Chapter 1 – Capitol, 28th March, three months till games

Artemesia was dissatisfied. The preparations for the arena should have been finished long time ago. She took a deep breath and looked again through the files that were to be given to the president to look up. If he were not satisfied, that would be a disaster. Snow punished people when they had failed and even she, as the Head Gamemaker, was afraid of his power.

Artemesia had been working as a Gamemaker for almost five years and last year she had succeeded in becoming head of the department. She had a good memory of her mentor's sudden death.

The only thing that was healthier than Augustus McCollins was Brussels sprouts. Officially, the cause of death was heart failure, but Artemesia knew better.

Days earlier, Augustus had always sipped tea on his much-loved Earl Grey. What he didn't know was that he had been drinking more and more of his own death.

Artemesia had seen the 51st Hunger Games. The moment the winner, a miserable boy from District 10, had cut his throat on live television, McCollins' time as chief gamemaker expired. A year without a winner was a year of shame. When she returned to her apartment that evening, a single white rose lay on the coffee table. With a pounding heart, she reached for the note that lay next to it.

I hope you don't disappoint me like he did.

Although there was no sender, she knew immediately that Snow had struck again. Two days later, she was officially declared the new Head Gamemaker.

Artemesia could have been happy about it, but she knew what had happened to her predecessor. It only took a mistake and no one would never hear from her again.

So every year she promised herself a better arena, an even more popular winner, and more fear in the districts. So far, things have gone quite well. And she wouldn't let the idiots under her ruin that.

The meeting with the respective heads of the different departments was a bleak one.

They only made suggestions that had already occurred in previous games. Artemesia needed innovation and ideas, not boring imitation.

She drank a sip of hot coffee. After all, it was good.

"I think we should end this meeting. Tomorrow we will try again. You should think about what you're proposing here. And now leave!" she said. The undertone was angry and irritated. Artemesia got up and tigered through the room. She needed a good idea for the arena, just one. There was no reliance on the team, so she had to take it into her own hands.

"Something new, something that has never existed and people will love," Artmesia muttered, looking at the painted wall of the meeting room.

And all of a sudden the idea was there. She fell on a blank sheet and wrote until her hand began to hurt. The sun had already set when Artemesia was finished. Satisfied, she reread what will scare the districts.

"It's going to be divine," she whispered. With a gleeful glitter in her eyes, she cleared her belongings and left the room. All that remained was the golden facade of the wall, on which the greatest heroes of myths looked down and wondered what she was up to.