We were taken to a tower in the Training Centre where all the tributes would be living for the next week. In the centre, a glass elevator led to floors 1 through to 12. Each District had their own floor, and both were the same number. So we were on Floor 11, where a fancy, white living area was complete with plush sofas surrounding a TV screen and coffee table, and glass walls looked out over the centre of the Capitol. Everywhere was controlled by technology, even the windows, that could zoom into any part of the Capitol you wanted.

Circa led me to my own room, which was every bit as huge and intimidating as the one back in the Remake Centre. She helped me climb carefully out of my dress and take most of the make-up off, which relieved me to no extent. I was starting to get worried it would dry and stick my expression into one of permanent arrogance.

"There you go," she smiled softly at me as I wrapped another robe around my body. "Find something comfortable to wear for supper and meet us all outside when you're ready, okay? The Opening Ceremony will be being shown on repeat tonight." She let herself out before I could object, probably sensing my reluctance.

All I really wanted to do was climb into the sheets and curl up in the huge, very comfortable looking bed, but I resigned myself to doing as I was told and found a thin, comfortable looking white dress. I pulled it on quickly and left my hair braided over my shoulder, slipping back out of the room and making my way to dining area.

A large dining table sat in front of a balcony over-looking the busy streets of the Capitol. Our prep teams were nowhere to be seen, but Klaus, Circa and Flynn were already there, beside Seeder and Chaff. Layton sat at the end of the table, prodding his food with a sickly look.

"Ah, there you are Blake," Klaus smiled kindly. "Come. Sit down. The chicken soup is excellent tonight."

I lifted an eyebrow in mild surprise at his random topic of conversation, but scanning the looks of everyone else, I got the feeling no one was in the mood to talk about the Games. Unless you counted Flynn, of course, but no one ever seemed to. Unsure what else to do, I took a seat beside Chaff and accepedt a large bowl of chicken soup from the silent waitress.

The small talk over supper was almost unbearable. Layton stayed quiet the whole night, and despite their best intentions, I kept wishing someone would just mention the Hunger Games once. I knew now that we were in the Training Centre, everything was slowly becoming more real. Only days ago, I was sat in a care centre in District 11, worried about how I was supposed to survive on the rations they gave us there. And now, I was surrounded by food every second of the day, like an animal being fattened up before it was slaughtered.

Finally, fed up of the awkward atmosphere, I cleared my throat and pushed my soup away, the first time in years I'd turned away a meal. "So training starts tomorrow?"

Seeder and Chaff exchanged a look as Layton lifted his head, looking almost as relieved as I felt that the small talk had ended. "Yes," Seeder nodded. "You'll be training with the other tributes."

I nodded slowly, then wiped my mouth on a napkin. "Okay. Well, if you'll excuse me, I'm going to bed. You know, try and get some sleep before people start trying to kill me." Since no one could find an answer for that, I stood up and left the table, forgetting about the re-run of the Opening Ceremony and slipping back into my room.

I closed the door with a heavy sigh and let out a ragged breath, closing my eyes for a moment. I tried to focus on what had to be done, but it was beginning to get difficult. I'd promised Trey I'd try to get Layton out alive but . . . where did that leave Iris? The thought that I had to choose between the two of them was beginning to tear at my chest.

Stop thinking about it, I scolded, shaking the thoughts away. Everything changes in the Games. Oddly, that thought did nothing to comfort me. Peeling my clothes back off, I ran my fingers through my hair to untangle the braid and crawled in between the sheets, closing my eyes with another sigh.

It didn't surprise me in the slightest that I found it incredibly difficult to sleep. Twice, I woke up in a cold sweat, shivering and scanning the darkness awkwardly, sure I'd seen some horrific creature about to tear my throat out. But there was no creature, no danger. At least not yet. I was still in the same, comfortable room, and each time I woke, I had to turn the light on and pace frantically until the adrenaline in my system died down. Then I'd climb back into bed, shaking furiously and telling myself over and over that I was safe.

The fifth time I woke, I waited almost half an hour for the shaking to stop, but it refused. So I gave up, wrapped myself in a silk robe and slipped out of the room. I wasn't entirely sure if there were rules about wandering how the centre at three in the morning, but I wasn't planning on leaving this floor, so I figured I was more than likely safe.

I was surprised, however, to find Klaus perched on the sofa in the living area, his eyes fixed on the TV screen. He seemed to be watching re-runs of old Games, though for what, I wasn't entirely sure. There were a stack of tapes on the table in front of him and the empty box - obviously the Games he was watching at the moment - bore a label that read 'HG 51'.

I hesitated in the background, suddenly uncomfortable. I knew I should have let Klaus know that I was there, but I couldn't tear my eyes away from the screen. It seemed to be recapping the highlights of the Victor for that year, and I realised with a jolt I recognised her. It was Ione Porter, one of the mentors for District 4. She couldn't have been very old in the Games, maybe fifteen at most. She was reasonably short, with a lithe figure characteristic of the Career Districts, and long, blonde hair had been braided strictly and pinned to the back of her head in a bun. Crystal blue eyes shone alertly as she moved through the arena, a sword strapped to her back and a malice in her hand.

Watching it was obviously troubling Klaus. His eyebrows were tight in concern, and he kept turning the remote for the TV in his hands, like he wanted to turn it off, but couldn't. Pursing my lips, I cleared my throat pointedly, and he jumped, turning to face me.

"Blake," he blinked, obviously surprised to see me. "Aren't you supposed to be sleeping?"

I managed a small smile as I stepped forward and sit down beside him. "Can't," I admitted quietly. He lifted an eyebrow. "Well, don't tell anyone," I smirked slightly.

He smiled wearily. "You know the Capitol is already talking about you? You made quite an impression last night."

I snorted feebly. "I try my best." He took my hand and squeezed gently. My lips twisted. "What are you watching?"

"Oh, just some of my old tributes," he shrugged quietly, flicking the TV over. This year's Opening Ceremony flickered into view, and I was met by the warm, pearly glow of my own dress.

"Yours?" I blinked, taking in the stack of tapes with an unsettled feeling. "You . . . how long have you been doing this? You can't be that old!"

His lips twitched. "I've been working on tributes for a long time, Blake," he smiled softly. "It's how I met Circa, actually. She used to be the stylist for other Districts, always in competition with me."

"She ever win?" I asked with a small smile.

He laughed lightly and pointed at the screen. "Always. I think she still is."

"Well, she can't take all the credit," I smirked. "I do wear that dress very well."

Klaus chuckled softly. "Yes, you do." He hesitated again, spinning the remote in his hands. "Ione Porter, the tribute you saw just then, was my first ever tribute. I was only eighteen myself. It was considered quite an achievement, being given District 4 on my first year."

"And now down to 11," I sighed sarcastically. "Terrible."

"I asked to be here this year," he informed me, fixing me with a stern look, and I started in surprise.

"Why?" I scoffed. "Everyone knows the last few Districts are awful to work with!"

He nudged my elbow gently. "You aren't."

"You'll be making me blush next," I laughed shortly.

"Somehow I doubt that," he smiled. "You're a very unusual girl, Blake. A lot of the Capitol are already beginning to wonder if they shouldn't be backing you instead of the Careers this year."

I hesitated. For one, it was a little early to be saying I had any sort of chance against the Careers. For another, technically speaking, I was a Career, having been raised to fight this exact battle. And lastly, I wasn't even trying to get out alive. I was trying to keep someone else alive, which by my reckoning, just made it harder.

"Don't worry too much about it," he grimaced at me, squeezing my hand again. "If they back you, that's their decision, and it'll only make your Games easier." For some reason, I doubted anything would make these Games easy, but I didn't tell him that. Instead, I settled back and watched the Opening Ceremony in silence.

It took a while for the others to wake up and start moving. The first sign of life was a surprisingly irritable Chaff grumbling about wanting a glass of wine. Klaus rolled his eyes at me, and I smiled, excusing myself to get a shower and dress for the first day of training. I was hoping that by the time I'd finished, Chaff and Seeder would both at least be focused on our strategy before they chucked us to the wolves, but I tried not to dwell too much on how much our lives were in their hands. Instead, I focused on keeping up appearances.

After a hot shower that seemed to sear straight through to my bones, I dried my hair and scooped it up into a ponytail. It looked like either Circa or Ava had been in while I was showering to lay out my clothes for training; a tight pair of black trousers and a slim fitting soft, golden vest top. The sight made me smile as I pulled the top over my head, checking my reflection in the mirror. The gold only served to make me look healthier, standing against my sun-kissed skin. Shaking the thoughts away, I shoved my feet into a pair of sturdy combat boots and made my way to the dining table for breakfast.

By the time I got there, Chaff had perked up a bit, talking sternly to Layton under his breath. Seeder was sat at the other end of the table, and immediately hauled me into the seat beside her before I could move any closer to Layton.

"We've decided to train you separately," she told me simply, and my heart sank. How was I supposed to keep him alive if he was avoiding me? Then I remembered Iris and I wondered if I even wanted to. The thought made me nauseous, so I took a large gulp of water and dismissed it quickly.

Seeder watched me get settled for a moment, then faced me with a determined expression. "Okay, so first things first. Is there anything, anything at all, that you're really good at? Something that could help you and give you an advantage in the Games?"

I eyed her in thought for a moment. In all honesty, I had a lot. I was from District 4, after all. I'd been spear-fishing and baiting snares my whole life. Admittedly, I was always a little clumsy with a spear. I'd always found that sort of thing much easier with a bow and arrow, or a crossbow. Not that I'd often admitted to it. That just wasn't done where I was from. But, like a lot of the other kids in that District, I'd been extensively trained in hand-to-hand combat, could easily handle a sword, and was much more agile than I often gave myself credit for. Add to that the number of extras I'd picked up in District 11 - like what sort of berries could be used as food, and the sort of leaves and plants that could be used as medicine - and I was fairly confident in my own abilities.

But, short of admitting I was a Career kid, I couldn't really explain all that to Seeder. So instead, I shrugged a shoulder uncomfortably. "I'm fairly good with knives," I told her, which was a completely lie. I'd come across a wolf in the forest outside 11 once and managed to kill the beast with a tiny knife before it had some much as snarled. Fairly didn't quite cover it.

Seeder hesitated, then nodded once. "Well, when you get to the training area, I want you to focus on something you've never done before," she told me, and I nodded once, vaguely wondering if there was anything down there that I wouldn't have done before. "The more skills you can pick up - even the basics - the higher your chances of survival."

You're talking to a girl who doesn't plan on getting out of this, I mentally warned her, but I didn't even consider saying it out loud. I wasn't entirely sure how it could be against the rules, but I doubted the Capitol wanted the tributes going in to the Games with that kind of mentality.

Breakfast passed by with Chaff and Layton mumbling a conversation down at one end of the table, and Seeder and I at the other. I spent the whole time trying to deter many of Seeder's questions. The one thing I knew I couldn't admit to was being a Career, though I wondered vaguely if that would hold up when I was finally faced with Myles and Iris, both of whom knew me very well.

Finally, at ten o'clock, Flynn interrupted our conversations to take Layton and I down to the training rooms. From what I could tell, they were located under the ground floor, so we took the elevator straight down. The large doors opened directly into a large gymnasium filled with weapons, obstacle course, and of course, the tributes all hell bent on killing us. Layton shivered beside me, but Flynn gently pushed us out of the elevator and pushed the button to be taken back up to Floor 11.

The rest of the tributes had already arrived, and all had their District number pinned to their backs. The moment we stepped out, Layton and I were labelled with a number 11, just as an athletic looking woman stepped up to explain to us how the training worked. We had three days to master all the skills we wanted. It was forbidden for us to train against any of the actual tributes, and any attempt to physically harm each other just yet would be punished. While she spoke, I scanned the other tributes, being stood close enough to see everything for the first time. Many of the boys were a lot bigger than me, but I was on par with a lot of the girls. If anything, many of them were smaller. The District 12 tributes looked like they were in desperate need of several large meals.

When the woman finally finished speaking, I took a deep breath and turned to Layton cautiously. "You'll be okay?" I asked slowly. He nodded, trying to muster up as much courage as possible as he moved toward the weight station. I grimaced, privately thinking that he was being a little optimistic.

Deciding I might as well start somewhere, I started at the camouflage station. After an hour of messing around and thoroughly annoying the instructor, I excused myself and moved on. As I'd suspected, I wasn't bad at finding the plants I could and couldn't eat, or the ones that would aid healing, or the ones that were poisonous to touch. In fact, the instructor was quite impressed so, reasonably pleased I'd learnt so much since moving to District 11, I moved on again.

The problem was, where was I supposed to go next? If I wasn't supposed to be showing off, there was no point in doing too much. As I was debating this, I scanned the training arena thoughtfully. Most of the tributes were trying, like I was, not to attract too much attention. Over at the sword station, I could see Myles trying to show Iris how to hold one properly. Even from this distance, I could tell he was already losing patience with her. With a little difficulty, I restrained the urge to go over there.

Figuring I could at least do with refreshing myself slightly with the basics, I moved to the hand-to-hand combat, which was now empty. Pursing my lips, I stretched out my limbs, aware the Gamemakers were sat above the arena watching us, and stepped forward. The instructor there looked up as I neared. "Which District?" he asked lazily.

"11," I answered, and he looked mildly surprised.

"If you say so," he shrugged, straightening out to face me.

As it turned, I was still quite sharp when it came to my reflexes. The instructor was just as ruthless as any of the tributes here, so it was lucky that my reaction times made it easy for me to shift out of their way. My attacks were just as quick, and on more than a few occasions, I got the upper hand and managed to pin the instructor. After about an hour's practise, he began to get a little more enthusiastic.

"Nice!" he grinned, flashing all four of his teeth. "Fast paced, light on your feet. That's good! But you need more power behind it! Make sure you win every time!"

I gasped for breath, lifting an eyebrow. "You realise I just pinned you five out of six times, right?"

He grinned. "Now just make sure it's all six, and you've got it."

I decided he was probably right, and that I'd be better bulking up a bit at the weight station. But I'd barely taken a few steps toward the station when I noticed Layton. He was sat at the knot tying station where he was trying to create a snare, and looking at the frustration on his face, he wasn't getting very far. In fact, it looked like he was hurting himself more than he was creating anything. Worse still, the Careers were watching him, sniggering amongst themselves. Anger flashed through me, and before I knew what I was doing, I was striding straight toward Layton with a determined look.

"Here," I said shortly, snatching the equipment off him and shooting a glower in the Careers' direction. "Now watch closely, because I'm only showing you this once."

Layton glanced between me and the Careers worriedly. "And then?"

I snorted darkly. "Then I have some Career kids to put in their place."

I showed him what to do, slowly going through it step by step until he nodded uncertainly and took the equipment back from me. Then, without even thinking about what Seeder said about keeping a low profile, I straightened out and moved straight toward the sword training station, where the tributes from District 2, Yves and Lori, were stood with smug smirks, muttering about me between themselves.

This is a mistake, a small voice at the back of my head warned me, but I ignored it completely.

Instead, I stepped forward and snatched up one of the swords. Setting my expression, I moved toward the instructor and twirled the sword around in my hand expertly. Behind me, the voices faltered.

The instructor was a little braver. She straightened out and doubled her grip on her own weapon, leaping forward to attack. Anger and irritation was still rushing through my body, thudding in my ears, and the moment I saw her lunge, I moved to defend, my sword clashing against hers. Without waiting for her to pull back and try again, I twisted, pushing her to the side and ducking beneath her wild swing. Straightening out behind her, I kicked out at the back of her knee, forcing it down to the ground. She tried to spin on the ground and attack again, but this time, I managed to catch her attack against my sword. With a quick flick of the wrist, I disarmed her and spun the sword around to her throat.

I could make out Yves and Lori gawping at me, stunned. But I barely managed to take a breath before two more instructors bolted forward, both armed and dangerous. I tensed, immediately pushing the first instructor out of the way so that I could deal with the other two. What followed after that was a blur of movement, clashing swords and the occasional gasp from the watching tributes. I deflected the first attack and immediately moved to attack the second instructor, who was caught off guard by my speed. Easily disarming him, I spun around to his other side and flipped the sword around in my hand, slamming the hilt into the top of his neck. He crumbled to the floor as the first came back for more. Without anyone else to get in the way, he was much more focused than the second, which meant I had to spend more time wearing him down first. Even so, it only took me a maximum of five minutes to disarm him and hold him at sword point.

Gasping for breath, I ignored the stitch in my side and dropped the sword to the floor. Without so much as a glance in the direction of the District 2 tributes, I stormed past them and marched to the side, where people were waiting to show us all to lunch.

I entered the dining room alone, being the first to exit the gymnasium. Still shaking in anger, I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, letting the smell of hot chocolate and cake override my senses. Slowly, I felt the tension in my muscles fade slightly.

"That was quite a show you put on, Hart," a sneering voice came, and I glanced over my shoulder. Myles glared at me. Behind him, Iris was watching me with wide eyes.

"Thanks," I smirked. "Glad you liked it. Wanna see what else I can do?"

His eyes narrowed slightly. "You think you scare me, Blake?"

I laughed lightly, suddenly remembering the last time I saw him. "I should," I grinned, and recognition flashed across his face. He reddened in anger, but Iris giggled behind him, waving at me happily. Twisting my lips reluctantly, I winked back and turned to get some food.

The dining area filled quite quickly. The Career Districts ended up gathered at the front table, as close to the Gamemakers as possible, where they laughed loudly amongst each other. Even Myles was joining in, and Iris spent the entire time twirling a steak knife through her fingers absent-mindedly. Obviously, despite her young age, she was just as deadly as the others. The thought made me smile slightly.

Most of the other tributes were huddled on the back two tables, keeping their heads down and not uttering a word. Layton was still far to the left, with the look of someone who'd already been beaten. The whole scene made me hesitate by the food carts, spinning a bread roll in my hands thoughtfully. I'd promised to get Layton out alive, but I didn't have nearly enough time to train him to any great extent. Whatever plan he'd devised with Chaff wasn't going to work. He was just too . . . weak. So I couldn't help him that way.

But maybe I could give the other kids a better target to hunt . . .

"Oh, Seeder might actually kill me," I mumbled to myself with a roll of my eyes, snatching up a bottle of water and striding to the back of the room. I couldn't tell which Districts the tributes were from - it might have been 5 and 8 - but all four looked uncomfortable when I smiled easily at them.

"Sorry, do you mind if I sit?" I asked pleasantly. They exchanged strange looks, but shrugged and shifted as I sat myself down opposite them.

One of them, a boy I thought might've been called Serra, cleared his throat awkwardly and frowned at me. "Why aren't you sitting with your own District?"

I blinked at him and lifted an eyebrow. "Why would I?"

The four tributes exchanged another strange look, and I had to take care to keep my expression straight. "I don't know," Serra admitted. "It's just what everyone does, isn't it?"

"Probably," I grinned. "But I'm not everyone." My smirk widened as I watched them try to decide if I was threatening them. "Besides, anywhere as far away from the Careers is probably best, don't you think?"

One of the girls, Juno, snorted. "You decide that after you've annoyed them all with that sword work display?"

I winced. "Not one of my best decisions, I admit," I conceded, leaning forward and lowering my voice with a wicked grin. "But did you see their faces?"

All four of them were suddenly trying to mask smiles. "I thought Lori was going to faint," the other girl, Opal, mumbled with a small chuckle.

"I think Jenia, the girl from 1, did for a moment," the last boy, Troy, laughed.

"That's nothing, did you see the look on Myles's face?" Serra hissed, now smiling widely in amusement. "The last person I saw looking that nauseous was my stylist when I told him I thought his whiskers looked ridiculous!"

I laughed along with the others as they nodded in agreement, everyone suddenly remarkably at ease. Behind us, I was well aware of the Careers faltering, unsure what to make of our laughter, but the others either didn't notice or didn't care. My smile grew, and I stayed at the table long enough to chat politely and laugh loudly enough to make the Careers curious. Then I excused myself before the Careers could leave, bidding them all goodbye and turning for the door. Most of the Career tributes were scowling at me - with the exception of Iris - but I only winked with a smirk and slipped back out into the training arena.

I spent the rest of the afternoon making as much fuss as possible. Even the Gamemakers were pointing and frowning in my direction, murmuring thoughtfully. That only served to make the other tributes even more mad, not that I let that stop me. In the last few hours, I worked through the archery, hand-to-hand combat and knife throwing stations. The one thing I did avoid was the crossbow station. It had always been my weapon of choice, and as much as I had trained with the others, I was much more comfortable when I had a crossbow to hand.

The first problem I encountered, however, was when I finally got back up to Floor 11.

"What did I tell you?" Seeder protested as I slumped into the sofa, my muscles burning.

I lifted my eyes in her direction wearily. "I saw red," I shrugged with a wide yawn. Her eyes widened and she turned to Chaff in exasperation. He was frowning in concern, but he made no comment and shrugged his shoulders at her.

No one else made any comment about my ill-judged display during dinner, but the longer I sat still, the tighter my muscles seemed to get. I knew I should have kept up my training, I grumbled to myself, but there were reasons no one trained in District 11. Since all of us had little food, we had very little energy. Plus, we spent so much time doing chores - especially in the care centre - we didn't really have time for anything else.

The moment we'd finished dinner, I hauled myself unsteadily into the shower cubical and turned it on as hot as I could stand it. Standing beneath the water, I stood stock still and let it untie all the knots in my muscles. Honestly, all that did was make them feel weak and lifeless. I wasn't sure which felt worse.

Gritting my teeth, I forced myself to take fifteen minutes to stretch out all my muscles gently, knowing from past experience that if I didn't, I'd be worse than useless for the rest of our training time. Then I clambered into bed wearily and fell asleep before my head had even hit the pillow.