Why did Teff have to die like that?

The boy's horrible death is burned into my core. The sounds and images stay with me, nagging at me, as I slog along the network of caverns, doggedly following the other tribute's scratched marks. This entire place is engineered to respond to the most minute whim of the Gamemakers. They could have finished him any time after he stepped into the trap, or at least when it was obvious he was not going to survive being impaled. Why was it necessary to let the whole tortuous thing play out?

Why is it necessary to let the whole tortuous Hunger Games play out?

My eyes are moist again. I am profoundly ashamed that I could not muster the nerve to end his suffering myself. I don't know why I couldn't. A moment before he fell, I was ready to attack him and cut his throat.

I'm so absorbed in my thoughts that I almost run straight into the end of a blocked tunnel. I'm confused for a moment, and dumbly extend my hand to make sure that the wall of boulders is real. There is a blaze a few feet in front of the wall, indicating that the maker had gone this way. The other wall shows no marks. So the tribute did not come to this dead end and turn around. He actually passed through while the tunnel was still open.

Did the cave-in block this passage? I doubt it. The trap that Teff fell into was still pristine, perfectly baited and set. I doubt that the plastic film would have remained in place with so much falling rock hitting it. It was also not covered with dust. I think it was made after the cave-in. So the walls are shifting? Suddenly it makes sense. The Gamemakers are herding the remaining tributes to some prearranged point for the "grand finale." Well, I'm ready. I'm ready for these Games to be over, one way or another.

I remember some of the assorted bits and pieces that I had found in my backpack earlier, while I was trapped at the bottom of the large pit. I unsling my bag and rummage through it, revealing my prize, a short pencil. At the bottom of the cave wall where the other tribute's trail marker should have been, I draw my own lines. If the walls really are being moved to direct me, it might be helpful to know where I've already been, so I can choose a new passageway if I cross my own path.

I mark every hundred feet or so. I never actually find any of my own prior marks, but I do run into more newly-blocked tunnels. It is while I am marking one of these that I feel a sudden alarm. Perhaps it's a subtle movement of the air, a faint smell, or a flicker of reflected light, but I bolt upright with my knife in my hand. Gaius spots me at the same instant and brandishes his club. The huge, ape-like boy is filthy, covered in that rank, drying cave mud. He has a long, partially healed cut across his forehead, and he's still limping from Fia's kick to his knee. We stand looking at each other for probably a full minute. Finally, he lowers his weapon a bit, peering at me warily. "I don't want to do this right now," he says heavily, his voice a worn rumble.

"I don't either," I say, privately sighing with relief. "I've had enough for one day, I think."

"Me too." Gaius glances past me, into the blind tunnel. "Let's stop here for a bit. I'm tired, and you probably are too." He chuckles at the incredulous expression that must have been on my face. "Don't worry. I wouldn't expect anyone here to let me watch over them while they sleep. I just want to sit for a while and rest."

"Truce," I agree, nodding.

We sit on our rolled sleeping bags, near the rock wall at the end of the tunnel. Gaius lowers himself stiffly, settling with his injured leg extended. Since we are so close to the end of the Games anyway, I offer Gaius some of the last of my food from the Cornucopia, a few crackers, and a mouthful of dessicated fruit bits and broken pieces of nuts. I keep the bag of food I took from the baited trap out of sight in my pack. Gaius doesn't know I have those, and I don't want to reveal everything that I'm carrying. He declines the crackers, but his eyes light up when he sees the nuts. "Those are my favorite," he says, picking several pieces from my hand. "We have nut trees back home."

"Oh? I didn't know they grew on trees."

"Some do." He gives a soft snort, like a repressed laugh. At my questioning look, he says, "I was always too big to climb the trees. Late in the season, when most of the nuts were gone, I would bribe little kids to climb up and knock some down for me."

"What would you give them?"

He looks a little sheepish. "Piggyback rides."

I start to laugh, I can't help it. I'm struck by a sudden mental image of Gaius carrying a squealing child…or children, he's so big…on his back and galloping around. "I have a little brother," I tell him, when I can finally speak. "He would do almost anything for a piggyback ride."

"I don't have any brothers or sisters. My Pah is a Peacekeeper, but he's been assigned to another district since I was little."

"What about your mother?"

"I don't remember my Mah. I came up with my Ante Flavie, at least until she had to take me to school," Gaius states matter-of-factly. He is obliquely referring to District 2's training system, that he doesn't dare mention out loud in case we are on camera. Which we probably are.

"I lived with my Mother, my Father, my two little sisters, and of course, my little brother. I haven't seen much of them in years, though."

Gauis grunts, nodding. "I didn't see Ante Flavie for a long time, until Reaping Day."

He looks so sorrowful that I do not want to ask him more about that meeting, or about Reaping Day.

Gaius tosses the nuts into his mouth all at once, as if they were just any regular old food and not his favorite. But he chews them with obvious pleasure. "These are good, thank you," he says, licking the dust from his dirty fingers. I notice, but the act doesn't bother me as much as it might have before the Games. "You seem to like the apricots," Gaius remarks, pointing out that I have eaten them all.

There weren't many of them to start with, but he's right, and I smile. "Probably because they are my faction color."

"Your faction?" he prompts.

"More like a social club. Families tend to pledge to the same color, but there are no hard and fast rules."

"And yours is yellow."

"That's right."

I want to talk to him, really talk to him. I want to ask him if he saw any of the purposeful scratches on the walls, or ran into any traps. I want to ask if he knows who is still alive. More than anything, I want to ask this boy who might have been my friend in other circumstances what he thinks of everything that's happened, and to try to make sense of it with him. But I don't. His eyes look too haggard, too full of sights that no one should have to see, and deep shame for having done things that no one should have to do. When he said that he was tired, I understood exactly what he meant. We both need to seize a segment of normalcy, to pretend for a short time that we are only a boy and a girl sharing a snack, even though it's just scraps. Perhaps this respite is madness, but it cannot be more mad than a boy and a girl who will eventually be forced to kill each other, for reasons that have little to do with themselves.

"Dazzle? Um…is that your real name?"

I'm stupefied. Gaius looks embarrassed, and holds up both hands placatingly. "I'm sorry. I just always wanted to ask someone from District 1 about their names."

"It's true, that's my real name." I'm not really offended, but the question surprised me. "My sisters are Shine and Satin, and my brother is Lapis."

"Those are pretty names. Lapis is a blue stone, right?"

I nod, pleased that he knows about it. "The best lapis is deep blue, with gold veins. It's just a stone to most people, but it used to be symbolic of intelligence, and the ability to think clearly. So naming a baby "Lapis" means you hope he'll have them too."

"What about your name?"

"It comes from a word that means "to tire the sight." I guess giving that name to a girl means that you hope she's beautiful enough to make everyone go nearsighted?"

Gaius laughs out loud, holding one gigantic hand against his belly. "Or if she's ugly, everyone will be too blinded to notice!"

"Does your name mean anything?" I ask when my laughter subsides.

"I don't think so," Gaius says after a moment's thought. "Most of our names are like those from the Capitol, and we tend not to have last names. Well, not given, family names. I might earn a second name later, when I…"

…grow up.

The unfinished sentence hangs in the air between us. At least one of us is not going to survive the Hunger Games, maybe neither of us will. My gaze drops to the floor. Our respite is broken.

I hear him swallow hard, then sigh. He takes up his sleeping roll and backpack and stands, looming like a stone pillar. His features have hardened back into those of the brutal, ape-like savage I saw back at the Training Center, but his voice is gentle when he speaks. "Thank you, Dazzle."

For a few moments, I had been able to stop thinking about my hunger, my exhaustion, Teff, and my dying family. I don't know what I could say that would possibly convey enough gratitude to him. "Thank you, Gaius. I hope I don't see you soon."

He nods curtly, and is gone.