Day 6:


Weaving among the shadows, Nevaeh tiptoed near Ilithyia's sleeping figure. She was supposed to wake up Eros for their watch, but she figured he'd appreciate a few extra minutes of sleep. She'd wake him up in just a second, anyway. No harm done. She scooped up the leather pouch, careful not to rattle the marbles against each other. The purple marble she'd removed still sat in her pocket. Somewhere down the line, a duplicate had found its way into the bag.

But how? It could've easily been Ilithyia; the Two girl had the marbles with her at all times. She'd like to think that Ili wouldn't pull something like this, but considering what Nevaeh herself was doing, she couldn't be too critical.

Adair? He'd noticed her right before she swapped in the red marble for the purple one; he didn't seem surprised. Was that grounds for suspicion? Likely not, especially considering how he was the least close to Ili out of the whole group—when would he have a chance? Even stranger, why would he want District Two to be his judge?

That left Eros, as Ven and Sos wouldn't do something like this; she was sure of it. The Twos were close; he could ask for it at any time and Ilithyia wouldn't suspect a thing. Combined with his accusation, he had a strong motive to set the judge to be the most sympathetic one to his case. If it'd been him, he'd succeeded. With Inner Districts taking all three positions, Adair would be done for; she was surprised the boy didn't straight-up leave. All she could do was sit back and watch.

She slipped out the front door into the night, out of sight of the room. Gingerly, she tipped the pouch, spilling the marbles onto her hand one by one. One orange, for herself. One pink, for Eros. One gold, for Ven. The last two were Sos' red, just as she'd left them. Furrowing her brow, she rolled them back, slipping in the purple one from her pocket along with the others while removing the red one to restore it to its original state.

Ilithyia had shown the purple marble to the room; there'd been no room for doubt. Perhaps the Two girl was craftier than Nevaeh had given her credit for. This was all a show, after all. The cheery demeanor could just be a persona for the cameras.

She'd been about ready to return the bag when she noticed Sos halfway out the doorway, watching her.

"You did it again." His voice was flat. She didn't know what she'd expected; it certainly hadn't been that.

"Well—yes, but only because I had to," she whispered back. "But it didn't work, so it doesn't matter."

He sighed. "That's not the point."

"It's for our good," she said. "You and me."

"You gotta stop."

"Sos, listen to me—"

"It's gonna blow up in your face."

"Why are you awake, anyway? And you shouldn't be walking; it'll hurt your wound."

"Can't sleep," he said. "I've been sitting all day. A man's gotta get some movement in."

"Does it hurt?"

He shook his head. "Just thinking about Iggy."

She pressed her lips together. Of course he was. Was it wrong to scold a sick friend? She wasn't sure, but she'd feel bad if she told him off for this. "Look. I know you really didn't want her to get hurt, but—"

"You don't need to tell me again." He gave her a look. "I know. It doesn't make me feel better."

What did he expect her to do? All she could do was tell him that it was inevitable, that it had to be done, that it wasn't worth his worrying. Everything he said he already knew. Evidently he didn't know it that well if these things still kept him up at night.

With a grunt, Sos settled down in a seat by the entrance. He looked at her. "Do you think about me like that too?"

"Like what?"

"That I'll just have to die. That it's inevitable for me to go."

"¿En serio? I would never."

His steady gaze didn't waver. "Where's the difference?"

"You're family."

"And only one of us will live. And you want it to be you."

"Well, yes—But I just don't think about that, since the odds of it being us two left is tiny," she said, shifting uncomfortably. "I have to go wake Eros for watch. Go back to sleep."

His eyes lingered on him for a moment longer, but then he disappeared back inside, leaving her alone with wind and stars. She stared at the sky, covered with clouds more than ever. Maybe the acid rain would come again soon; at least they'd all know to avoid it this time. She wandered back in and nudged Eros with the tip of her boot. He woke up, immediately sneering at her once he recognized her. She wasn't sure if curses existed, but she wished one on him anyway. Her eyes wandered all over the room, everywhere except Sos' corner, where she'd be forced to recall the uncomfortable question he'd lobbed at her.

Better to focus on how Eros was a menace. How losing Adair would be disastrous for her and Sos. How someone else had been messing with the marbles as well. These were easy. Easier, at least, than some others.


The basement of the tower had been pitch black ever since the sun set, taking with it the only rays of light that had dared to poke their way down here. Halfway up the stairs, Virginia poked her head out of the basement, only to be met by more darkness, save for the squares of moonlight streaming through the open windows.

"Is it safe?" Ellis whispered, waiting in the basement.

"It's too dark," she whispered back. "I can't see."

He climbed up beside her. "If only we had a flashlight…"

"Then anyone nearby would know our location," she said. "Do you think anyone's nearby?"

"The Star Alliance has their base about two blocks down, in the courthouse."

"The courthouse?"

"Yeah. I'm gonna go look around."

She grabbed his arm on instinct, like she would if one of her younger sisters were about to do something stupid. "No way."

"I'll be careful."

This was about Iggy, wasn't it. Virginia knew the Eleven girl's name now. Ellis had told her all about his little ally, that they'd gotten separated, that he suspected there might be clues in the Career base. How she had offered him candy when she'd found him during the acid rainstorm. How he'd failed her and it was his fault she got captured in the first place.

"I… I just don't think it's a good idea. There are six of them. All trained killers."

He sighed. "I know. But I have to find her."

"What if she's dead?" she said, voice wavering. "I don't think it's worth the trip."

"What if they have her tied up in there? I can't abandon her."

She hadn't told him. He still didn't know. Neither of the two had dared to emerge from the basement long after the sun had set; when the Panemian anthem played, Ellis had barely made it up the stairs before the Fallen broadcast ended and he returned dejected.

She should've told him. He deserved to know. It would've been the right thing to do; it was cruel of her to hide this from him, to take advantage of his ignorance. Perhaps she would've told him if he'd yelled at her and told her to go away. It would've been more bearable to tell him and immediately leave.

But he had hugged her. He'd asked her to stay, even after she killed his ally, and there was nothing she wanted more than to stick with him, the way she should've done from the start. Would he have done the same if he'd known the truth? That the Five boy wasn't the only blood on her hands? The thought of him leaving her behind now was unbearable; it was easier to suffocate in the smoke of her own sins.

Of course, she didn't deserve his kindness in the first place, so the entire argument was baseless anyway. He still deserved to know.

She sucked in a deep breath, shifting her weight uncertainly. "She's not there, Ellis."

"You don't know that."

"B-But… But I do."

"How?" He turned towards her. The shadows hid the millions of emotions that must've crossed his face as a low gasp escaped his mouth. When he spoke again, it was as dead as the desert around them. "She's dead. And you knew."

She bowed her head. "I did."

"No, no, no…" he mumbled, stepping back into the darkness below, away from her.

"It's true."

"Did you kill her?"

"No! But I was there. She asked us for water. I was about to give her some, but then…" The blood. The screaming. Her hand shook. "She killed her. I tried to stop her. A little. But she was screaming for my help and I just stood there and—"

"Who's she?"

She blinked rapidly. "Clarke. But I should've done something. I could've saved her and I didn't."

His breath was shaky. She could feel the cold distance; he had backed away. As he should. As she deserved.

"Why didn't you tell me?"

She could feel his eyes though the veil of darkness. She sank down onto the stairs. "I… don't know. I have no excuse."

If only he would speak. She had no right to ask anything from him, but his silence left her in limbo. He was probably mad. He had every right to be.

"I'll leave in the morning. You won't have to deal with me anymore." She sighed. A tear slipped down her face. "I… I just needed to tell you that I'm really, really sorry. For everything. You were always so nice, and I rejected it. Now it's too late."

She huddled in the corner between the wall and the stairs; she pulled her limbs in, as it became clear that Ellis wouldn't reply. Part of her had hoped for him to respond. Even if he yelled at her, it would've been right, because she deserved that and more.

She supposed she deserved this too. Even for him, she was beyond mercy.


When Ven woke up for his watch, the final watch for the night, he found Adair standing over him. He rose immediately; he grabbed his sword and stepped to the side, near the door to the hall. If the Seven boy wanted to take out the group while they were on watch together, Ven knew he'd be the first to go. He'd like to think whatever goodness remained in Adair's heart would keep him from trying to kill them all in one go right now, but knowing the way the guy acted, he couldn't be sure.

He shouldn't have agreed to defend Adair. In the moment, Nevaeh and Eros had been arguing and it'd seemed like the quickest way to shut them up, to keep the peace for just a longer though every passing day made it clearer that it wouldn't last. He'd have to stand up and talk and try to persuade Ili that Adair was innocent, hardly an easy task with Eros' snake-like influence in her ear.

He sighed. Alas, he'd signed up for this, and he wasn't about to stoop to Eros' level and pull a joke defense.

"Hey," he whispered, beckoning Adair with his hand. Though Seven raised an eyebrow, he thankfully didn't seem like he was trying to kill him. "Can we talk?"

" 'Bout what?" Adair said, a wary smile on his face.

The two moved into the hallway. "If I'm gonna defend you, I need to know what happened. Show me how it went down."

"Here's what happened." Darkness covered Adair's face, but Ven swore the boy's voice had shifted. "I was doing my part on watch when I found the Four boy stealing our water."

"Let's keep things real, okay?"

"Are you calling me a liar?"

Ven gulped. Some people had such an air about them. But this was no time to back down to anyone's tactics. Hopefully, he wasn't being too rude. "Yes. I don't trust you any more than you trust me."

"You think I don't trust you?"

"I think you're smarter than that," Ven said. "We both know the game we're in. But I said I'd defend you, so I'm going to do my best."

"That's…" The boy's voice had softened. "That's very nice of you."

"You tell me the truth and nothing but the truth, and I'll do my best in court. Deal?"

"Deal."

"Great." Ven smiled; he gave Adair a friendly pat on the back. The boy could still be lying for all he knew, but that didn't mean Ven had to treat him any different. "Start from the beginning. Where were you when it happened?"


Ellis hadn't realized he'd fallen asleep until he opened his eyes and found light, the little bit of morning sunshine that spilled around the bottom of the stairs, leaving the rest of the room in stifling darkness. Virginia sat at the base of the stairs, pulling things out of her bag. Thick in the fading haze of sleep, he smiled, simply glad to not be alone, like he'd been ever since he and Iggy had been separated.

Then everything came back to him. Iggy was dead.

He slumped against the wall. His arms were lifeless metal rods, too heavy to lift. He closed his eyes as if it'd pull him out of reality and into the comfort of sleep. Though a small voice whispered that he had to stay positive, that there had to be some kind of silver lining somewhere, his mind felt as clouded as the darkness that perpetually lived down here.

Iggy hadn't been with the Star Alliance. Or she had, but it couldn't have been for long if Virginia and Clarke found her elsewhere. He'd wasted his past two days sneaking around this dilapidated concrete tower while she'd been out there in the town, searching for him. All because he'd made the terrible decision to enter the mansion. She'd trusted him with her life, and this was how it'd turned out? After she'd been the one to save him in the first place!

He opened his eyes. No use. Everyone he'd touched had died, of no thought of their own. Was Virginia next? Even she didn't deserve it.

She rose and swung her backpack over her shoulder; her eyes were on him. He couldn't meet her gaze. She'd killed Kiran. She'd let Iggy die. She wasn't a terrible person; he knew that. But what was he supposed to think of her when she'd had part in killing every other person in here he'd dared to care for? Just the thought of Iggy screaming for mercy bled black and red over his vision.

Yet in that moment, when he'd hugged her, he hadn't been able to let go, as her tears soaked his shoulder and his own tears ran down into her hair. A sudden warmth had sprung up inside; it'd been relief though she'd been the one to kill his ally. He hadn't known her role in Iggy's death, but it'd felt… right.

His eyes wandered instead over the items by her feet. It was easier. "What're those?"

"Some food. A first aid kit. A few random things. I hope they'll be helpful. It's not much, but…"

"It's more than much." He'd seen her bag before; it looked as if she'd emptied its entire contents onto the floor.

"Not enough." Her voice cracked. She turned around and took a shaky step up. "I'm so sorry. I regret it every minute."

His eyes remained on her. He should've been glad she was leaving; his friends were dead because of her. But though it made no sense, he knew he couldn't let her disappear up those stairs.

He chose light.

"Y-You don't have to go."


Eros stood behind the prosecutor's bench, palms down on the table. Ven was at the one to his side; Ili stood on the podium ahead. He studied her easy-going smile but came up empty. She'd promised to be on his side, hadn't she? Then why was she still chatting with the handcuffed criminal from Seven in the corner of the room?

Maybe he'd been fooled. Maybe she was craftier than he'd thought. Maybe she'd been allied with all the others all along, only pandering to him to keep him believing he could count on her. Still unlikely, though. He had expected such behavior from many of the other girls in their class, but never Ilithyia, who'd always been far too busy enjoying her life to really put any thought into any of this. Completely ridiculous of her, though he had to admit he wouldn't have it any other way.

In the periphery of his vision, he could tell Nevaeh had an ugly glare locked on him. He'd never had any issues with her, but if she was so keen on protecting Adair, she was free to go down with him, should she choose to. Not his problem, and nothing personal. If anything, it'd save him some work further down, when the alliance inevitably split and he and Ili would have to fight the others.

Ili banged the gavel three times. All chatter disappeared. "Order in the court! We now begin the trial of Adair Ryder, District Seven Male. Is everyone ready?"

Eros smiled at her. Ven nodded. Eros wondered why the One guy had been so insistent on defending Adair, almost as if everyone in the pack was in on a secret and had decided collectively to leave him out.

"Great. Eros, you may begin with the prosecution."

He took a deep breath. He'd played his best cards to get him here, to put Adair in the hotseat where he belonged. Only one step left to complete, and the thorn in his side would be gone.

"Thank you, Your Honor. It's my pleasure to bring the case today against Adair." He smiled at Ili. All the time he'd spent with her—it'd better pay off. "As we all know, we're in a desert. It's always hot here. The sand gets everywhere. And it's so dry. I'm sure we could all use some lotion; my skin feels like sandpaper.

"But there's something more valuable than lotion—though, if anyone's watching," he said, glancing upwards toward some hidden camera, "I'd love some lotion in here. And that's water. It's so important that even our very own Nevaeh thought it was worth starting a fight over."

He glanced at her. Still the same glare.

"That's why I'm pressing charges against Adair today." He held up the broken plastic husk he'd picked up yesterday. "We can't afford to lose any of our water supply, yet he's done this to us. To help it sink in, I'd like to call up Nevaeh Jiminez from District Ten."

"No one ever said anything about calling up witnesses," she said, venom in her eyes. "You can't do that."

"It's a reasonable request if it's relevant to the case."

"I ain't comin' and you can't make me."

Ili sighed. "Please? Just this once. You're holding us up."

"Ask the question if you want." She crossed her arms, chin tilted up in defiance. "I'm staying right here."

"C'mon," Eros said. "You know that's not proper courtroom behavior."

"And you know I don't care."

Ili banged the gavel. "Just ask it. We don't have all day."

He would've grumbled that they did have all day, but he needed her on his side. "Alright. Nevaeh, you're from District Ten. You've had experience rationing water. How many days did we lose here?"

"That's what you wanted to call me up for?"

"Just answer the question."

"This is insulting."

"It's relevant since you clearly care so much about our water supply. So how much did we lose?"

Nevaeh looked to Ili, but Ili gestured for her to answer. "Fine. For all six of us… We lost at least a day's worth. Maybe two. Now get on with it."

He smiled smugly at her. "Thank you. As we all know, our water supply is diminishing. Sponsor costs are going up, and our water gets more and more valuable every day. If Adair goes unpunished, he'll directly be the one responsible for our collapse. He destroyed the water; I say he doesn't deserve any more of the little bit we have left."

He glanced at Adair. The boy's unflinching slight smile mocked him.

"But that's not all," he continued. "I haven't told you how he destroyed it. It'd be one thing if it were an honest mistake but no—this is far worse. The main reason I've called Adair to account is because while you guys were out hunting, Adair was caught colluding with the pair from District Four."

Nevaeh narrowed her eyes at him and then looked questioningly at Adair. Ili's eyes widened at the Ten girl's apparent lack of confidence in the guy.

"Let's set the scene. I'd now like to call on Sostonio Caspiano of District Ten."

"Leave Sos out of this!"

He gave Nevaeh an unamused look. "I wasn't talking to you."

"You'd better stop —"

"Por favor." Sos touched her arm, instantly quieting her. "I'll be fine, okay? What's the question? I'd go up, but with the leg…"

"Oh, of course," Eros said. It was hard to believe the two Tens were a team when one was so difficult while the other was the most pleasant person he'd ever met. "Can you tell everyone what happened that day?"

Sos gave his district partner a reassuring look before turning to the rest of the room. "Of course. Eros and I were talking in here, but Adair kept going in and out, up and down the hall. Then he went out the front door, and he was gone for a while. And then we heard the screaming from out back, so Eros ran to go see what was happening."

Eros nodded at him. "Anything else?"

"I couldn't do nothin' so I just waited here. Then they both came in. I think they had some kind of argument, but I don't know for sure. That's it."

"Thank you." He gave the boy a real smile and turned back to Ili. "When I ran down the hall, I found Adair fighting the Fours, the broken gallon nearby. Or, he was trying to fight. I arrived just in time to see the Four boy knock Adair out. Completely unrelated—it was glorious."

Nevaeh looked pissed. She'd stopped trying to probe Adair for questions with her eyes and settled for staring at the floor. A good sign for him, if he'd ever seen one.

"Let me ask you: How did the water get there from the storage room? There's only one reasonable explanation. Adair brought it out, probably because he had some kind of agreement with brute from Four.

"The truth is pretty clear. Adair's been working with the other tributes behind our backs this whole time, and it nearly backfired. I say we give the traitor what he deserves. I rest my case."

Eros suppressed a smile as he sat down to preserve the seriousness of the room. Somberness had covered Ili's face, completely snuffing out the mirth she'd started out with. She glanced at him and then at Adair, who had to be bluffing with his infuriatingly calm grin.

"Thank you," she said. "This is serious. Are you ready, Ven?"

"I think so, Your Honor."

Eros leaned back in his seat. Lack of confidence. Perhaps Ven volunteering for defense had been a blessing in disguise. The One boy barely ever spoke; Eros hardly supposed that the guy's courtroom debut would be anything special.

Yet Ili smiled at the guy. "C'mon. Don't be nervous. Begin when you're ready."

Ven nodded. He sucked a sharp breath in. "Let's begin with what we know for sure." His words were slow and methodical. "We know that Adair left this room while Eros and Sos were talking here. We know that Eros saw the Four boy knock Adair out. And we know that the gallon broke at some point and we lost the water. I think there's another explanation for all this.

"Eros and Sos were chatting in here when they were supposed to be on watch. Sos can barely walk, but Eros should've been guarding the courthouse. He wasn't doing his job."

Eros crossed his arms and narrowed his eyes at Ven. Calling him a liar was bad enough; now the One boy was insinuating that he was irresponsible? Ven's eyes remained locked right in front of him, and Adair looked pleased. Not good. Perhaps Ven and Adair had been on the same team this whole time.

"So when Adair tried to stop them, it was two-on-one. It was all he could do to destroy the water to keep the Fours from getting it. I don't know if this was how it happened. I wasn't there," Ven said, rubbing his neck. "But only Eros and Adair were. There's no way to prove which story is right. We do know that Eros and Adair don't get along, so I don't know how much I trust this. That's all"

Eros found Ili now staring at him. He shook his head, but she didn't look convinced. Just confused.

For once, Ili seemed less than excited. "It's time for the verdict…"

"This is an attack on my character," Eros jutted in, glaring at Ven. Somehow, the One boy had done it. And now Adair seemed about ready to crack from laughter. "He's just trying to make me look bad. I promise—"

She banged the gavel. "You've already had your turn. I've decided that Adair is not guilty. But we can reconsider if more water goes missing."

He'd thought she was on his side. Hadn't she promised to remember her loyalties? He shot her a hurt look; though she started to gesture in defense, he looked away before she had a chance. Now Adair's smug eyes gloated at him from the corner as Nevaeh unlocked the handcuffs.

His plan had been airtight. Get Ili on his side, and by proxy get control of the whole alliance without coming under fire. Now everything was unsure. He'd thought Adair was his main enemy, but now he couldn't even be sure about Nevaeh. And Ven. For too long, Eros had dismissed him as a reclusive loner of little consequence. But Ili loved the guy too, and that immediately made the guy a larger threat than either Nevaeh or Adair, both of whom Ili seemed to trust less as time passed.

It was time to retarget.


Sostonio's gaze wandered back and forth among the group, as Adair gloated at Eros, Eros glared at Ven, and Ilithyia questioned Eros. He counted a total of four hands gripping weapons. Throw in Nevaeh's beaming and Sos had a situation on hand so volatile he could fuel his truck with it.

"Y'all." He gulped, hardly able to believe the words about to come from his own mouth. "We should get huntin'. Those tributes ain't gonna catch themselves."

"Good idea," Adair said, voice dripping with sugar. "Now that we've settled our differences—"

Sos gave him an unamused look. "That doesn't help anything. I'll stay back on watch. Who's going?"

Adair raised his hand, joining Nevaeh, who'd picked up her pack and weapon and was already out the door.

Ili looked to Eros, but he didn't respond. "I'll go too. Ven—wanna come?"

"We need three people on guard," Ven said.

"Go. I'll sit in the storage room." Eros sneered. "Or are you worried because I'm so irresponsible?"

"I didn't say that."

"You implied it."

"Maybe you should go," Sos said, tilting his head slightly in Eros' direction. "For the common good. I'll get Eros to help me over to the storage room."

Ven raised an eyebrow, but Ili was calling his name. He gave Sos a grateful look and disappeared after the other three.

As the four pairs of footsteps faded into the distance, it left behind Eros' hollow pacing. The Two boy circled the room. He grabbed his spear, and then his backpack, before making a wide, aimless arc towards the hallway.

"Hey," Sos said. "I'll go with you. Just need a little help with the chair."

Eros tilted his head back. His brow was furrowed. Whether it was anger or sadness, Sos couldn't tell. "Don't bother. I can handle it."

"I believe you." If Sos' leg hadn't been holding him down, he would've gone over and given the boy a hug, or a pat on the back at least. The boy looked like he needed it. So Sos settled for a friendly smile. "But I'd still like to come with. Ain't about guarding or nothin'."

Already stepping under the doorframe, Eros turned around with his eyes slightly narrowed.

Sos shrugged under the scrutiny. He still wasn't sure which side of the trial he believed, but the guy seemed upset and so it didn't matter which side Sos was on. "If it makes you feel better, think about it like I need your protection in case someone attacks us."

The boy's shoulders dropped. He came closer and extended the spear. "Use this as a walking stick, I guess. I'll move the chair."

Supporting some of his weight with the spear, Sos hobbled to storage, Eros just a few steps ahead to set the chair down in the dim room, barely lit by cracks in the roof. Once Sos had settled in, Eros sat nearby, back against the wall, staring into nowhere. His gloom filled the room.

"Güey," Sos said. "You dealin' okay?"

"About as well as I can, I guess." Eros' voice was dry, devoid of its usual charm.

"Which version was true?"

"Doesn't matter now, does it?"

"I don't think you were being irresponsible." Sos rubbed the boy's shoulder. Eros flinched. "I was pretty thankful you stayed back to talk. Things get boring real fast when you can't move around so easy."

The boy let out a hmph. "Glad you think so."

Still not much in a talking mood, huh? Alright. That was fine too. Sos gave him a pat on the back. "If you want to talk, I'm here."


It wasn't until late in the day on the third time she passed the large boulder by the road that Clarke realized she'd been going in circles. She stumbled to a stop beside it; she leaned against it only to pull away quickly when she found it hot, baked all day in the sun. Silence rang in her ears where Virginia's footsteps used to be. She wished the footsteps were still there.

She didn't miss the Eight girl. Not one bit. Not after the girl had wished for Clarke's death and taken all their supplies with her. Even though the girl had saved her life. Stuck with her the whole time. Rested a comforting hand on her shoulder after Zirconia's face had appeared in the sky. Virginia was too soft, too weak, too emotional to win; she'd never been a good ally from the start.

Except now that Virginia was gone, everything was too quiet, and Clarke couldn't help but feel that things would be better if the girl hadn't gone. But that would've required letting the Eleven girl live, and she hadn't had that option, all because of the Capitol's cruelty.

All alone. She stumbled under an overhang. Even with the gathering clouds, the sun's heart was relentless. Her mouth was dry, but she had no water on her. No food either, nor any painkillers for her crushed hand, which had started back up with the pain. Nothing, except for the gauntlets on her hands. She couldn't take them off now even if she wanted to; she had nothing to carry them in and there was no way she could walk around the arena carrying two metal gloves with only one hand.

She couldn't ditch them either. They were all she had left.

She wondered if Liat was in heaven. She had to be; the Seven girl had been perfect in every way—kind and cheery, with a sympathetic smile that could melt the coldest ice yet strong enough to fight for those she loved. It struck her that Liat wouldn't have killed the Eleven girl. She couldn't see the girl doing it. Liat was strong and brave and beautiful—but she was also hesitant?

They'd never reunite. Heaven had no place for someone like Clarke, especially after all she'd done over the past week. But that didn't mean she didn't wish to be there anyway.

What had she become?

Killing the Six girl had felt justified. It had been justified; the girl had attacked her at the Cornucopia and Clarke would be dead if Liat hadn't swooped in and saved her. But the Eleven girl wasn't so easy. If she had refused the girl water and moved on, allowing the girl to die of thirst, it might've been understandable. But she hadn't. The blood on her gauntlets cried out against her.

It was impossible to shut out the voices now.

She squeezed her eyes shut, only to be met by Zirconia's stern portrait, the same one that had hovered in the sky. It'd been so cold, far from the lively Twelve girl she'd known. The Capitol might've been ultimately responsible, but Clarke couldn't deny anymore that she had a part in it too.

Virginia, Zirconia, Liat. The only people that'd ever wanted her, yet she'd helped to destroy all three of them.

Was there any hope for her now?

She hadn't noticed the water leaking from the corner of her eye, nor the strangled sob in her throat, nor the crunching of gravel and sand rapidly approaching. Not until the familiar figure rounded the corner and she found herself staring teary-eyed at Zeph.


Zeph stared at the girl, sitting under the overhang with tears running down her cheeks and crusted blood on her gauntlets.

No water. No supplies. No Virginia. Something had gone awfully wrong. He couldn't claim to know Virginia well, but from the brief conversations he'd had with her, she didn't seem like the type to ditch an ally without cause. The girl had rescued Clarke from the Cornucopia though she'd had no obligation to. What could've caused her to leave Clarke like this?

Clarke bowed her head, the first time he'd ever seen her do it. He had half a mind to move on as if he'd seen nothing. If it hadn't been for her, he would still have Zirconia. It was already merciful enough for him to spare her life. Plus, all he had was a knife and the small bottle of water he'd received from his sponsors yesterday. He didn't have enough to share.

There was absolutely no logical reason for him to stay.

But he couldn't leave behind someone crumpled against a wall crying. That simply wasn't something he did, not ever, not now. Besides, dead or alive, Zirconia would berate him to no end if he did. For once, he found himself without words. It wasn't everyday he got a chance to talk with someone who'd hatched the plan that'd gotten his best friend killed.

So he leaned against the wall, as the setting sun cast his shadow over her. He had nowhere else to go anyway; it wouldn't hurt for him to wait right here. At least, it wouldn't hurt too much.


Azolla crossed her arms as she returned to the store, ushered in by the last bit of daylight. The thin fabric provided little in ways of insulation, even less since she'd cut off most of her sleeves to bandage Navarro's wounds. The winds had blown every evening, but they'd never been legitimately cold. Not until now, with the sun gone and the temperature unusually low. Shivering, she retreated behind the counter, back where Navarro had been all day.

His face lit up in the twilight. Poor guy. It couldn't have been easy for him to stay still and do nothing all day. "You're back."

"Yeah," she said, settling down beside him. Though her mouth was dry, she sighed contentedly. She'd had a long day of walking around in search of cacti or some other water source; she was glad for the floor beneath her, the wall to lean against.

"Did you find anything?"

"Nope. Not yet." She smiled at him. They said that a positive attitude accelerated the body's healing power. She had no idea if it was true, but it couldn't hurt to try. "I'm sure I'll find some tomorrow. How are you feeling?"

"Sick. Of doing nothing."

"Is it feeling better now?"

"It feels like I'm gonna die if I—" He tried to adjust his posture, only to be silenced by a sharp wince. "—move. But it's not too bad the rest of the time."

Azolla checked the water bottle. The water level hadn't gone down since she left this morning. Her own parched throat ached for some of it, but all of it had to go to helping him recover. "You need to drink more water."

"We're gonna run out."

"So you get priority," she said, holding the bottle up to his lips under he reluctantly opened them to let the water in. "Perfect. I'm sure you'll get better soon." She squinted at the makeshift bandage. Ideally, they'd change it right about now, but she had nothing else to give him and she'd used up the last bit of their antibiotics this morning.

"You're so sure about everything."

"It'll work out if we stay positive." She shot him a look. "I'm just trying to help, okay?"

"We're not little kids anymore."

She sighed. "If I wanted more negativity I would've kept searching for cacti."

Only the wind replied because he shut up after that. She leaned her head back, but cold air threaded though the cracks in the wall, chilling her neck. She pulled her knees up and shoulders tight, but the cold had settled in everywhere and it was impossible to escape it.

She swore she could see Navarro's dim figure shuddering. "It's cold, isn't it," she said.

"N-No." His voice shook; he cursed. "Not too cold."

"Of course you're cold." She chuckled lightly, earning her a glare from him. "I'm freezing too, but at last it's not super hot anymore, right?"

He grumbled under his breath. Azolla scooted closer until she could feel his shaking arm against hers. His skin might've been cold to the touch, but it was better than shivering alone. Surprised, he sucked his breath in sharp and she worried she'd hurt him, but his breathing restabilized and he pressed in too.

He shook less now. She did too. She wondered if he'd meant it when he'd told her that everything he'd said while she'd been fixing him up had been a mistake. She hoped he hadn't meant it; she was sure he hadn't, but it'd left her with questions all the same. She'd been so glad at first too. Not for the wound, oh no, but in that moment, he'd almost seemed like someone she'd could really get to know, a totally different person than the one that'd screamed into her face in training, an ally she could hold close without regrets.

Had he changed? She wanted to believe it. She wasn't sure if she dared to believe it.

She looked through the tiny sliver of window visible over the top of the counter, where the night sky slept overhead. With his slowly warming body next to hers, it almost felt like she wasn't in the Arena anymore.

"Are you still mad at me at all?" he said, his voice softer than usual.

She turned her head to face him in the dark. "Why would I be mad at you?"

"Dumb question."

He stared off into nowhere for a while before he spoke again.

"What do you do when you get mad?"

"Why do you ask?"

He sighed and then fell silent for so long she thought he hadn't heard her. "I can't stop thinking about Seven."

"I'm sorry."

"I hate him. So, so much. All I want to do is kill him." He'd started shaking again, though not from the cold. "But I can't. Even with everything he did to me."

"Well," she said, rubbing his shoulder. "When I'm really angry… I cry, I guess. Or write. Writing helps a lot."

"You serious?"

"It works! When my brother Nico isn't around, I'll write out what I feel, and then I feel better." She crossed her arms and pulled away, biting her lip. Cold air filled the gap. "It's not as dumb as you think it is."

"Then you're outta luck 'cause you can't do that here." He scoffed. "Huh, writing."

"You asked, so I told you."

"Fine. Sorry I offended you. Pretend I never asked."

She sighed. "If you get a chance, you should try it sometime. Do it for me."

"Just look at me. There's no way I'm winning."

"Not again." She groaned. He wasn't dying on her watch, not if she had anything to say about it. "We're staying positive, remember?"

"You're staying positive."

"You have to try too."

"Azolla—"

"Just go to sleep." She raised her voice a little. "Please. We'll talk in the morning."

Navarro continued grumbling under his breath. She ignored it. She tried to find a comfortable position, but every time she thought she figured it out, the cold air pressed against her skin and she found herself too cold to be still. Navarro was chattering now. He'd start and then immediately stop, only to resume after a few minutes. If only their sponsors would send them a jacket or something. For all she knew, they might not have any sponsors.

So she crawled up beside him again. He immediately leaned in, as if seeking her warmth, but she couldn't say she minded the slight relief from the cold. Then his head rested on her shoulder. A smile crept across her face, and the two drifted off to sleep.


Festive sounds filled the clear summer Capitol night. Bands performed on every corner; vendors selling Games merch lined the streets, advertising their wares to the swirling crowd as the smells of sweets wafted through the air. Once upon a time, the sights and sounds had bothered Rusk. Now, they were nothing more than an obstacle, an annoyance he had to press through to get anywhere in the Capitol on a weekend during Games season.

Or even a danger. If Acacio wanted to kill him right now, it wouldn't be hard amidst the noise and chaos. He could collapse from a heart attack right now and no one would bat an eye.

Tonight, Rusk's exhausted brain had little capacity to process the myriad of flavors and fragrances assaulting his senses. Meeting after meeting with jabbering Capitolites without gaining an ounce of information did that to a man. It didn't help that halfway through the day, Darah had tired of trying to pull information out of people who clearly knew nothing and taken them on a wild goose chase around the city, pulling up to every governmental bureau she could think of only to be stopped at the reception desk every time. Even the usually chipper woman had started ignoring the celebrations, making a beeline for the Victor's tower.

The doors closed behind them, drowning the sounds of the crowd behind a wall of thick reinforced glass.

Darah sighed. "We need a new plan."

Surprise, surprise. "Yeah. This isn't working."

"Why don't you come up to my place?" she said, as she pressed the button for the elevator. "The balcony's really nice, though the wind's a bit loud."

Nothing sounded better than crawling in bed and pulling the covers over his head. He yawned. "Can we do tomorrow?"

"I guess so. Hopefully no one will notice us in the daylight."

He gulped. After she pressed the button for the District Ten floor, he didn't add the one for Nine. "Fine. Just for a bit."

He stepped out onto the balcony. The wind rippled in his hair and clothes, whistling in his ear. Darah stood inside with two glasses in her hands.

"What do you want to drink?" she asked.

Nothing in particular, but she seemed happy to be a good host and he'd hate to rob her of it. "Anything but coffee."

Though her voice was strained, she chuckled and returned with two glasses of sweet tea. "This one's yours. Mine's got a splash of tequila."

"Tequila?"

"You want some too?"

"Oh—no, thank you. I'm good." He thanked her and took a sip, gazing at the sky. The stars didn't twinkle quite as bright here compared to home; even up here on the tenth floor up, out of reach from the streetlights and storefronts, lights from skyscrapers and towers diminished the glory of the heavens.

Darah had also quieted. Out here on the dark balcony, she didn't seem quite as animated as usual, instead staring off into space. The lights from inside her apartment cast a muted light over her somber features.

"Is… something wrong?" he asked. "I mean, it's not my business at all, but…"

She chuckled bitterly. "Isn't it all wrong? A victor dies and the Capitol doesn't care. And those of us that care can't get answers."

"If you don't mind me asking, why do you care so much?" he asked. "I mean—It must be a huge deal to you if you're taking time away from your tributes and you didn't even know Faridah that well."

"What if something happens to you? Or me?"

He sighed. "You're from Ten. You don't have to worry about that."

"It's more complicated than you think." She gave him a dirty look before downing the rest of her drink. "But Sos and Nevaeh will be fine. Palomina and Andor will call if I have to be there for anything official."

He murmured an acknowledgement. He'd never really considered how different life was for mentors from districts with a lot of victors. Just another reminder that though the two of them were tied together for now, they otherwise had nothing in common, no reason to chat in cafes or drink tea together late at night. And in the end, Darah still wasn't his friend. She couldn't be, not really, even if he wanted it. Once the investigation was over, she'd return to her wonderful social life with the rest of the Tens and he'd retreat back to his Victor's Village home, all alone.

Funny how he was still here. They said that sleepiness was bad for decision making.

"Oh, did the stuff with the sponsor funds work out?" Darah's voice had regained some of its energy.

He sighed. "I wish. It was going pretty well, but then Avisa pointed up at the screen and… we watched the Eleven girl die."

"Oh no…"

"Just the Hunger Games, I guess," he said, voice distant. At one point in his life, he would've considered that statement cold, but years of watching children die did something to one's brain. "I'll have to go back tomorrow and figure it out. Else it all goes to Clarke."

She tilted her head. "Don't you care about your district?"

"I do. But they don't deserve his money. You wouldn't understand."

"It sounds hard." Her voice was thoughtful. "Not having the support of your district. I'm sorry."

"I'm fine, I promise. I've always gotten by without them," he said. "Plus I've been doing better."

She didn't look convinced, with the concern in her eyes strong as ever. He looked away, fidgeting with his cuff. It wasn't a lie, per se. They were doing better. He could almost say he enjoyed exchanging morning small talk with Matza; even Van didn't seem quite as scary anymore. But that likely wouldn't last, after they discovered what he'd done with Mati's money.

Darah broke the silence. "Did you say Avisa was at the Sponsorship Office?"

"Huh? Yeah. She pointed out Eleven girl's death before I could sign the papers."

She had a glint in her eye. "Do you know her?"

"A little. Acquaintances, I guess." He narrowed his eyes, thinking. "She doesn't know anything about Faridah's death. Doesn't even know it was Acacio."

"Maybe she knows more about Acacio. Like if she was a mentor while he was on a prep team."

"It… might be a lead."

It wasn't unthinkable. Avisa clearly knew a few details about the man; perhaps she could shed light on what his relationship with Faridah had been like, answers no one else could provide. But if he were honest, he'd admit he wasn't sure how badly he wanted the answers. His mind needed them. But could he handle them?

An excited grin appeared on Darah's face as Rusk messaged Avisa. He hoped the District Four victor wouldn't mind; he couldn't say they were close and he'd hate to accidentally get on her bad side by bothering her. Or maybe he was just tired and starting to overthink things more than he usually did.

He returned his holoscreen to his pocket and took his leave, pausing for a moment to get one last look at the nighttime view of the Capitol. Somewhere out there, Faridah's murderer roamed free, possibly hunting down another victim, and if Rusk's intuitions were any good, the man couldn't be far.

He wasn't quite sold on sleep anymore.


Kill Counter:
Ilithyia Aella (D2F): II
Ace Invidia (D3M): II
Adair Ryder (D7M): II
Clarke Brioche (D9F): II
Adora Noble (D1F): I
Eros Worshire (D2M): I
Virginia Bedford (D8F): I
Nevaeh Jiminez (D10F): I


A/N: But while Rusk paniks I need to sleep because it is past midnight here and I am dead tired. Or just tired. Since I'm not dead. I'll shut and get to bed. I hope y'all enjoyed the mostly nice chapter. There won't be many of these left.

I'd still love to know y'all's thoughts!