"We should find a place to set up camp." I peer across the rocks for another tunnel, but I can't see anything promising from here. "It'll be dark soon."

"That's true." Klavier takes a slow look around before pushing himself back to his feet. He steps over to pick up Ema.

Trucy wipes some crumbs off her lap and stands up. "How is she doing?"

"I still haven't caught her with her eyes open." He frowns and checks her pulse. "Fast, but not too dangerous yet." With an exhale, he starts to hoist her up.

"Hold it." I offer a hand. "You haven't been walking too steadily since the battle. Maybe you shouldn't..."

He smiles. "The same could be said of you."

I pin my hair spikes to my scalp until they spring back. "I just beat up my knee a little bit..." And the rest of me, but I don't think that messes up my walking as much. "I think I could handle her for a while. Here, you can carry her share of dinner."

"All right." We exchange loads, and I only get a minute to regret my choice before we're moving on.

Ema failing to open her eyes doesn't mean she's been unconscious the whole time. But it still doesn't sound good. She doesn't have a fever, and it doesn't look like her wound has bled much, either. Maybe she's just exhausted? She wasn't in that last battle at all, though, and she didn't do any heavy lifting with the mutts. I don't know what's going on. I hope she's all right, though.

We've struggled ahead for several minutes when a cave comes into view. It's clearly nowhere as deep as our last shelter, but it should be enough to keep us out of the other tributes' view. At least, if they're on this mountain. If they're across from us, we wouldn't be as lucky. Win some, lose some.

"Got enough action today, didn't we?" I park it at the right side of the entrance and set Ema down as carefully as I can.

"More than enough," Trucy sighs, lifting her hat for a moment to brush her hair out with her fingers. "I could sleep straight through my watch if I'm not careful."

"That probably goes for all of us." Klavier leans back against the cave wall and looks out at the mountain across from us. "How long do you think the Careers will leave us alone?"

"They didn't seem very pleased with letting us retreat, did they?" I press on my forehead. "If Fulbright gets his way, I guess we're safe until it would be a fair fight. So, after we've all recovered." It would still be in the Careers' favor then, but they might be able to convince him otherwise.

Klavier glances at the clouds. "With everything that's happened today, I imagine our lovely viewers have enough to chew on. Perhaps we can afford one night without watches."

Hmm... "That sounds pretty risky, though."

"Riskier than foregoing rest when any of us might fall asleep, anyway?" He smiles, tilting his upper half toward me. "Tell you what. You can lie down closest to the outside since you're so good at waking everyone. I'm sure that's all the precaution we need."

I cross my arms with a narrow-eyed look of disbelief. "So your plan is to throw me to the wolves. Great."

He chuckles, while Trucy sits down between us. "I mean, people can only watch one performer—or group!—for so long," she says. "If they need more entertainment, they can chase some of the others around for a little bit. I think we've earned at least one night's sleep."

Klavier snaps. "Sounds reasonable."

I squint at the sky. It's not like I don't want to get a good night's sleep; it just seems like an inherently bad idea. I feel like tributes tend to get breaks once they've been run down a bit... But we did get the Careers right after he mutts. I guess it could be chance. So long as the Careers don't want to give us a boring few death blows in our sleep and the Gamemakers don't drive anything else toward us, we'll be fine.

I'm still not sure about the whole idea when a donation crosses my field of vision. The parachute is pretty big, and once the mass of dark grey is within reach, I can distinguish the individual sleeping bags. They hit the ground softly, and I snag the parachute before the whole parcel can slide down the slope.

Trucy hops to her feet and helps me pull the bags up. There are four bedrolls and a small package on top that turns out to be a knee brace.

"What, do I have a few sponsors after all?" I take the brace out of the packaging as Trucy separates the sleeping bags.

"It could have come from my funds. We are allies." Klavier accepts his sleeping bag from Trucy with a thanks.

"Just because you have sponsors doesn't mean no one else does," I mutter under my breath as Trucy rolls out a bag next to Ema.

"Actually, there are only so many people betting on tributes." He snaps. "The more people backing me, the fewer there are behind anyone else."

That's his strategy, huh? Must be why he's so concerned with his image, enough to lie about why he volunteered. He's... playing the Games on a whole different level.

I wonder if it was his brother's idea.

Trucy frowns at Klavier. "So you think my burn cream was from your sponsors?"

"Nein." He smiles. "I'm sure there are plenty of people yet to back a Fräulein as beautiful as yourself."

She beams again. "Okay."

I cross my arms. "Oh, but I can't have any sponsors?"

He turns to grin at me. "I'm afraid that, between me and Fräulein Magician, there just isn't any money left to bet on you."

I can see the tips of my hair spikes as they droop. "Great."

Trucy laughs. "Oh, don't take it so seriously, Polly. We're just joking around with you."

"I kind of wish you wouldn't."

Her only response is detaching the sleeping bags from each other. "Only four, huh? How should we split these up, I wonder?"

"Seems like we could afford five, but..." I rest my hand in the bend of my elbow and poke my forehead. "I guess Ema can't really feel the difference at the moment."

Arms folded, Trucy looks over at the 7 girl. "I guess not..."

She starts to unroll one of the sleeping bags before Klavier suddenly frowns. "Well, she'll be able to tell the difference when she wakes up."

"Oh!" Trucy gasps. "You're right. She can have mine."

"Nein, I couldn't possibly allow that." He gives Trucy a smile. "Take mine."

"Are you sure? I know you could at least use a pillow with your head hurting so much."

He pulls his bangs forward and lets them fall back. "I'll be fine. Believe me, I'd have more trouble sleeping knowing that a Fräulein is lying on the cold, hard rocks when I could have prevented it."

"Actually..." I pull a rolled-out bag toward me and check out the zipper. "It wasn't that cold last night. We probably don't need it over us, so we can unzip all of them and cover the whole cave floor."

"Ah!" Klavier watches me butterfly the first sleeping bag. "You're right."

Heck yeah, I am. Maybe you would have thought of it eventually, if you weren't so busy trying to impress all of the girls.

"On a different note—" he turns to Jinxie, who's standing in the middle of the cave with her bedroll clutched to her chest—"how are you doing? Think you'll manage some rest tonight?"

She takes a small step back and stands there. He sighs and starts to unroll his sleeping bag.

"Hmm... District 8. I'm sure I know something from District 8..."

Blinking, Trucy looks at him. "What do you mean, 'something'?"

"A song, of course."

I slouch. "She's panicked about people getting killed in the Hunger Games, and you serenading her is supposed to fix that?"

He chuckles, rolling his eyes. "Love song or otherwise, music has a magic power. Often it's our one chance for escape."

It's a little lyrical, but I guess he has a point.

He eventually starts a song Jinxie seems to recognize as we arrange our sleeping bags in the little cave space we have. Ema's tucked away in the back, but the rest of us are still outside when the song ends.

Trucy glances at the cushioning layer before walking over to Jinxie. "Do you want a spot in the middle?"

Blinking, Jinxie looks over at the floor of the cave.

"There's a space for you right here, okay?" Trucy takes her elbow and, since Jinxie doesn't flinch, pulls her into the cave. The 8 doesn't reply, but she at least manages to sit on a good spot. Maybe the music helped a little after all. Still not much, but better than nothing.

The blare of the anthem makes me start, and I hurry to get the clipboard out. Locating the correct end of the pen from the gleam of the projection, I turn to face the Capitol seal. It's a lot cloudier tonight, but there are still a few stars behind the image.

My grip on the ten tightens.

I—I don't know if I can handle this again—!

Swallowing, I force myself to take a deep breath. I may have missed a cannon or two in the chaos today, but none of the faces are going to be Clay's. I'm not reliving any of it tonight. I'm fine.

First up is Sasha, which is no surprise to us.

"Who even killed her?" I look over my shoulder at the others.

Trucy frowns, gripping her fingers. "Well, I didn't do it... Klavier?"

He crosses his legs. "Wasn't me. I snared her sword once, but I never actually landed a hit on her."

Neither of them seems to be lying... But who else could have gotten her? Her own teammates? Weren't they at least mostly busy with us?

A cannon fires before her face fades from the sky. Shoulder stiffening, I glance to see if something happened near here, but there are no other tributes or hovercrafts visible.

I turn back to the display to see Ema's face.

A frozen moment passes before all of us rush into the cave. Jinxie presses herself to the wall as Klavier hurtles past her to pull Ema's shoulders up and prop her against the wall. I turn the flashlight on as Trucy checks the pulse at Ema's neck. I don't see any blood on the sleeping bags, but they are kind of dark. The air only smells of sweat and dirt, though.

"I-I swear there's still something there!" Trucy leans over to check Ema's wrist.

I tug her Luminol glasses off and hold one of the lenses close to her mouth.

—There! There's a little bit of fogging!

"She's still breathing!" I jam the glasses back in place. Klavier straightens them as I pull Ema's jacket and part of her shirt up to check the wound. It really doesn't look any different.

But she's not dead yet! We must be able to do something! What, though? Is there an infection to clean out? Is there another wound somewhere else we need to patch up?

"How's her pulse?" I bark as I check her forehead. Cool, a little clammy. Definitely doesn't feel like fever. So, no infection? Then what—

"I'm not sure." Trucy swallows, gripping Ema's wrist harder. "I-if it's still there, it's really weak..." She tries Ema's neck again.

"Get up, both of you."

Drawing back, I turn my head toward Klavier and frown. "What?"

"Get up. Leave her alone."

"Wh-what?!" Trucy gives him a look of disbelief. "But she's still alive! We can still..."

"Still do what?" He scowls. "She's clearly terminal if her cannon has fired. We've been given no medication, so her only chance, if she even has one, would be some kind of major operation. I don't suppose either of you is a licensed surgeon?"

At the age of 16? "Of course not. But—!"

"But what? The Gamemakers have already declared her dead." His look darkens further. "And it looks like our second opinion is about to concur."

I turn to Trucy, whose shoulders are stiff.

"Maybe I just..." She moves her fingers a little higher up on Ema's neck, but it's clear she doesn't feel any difference.

"You take her legs. Trucy, you handle that side." He grips Ema's right shoulder and slips a hand under her back.

"But..." Trucy clasps her hands together, pulling them to her chest.

"Would you rather leave her here to rot?" he snaps.

She flinches back and, after a moment, shakily mirrors his movements. I grip Ema's legs just above the ankle, and we carefully carry her out. Once we're all out of the cave, we lower her onto the rocks. I can see Klavier and Trucy pull back out of the corner of my eye, but I haven't let go yet.

We brought her body here for the hovercraft to pick up. She's dead. She's actually dead.

My gaze slides up to her face, only dimly lit by the flashlight I left in the cave. Pale, worn, motionless—a shadow of the face that was smiling down at us a minute ago.

How... H-how did this...

I realize I'm trembling, but there's nothing I can do about it.

Seeing her face before knowing she was dead was a shock, but it's not entirely unexpected. She's been in bad condition since we first ran into her here. I should... I should be be halfway prepared for this. Anyone could have seen it coming from a mile away.

But... But...! What on earth made it okay for her to die?! What did she do to deserve this—what did any of us do? Sure, going out of her way for the forensics kit wasn't the most rational move, but that doesn't mean she has to die for it!

And what did Clay do? What did anyone in this arena do to deserve this?! Be a district kid? And that means we can die whenever the Capitol wants us to? No matter who we actually are, no matter what kinds of people we are, no matter what dreams we have... All of that is nothing?

"Apollo...?"

I recognize the hand gripping my arm as Trucy's.

"The... hovercraft is waiting."

I don't know why I'm gripping Ema's ankles so hard, but it takes me a minute to let go. Even then, Trucy has to give me a tug to get me to step back.

The hovercraft claw comes down with a faint creak and closes around Ema. Her hair drifts down as it ascends and takes her away.

Choking, I hunch over, gripping my elbows.

Ema...