard one of the 'tribal savages' speak.

"Where are you taking us?"

I froze mid-step.

I misheard. I had to have misheard.

I stayed in that spot, my back to the group. If Peeta's men had captured hostiles, then it was to Peeta that they would take the prisoners, so it was safe to assume that they'd walk right passed us.

I strained to hear them speak again.

Cinna opened his mouth to question me and I shot him a silencing look. I grabbed him by the arm and pulled him close to me. I motioned to the others to come closer as well. Though they were confused, they formed a hasty circle that I hoped would not draw the men's attention too sharply.

"To our king," was the leading Trojan's response. "He'll have a lot of questions for you."

My hand was still resting on Cinna's forearm and the longer I waited for the group to say something else, the tenser I grew, and the more my fingernails bit into his skin. I think Cecelia sensed a little of what I was doing, and she began to murmur softly with Brutus over nonessential things: the tide of the river, the harvest, the dinner she had made earlier.

The group of men were close now. I had been right to assume their direction. They turned down the street that would bring them by us and straight through Panbank.

Speak, I willed. Just one word.

There was only silence, save for Cecelia and Brutus and the crickets on the riverbank.

The men were walking beside our group. The torch light shined behind my back. Cinna's eye moved and focused over my head. On a split decision, I turned to look myself. I saw exactly what I feared to, and he saw me, too.

"Katniss?"

Our eyes met and held, and I felt as though I'd been knocked breathless.

Rory looked more or less the same as when I'd last seen him. Dorian Greek to his core, he had the olive-toned skin, the gray eyes, the straight black hair (though ruffled in that Rory Hawthorne way of his); we could have been siblings or, even if someone was dim enough to miss that, they'd at least have to see we were country-men to each other. I was certain beyond any ounce of doubt that the Trojan guards leading them had no idea what treasures they'd found. Else, they would have killed them on the spot.

I did not recognize any of the four additional Dorian Greeks within the group. Gale was certainly not among them. All of them were bound with rope, unarmed, and staring at me as I stared at them.

My once-over of Rory had taken less than a second and no more than three seconds had gone by since I had turned around. I knew I had to do something. I knew because that was Rory – Prim's love of her life – and even if he had the workings of a beard showing, and he looked a little more hardened since the days we lived in a palace together, he was no more than seventeen.

I straightened immediately, drew in a breath and thought fiercely: be the queen, not the wife.

"What do you think you're doing?" I asked the Trojan holding the torch. There was enough anger in my voice to cause him to rebuke a little and then lean in close to look me over.

"I'm escorting this group of prisoners to Peeta."

"Prisoners?" I said, taking offense. "These are my men!"

"Your...?"

"Yes, that's what I said. Are you hard of hearing? My men. I demand you untie them at once."

The lead Trojan exchanged a doubtful, almost amused look with the two other guards. He shifted on his feet to draw himself to full height. There was that usual scorn in his eyes Trojans regarded me with. "Now, look here –"

"Is that how you address a princess of Troy?" I snapped, putting as much of Clove's haughtiness into my eyes as I could as I overlooked him. "What's your name, solider? I think Peeta will want to know it once I tell him of your blatant disrespect tonight and your refusal to follow your queen's orders."

He seemed completely surprised now, where before he'd just looked like he wanted to smirk at me.

"It's Seneca, my princess."

Ah, that's better. He might not fear me, but he did have regard for Peeta. If I could just play that out in all the right ways, I might be able to wrestle Rory and the Greeks free – and keep these Trojans quiet.

I did not dare look toward Rory, to see if he'd play his part. Let alone the four other men accompanying him, for fear I'd lose the act. I kept my glare firmly on the Trojans.

"Seneca?" I repeated. "I do hope that wasn't your father's name, because you shame it now."

"My princess," said one of the flanking guards, stepping forward. In the light I saw that he was not one of Peeta's men, but he was Finnick's. He would not know Rory for his name. Better yet, he looked as though he did hold respect for me. Perhaps that was because he knew me from the ships, where I had become Peeta's companion, rather than the spoils of Niuva, a woman raped and taken. That was much easier to rise up from and into the mold of a queen.

I nodded to him, in permission to speak.

He gestured to Rory and the Dorians. "We found these men sneaking around Chaff's forest, near the road. By the looks of it, they were scouting, my princess. Why would your men be doing that?"

"I've been expecting them," I said, finally allowing my eyes to fall on Rory's. He was confused, but he appeared composed. "They were due to be here with the rest of the Trojans coming from Delltos weeks ago–"

"I had not thought any Dorian men were spared," Seneca cut in.

I fixed him with a hard stare. "And do you know all, Seneca? Are you a part of Peeta's group of advisers and it is just that I have not seen you there before? Do you bed down with everybody in the fleet's midst? Did you shake every hand of those living at Delltos? Are you even a captain among guards?"

Seneca sneered, then merely lowered his head.

"I thought not," I said, turning from him again and looking to Finnick's man. "These are my men, the few I have. If you found them scouting, then it is merely that they were lost. They know as little of this land as you Trojans. Was it an autumn storm?" I said to Rory. "Were your ships separated from the others? You must have been pushed very far north, traveling all the way back here on land!"

Waiting for Rory to reply dragged on forever… and he never mustered one. A man to his left spoke, "It is true, my princess." He was quite old, elderly almost, with silver in his hair and the look of leadership about him.

"Aye," murmured another of them. "Our ships were thrown by the sea and dashed against white cliffs far north of here. Many died... leaving the five of us. We have traveled long to get back to you."

"Through tribal lands?" marveled a guard. "Alive?"

"We managed to travel through the wild lands north of here unconfronted by tribes, but the walking was hard in this cold and the hunting was scarce."

"And the moment you near us, you're assaulted at the sake of these men's ignorance," I said, flicking a hand in the Trojan guards' direction. "Release them, I say, and perhaps Peeta won't know about your mistake."

Seneca hissed at the other Trojan guards who moved to do as I ordered. "Princess," he said, icily, "misunderstanding or not, it is my duty to bring these Greeks to my prince. It is from him I take my orders. If what you say is true, then he will release them. Yes? And there will be no real harm done. If what you say is not... well, I think he'll have something to say to you about your mistake, no?"

Seneca was not using Rory as an influence, so at least he did not know just exactly who he'd captured. Only that he was not buying my lie and that he'd seen, or at least heard of, black-eyed Peeta's reactions to me in the past over 'betrayals' and 'mistrusts'. Perhaps he hoped I would get a beating for this show I was putting on.

"Do you think to threaten your queen?"

He drew back slightly, holding the torch away. "I am merely speaking plainly."

Without truly making the decision, my hand came up and struck him across the face. He staggered, and everyone around me leaned back in surprise, and before he steadied, I snatched the torch from his hand and turned to the two other Trojans. "Do either of you wish to speak plainly, too?"

Neither moved.

"Good." I drew in a breath. "Release my men."

"At once, my princess."

"And give them back their weapons."

As they went about releasing Rory and the Greeks, I became aware that a few people in the surrounding houses had come to watch the spectacle we were making. I held the torch closer to me, hoping the people in the huts could not see that the men in binds were Greek.

Most of the ones in the doorways were Mothers and I turned sharply to Cecelia. "Tell them to get back in their beds."

"Katniss?" Cecelia asked.

"Tell them that this business is not to be talked of. Go now."

I did not like speaking so harshly to her, nor did I think she liked being spoken to thus, but if I dropped the facade for her then the guards would see right through it. Plus, I wanted them to believe it too – Cecelia, Brutus, and Cinna. If they thought these were really my men and these guards were really angering me by taking them as prisoners, then they might not be inclined to question it later. After all, they knew nothing about the conflicts between Greeks and Trojans, or even what life I lived among the fleet, or in the palace. Even better, I was speaking to the guards in Greek, and I doubted they picked up very much of what we said.

With apprehensive faces, Cecelia and Cinna melted away from our gathering and approached the first house. I turned, meaning to speak once more with the guards, but Brutus caught my eye. "You, too," I said.

"Me?" Brutus asked. His gaze kept moving from my face to the torch.

I realized that I'd been holding it too close; perhaps not close enough to touch, but close enough any normal person's face would be searing with the heat of the flames. I lowered it a little. "Yes."

He lumbered away, toward a different doorway than Cecelia and Cinna.

"Orders, my princess?"

Seneca had recomposed himself and stood stiffly to the side, his eyes dark with anger, but the two other Trojans were idling before me, obedient and friendly.

"Your orders are to return to your previous posts."

They dipped their heads and turned to go – Seneca included – but I felt uneasy, so before they got too far away, I called after them, "Do not think I will so easily forgive you this foolishness. A smart man will stay away. The longer and farther you stay, the faster I forget your faces. I can't tell which men Peeta is to punish if I cannot find those men. Remember that!"

Finnick's man raised his hand to show he heard but did not turn back. They kept going down the road, without their torch now, and I waited and watched them until I could not make them out. Once they were gone, I turned to Rory and let my face drop to show my real emotions: worry, shock, unease.

"What are you doing here?" I asked him. "Do you have any idea what could have happened if I hadn't come upon you? Gods, Rory! This is the very nest of Trojans and they love you none."

Before Rory or any of the other Greeks could reply, Cecelia, Cinna, and Brutus drew near again. They'd managed to get all those in the surrounding houses to leave us be, which I was grateful for.

"I don't know what's going on," Cecelia said, "but you're worrying me, Katniss."

"There's nothing to worry about. Everything is settled." I forced a smile. "Thank you for going to the pond with me earlier, but I have other things to deal with now. I would talk with my men. Alone."

She still seemed on edge, but she nodded. Cinna touched my arm in that way he does with those warm fingers and golden flecked eyes, and then followed his mother away.

Brutus was not so easily dismissed.

"You may have fooled all the others, but I am no fool, Katniss," he said, in the Panem language.

"Could have fooled me," I replied in the same language; the Greeks would not know our words.

He curled his lips. "Don't test my temper."

"Do not test mine," I snapped back. "Peeta loves you not, and –"

"Do not think your threats of him will intimidate me! To the others it might. But not me."

"Then fear me!" I snarled at him, keeping my voice low. "Remember how Seeder called my name. Remember how I escaped you that first time. Remember what you saw at the Dance."

To make sure he understood what I alluded to, I raised the torch in my hand a few inches higher, and let the light cast deep, dark, long shadows over both of our faces. His face hardened satisfyingly. We continued to stare at each other for an immeasurable amount of time, before he suddenly scuffed at me and violently brushed past me, and – to my wholehearted relief – sprinted away into the night.

My shoulders stooped forward once he was gone. I'd actually done it! I'd actually managed to lie so convincingly that I'd freed the Greeks of the guards! But the trouble was far from over. My words to Rory rang true: we were still in the middle of the viper pit. I straightened, despite my exhaustion, nodded at the Greeks to follow me, and I marched resolutely down the street.

About halfway through the town, Rory spoke up. "Where are you taking us?"

That had been what he'd first said. It had been what had caused me to recognize him. You would think after all that I had just done to free them of their chains – lie, offend my friends, make an enemy in the guard – there would be more curiosity and friendliness in his tone when he'd asked me, but no. There was wariness and distrust.

I cast a look over my shoulder to find them all looking similarly dubious of me.

"I'm taking you somewhere we can talk safely."

"In town?" he said.

I realized their fear. They thought I was taking them to Peeta anyway.

I smiled, and I saw many of them relaxed at the small action.

"No, Rory. I'm taking you through it. There is a meadow on the other side. Going back the other way would have been suspicious. Now hush, we don't want to draw attention. There will be talk soon."