Disclaimer: I still don't own The Hunger Games.

Note: Just a few quick things. First, the results of the sponsor poll are up on the blog. Congrats to Ronan, who came in first with 9 votes, and to Mae, Leo, Charu, and Shanali, who tied for second place with 8 votes. Provided they survive the bloodbath, each of them will receive a sponsor gift at some point during the Games. If they die here, that gift will pass to an ally. If their allies are toast, as well, it passes to a district partner. If all of their district partners are toast ... um ... they're really unlucky? I don't think I've ever gotten down to that point before.

Second, also up on the blog is an arena map, which will be updated regularly after I post a chapter. This is as much for my reference as it is for anything else. You may notice some places on the map have little pictures, while others are blank. Details will be filled in as the arena is explored. Deaths, kills, and any shifts in alliances will also be updated on the blog.

Third, there's a new poll up on my profile, this time asking which alliance(s) is/are your favorite(s). This isn't likely to have an effect on anything, other than letting me know who might need a little more "screen time," but I'm curious anyway and wanted to get some idea before alliances start dwindling a bit. Mild spoilers regarding an alliance that forms in this chapter, so read the chapter first.

Lastly, a quick plug for my new SYOT, a second installment in my X-Men/Hunger Games crossover universe. See my profile for more details.

And that's it. Here we go ... and it is done. The bell invites me. Hear it not, tributes, for it is a knell that summons thee to heaven ... or to hell.

Bloodbath
The Handle Toward my Hand

Ellery Brand, 23
Bartender

She was still getting used to this.

Ellery wiped down another table as the last few Victors began to stagger their way out of the bar. Most of them would be back soon enough, but right now they had to go get their tributes ready for the Games. Duke was one of the last to leave, clapping her on the back as he passed. "See ya later, kiddo," he called.

Ellery chuckled. Kiddo. As if he was older than her. Actually, he was several years younger, but he'd made it quite clear that in his opinion, nineteen years in District Six and almost two weeks in the Games made him considerably older than her twenty-three years in the Capitol.

And maybe there was some truth to that. Even before her father had been hand-picked by the president to succeed him, her life in the Capitol hadn't exactly been one of hardship. She'd always had everything she could need, and most things she could want. She couldn't argue with that fact, and usually she didn't even try. That wasn't what these Victors needed to hear.

Most of the time, they didn't need to hear anything. Most times, what they really needed was someone who would listen to them. And that was something she could provide easily enough. She'd become a good listener in the last few years. Her father had left her alone down here more and more often during the Games as his duties as the Vice President had begun to take up more and more of his time. And now…

Now, he was upstairs somewhere, putting a few final touches on something or other. Or maybe just getting a few hours of sleep. He'd slipped out a few hours ago, as had most of the Victors. Most of them would want to get at least a little rest before the Games.

Because they weren't likely to get much during the Games; that was certain. Especially not during a Quell. She wasn't old enough to remember the last one, but she'd heard plenty of stories, both from the Victors who had been old enough to mentor during it and from Capitolites who remembered watching it. It had certainly been an event worth watching.

Not that the other Games weren't, of course. They had her on the edge of her seat almost every year. But there was a certain excitement, a certain energy, that came with a Quell. The fact that there was an extra twist, the effort the Gamemakers would be putting in to make sure that everything in the arena was just right. She was looking forward to it, despite herself.

It was an odd balance – spending time with the Victors while still enjoying the Games. There was a different atmosphere down here than there was in the rest of the Capitol. The Victors weren't focused on trying to guess what would happen next or rooting for their favorites; they were trying desperately to keep their tributes alive as long as they could. Some of them were eager to bring home another Victor. Others were weary after years of losing tributes. They had a different perspective than the majority of the Capitol.

Maybe that was why President Grisom had assigned her father here eight years ago. To get a different perspective. But it had certainly blossomed into more than that. Running the bar had become a family affair. The others weren't as invested in it as she was, perhaps, but the rest of her family would always make an appearance or two at some point during the Games. It was good for the Victors to see them. Good for them to know that it wasn't just her and her father running things, that the rest of them would be there when things got really tough.

Ellery stretched a little as she continued cleaning the rest of the bar. It would be a little while before things got busy again. After saying a last goodbye to their tributes, most of the Victors would be in and out, trying to secure a few last-minute agreements with sponsors before the Games actually began. But they would all be here by the time it started. For the first few hours of the Games, there wasn't usually any sponsor activity. They wanted to see who would survive the bloodbath first, after all.

Ellery settled onto one of the couches for a short nap. It was Lander who woke her with a shake a few hours later. "Hey, barkeep, time to open up."

Ellery chuckled as she got to her feet. Anywhere else, he could probably get in trouble for calling the Vice President's daughter 'barkeep.' But not here. Here, the Victors felt comfortable enough to say things that most of them wouldn't dare utter elsewhere. That was one of the most important unspoken rules. Yes, they knew people were listening. Yes, they never slipped up and said anything too rebellious. But comments about how unfair the Games were … well, those were commonplace, and it wasn't uncommon to hear a rude remark – or several hundred – about the Capitol or Capitolites in general. Nothing that could really be considered too far out of line, but still.

Ellery took her place behind the bar as the other Victors began to file in. The screens showed Malchus talking to an excited crowd about the previous night's festivities and how amazing things were certain to be this year. Most of the Victors weren't even bothering to watch yet. It was the same sort of thing the host said every year. This was going to be the most amazing Games ever … until the next year, and the next, and the next.

Finally, there were a few shots of the tributes in a hovercraft, and the noise level immediately dropped. A few moments later, the camera showed a few of the tributes putting on their new outfits. Ellery saw a few of the Victors nod, satisfied, when they saw what the tributes were wearing. Skin-tight black pants and a long-sleeved black shirt. Black lightweight boots and socks. "Probably somewhere dark this year, then," Percival observed before taking another sip of his drink.

Ellery nodded. He was probably right. The outfits his year had been rather dark, as well. Come to think of it, both his and Miriam's arenas had been rather dark. Miriam's had been a series of catacombs, while Percival's had been the inside of a large opera house. Black had been a good color for camouflage those years, too.

"Great," Violet muttered, rolling her eyes. It was hard to blame her for that, though. All four of District Eleven's victories had come in outdoor arenas. A field, a seaside village, a playground, a vineyard. And a darker arena usually meant something contained. A space station. A hospital. An anthill.

Usually. There were outdoor possibilities that could be darker, as well. The only way to tell was to wait and see. And they wouldn't have to wait long. The screen flashed images of the tributes climbing onto their pedestals, waiting. Waiting.

Then the camera switched to an outdoor view, and Ellery grinned. It was a castle – a big castle with stone walls and five towers reaching towards the sky. The camera zoomed in through a window, then down a hallway, then another, to a room with a large chair – a throne, really – in the center. Beneath the throne was an assortment of weapons and supplies. Apparently, the throne was supposed to serve as this year's cornucopia. But something was different. Something wasn't quite…

As soon as the tributes started to appear, she realized it. The throne was big – bigger than an average chair. In fact, compared to the tributes, it seemed as if it had been made for a giant. So did everything in the room – everything except the weapons. The tributes surrounded the throne in a circle, a good distance away. Doors led out of the room, one in the middle of each of the five walls. Candles lined the walls, providing the only light in the room.

But it wasn't the doors or the candles that had caught most of the tributes' attention. On the floor in front of each of them was a dagger, lying in a sheath. Just far enough away that they wouldn't be able to reach them without stepping off their pedestals.

Sixty. Fifty-nine. Fifty-eight.

Leo, who was in front of one of the doors, whispered something to Barlen, who was directly to his left. Ellery couldn't help a smile. That was quite a stroke of luck. Or maybe placing them together had been intentional on the Gamemakers' part. Either way, Barlen nodded, acknowledging whatever advice Leo had given him. Probably just telling him to stay put until the numbers finished counting down.

To Barlen's left, Genevieve grinned at Macauley, who was positioned next to her. Macauley nodded towards Barlen, then towards the boy on her left, David. Genevieve hesitated for a moment, but then nodded in agreement. David was too busy looking for his allies, who were clear on the other side of the room, probably barely visible in the dim light.

Beside him, Ronan was also searching for his allies. Finally, he found them – quite a few places to his left, positioned near one of the other doors. He caught their attention and tapped himself on the chest, then pointed at them, probably trying to indicate that he would go to them, rather than the other way around. Next to him, Arabel had already located her allies on the other side of the room, but she was eyeing the dagger on the ground.

Fifty. Forty-nine. Forty-eight.

To Arabel's left, Darian was glancing around the room, taking everything in. The oversized candles on the wall seemed to have caught his attention, even if everyone else was ignoring them. Was there something different about them? Ellery peered closer, but, as far as she could tell, they – and the candle holders – were simply larger than usual. Just like everything else in the room.

Beside him, Merrik was getting ready to run; that much was obvious. There was a door almost directly behind him; it would be silly not to. He had no allies – not anymore. Best to get away alive while he could. Next to him, Dinah seemed to be deciding whether to run to Orphelia, who was on the other side of the room, or wait for her ally to come to her. To her left, Emmett was eyeing the dagger on the ground, his hands opening and closing, as if waiting for his chance to grab it.

To Emmett's left, Charu had located the rest of her allies. Consus and Aleyn were directly to her left, and Wes was only a few spots beyond them. Charu gestured towards the door behind them, and the rest of them nodded in agreement. They could worry about supplies later. Right now, it was more important to stay alive.

Forty. Thirty-nine. Thirty-eight.

To Aleyn's left, Aven had spotted her allies, directly across the room. She leaned forward a little, maybe getting ready to sprint towards them. That made sense, after all. There were two of them. One of her. Easier for her to try to reach them than the other way around.

To her left, Kilian and Shanali smiled at each other. Ronan had already indicated that he would be the one coming to them, which put considerably less pressure on them. To their left, Wes was nodding to his allies. Ellery glanced at Violet, who didn't seem at all relieved by the fact that District Eleven's tributes had been positioned together. That could be good or bad, after all.

Especially because right next to Wes was Elliot, one of the Careers. Not one of the more experienced Careers, perhaps, but that could mean that he would be even more likely to go after them in an attempt to prove himself. Or maybe he would be more likely to go after a weaker target. Ti was directly to his left, eyeing the Career nervously as he glanced over at Retro, who was two spots to his left.

Between the two younger boys, Skyton was motioning to his allies. Klaudia and Connor were nearby, but Arabel was all the way across the room. Connor shrugged, and his intention was clear. Three of them on one side. Arabel on the other. It was her job to meet up with them, not the other way around.

Thirty. Twenty-nine. Twenty-eight.

Retro glanced over at Ti, nervously eyeing Elliot. Elliot, for his part, didn't seem particularly interested in the younger boys. Maybe the fact that he and Retro were from the same district counted for something. Maybe they simply weren't all that tempting a target. Beside Retro, Klaudia looked like she was about to faint. Still, she hadn't yet, and there was less than half a minute left in the countdown.

Beside her, Margo was nodding to Annemae, who was two spots to her left. Between them, Orphelia glanced nervously back and forth from one girl to the other, maybe wondering if they were planning to go after her. Beside Annemae, Connor was preparing to run towards his nearest allies, but not without a glance over at Arabel, all the way on the other side of the room. Beside Connor, Vashti was smirking, nodding to Mariska, who was positioned near one of the other doors.

Twenty. Nineteen. Eighteen.

Beside Vashti, Etora was grinning. To her left, Lena glanced nervously from Etora to Justus, who was on her other side. Justus, for his part, seemed more interested in the pair from Seven, who were directly to his left. Thomas, directly to his left, had apparently noticed, and motioned to Nephelle to watch out. Beside Nephelle, Mae was glancing around this way and that, as if trying to take everything in at once.

To Mae's left, Mariska was watching Vashti intently – maybe trying to figure out why he was smiling. Suddenly, she nodded, and a hint of a smile crossed her face.

Ten. Nine. Eight.

"I think they've figured it out," Lander muttered, glancing over at Harakuise.

Harkauise nodded. "I think so."

Ellery didn't have time to ask what 'it' was.

Genevieve Odele, 17
District One

Three. Two. One.

As soon as the gong sounded, Genevieve lunged for the dagger in front of her. As soon as she tried to draw it from its sheath, however, she gasped. The handle of the dagger came loose in her hand. No. No, that wasn't quite right. There was no rest of the dagger. There was nothing inside the sheath.

It had been a trick.

Genevieve grunted in frustration as she lunged at the boy from Nine. That had been the plan Macauley had been trying to communicate. They had two easy targets on either side. It should have been a piece of cake. Now…

Just as she was about to reach the little boy, however, the older boy from Two stepped in the way. "Barlen, run!" he called. Genevieve shrugged, ignoring the fact that she was just as unarmed as Leo was, and charged anyway. Her first punch connected squarely with his jaw.

She braced herself for the returning blow, but it didn't come. Leo simply held up his arms, blocking blow after blow, backing up as she advanced. She lunged. He sidestepped. She lunged again. He turned, backing up—

Right into Mae, who had grabbed one of the candlesticks from the wall. The candle fell to the ground as the metal candle holder connected squarely with Leo's head. Leo staggered forward, right into Genevieve's next punch. A kick in the groin brought him to the floor, and Mae swung the candle holder again.

"Barlen, run!" Leo called just as the metal connected with his head. Genevieve turned in time to see that the boy was still watching. Still staring, horrified, as Mae swung again. "That's enough," Genevieve muttered, closing her hands around Leo's throat. She yanked his head off the ground, then slammed it down once. Twice. Blood began to pool around the body as he finally went still. Finally, Genevieve glanced up and saw that the boy had, in fact, run this time. Mae cocked her head a little.

"I think you got him."

Elliot Stone, 18
District Five

What was he supposed to do now?

Elliot stared at the handle in his hand. There was no dagger. What was he supposed to do with a handle? He'd been thinking about going after one of the tributes from Eleven, or maybe the boy from Nine to his left. But without a weapon…

Without a weapon, he couldn't chance it. Maybe he would be able to take out one of the other tributes, but it would take time. Time someone else could use to grab a real weapon, and then he would really be in a pickle. No, getting his hands on a real weapon was more important now than proving he could win a fight without one.

Elliot rushed to the center of the room. There didn't seem to be much competition in getting there. Most of the tributes had tried to grab their daggers, but it seemed everyone else had come across the same predicament he had. What were the Gamemakers trying to do? Why bother putting anything there at all if it was going to turn out to be useless?

Elliot reached the throne quickly, still amazed by how large it was. How large everything in the room was. He could easily stand under the throne with plenty of room to spare.

Stop it. He needed a weapon. Once the bloodbath was over, he could worry about getting a good look around. Quickly, he grabbed the nearest weapon he could find – a short sword. Then he glanced around. It was hard to see properly in the dim light, especially when so many tributes were rushing this way or that.

Which way was he supposed to go?

Emmett Darsier, 18
District Four

Was this supposed to be some sort of joke?

Emmett chuckled a little, staring at the handle in his hand. Immediately, he turned and ran out the nearest door. Sure, he could have stayed. Tried to grab a weapon from closer to the center of the room. But it wouldn't take long for the other tributes to realize their mistake, and then they would all be doing the same thing. It was better to get away while he could.

He could worry about the rest later. There would be plenty of time. Time when things weren't quite so chaotic, when he could focus on who he would really need to kill. There had been tributes near him he could probably have handled, of course. Either of the tributes from Three. The girl from Six. But the girl had allies – allies who would have outnumbered him. And the others … well, they just didn't seem worth his time.

Not right now.

He could wait. There would be plenty of time later to make an impression. A tribute from District Four picking up a kill during the bloodbath wouldn't really be anything particularly remarkable. Neither was a tribute from Four who decided to turn and run the other way. Neither of those things was a deal-breaker for the sponsors – not at this stage in the game. What would really matter was what he did later.

Right now, he just wanted to get as far away as possible.

Nephelle Sorena, 17
District Seven

Grabbing the dagger had been a mistake.

Nephelle took a step back as she realized. The weapon was useless. She had no way to defend herself. And the boy from One was charging.

Charging at Thomas. Not at her. She could help. But would the two of them really be able to take on a Career? Surely Thomas would have the sense to run.

Nephelle turned and took off through the nearest door, a bit to her left. "Come on!" she called as she finally made it through the doorway. It was only then that she realized.

Thomas hadn't followed.

She glanced back through the door, searching for him. He was trading blows with the boy from One. Neither of them was armed, so they'd resorted to using their fists. He didn't seem to be doing too badly, either. Maybe with her help…

No.

She didn't have time to run back now. By the time she got there, some of the other Careers might join them, and then they would be outnumbered. No, her best chance was to run – run, and hope Thomas would be able to make it out alive.

It was too late for her to help him.

Etora Nanovi, 12
District Two

They'd both grabbed completely useless weapons.

Etora couldn't help a laugh as she realized what had happened. The younger girl from Six, however, wasn't laughing. She was staring at the dagger handle in her hand, frozen, confused. Not for long – just long enough for Etora to act.

Immediately, she lunged at the girl's legs, tackling her to the floor. The girl's head hit the floor with a crack, blood already flowing from her head as she stared up, dazed. "Wait," she pleaded, but Etora didn't listen. She grabbed the sheath from the dagger – the dagger that didn't exist – and pressed it against the girl's throat. Harder. Harder. The girl's arms thrashed for a moment, but only for a moment. Before long, her body went limp.

Etora nodded crisply, getting to her feet. A little ways away, Justus was trading blows with the boy from Seven. Etora turned and raced towards the center of the room. Justus could handle himself – at least long enough for her to grab a real weapon. Which she would need if she was planning on helping him, anyway. She'd been able to catch the girl from Six off guard. She couldn't count on the same thing happening again.

But once was enough for now. That was what the Gamemakers had been counting on, surely, when they'd positioned the two of them so close together. The girl from Six had tried to cheat, tried to give the other tributes an unfair advantage. But her tricks wouldn't help her now. Now, there was no cheating. There were no shortcuts.

And that gave her an advantage.

David Abadi, 14
District Twelve

"Wait! I'm coming!"

David gasped for breath as he raced towards the center of the room. Retro and Ti did, in fact, seem to be waiting for him on the other side. All he had to do was get to them. And maybe grab a weapon or two along the way. A real weapon. And maybe some supplies. Maybe. If he had time before—

Just as he reached the center, however, something struck him from behind. David turned around, gasping, as the girl from Five reached him. The handle she had thrown clattered uselessly to the floor, but she had distracted him long enough for him to slow down a little.

David turned to run, but the girl was gaining on him. He was just reaching down for a dagger – a real dagger – at his feet when she tackled him. His hand reached for the dagger, but she pinned his arm to the ground before he could reach it. "Nice try," she admitted, reaching for the dagger herself.

David closed his eyes, but he could still feel the dagger as it plunged into his chest. Pain coursed through his body as he gasped for air. Another blow. He could feel blood. Warm and wet. But not was warm as it had been a moment ago. Everything was growing cold.

So cold.

Retro Liu, 12
District Five

He couldn't quite believe it.

Retro stared as Macauley drew her dagger out of David's chest. He hadn't thought she would really do it. There was a part of him that had believed – or at least hoped – that his district partners would do their best to avoid him and his allies. Elliot certainly hadn't seemed interested in coming after him, and Vashti … well, Retro wasn't sure where he'd gone, but he certainly hadn't attacked.

Macauley, on the other hand, seemed to be looking around for her next target. Retro felt a hand close around his. "Let's go," Ti insisted, dragging Retro towards the door. The door they'd been eyeing during the countdown.

"We should have…" Retro started, but even he wasn't sure how that sentence was going to end. Should they have tried to reach David instead of expecting him to come to them? Would that have done any good? Or would that have meant that all of them would have been killed, instead of just David?

Just David.

"Too late for that now," Ti snapped, but there were tears in his eyes as the two of them ran towards the door. Retro gripped Ti's hand tightly as the pair of them ran. He'd already lost one ally.

He had no intention of losing another.

Thomas Elliot, 18
District Seven

One of his allies had already left him.

Thomas ducked beneath another blow as the boy from One advanced again. What had Nephelle been thinking? They couldn't just run – not when Aven was still on the other side of the room, trying to reach them. If Nephelle had stayed, they would have had a chance together. Now he would have to wait until Aven reached him, instead.

Thomas fought the urge to glance behind him to see if she was coming. He couldn't afford to take his eyes off his opponent. The boy's fist almost connected with his head again. Thomas ducked, aiming for the boy's stomach, but he stepped aside just in time. Each of them had managed to land a few blows, but without a weapon…

Without a weapon, they were certainly on more equal footing than they would have been with weapons. Maybe he was lucky there hadn't been any daggers, after all. The Career was certainly better equipped to use one. But in a contest of sheer strength and agility … well, the Career probably still had an edge, but he was managing to hold his own.

Suddenly, Thomas saw a grin on the Career's face. He had just enough time to wonder what was so amusing before something pierced through his chest. Thomas gasped and looked down to see a short sword piercing through his chest. "Took you long enough," the boy from One muttered as the older boy from Five drew the weapon out.

Thomas sank to his knees, glancing behind him at last. Aven was still near the other side of the room, slowly making her way around the outer edges. She wasn't going to reach him in time, after all. The boy behind him grabbed his head, and the sword came towards his throat.

Then everything went dark.

Orphelia Mykonos, 17
District Twelve

There were too many of them.

Orphelia clenched her fists, well aware of the irony that two was apparently too many of them. The older girls from Two had charged at her almost immediately after the gong had sounded, pausing only a moment when they'd realized they didn't, in fact, have any weapons. Orphelia ran towards the center of the room. Her only chance was to try to make it to Dinah before—

She hadn't even made it halfway to the center before one of the girls caught her. One of them – she couldn't even tell which – slammed into her from behind. Orphelia fell to the ground, and immediately they were on top of her. Punching. Kicking. Orphelia raised her hands, trying to shield her face, but something smashed into her arm. A candle holder, she realized as her vision started to go dark.

That was why it had taken them a little longer to catch her. They'd taken a couple of the candle holders off the wall. Orphelia rolled a little to the side, but that wasn't enough. She could feel the blood flowing from her head. "Dinah!" she called out, even though she knew it wouldn't do any good. "Help! Please!"

But it was already too late.

Dinah Peralta, 18
District Three

It was too late to help her.

Dinah swallowed hard, fighting back tears as she watched. She was too far away to do anything. Still, she took a few steps forward, ready to step in and try. Maybe she would get lucky.

Suddenly, a hand closed around her wrist. "Don't," Merrik said quietly. "There's nothing you can do."

She knew that, of course. She'd known it ever since the two girls had caught up with Orphelia. But she didn't want to believe it. Orphelia was the only ally she had. If she died now…

"Let's go," Merrik insisted quietly as Orphelia's body went still. "It won't take them long to decide to come after us if we stay."

Us?

Dinah looked down at her district partner. Did he mean what she thought he meant? "Look, your ally's gone," he said softly. "So's mine. Well, she was my ally, anyway, before…"

Before last night. But maybe what had happened last night didn't matter now. Lena was dead. Orphelia was dead. But she and Merrik were still alive.

Dinah took one last look at the two Career girls, who were gathering up supplies. Then she turned and followed Merrik out the nearest door. "I … I'm sorry about Lena," she said at last.

"I'm sorry about Orphelia," Merrik agreed. "But not sorry enough that I want to stay and join them. We have to move faster."

He was right.

Arabel Ford, 15
District Four

She wouldn't get a better chance than this.

Arabel charged at the younger boy from Two, who seemed startled that she would decide to attack him. But why not? He probably didn't have any more actual training than she did. And he was unarmed, just like her. She wouldn't get a better chance.

Besides, it wasn't as if she was about to charge across the room to try to get to her allies. If they knew what was good for them, they were already running. She could always catch up later. It wasn't as if they were going to wait around for her.

The boy from Two stepped to the side, shaking his head. "Not a good idea," he growled, lunging at her with the handle of a dagger in his hand. Arabel smirked. What did he think he was going to do with that? She'd made the same mistake, grabbing at a weapon that wasn't actually there. But apparently she'd had more sense than him. She knew it wasn't going to do her any good.

She lunged again, striking at the boy's chest. He dodged, backing up towards the wall. She followed, lunging again, and again he backed up. Farther. Farther. He had almost backed up all the way to the wall when he ducked beneath her next blow, whirling around to give her a shove towards the wall himself. Arabel stumbled, trying to regain her balance as her back slammed into the stone wall.

The dagger handle found her jaw, and she could taste blood in her mouth, but that motion brought him within her arm's reach. She lashed out, and her fist connected squarely with his neck. He staggered backwards, backing up just enough to let her see his district partner, who was running towards the pair of them, a hatchet in one hand and a knife in the other.

Arabel turned to try to run, but the boy had recovered his wits, charging forward and pinning her against the wall. Arabel let out a grunt she slammed into the wall again, the boy's shoulder pinning her chest. Arabel's hands closed around his throat, but the other girl was faster. The cleaver dug into her wrist, and Arabel let go, screaming in pain, staring down at her hand, which was barely still attached to the arm.

"Thanks," the boy muttered as the younger girl handed him the knife.

Connor Sawyer, 15
District Ten

He didn't see the killing blow.

Connor forced himself to look away as Arabel's screams echoed through the room. "Connor!" Skyton shouted. "We have to go!"

He was right. But Arabel…

He had assumed that if any of them would have a chance of making it across the room to the others, it would have been her. But she hadn't even tried. She had charged after the boy from Two without a second thought. Connor swallowed hard. He had thought about the same thing, before realizing that their weapons were useless. The boy from Five – the one with the bleeding disorder – had been standing right beside him. He would've needed only one blow to make an easy kill.

But without a weapon, their best chance was to run. He, Skyton, and Klaudia had realized that – if it had even occurred to the others to fight. But Arabel … had she ever really had a chance of reaching them?

Connor shook the thought from his head as he followed his allies through the door. At least he still had them. He'd questioned Skyton's choice to include Klaudia in their alliance, questioned whether or not he and Arabel should strike out on their own. Now he was glad he hadn't.

They were all he had left.

Charu Varma, 18
District Six

She could hear the screams from the next room.

Charu's stomach churned as she, Wes, Consus, and Aleyn kept running. They'd gotten lucky so far. Being positioned so close to each other at the start couldn't be a coincidence. For whatever reason, the Gamemakers had wanted them to get away.

Unless…

Unless the reason the Gamemakers had clumped them all together was because they'd expected them to fight. There were four of them, after all. They could have picked a target – pretty much any target who wasn't a Career – and overwhelmed them by sheer force of numbers. But it hadn't even occurred to her – not until now.

And apparently, it hadn't occurred to any of the others, either. They'd nearly reached the end of the next room before they even paused to look around. When they finally did, it was Consus who said what they were all thinking. "What the hell?"

Clothes lined the walls of the room – clothes that looked like they had been designed for a giant. In one corner was a large wardrobe, large enough to fit the clothes inside. Wes hurried over to it, grinning, jumping up to reach the handle. The door swung open.

Just then, a shout came from the other room. "Hurry!" Wes called to the others. "Let's hide in here!"

Consus raised an eyebrow. "Serious?"

Aleyn shrugged. "Why not?"

One more scream was enough to decide for them. The four of them hurried into the wardrobe, closing the door almost all the way. It wasn't even a tight fit. Charu smiled.

No one would look for them in here.

Ronan Callaway, 18
District Four

"This way!"

Ronan grinned as he caught up to Shanali and Kilian at the doorway they'd been positioned closest to. A bag of supplies was slung over his back, and he'd managed to grab an axe, a dagger, and a mace. The boy from Five had taken a swing at him, but barely managed to slice his arm a little before he'd noticed that his ally needed help and decided that was more important than taking on someone who was already heavily armed.

"Did anyone else go this way?" Ronan asked as he followed his allies through the door.

"Just the group of four – Wes and his bunch," Shanali answered. "I don't think they're going to attack us if we head the same way. Certainly not without any weapons."

Ronan nodded. She was probably right. But that wasn't why he'd been asking. He'd been wondering if anyone had gone this way who they might be able to attack. But it didn't seem fair to ask Shanali and Kilian to go after their district partner. Certainly not this early in the Games. Besides, Wes' group of allies included one of his district partners, and that wasn't a confrontation he wanted right now, either.

No, there would be plenty of time for that later. Right now, they had what they needed. They had supplies. They had weapons. And they were alive. Ronan handed the dagger to Shanali and the axe to Kilian. He kept the mace for himself, glancing around as they entered the room.

Things were going pretty well so far.

Aven Faraday, 16
District Seven

Nothing was going right so far.

Aven gripped the bag of supplies she'd grabbed from the center of the room. It was the least she could do after being too far away to help Thomas. He was dead, but Nephelle was still out there somewhere. Just through the door in front of her. "Nephelle!" she called, hoping her voice wouldn't attract the attention of any other tributes. She wasn't sure exactly where Nephelle had gone after going through this door.

As soon as she stepped into the room, however, something struck her in the head. Aven gave a shout as the bag was ripped from her grasp. "Hey!" she called, but a second tribute struck her from behind. Something metal cracked against her skull, and Aven toppled to the floor.

It was only then that she could see them – the girl from Eight and the boy from Five. The boy was holding her bag, the girl a candle holder. The boy slung the bag over his shoulder as the girl knelt down beside Aven, taking hold of her throat. "I'll make it quick," she promised, bringing the candle holder down one more time.

That was the last thing she saw.

Vashti Rii, 16
District Five

"Nice work."

Vashti looked down at the girl Mariska had killed. Officially, the Gamemakers would probably credit it as a joint kill. He had struck the first blow, after all, and taken the girl's bag. But it was Mariska who had done the actual killing.

Not that it really mattered who had done it. But Mariska was less likely to get hurt in the process. If the girl's fingernails had so much as scratched him deeply enough…

Stop it. That hadn't happened. And nothing had happened at the start of the Games, either. He had to admit, he'd had his doubts when he'd seen what appeared to be a dagger for each of them at the start of the Games. All it would take was one lucky stroke from any nearby tribute.

But that had been too simply. Too easy. Too quick. The Gamemakers didn't want things to be quick – especially not during a Quell. He'd suspected that the daggers were fake. Or, at the very least, he'd hoped they were fake. And he had been right.

He had been lucky. He couldn't count on that luck lasting forever. He had to find some way to protect himself.

And for right now, that meant getting as far away from the other tributes as possible. He and Mariska hurried past a large cauldron in the center of the room and towards a door on the opposite side. When they stepped through and got a good look around, a hint of a smile flickered on his face.

Maybe he had a chance, after all.

Darian Travers, 14
District Two

They'd managed to prove themselves, after all.

Darian glanced around at the rest of the Career pack as the sound of the last cannon echoed through the room. Seven cannons. Seven deaths. And they had all survived, with nothing more than a few scrapes and bruises between them. Justus had apparently taken a few punches, and the girl from Four had managed a blow to Darian's neck that might be sore for a little while, but all in all, they'd emerged practically unscathed.

Justus looked around, admiring their handiwork. "Elliot and I took out the boy from Seven," he began. "How'd everyone else do?"

"Etora and I got one of the girls from Four," Darian blurted out. Justus hadn't been looking at him in particular, and he might not have even thought twice about the girl from Four if she hadn't come after him first. But there was no reason they needed to know that.

"And I took care of the troublemaker from Six," Etora added, earning an appreciative whistle from Macauley.

"Nice," Macauley beamed. "Two kills during the bloodbath – not bad for our youngest Career. I got the boy from Twelve. And Genevieve and Mae got Leo."

Darian's stomach churned a little, and Genevieve avoided his gaze. "I was going for the kid from Nine, but he stepped in the way…"

Etora clapped her on the shoulder. "No need to apologize. Leo wasn't one of us, and he made his choice."

Darian said nothing. Leo had made his choice. And he'd made his. He'd chosen to join the Careers. If he hadn't, would he still be here? Or would they have come after him just as easily as they'd gone after Leo? Would he be the one they were sitting around talking about?"

"That's five cannons accounted for," Justus concluded, glancing around the room. "Who got the girl from Twelve? Did anyone see?"

"I think it was the others from Two," Elliot offered. "Annemae and Margo."

"Makes sense," Justus agreed. "That's it for the bodies, so whoever the seventh cannon belonged to, they must've made it out of the room." He glanced at the supplies. "All right, then. Eat something if you're hungry, pack a bag with a little extra food, and find a weapon or two that you like. There are seven of us, so we can afford to leave a guard or two. Any volunteers?"

Elliot's hand shot up immediately, as if he were an eager student in class. "I got you covered, boss."

"Want some company?" Darian offered after a moment.

Elliot clapped him on the shoulder. "Sure."

Justus nodded. "All right, then. That's decided. Let's get to it." He smiled for the cameras.

"The Games aren't over yet."

Brennan Aldaine
District Twelve Mentor

It was already over.

Brennan wrapped an arm around Kyra, who was staring at the nearest screen, still not quite believing what she'd seen. "They're both gone." Her voice was barely a whisper. "Just like that. They did everything right. Everything we said. And they just … they never had a chance."

Brennan pulled her in closer, and she buried her face in his shoulder. For a while, neither of them said anything. There wasn't much to say. She was right about what David and Orphelia had done. Neither of them had made a mistake. There wasn't really anything either of them could have done differently. Yes, they'd both been trying to reach their allies from across the room, but if they'd run a different direction, chances were good that they still would have been caught. Sometimes there was no right answer. No strategy that would have worked. They'd simply gotten unlucky enough to end up near a Career who had no trouble targeting them.

"So what now?" Kyra asked at last. "What do we … do?"

Brennan motioned to Ellery, who poured him another drink. "We drink a toast. We watch the rest of the Games. We try to relax, try to forget, and probably fail most of the time. And then we hope for something better to happen next year."

Something better. He knew how hollow the words sounded. There was nothing 'better' in the Games – not unless one of their tributes came out alive, which had happened exactly twice. Whether David and Orphelia died now or later didn't really matter, in the end. At the end of the Games, the tributes who came in second were just as dead as those who had died in the bloodbath. He raised his glass, and Kyra followed suit.

Across the room, Brennan saw Harakuise do the same. An apology, maybe? That was more than he was likely to get out of Mortimer and Harriet, at least. But Etora had been right about what she'd told Genevieve. There was no point, really, in apologizing. Tributes killing each other was what the Games were about. Still, he appreciated the thought. Brennan gave Harakuise a nod, and the three of them drank.

Maybe next year would be better.

"Is this a dagger which I see before me, the handle toward my hand? Come, let me clutch thee."