Alfonso Cadel-18 (District 1 Male)

"So, Alfonso, I understand that you and Shimmer have decided that you want to be mentored separately. Do I have that right?" asks Dahlia. Her face a mask of professional indifference as she slides onto the barstool next to me and turns her head ever so slightly in my direction.

"Well, that's what Shimmer has decided," I say, taking a small sip of my water — which is the only drink these lame-ass avoxes will serve me — before gently setting my glass back down on the bar and continuing.

"He's the one with the issue. I have no problem with the two of us training together." I growl, turning to face her and showing off the black-eye Shimmer gave me.

"Did you have that when you got on the train, Alfonso?"

"If you have to ask the question, you already know the answer," I quip, playfully shot gunning the rest of my drink before motioning to the bartender for another.

"What the hell happened?"

"Shimmer and I were talking about our families. Or, I was talking about my family. He was doing a lot of sitting and grunting."

"And?"

"And when I asked about his, he got real tense for a second and then punched me in the face before storming off towards his room."

"Oh, for the love of ... why the hell did he do that?"

"You know, I'm not entirely sure. One second, we were having a perfectly nice, if slightly one-sided conversation, and the next, he's cocking back to punch me. The only reason he got me in the eye instead of in the nose, which is what he was aiming for, is because I had turned my head to check out an absolutely exquisite little avox with blood-red hair."

"Do you want me to have the medic come and look at it?" she asks, her voice thick with concern as she continues to sit there and stare at it with perverse fascination.

"It's a black-eye, Dahlia," I say, accepting a new glass of water from the bartender. Who quickly takes my now empty glass and dumps the ice from it into a small rag before tying the ends together and motioning for me to hold it up to my eye before handing it to me. "There's nothing they can do about it that I'm not already doing."

"Still, it looks like it hurts, and they might have something to help with that at the very least."

"I've had worse," I assure her, flashing a one-eyed version of my trademark smoldering grin as she does her best not to laugh at how ridiculous it looks. "More importantly, I'm going to have to survive much worse than this if I want to win the Hunger Games."

"Fair enough," she says, taking one last long, lingering look at my now covered bruise before turning her attention towards the avox bartender and pointing towards a bottle of brandy. "But do me a favor and try to avoid Shimmer for the time being."

"And how am I supposed to do that?" I ask, fighting back the urge to roll my eyes at the mind-numbing stupidity of her request.

"We're not just district partners — we're careers. We're going to be spending practically every second we're not sleeping joined at the hip for the better part of the next week."

"Fair enough," she concedes, a look of defeat on her face as she sips on her brandy. "Then will you at least try not to provoke him again?"

"I'm not sure what I did to provoke him this time," I admit. "But if it'll make you feel better, I'll promise to do my best not to provoke my lunatic partner and ally."

"That's not funny, Alfonso."

She's right, I may not want to admit it, but she is. This really isn't the time or the place for jokes like that. Not with someone as unstable and unpredictable as Shimmer. But I just couldn't help myself.

"I'm sorry, Dahlia," I say, my voice even and serious for the first time since I boarded the train. "You're right, that wasn't funny, and I shouldn't have said it. I promise I won't do it again and that I'll do my best not to provoke Shimmer.

"At least until we get on the training room floor. Once we get there, all bets are off."

"That's the best I'm going to get out of you, isn't it?"

"I'm afraid so."

"Then it'll have to do," she says, taking another small sip of her brandy before sliding off her stool and starting towards the door. "Because we've wasted enough time on this as it is."

"I agree," I say, sliding off my own stool and falling in step behind her as she leads me out of the bar car, through the sleeper car, and into the parlor car.

"Good, because we have a lot to cover and a limited amount of time to cover it," she says, making her way towards the back of the car, where a plush, red-velvet couch waits for us. "So we'll go ahead and get right to the heart of the matter.

"What makes you, Alfonso Cadel, victor material? How are you going to sell yourself to the rest of the career alliance? How should I be selling you to potential sponsors?

"And please, don't mention anything about your confident nature or your out-of-control libido. I already know all I need to know about those, and they basically sell themselves."

"You're putting me in a bit of a bind here, Dahlia," I laugh. "Taking away my easy answers."

"That's the point. So, how about it? What makes you a viable contender, Alfonso?"

Ariadne Whitlock-18 (District 4 Female)

"And that, I'm afraid, is checkmate — Looks like I win again, Ariadne."

"How did you … that took you seven moves, Cornelia. SEVEN?!"

"I know, I'm disappointed too. It was only supposed to take four." she giggles, quickly resetting the board as I continue to sit there and stare at her unbelievingly.

"But … how?" I ask, my mind going a mile a minute as I try and fail to figure out how she beat me so fast. Never mind how she was supposed to do it in half the moves.

"I've been playing chess with the instructors and students at the academy for years. And I've never seen anyone win that fast unless their opponent was trying to lose. And even then, it still took them over a dozen moves to win."

"That's because they were playing against themselves too," she says, repeating a slight variation of a favorite saying of one of our academy's premier instructors.

"I take it you had Coral for polearm training at the academy too?" I ask, leaning back in my chair and smiling at her as she finishes resetting the board.

"In addition to swimming and conditioning," she groans. "She was such a demanding bitch, but I like to think I'm better off because of her training. You know what I mean?"

"Absolutely," I say, turning my attention back to our game and considering my options before carefully taking a pawn in my hand and moving it forward. "I doubt I would be sitting here now if it wasn't for her," I say, a playful grin on my face as her long, flowing sleeve catches the top of her king and sends it toppling over into her line of pawns.

"Surrendering already? That's a bold strategy, Cornelia."

"Shut up," she giggles, grabbing the small throw pillow off the couch next to her and hurling it softly at my head.

"I'm glad to see the two of you are getting along," coos Cleopatra as she glides gracefully into the car with a happy smile on her face and a pleased look burning in her bright, emerald eyes. "After going through your files, I was worried that there might be a little animosity between the two of you. I'm happy to be wrong."

"You have our files?" I ask, my curiosity getting the better of me.

"Of course, I do. A representative from the academy sent them over after the reaping.

"What's in them?" asks Cornelia.

"Nothing important. It's mostly training reviews, aptitude scores, and a personality profile."

"Oh, what do those say?" she asks, her big brown eyes lighting up like a kid in a candy store.

"That both of you are incredibly intelligent, talented, and practical — Which is why you're going to be ok with me training the two of you together. Right?"

"I'm game if Ariadne is."

"I don't see why not," I say, smiling at Cleopatra and Cornelia in turn before turning my attention back to the chessboard.

"Fantastic!

"In that case, I think we should get started as soon as possible. But before we do, there are a couple of things I need to clear up with Ariadne. So, if you would be so kind as to give us some privacy, I would appreciate it, Cornelia."

"Of course," she says. Sliding out of her chair and heading towards the door with a smile on her face. "I'll be in my room when you're ready for me."

"This should only take us a few minutes," coos Cleopatra, her eyes sparkling as she watches the door wiz shut behind Cornelia with an audible woosh.

"So, what did you need to talk to me about?" I ask, smiling — My tone light and informal.

"This," she says, passing me an envelope emblazoned with the official seal of the District Four Career Academy. "I assume you know what it says."

"I can guess."

"I'm sure you can. Now, I'm only going to ask this once, and I want you to think long and hard about your answer. Is there anything I need to know about you and your relationship with Cornelia?"

"Nothing that I'm sure you don't already know," I say, staring down at the chessboard in an attempt to avoid Cleopatra's accusing gaze.

"Are you going to have a problem working with Cornelia, Ariadne?"

"Of course not," I say, a little too quickly and defensively. "Why would you think that?"

"Because you had a total meltdown when you found out she was going to be the volunteer."

"I wouldn't call it a meltdown," I say, my tone short and defensive with just a hint of anger. "I was understandably upset at the idea of being passed over after for the honor of volunteering, but I didn't have a meltdown."

"That's not what your instructors say, though, is it?"

"What do you want from me, Cleopatra?" I growl, fighting back the urge to cry as she continues to stare at me. "To say that I hate Cornelia because she's supposed to be here, and I'm not? That I hate her because, after just two years of half-assed training on her part, she was already better than me at everything?

"Fine, I will. I hate her. I hate everything about her. But that doesn't mean I'm not capable of setting my feelings aside and doing what I need to do to win. And if that means working with Cornelia, then so be it."

"Is that your final word on the matter?"

"Yes, it is."

"Then I guess that's that. I'll go get Cornelia so we can get started."

Sedge Hamilton-18 (District 9 Male)

Well, it finally hit me. It may have taken a couple of hours, one incredibly hot shower, and an innocent little remark from my district partner Sentri. But the fact that I'm a real-life Hunger Games tribute has finally sunk in. And I don't know how I'm going to deal with it.

Part of me wants to scream and cry, even though I know it won't do me any good to break down like that. While another part of me wants to dive headfirst into prep mode, to spend every waking second, I have between now and the start of the games coming up with a foolproof plan to help me get out of this mess alive.

Which is honestly what I would prefer to be doing, if only because it would mean I'm doing something besides sitting here thinking about all of the super bloody and painful ways I could possibly die. And believe me, there are a crap ton of them.

But that's what I'm doing. Because there's still a small part of me that wants to sit here and scream and cry, and it won't let me move on until I do.

So, instead of doing something productive with my time, I'm just sitting here on my bed in my compartment, listening to my heart pound in my ears and the rhythmic drip, drip, drip of my leaky bathroom faucet. While thinking about how quickly everything can, and probably will, go wrong for me in the arena.

In fact, I'm in the middle of a particularly uncomfortable and bloody thought when a soft but persistent tapping starts coming from my door — Followed shortly by the soft but commanding voice of my mentor Nyxeris.

"Sedge, can I come in, please?"

"Sure," I say, wiping the tears from the corners of my eyes with the back of my hand as I slide off my bed and do my best to make myself look presentable in the ten or so seconds it takes her to punch in the code for my door.

"Thank you," she says, an exhausted look on her face as she takes a couple of small, tentative steps into my room as the door whooshes closed behind her. "Do you mind if we sit? It's been a long day, and my feet are killing me," she asks, her eyes fixed firmly on a rather uncomfortable-looking folding chair set up on the far side of the room.

"Please," I say, darting over and collecting the chair for her, setting it up a few feet away from my bed before casually plopping back down on top of it as she slides down onto the thinly padded metal seat.

"Thank you again."

"Don't mention it," I mumble, my brain going a mile a minute as it tries to figure out what she's doing here.

She's supposed to be working with Sentri right now, not me.

That was the plan we all agreed to. Sentri gets her from about an hour ago until dinner, and then I get her from after dinner till we go to bed. But she's here, and she's supposed to be with him. Why is she here?

"Relax, Sedge. Sentri needed a break, and he asked me to come and check on you. He said you looked a little pale earlier, and he wanted to make sure you were alright."

"Am I that easy to read?" I ask, smiling weakly as all of the tension and concern comes rushing out of my body as a calming sense of relief washes over me.

"It's your eyes," she says, a tired laugh slipping past her lips as she massages her temples gingerly.

"My eyes?"

"Yeah, they light up when you're thinking. And when you're overthinking, they light up like a Christmas tree."

"Note to self, wear sunglasses when overthinking in the future," I joke, my weak little smile growing slightly as she shakes her head and giggles softly.

"It couldn't hurt," she sighs, her exhaustion shining through with every word.

I know I shouldn't be worried about this right now, but I can't help it. When someone has a problem, I have to ask about it. It's just who I am. And I'm not going to stop being who I am just because I'm in the Hunger Games. Even though doing so would be in my best interest.

"Are you ok, Nyxeris?" I ask, my voice low and hesitant. "You look —"

"Tired?"

"Exhausted is more like it," I say, the words falling out of my mouth before I can stop them. "Sorry."

"There's no reason to be sorry, Sedge," she laughs, her shoulders slumping in defeat. "Truth be told, I am tired. I'm in over my head here, and I've only been a mentor for a few hours."

"Join the club," I groan, again without thinking.

"I know," she says, her voice low and sad as she looks up at me with tears in her eyes. "I know my problems seem small compared to yours, Sedge. And they are, I would never dream of comparing what I'm going through to what you and Sentri are dealing with."

"That's not how I meant it," I assure her, my brain going into overdrive trying to find a way to walk back my last stupid comment.

"Yes, it is," she says, her voice dropping a couple of octaves as she buries her face in her hands. "And it's ok, Sedge. I asked for this. I fought for it. You didn't. And I'm not nearly dumb enough to believe this is the honor my husband and the other escorts make it out to be."

I'm not sure I'm comfortable with the turn this conversation has taken. What if someone hears her talking like that? What'll happen to her? What will happen to me if someone hears her talking like this to me?

"We shouldn't be talking about this, Nyxeris."

"You're right. What's done is done. I'm here, and so are you. All that's left is for us to make the best of it while I do my best to get you or Sentri out of the arena alive. That's the goal."

"Yes, it is," I whisper.

"And that's what I want you to work on until dinner," she says, her eyes burning with determination. "A plan you can use to make it out of the arena alive. Come up with as much as you can, and we'll go over it after dinner. Deal?"

"Deal," I say, nodding confidently as she slips off the chair and exits my room without another word. Leaving me alone with my marching orders and a brain racing to find a way to carry them out.

It's time for me to get to work.

Ashton 'Ash' Drysden-13 (District 11 Male)

I still can't believe how big and pretty this train is. I had heard stories about them, but I never thought they were true. How could they be? How could anyone possibly pack every little thing a person could ever want or need into such a small space?

But they did, I've seen it. My bedroom here on the train is bigger than most of the houses in my neighborhood, and it has a bathroom with running water in it. It's just amazing to see. And it's not the only thing that's amazing either. The lounge car has five fireplaces, FIVE!

I wish I had more time to explore everything. I know there are a whole bunch of other amazing things out there just waiting for me to find them. But I don't have time — Because Olympia and Kaetus want Cassis and me to sit down with them and start talking about the Games — Which is the last thing in the world I want to do.

The longer I don't think about the Games, the less time I have to get scared. And the less time I have to get scared, the easier it will be for me to get through the next few days without having a meltdown like the one I had during my goodbyes.

Also, and I understand that they have no way of knowing this, Cassis and I have already sort of decided on what we want to do. Nothing is set in stone or anything, but we have a pretty good idea of what we want to do and how we want to do it. It's just a matter of one of us telling them that.

Which is the tricky part. Because Kaetus won't stop talking long enough for either of us to tell him what we've come up with. He won't even stop talking long enough for Olympia to say something, and she's the one who is supposed to be helping him with this.

It's almost like he's too wired to stop talking. But I can't figure out why that would be the case.

"Now, I know this is all still a bit overwhelming for the two of you, but we really do need to start working on a plan. Or at the very least, the basic outline of a plan."

"Actually," whispers Cassis, his voice low and shaky as he darts his eyes between me and Kaetus.

"Going into training blind is a recipe for disaster," he says, ignoring Cassis. "You only have three days to train as it is, and the last thing you can afford to do is waste one or more of them trying to figure out what to do."

"But Cassis and I already have a ..."

"That's why it's vital that you come up with a plan of attack before training starts. That way, you don't have to waste a second trying to do it on the fly.

"Any questions so far?"

"No. But would you like to hear the plan Cassis and I have ..."

"In that case, I think it's time for us to give our tributes a little break. Don't you, Kaetus?"

Oh, for the love of, I wish they would stop interrupting us."

"No, I don't," he says, his voice hard and just a little angry as he tries to stare her down. "We just started, and we haven't covered anything of value."

"I understand that, but you're clearly not ready to have this talk with them. You're all over the place right now, and it's not helping."

"I am not all over the place."

Yes, he is. He's covered ten different topics in the last three minutes, and he's interrupted us twice in the last thirty seconds. It would honestly be funny if it didn't make my brain want to explode.

"Yes, you are, Kaetus," she groans, her tone low and annoyed but still perfectly respectful.

I'll need to ask her how she does that. It could come in handy in the future.

"I guess this is one of those situations where we're going to have to agree to disagree. And, since it involves my tributes, we're going to go with my plan. Ok?"

"Excuse me," I whisper, raising my hand into the air like I do in school when I'm trying to get my teacher's attention.

"They're not your tributes, Kaetus — they're our tributes. And I'm not going to sit here while you scattershot this because you're too weird to think straight."

"I am not too wired to think straight. And another thing, who are you to tell me how to mentor my ..."

"Excuse me!" I scream — Causing both of them to jump and drawing a worried look from Cassis.

"Yes, Ash?" they ask in unison.

"I hate to interrupt, but Cassis and I already have a plan. Or, at least, the beginnings of one."

"You do?" asks Kaetus, staring at me with a shocked look on his face.

"Yes, we do," I say proudly.

"Why didn't you tell us this earlier?" asks Olympia. Her eyes fixed firmly on me while Cassis fidgets nervously on the couch next to me.

"We tried to, but we kept getting interrupted. And Cassis and I both think it's rude to interrupt someone when they're talking."

"And normally it would be," sighs Olympia. "But not in this case. Right, Kaetus?"

"Right. I appreciate the fact that you wanted to let us finish, but in the future, just speak up. We're not going to get upset or anything."

"Are you sure?" asks Cassis, his voice so low I almost can't hear him even though he's sitting right next to me.

"Of course, I am. I mean, we would have to be pretty lousy at our jobs to get mad at our tributes for interrupting us for something like this. Right?"

That's a rhetorical question, and I know it, so I'm not going to answer it. Instead, I continue to sit here quietly, my eyes darting from Cassis to Olympia, to Kaetus, and back again as I wait patiently for someone to say something.

And, eventually, Olympia does just that.

"So, would the two of you care to share your plan with us? Or is it a secret?"

"It's not a secret," says Cassis, his voice somehow even quieter than it was before. "But you should really ask Ash about it. He's the one who can explain it."

"Alright then. Ash, would you care to walk Olympia and me through what you have so far?"

"I would be happy to."

Luciana Bay-17 (District 10 Female)

How could I have been so stupid? I mean, sure, I was in a bad place, but that's not an excuse. Being scared and confused is never an excuse to screw something up as monumentally as I screwed this up.

I had a golden opportunity to cash in huge before I ever boarded this stupid train. To cement myself as a genuine contender to win the games before ever setting foot in the Capitol. But I threw it all away. Why? So I could tell my dad what I really thought of him?

I mean, sure, it felt good to tell him how I really felt. After years of bottling up my emotions and pretending that his selfishness didn't bother me, it was liberating to stand there and tell him where he could stick his money and his help. But it was so stupid.

Would I do it again if I had the chance? Probably. I'm legitimately stupid and stubborn enough about this to make the same mistake again. Even though I know doing so is tantamount to suicide. And I'll never be able to forgive myself for that.

Of course, that's not the worst part of all this. No, the worst part is I was actually stupid enough to not only tell my escort and my mentor that my dad had offered to help me — But that I turned him down. Which led to Aurelius losing his freaking mind on me.

Which is how I got where I am now. Sitting on the cold tile of the bathroom floor in my little room here on the train with the shower running on full blast in an attempt to drown out his screaming. Not that it's working all that well, mind you. He is, if nothing else, a spectacular screamer.

Eventually, it all gets to be too much for me, and I bury my face in my knees and drift off into a quasi-sleep with the rhythmic pounding of the water ringing clear and loud in my ears and Aurelius's screams echoing softly in the background. Though, my dreams aren't much better than my reality.

In one of them, I'm bleeding out in the middle of the arena as a sponsor parachute flutters down towards me with the life-saving medical supplies that I so desperately need clearly visible. Only to have my dad float down on another parachute and rip it away at the last second. And that's by far the best one that I have.

Still, I manage to drift off long enough for the once scalding hot water to turn cold and for Aurelius to give up and stop screaming at me through the door before my dreams finally get bad enough to scare me awake.

"How long was I out," I mumble to myself, reaching up and turning off the water before rolling over onto my knees and crawling over to my bed. "I wonder if it's safe for me to go out?"

To be honest, there's a part of me that isn't all that interested in finding out. And it would be more than happy if I pulled myself up onto my bed and drifted off to sleep. And for a second, it feels like that part might actually get what it wants. But then my stomach growls.

So, I force myself to stand up on my jello-like legs, pull my hair back into a messy bun, carefully stumble over to my door, and punch in the code to unlock and open it. All of which takes me maybe ten seconds but feels like it takes a lifetime.

"There you are," squeaks Luna.

Shit, now I almost wish that it had taken a lifetime. Oh well.

"Here I am," I say, squaring my shoulders and looking her straight in the eye. "Are you here to scream at me too?"

"No," she says, raising her hands in surrender as she takes a couple of small steps towards me. "I'm just here to talk."

"Oh, now you want to talk?" I growl, rolling my eyes as I take an instinctive half-step back towards the dark and safe confines of my room.

"I always wanted to talk, it was Aurelius who didn't."

"Fantastic. What do you want to talk about?" I ask, even though I'm pretty sure that I already know the answer.

"Your reasons for refusing your father's help in the arena," she says, taking another handful of steps towards me and placing herself firmly in my doorway with her arms crossed loosely over her chest. "Among other things."

"I've already tried to talk to you guys about that, Luna. It's not my fault that Aurelius lost his mind and chased me out of the room before I had the chance to explain myself."

"You're right," she sighs, "and I'm sorry for that. I'm sorry that I let him react the way he did. I'm sorry that I didn't make him give you a chance to explain why you did what you did. But I'm ready to do it now. And he's ready to listen."

"Then why isn't he here? Why are you telling me this instead of him?"

"Because he's too proud and stubborn to admit that he overreacted."

"Then maybe I'm too proud to explain it to him," I growl, walking back into my room and throwing myself onto my bed. My stomach roaring angrily at this unacceptable, food depriving turn of events.

"If that's your choice, then so be it. But if you don't mind me making a suggestion?"

"Would it matter if I said no?" I mumble, burying my face in my pillow.

"Probably not," she giggles, taking my non-combative response as an invitation to come into my room and keep talking. "Though the advice will be more useful if it falls on receptive ears," she says, gently pushing the button to close and lock my door before slowly making her way over to my bed.

"Fine then," I groan, pushing myself up off my pillow and into a sitting position as she sits down on the bed next to me. "What's your suggestion?"

"That you don't let your foolish pride get between you and the people trying to help you," she coos, running her hand gently up and down my back in the same comforting way my mom used to do when I was a kid. "Your pride isn't worth your life, Luciana."

"This isn't just about my disagreement with Aurelius, is it?"

"No," she admits, her big golden eyes brimming with concern as she looks up into my soft brown ones from her seat on the bed. "To be honest, your disagreement with Aurelius is a bump in the road at best. And a couple of kind words over dessert tonight will go a long way towards smoothing things over with him."

"Ok, that takes care of Aurelius. What about my dad?" I ask, fighting back the urge to cry. "How do I fix what happened with him?"

"That one is a little trickier. I don't know your dad, but I do know men — Powerful, important, men. And in my experience, men like that need to have their egos stroked. Does that sound like your dad?"

It does. It really does. But I don't say so. I don't trust myself not to burst into tears. Instead, I offer her a small nod that causes her big, golden eyes to light up like the sun and a wry smile to spread across her lips.

"In that case, I have the perfect plan. One that involves a very public tribute interview and a tearful, gut-wrenching apology from a terrified daughter to a loving father."

Oz Channer-17 (District 3 Male)

I can't believe how easy it is to manipulate Numerius and her stupid cousin Callidus. I mean, I didn't really expect it to be all that difficult. I'm a master at pushing people's buttons, and the people of the Capitol have some of the most obvious, easy-to-push buttons imaginable. But I still didn't think it would be this easy.

I've only been working on them for a few hours. But in that time, I've managed to charm and flatter my way so deeply into their good graces that I've basically got them eating out of the palm of my hand. And I'm only slightly exaggerating about that.

Unfortunately, the same cannot be said for Cypher, who I can't seem to get a read on one way or the other. And it's not like I haven't tried. Hell, I've put more work into him over the last few hours than I have Numerius and Callidus combined. But he flat-out refuses to open up enough for me to get a read on him. And I can't for the life of me figure out why.

Not that it really matters. At some point, I am going to figure him out. I'm entirely too smart to be stumped by someone as bright as Cypher for very long. So it really is only a matter of time until I get him to slip up just enough for me to pounce, and then it's all over. He will be my ally. He just doesn't know it yet. …

"There you are," says Callidus, the annoyed tone of his voice somewhat offset by the relieved smile on his face.

"Here I am," I say, setting my copy of Champions of Panem down on the little table next to me and looking up at my mentor. "Right where I've been for the last hour."

"Huh," he says, a confused look on his face. "Are you sure you've been here for that long? Because I could have sworn that I was in here looking for you a few minutes ago."

"Not that I noticed," I say, suppressing the urge to roll my eyes at the stupidity of the question. Or possibly the intelligence of the man asking it — Either is fine.

"Huh, well, I'll be a monkey's uncle."

That's unlikely. Most monkeys are smarter than Callidus.

"Anyway, I'm here to get you for dinner. Cypher and Numerius are waiting for us in the dining car."

"Oh, what are we having?" I ask, my voice light and excited as I jump out of my chair and fall in step a few paces behind Callidus as he blazes a trail out of the lounge car and through the sleeper car.

"Seafood, I think."

"I've never had seafood before," I lie.

"Then you're in for a treat. The chef we have on the train with us — who will be our chef in the Capitol, just FYI — is a seafood master. He does this thing with a ravioli and crab, that is just. ..."

I'm honestly not paying too much attention to what Callidus is saying at this point. I could seriously care less what kind of food-related magic our chef is capable of pulling off. Right now, the only thing I care about is cracking the Cypher mystery so I can start putting the rest of my plan into action.

Of course, I'm not going to tell him that. Instead, I just nod along with his ramblings at random intervals until we finally reach the door that separates the sleeper car from the dining car.

"It's about time, you two. We were just about to start without you," says Numerius, an annoyed look on her face to match the annoyance in her words.

"It didn't take me that long to find him, you big baby."

"You've been gone for half an hour, Callidus."

Seriously? It took this moron half an hour to search one car and my room in the sleeper car? How? Did he get lost?

"It's my fault, Numerius. I was hiding in a corner so I could read the book you and your cousin assigned me in peace."

I can tell that she doesn't believe me, but at least she has the good sense not to call me out on it — Opting instead to roll her eyes before leaning forward and passing a plate of fish over to Cypher.

"Well, you didn't miss anything. Cypher and I were just talking about his less-than-stellar relationship with his family. Right Cypher?"

Cypher doesn't answer her, but his eyes and his body language tell me everything I need to know. Cypher has a family issue, and it's a big enough issue that he's uncomfortable talking about it. That's my in. Now all I have to do is figure out how to use it.

But that can wait. Right now, I need to get a piece of that fish. It looks delicious.