"What did I miss?" President Clair asked, arriving at the table with a scowl. "And how have you managed to use up half a box of tissues?"

"Oh, Luke killed Thalia," he wiped his eyes. "He and Annabeth broke their alliance."

She stared at the screens for a second, likely trying to remember who he was talking about. "Oh, them."

"Do you still want Annabeth dead?" he asked curiously. "That's the blonde one."

"I know who Annabeth is. She hasn't done or said anything against the Capitol, has she?" At his innocent head shake, she shrugged, "Then no, I don't care what she does. She seems to be exactly like everyone else."


Calypso woke up alone. And even though that was normal, she worried about where Will had gone.

It was the anthem that had woken her, and she glanced up in time to see the girl from 5.

The first thing she did was check her stings. They were healing fine, and when she grabbed a branch and tried to stand, she found that she could without her head spinning.

Will had gotten more venom than she did, and with a sinking heart, she realized he must have stumbled off in a hallucinating daze.

But his backpack was gone, so that was a good sign.

They had wanted to break off the alliance so they could cover more ground while they searched for Leo or Nico. .Just not in a way that left no warning or chance to say goodbye.

She tried to gauge how many days had passed by how sore and hungry she was. Three, most likely. Maybe even four. She had been really tired before.

There wasn't any way to find out who had died in that time, or even if Will was alive.

She felt like she was back home in District 7, anxiously watching Odysseus and then Drake in the Games. Back then, she'd only had one idea whether or not they would come back: that they probably wouldn't.

It was like that now. About Leo, about Will, about everyone. There could be three people left for all she knew, and all she had was hope. And that made her feel alone and helpless. Hope was for those who had no other option.

Calypso shouldered her bag. No, she had options. She could stay in the forest, try out the meadows, or return to the desert. She could do anything.

She could find Leo.

• • •

"Our sponsorships are dwindling," Bryce announced, his patience wavering to the point of snapping.

"We know," Clarisse scowled. "It's pretty hard to miss that we've only been eating two meals a day."

Annoying.

Clarisse especially, but they all annoyed him. Bryce never had friends or family, and he was glad for it now. No one he spent more than a few days with could stand him, and vice versa. People were annoying in general, and nobody understood him.

Well, there was one person that he found interesting.

Bryce watched Piper braid her hair with dull fascination. The way she could comb out all the dirt and leaves to make herself presentable was honestly impressive. She saw him looking and assumed he was expecting her to talk. "Well, I think it's a sign that there's going to be a feast."

He brightened and grinned appreciatively, "Aha. That would be perfect. Now we can finally fight something besides mutts."

Clarisse grumbled, "We would be able to find people if you and Piper didn't argue so much. It really gives away our location, in case you weren't aware."

It was strange that Piper kept insisting on picking fights with him when she was the one who used to criticize him for quarrelling with Clarisse, but he chalked it up to her finally getting feisty.

Percy though, just sort of sat around not doing anything. Although the forest wasn't any of their domains, it was the least appealing to Percy.

Clarisse had started calling him Prissy, and Bryce, wanting to jump on the bandwagon of bullying someone, started calling him Pacy. It was short for both passive and pacifist.

"So we stick together for the feast," Bryce said, ignoring Clarisse's comment. His excitement was blossoming too much to be bothered by her. At last! Something exciting to satisfy his bloodlust.

Percy yawned, "Can we go to sleep now? I feel like the moon's glaring at me."

Bryce only had to ignore Pacy for a few days longer...

Because when it's the Final Eight, they'll break the alliance and hunt each other down. Surely it won't take too long.

• • •

Nico wished his sister were here. In the months she'd been hiding in District 11, he had gotten used to missing her and trusting that she was alright and coming back. This time was different because he knew she wasn't.

He'd nearly walked into the Careers again, which made sense since the forest was smaller now and other tributes were probably hiding whereas the Careers hiked around.

Nico made a point to only move at night when it was hard to get spotted. But that also limited him to walking in the cold. He hoped the exercise would keep him from getting hypothermia.

Someone was stumbling around about a hundred meters away, so loudly Nico could hear them clearly despite his permanent tiredness.

He shuffled behind a tree and tried to make out who it was.

The moon lit up the guy's curly blond hair, and Nico realized that it was Will. Deciding that he couldn't leave the other boy to die, he ventured into the open and stopped in front of him.

Will was sunburnt and had two punctures on his cheek, which had swollen disproportionately. He stared at him oddly, "Nico? Oh, wow, yep, I'm hallucinating."

Nico tried to steady him, "You're not hallucinating."

"That's what a hallucination would say."

Nico resisted from rolling his eyes and cast a wary look around them. "Can you not talk? Or be that loud?"

"Sure," he said. And then promptly collapsed.

It was hard to gauge what to do next. It was too dangerous to try to get Will up a tree. And he had stick arms and bad coordination, so that really wasn't an option at all. Dragging himself around already required too much energy.

"Will," he hissed, poking him in the head. "You need to get up. I'm weak and dying so I can't lift —"

He raised his head so fast Nico nearly jabbed him in the eye, "You're dying?"

"Um," Nico said, "yeah. I've been really cold for a while and I'm worried I'm sick. I also got stabbed on day one."

"Oh my god," he said, sitting up, "let me see."

"This isn't a good place for that," he warned.

Will tried to stand. "The forest sucks," he managed, pushing his sweaty hair back. "We should get out. I only came here to find you."

Nico stared at him in disbelief, "Seriously? Why?"

"We're a team, remember?" he managed to stay upright, though he was leaning on his shoulder. "Oh wait, I shouldn't do that. You're dying. Where were you stabbed?"

"Here," Nico pointed at the side of his back, and Will nearly fell over while craning to look at it. "I got bandages and kept it wrapped up. Listen, I made a shelter. It's basically a bunch of leaves and branches scattered over a fallen tree, but it will be very hard to see us."

"It sounds like it's really easy to see, honestly."

"Come on. The earthquakes have knocked down a lot of trees so it really isn't that conspicuous."

"So that's what those were..." he mumbled, staggering after Nico. "Earthquakes."

They were stopped in their tracks by a silver parachute. Nico blinked at it uncomprehendingly. Will seemed to have woken up completely through sheer determination, and he was the one that pointed it out, "Nico, we got sponsored."

Nico picked it up, then pulled Will along, "The shelter's really close. Just keep going." As they went, he opened the parachute and found a metallic container filled with two different ointments. He handed it to Will, "Must be for you."

He took it and sniffed both sides, "One's for infection and the other for keeping swelling down." He suddenly held it to Nico's nose, "It smells like leaves."

Nico dodged it. "You have good sponsors."

"This didn't come until I teamed up with you," he pointed out. He scooped up some of the pale green paste and smeared it on his cheek and hand. "Has anyone died in the last few days?"

"The girls from 5 and 6."

Will exhaled with relief, "So Calypso's alive."

Nico didn't answer, and eventually they reached his shelter. "Here we are," Nico surveyed the area and ushered Will inside. He rearranged some of the leaves and branches before ducking in himself.

It was a small triangular space, big enough for two people to lie down side by side. The person closest to the tree could sit up if they were short enough, and Nico definitely was.

They lay there for a long moment, getting rest. Will offered him some water, but Nico refused, telling him he'd already gotten some from sponsors earlier.

Will tried to check out his reflection in the container, but it was too dark, and he resorted to patting his cheeks incessantly. "Do I look better now?"

Nico turned to see. Will looked good enough to win all the sponsors. "Yeah," he said simply.

"Can you help me with my arm?"

"Yeah, sure." Nico adjusted himself so he could tend to him. He started untying the jacket that was binding the injury, "How long has it been infected?"

"Four days, I think. It doesn't seem too serious though."

Nico looked at it. He couldn't tell whether the statement was right or wrong. Nonetheless, it was pink and swollen around the wound, which had been loosely stitched up. "Do I just smear it on?"

Will looked at his arm, somehow not grossed out. "We don't have enough water to wash it out," he muttered. "Use the end of the jacket to clean it as much as you can. Get the other side too."

Carefully Nico followed his instructions. It felt nice to help someone else for a change, instead of letting his sister or sponsors take care of him.

After using his throwing knife to take out the infected stitches — thanks, Piper — he put on the cream and used some of his bandages to bind them.

Will convinced him to lift his shirt so he could redress the stab wound on his back and apply the medicine.

Eventually they were both done, and the two lay back down. "You're shivering," Will noted.

"Am I?" Nico couldn't tell, and raised his hands to check. Now that they weren't holding anything, it was obvious.

Will scooted closer and pressed his chest against Nico's shoulder, flinging one arm around him. "Better?"

"I guess." This was starting to make him uncomfortable, and he instinctively shifted away.

"Do you want to freeze or something?"

He suddenly had the urge to cry, and he bit it down like he'd done all week. "I don't know, maybe."

Will didn't respond for a while. Then he said, "I don't think you want to give up now that we're finally a team again."

"You're recovering from an infection and I most likely have hypothermia," Nico grumbled. "Those are hardly great odds."

"We've never had great odds, but look at us." Will nudged him, "It's the morning of day nine and we're still alive."

• • •

Piper rested her cheek on her hand, trying to get comfortable on the hard ground as she slipped in and out of sleep. It really was hard to get rest in the arena, and even worse when she had nightmares.

It was always the same. She was back at the bloodbath, weapons equipped. She would throw two knives into the boy from 11, but this time he wasn't a competing player. He was an innocent boy who, unlike her, did not sign up for this.

At least she had an excuse for Katie, but with him, it had only been murder. Piper never even learned his name.

And the dream would end as she was crowned the Victor in front of a silent and motionless crowd, the ghost of the boy's terrified brown eyes still in her mind.

One hour, she chanted to herself. I just need to get at least one more hour of rest. Then it'll be my turn to keep watch.

They were near the desert and it was raining there, but the steady shower was almost calming. She was so focused on the sound that she instantly noticed the harsh crunching of leaves.

Her eyes opened and saw Bryce bending over her. The moonlight gleamed off the knife poised above her throat.

The dagger slammed into the ground as she quickly rolled aside, missing her head but pinning her hand to the dirt.

Pain paralyzed her and she gasped in the air to scream, only to be cut off by his hand closing around her throat. It was made worse as he tried to yank the blade out, but the seconds he wasted let her mind clear, and she grabbed her own dagger and stabbed him. It was nearly a killing blow, but he'd flinched and it got his shoulder instead.

She tried kicking him, but he had placed himself out of reach. Bryce grit his teeth and twisted the knife in her hand, and her vision went dark and blurry as pain wracked her entire arm.

He knocked her other arm aside and stepped on it in his signature move. The metal spikes at the bottom meant for walking on the ice were now ripping at her skin.

But through the black spots and ringing headache, she could see his twisted smile as he raised his axe. "You put up a good fight, McLean," he whispered.

Piper wished she could speak, but her windpipe was crushed, her face going warm as she struggled futilely for breath. Wasn't Percy supposed to keep watch, too? What was he doing?

Bryce lowered the blade to tap her nose, obviously aiming. And in a last ditch effort, Piper swung her other hand and stabbed him with the knife embedded in it.

It didn't go far since the agony reflexively made her recoil, but Bryce fell and bellowed in pain at the slash across his face, and it broke through the silence like an axe through paper.

As she weakly gasped for breath, Piper heard Clarisse shoot awake and start to get her bearings. Percy was stirring.

Blood dripped past Bryce's wounded nose and eye and down his cheeks. And even though it hurt to move or breathe, Piper managed to grab a throwing knife and hurl it at his throat.

As the blade left her fingers, he lifted his hand and it sunk into his palm. "I knew you'd aim for the neck," he growled.

"LAWRENCE!" Clarisse roared, grabbing for her weapon only to find it missing. "Where the hell is my spear?! You were going to kill us?!"

"Of course not," he spat, kicking her elbow until it cracked. "It was Piper. She was about to kill you with your spear but I threw it away."

Piper tried to protest but could only let out a broken croak. It hurt to breathe and her head spun, making it hard to believe she'd even aimed that well.

Clarisse found her spear, then straightened to glare at Piper, "Are you serious? We had a deal! We're a team until the Final Eight, remember?"

Bryce smirked and wrapped up his hand with a bandage, "Exactly, McLean." He tried to flex his fingers but failed. Piper's vision cleared just enough to see his eyes flick from the knife he held to Percy for a split second.

She made a sweeping gesture. Miraculously Percy understood and leapt aside right when Bryce threw the knife. It missed him by a hair and slammed into a tree trunk.

"PIPER!" Bryce roared. He whirled to her and swung his axe down. The edge struck her chest and shattered her sternum.

Her eyes widened in shock as crimson spread through her clothes. She turned her head and coughed up blood. The pain gripped her like a vice, and she couldn't breathe...

Bryce whipped around as Clarisse attacked him and ducked under her spear, leaping out of range.

Half his face was painted with blood now, and he was clearly blind in one eye. He danced away from Clarisse again as she made a deadly jab. "MISSED ME, LA RUE!"

"COME CLOSER, YOU COWARD!" she screeched.

Run, Piper mouthed at Percy as blood dribbled past her chin. She was a goner, and if he tried to join the fight, he'd be killed by whoever won. Probably Clarisse, as Bryce was wounded and had the shorter weapon.

Percy's green eyes were sad as he stared at her. And though they had never been friends, had only known each other because they were stuck in the same death game, a sort of understanding passed between them.

He dug through her backpack, and she thought he was looking for bandages. She was about to shake her head when he came back with her blowgun. He set it in her lap and gave her a guilty look, "I'm um... really sorry I fell asleep. I guess Bryce picked me because he knew I was tired."

She managed a weak smile. It's alright.

"I would've loved to be friends," he continued. "I'll remember you, Piper." He brushed her hair out of her face, then grabbed his supplies and the rest of hers and took off.

Bryce and Clarisse were still sparring. Bryce had put his axe away for a dagger, using it to parry her blows whenever they got too close.

Normally she could, and would, shoot them both. But she was tired.

Piper weakly wrapped an arm around the blowgun, glad for the brief and painful chance to say goodbye.

And in these last moments, she understood her dad. Now she knew she was going to be free, no longer playing the Capitol's games for them.

"Dad..." her voice came out a barely audible wheeze. "It's okay. I love you."

That was the last breath she could take.

Percy would remember her. So would her dad. And maybe that was all the fame and glory she needed.