Disclaimer: The Hunger Games is not mine.

Note: New poll on my profile. Taking a break from SYOT-related questions to ask what district you would consider yourself to be from if you lived in Panem. As usual, base this on anything you like: geographic location, skills, personality, or something else entirely. You can choose your top two, if you like, or you can pick just one. The winning district will get ... something. Probably not something terribly plot-relevant, since several districts have already lost both of their tributes, but something, nonetheless.

Day Three
A Deed to Do

Helius Florum
Head Gamemaker

Everything was running smoothly.

Despite having four years as Head Gamemaker under his belt, Helius was still surprised by how well things could come together in the arena. How perfectly organized all of it appeared, when, really, so many things were left to chance. Ella's control over the trees had been a spur-of-the-moment decision on his part. Wulfric had come running to save Abstract. Aldo's parachute had landed in precisely the right place at the right time.

And now Nicoline and Pike had stumbled into just the right area of the arena for a little fun.

Helius smiled. They still had no idea what they were running from. Not really. But they had enough sense to know that it was something they wanted to get far away from as quickly as they could. And he would let them run for a while. But not forever.

Towards the eastern end of the caves, Abstract was waking up – covered in spider silk, still a bit numb from its venom, but very much alive. She looked around, puzzled. Amazed that she was still alive. Perhaps wondering who had saved her. Narrowing down the possibilities. Maybe wondering whether it was safe to leave the tunnel, and where the spider had gone.

The spider, of course, was on its way east. Out of the caves. Helius giggled a little, watching the tributes at the Cornucopia as they shared a late breakfast, completely unaware of what was coming their way.

To the north, Harakuise was making his way back to where he had left Aldo and Equinox, not knowing that he would only find one of them upon his return. Helius smiled a little, wondering what Aldo had seen, in the end. The skeletons in the marsh where real enough, but the air in the swamp had a slight hallucinogenic effect – just enough to fool the tributes' minds into putting faces – familiar faces – with the empty shells. Who, exactly, he had seen – and who Kiona and Zione had seen on their little venture into the marsh – was a mystery to the audience, and to him.

Far to the southeast, Ella sat cozily in her tree, never suspecting the danger that was about to descend on her forest. She thought she was safe, so far away from the other tributes. Helius giggled a little. She would know better soon enough.

And, plunging deeper into the caves, Wulfric looked up to see a parachute descending, bringing what Helius knew would be helpful supplies in the search for his allies.

So many little pieces. So much left up to chance, and yet it always worked out.

It was always a good show.

Harakuise Swallot, 14
District Five Male

Harakuise's first thought was that maybe Aldo had finally left.

The boy had been growing more and more uncomfortable as time wore on in the arena, so it had always been a possibility that he might eventually decide to get up and leave. But, if the look on Equinox's face was anything to go by, that wasn't the case. Equinox had seen something. Something terrible. Harakuise knew that look.

The cannon had been Aldo's.

But there was no sign of a fight. No other tributes. No blood on the ground. No body. "What happened?" he asked, drawing his knife. Maybe Equinox had done the deed himself. Maybe the older boy had finally figured out that he might be better off alone.

"There was a parachute," Equniox answered hesitantly, pointing at the marsh. "Aldo went out on the marsh to get it. There were … some sort of skeletons – dead bodies – under the water. They … they dragged him under."

Harakuise nodded, struggling to maintain his outward calm while, inside, he cursed the Gamemakers' bad timing. He had been hoping, now that they were armed, to be able to attack the larger alliance at the Cornucopia, but now there were only two of them. Once again outnumbered two-to-one.

"What was in the parachute?" he asked, hoping for some good news on that end, at least.

Equinox shrugged. "How should I know? It's still out there, and I'm not going to go get it. You're welcome to try."

Harakuise studied Equinox for a moment. He had probably meant for his tone to sound casual, but he was frightened. Which was good – it had kept him alive when Aldo had perished. Going out on the marsh was a risk, but maybe actually less or a risk now that Aldo had died. Would the audience really want to see another tribute die the same way in the space of a few hours? Wouldn't they be wondering, too, what was in the parachute? It could be anything, after all. Could have been meant for any of them.

The fact that they had received any gifts at all was actually quite a surprise to Harakuise. None of them were exactly popular with their mentors. Aldo had attacked his. Equinox and Vester had ignored each other. And Tania had clearly favored Brie, connected with her, sympathized with her and her brother. She'd decided early on which of her tributes deserved to go home, and it wasn't him.

Unless Brie was dead. Sher had said that Brie had noticed him leaving. If she had followed him and run into trouble, if one of the unaccounted-for cannons during the night had been hers, then maybe he was Tania's only hope.

Was it his, then – this parachute?

And, if it was, could he leave it out there, when anything – maybe something that could change the course of the Games – could be inside?

"All right, then," he said calmly, heading towards where Equinox had pointed. "I will."

Then, without looking back, he stepped out onto the marsh.

Nothing happened.

Slowly, Harakuise took another step. Then another. Farther and farther he ventured towards the flashing red light that came from the parachute. But then, a few feet away from it, he stopped. Something was wrong. The air was growing denser, as if the marsh was suddenly covered in a thickening fog. But instead of grey, the fog was an odd, misty shade of green, enveloping him in a damp, musty smell.

For a moment, he stood there, trying to breathe, trying to wave the fog away from his face. Running wouldn't help. Surely Aldo had tried to run. Run or fight. But how could he run from fog? How could he fight shadows?

No, there had to be another option. Run from it. Fight it.

Or use it.

Harakuise dropped his hands to his sides, freezing completely. No longer brushing the mist away. No longer struggling not to breathe it in. Slowly, deliberately, he took a long, deep breath. Then he looked down.

Sure enough, there were dead faces in the water. Men in uniforms. Hundreds. Maybe thousands. One of them reached a skeletal hand out of the water.

Harakuise didn't think. He didn't have time to. He simply reached down, took hold of the hand, and pulled. Swiftly, almost effortlessly, the skeleton rose out of the marsh, and, in an instant, it was standing beside him. But it was a skeleton no longer. It was a body. A body with arms and legs. Clothes. And a face.

His father's face.

Equinox Kunzite, 16
District Two Male

There was still no cannon.

Equinox watched the marsh anxiously, trying to tell himself that he shouldn't be worried. After all, if Harakuise died, he lost nothing. The boy wasn't really all that useful. And Equinox certainly didn't trust him. But Husk was dead. Aldo was dead. If Harakuise died, too, he would be alone.

Alone. That was what he had wanted for so long. To be alone – away from his mother, away from the memories of what his family used to be. And maybe that would be all right, back in District Two. Alone in a house in Victors' Village. That sort of alone would be welcome. Refreshing.

But here, in the arena, between the dark, looming mountains and the now foggy green swamp, alone didn't sound very good at all.

Then Equinox saw him – a small, dark shape in the green mist, staggering towards the edge of the swamp, stumbling as if injured or very tired. In spite of himself, Equinox broke into a smile when he saw that it was, in fact, Harakuise. And he was carrying a parachute.

Then, safely out of the marsh, Harakuise stopped, swayed a little, and then collapsed.

Equinox approached the younger boy cautiously, but then lifted him and carried him back towards the mountains, more relieved than he would have liked to admit that he hadn't yet heard a cannon. In fact, aside from the fact that his eyes were open, Harakuise seemed to be asleep. Equinox propped him up against the side of the mountain, shrugged, and opened the small package attached to the parachute.

The package had a "12" scrawled on it; it had been Aldo's, after all. Inside was a loaf of bread, some cheese, and a slab of some sort of meat. "Really?" Equinox asked with a sigh, rolling his eyes at the younger boy even though he probably couldn't hear him. "That's what you risked your life for?"

"Not … food …" Harakuise mumbled in his sleep. "Help."

Equinox smirked. "Oh, yes, they're trying to help us. Sent us lunch. Except it wasn't meant for us. They were trying to help Aldo. Look where it got him." He took a bite of the bread. "Thanks, Aldo."

"Thank you," Harakuise repeated sleepily. "Have a … debt … repay …"

"Sure," Equinox nodded. "You just wait til you're dead, too, and then you can repay your debt to him. Me – I'm getting out of here."

"Not going to die … yet," Harakuise said with a smile, his voice almost a whisper. "Have something … to do … before I go …"

Equinox broke off a bit of cheese. "Don't we all."

Pike Carter, 12
District Six Male

Doom, doom.

Pike felt like they had been running for days. And still the drumbeats seemed to be coming closer. Surely whatever was chasing them should have caught them by now. But maybe the Gamemakers were toying with them. Prolonging the chase.

Or leading them towards something.

"This way!" Pike called suddenly, pulling Nicoline off the main path and towards one of the tunnels off to the side. If the Gamemakers wanted to drive them forward, that was the last place they wanted to go.

Nicoline kept running at his side, either coming to the same conclusion or simply too tired to argue. Pike was tired, too, but fear kept them both going. But, as they rounded a bend in the tunnel, Pike secretly wondered how long that would last.

Then there was a sound – an animal-like cry, from directly in front of them, and suddenly there was something blocking their path. It looked almost human in shape, but that was where the resemblance ended. It was hunched and dirty, its limbs crooked, its face hideous, its eyes glowing. Behind it were several more.

But it didn't attack – it simply stood there, blocking their way, screeching at them. Pike and Nicoline immediately whirled around and ran back the way they had come.

Back towards the sound of drums.

Doom, doom.

On they ran in the dark, this way and that, path after path blocked by creatures – some small and scurrying, some large and fierce, all driving them in the same direction. Slowly, the path started sloping down, and then became a series of stairs, all leading the same way. The drumbeats grew louder, and Pike thought, though he couldn't be sure, that it was growing hotter.

The stairs narrowed, and Pike led the way, stumbling from exhaustion, nearly falling several times. Suddenly, there was a sharp drop, and he slipped, tumbling down stair after stair, flailing wildly in the dark, before coming to rest on a larger ledge. Pain coursed through his body, but the worst of it came from his head. And, worst of all, he couldn't see; his glasses were gone – lost or broken, he wasn't sure, but certainly gone.

Then Nicoline was at his side, helping him up. A fiery pain shot through his leg. Pike tried his best not to scream, but as soon as he tried to take a step, he gave a cry and collapsed back onto the stairs. "Pike, come on!" Nicoline insisted. "We have to go!"

Pike tried to stand, but fell down again, wincing. "Go. You go. I'll catch up. I just need to rest a moment. Go."

Nicoline hesitated. But not for very long. The drumbeats were growing closer. "Don't take too long," she whispered, and took off down the stairs. Pike leaned back, utterly exhausted. She hadn't realized – she'd been too afraid to notice – that his glasses were gone. He couldn't see. Couldn't follow.

Doom, doom.

The drums came closer. And then slowly, dimly, Pike became aware that he could see. Just a little. As if some sort of light was coming from behind him. Something that was following the drums, lighting the way.

Slowly, he stood up, gingerly testing his leg. Carefully, he hobbled down stair after stair, hoping the Gamemakers would lead him in the same direction as Nicoline. The light grew brighter. And brighter. And so much hotter.

Then he turned. And he saw it. Behind the monstrous troll-like creatures, the ones beating the drums. Behind them, he saw a creature of pure fire and darkness and death.

And he ran.

Nicoline Peters, 13
District Eight Female

Doom, doom.

Nicoline was crying as she ran, but she didn't stop. She couldn't. She had never been so terrified. Not when they had first entered the arena. Not when they had been running from the eagles. Not even when Angus had killed Libby. Because now, there was no chance. No hope. Whatever was chasing them would catch them both eventually.

And she had just left Pike to be caught first.

Nicoline wiped the tears from her eyes. There was nothing she could have done. She wasn't strong enough to carry him, or even to help him along, really. She wasn't strong enough to fight off whatever was chasing them. She wasn't even strong enough to stay with him and face death together.

She had never felt so helpless.

Crying, Nicoline plunged on in the dark, running so fast that she almost didn't see the great chasm in front of her. She forced herself to a halt just in time to keep from falling over the edge. Breathing hard, she stood on the edge of the chasm, maybe forty feet wide. Too far to jump. Too steep to climb, and she couldn't tell how deep it went.

Probably too deep.

Then there was a light, coming from the other side of the chasm. A pinpoint of light in the darkness. Maybe a torch, or a flashlight. "Over here!" Nicoline cried, not really caring who she was shouting to. It didn't matter, not when such a huge gap lay between them. And, for the moment, she only wanted, more than anything, not to be alone.

And then a voice answered.

"Nicoline!" Wulfric's voice, loud and clear, in the darkness. "Nicoline! Is that you?"

"Wulfric!" Nicoline shouted at the top of her lungs. "Wulfric! I'm over here!" Then, calling back into the darkness. "Pike! Pike, it's Wulfric! He found us!"

"Pike?" Wulfric called back, his voice coming closer now, and, with it, the light, which she could now see was a flashlight. "Pike's with you?"

"Not with me, but he's alive!" She couldn't bear to tell him the rest, and she hoped, silently, that he wouldn't ask about Libby.

Maybe he guessed the news already, because he didn't ask. He simply came closer, and closer. "Look out!" Nicoline called as he approached the chasm, but he'd already seen it and stopped. Wulfric eyed the gap for a moment, shining his light along the sides, looking for a way across, and then down into the chasm, which seemed to plunge forever into the darkness.

Doom, doom.

Wulfric reached into what Nicoline could now see was a backpack and removed what looked like rope. Setting down his flashlight and holding onto one end, he threw the coil towards her in the darkness. "Tie it to something!" he called as she caught the end.

Something. Looking around, Nicoline saw a pillar. A pillar that seemed to be trembling with the sound of the drumbeats that were growing closer and closer. Without thinking, she wrapped the rope around the pillar and tied it as tightly as she could, hoping it would be enough. Libby had been better at knot-tying. Libby would know…

Nicoline blinked the tears from her eyes once more, shaking her head. That wouldn't help.

Doom, doom.

Suddenly, there was light. Just a little, but startlingly bright despite her glasses. Something behind her – something in the distance – seemed to be ablaze. She gave a tug on the rope, testing it. It held firm. "Hurry, Nicoline!" Wulfric called. He had tied the other end to something in the distance on his side, and was now shining the light on the rope. "You have to cross now!"

She had to cross now.

Nicoline took a deep breath and knelt down by the edge of the chasm, clutching the rope in both hands. Carefully, she swung her legs around the rope, reaching forward with her arms. Then, slowly, silently hoping the rope would hold, she inched away from the edge of the chasm.

The rope held.

Inch by inch, dangling from her arms and legs, she pulled herself across to the other side. Her arms ached. Her fingers were growing cold and numb with the effort. For a moment, she almost slipped, and her glasses fell off with the sudden jolt, but it didn't matter anymore. It was growing brighter. And, it seemed, hotter.

Nicoline could barely breathe. It took all her effort to simply hold onto the rope as her hands grew colder, her legs aching. But somehow she held on. And then Wulfric was there, reaching for her. She took his hands, and he pulled her the last few inches to the other side of the chasm. Exhausted, she collapsed in his arms and buried her face in his chest. For a moment, they simply stood there, relieved.

Doom, doom.

Then Nicoline looked back across the chasm, back towards the light that now filled the chamber.

And she saw it.

Wulfric Harding, 18
District Ten Male

Wulfric had been hoping that she wouldn't look back.

The whole time Nicoline had been pulling herself across the rope, he had been hoping she wouldn't look back and see what was following her. Because if she had seen it then, he knew, she would have let go. He would have let go. Anyone in their right mind would have let go rather than look at the monster that was now approaching them.

It seemed to be made entirely of darkness, wreathed in flame. It was easily ten times his size, but its wings made it look even larger, and it seemed to be growing even as it drew nearer. In one of its hands – if hands they were – it held a whip, and, in the other, a sword, both glowing with fire, wreathed in flame.

And then he saw Pike.

The boy seemed to be only a few feet in front of the creature. It could easily reach down and snatch him up, or strike him dead, or wrap him in the coils of its whip, but it didn't. It was toying with him. The Gamemakers were toying with him. With all of them. They wanted Wulfric and Nicoline to see.

Pike was limping badly, clutching his right arm, nearly falling with every step as he neared the edge of the chasm. In the back of his mind, Wulfric knew the boy would never make it across. He would never be able to hold onto the rope on his own. He would never have the strength.

But Wulfric did.

Quickly, he set Nicoline down. "Nicoline, I need you to stay here. I'm going to go get Pike. You'll be fine. You'll be fine."

Absently, he heard her objections. He'd never make it to the other side. The monster would get them both if he tried. But her pleas fell on deaf ears. Wulfric reached down, ready to swing himself over onto the rope.

"NO!"

The voice was Pike's. The boy knelt by the rope on the other side, with something in his hand. A knife. Wulfric had just enough time to wonder where Pike had gotten a knife before he realized what he meant to do. "What are you doing?" he shouted, hoping he was wrong.

Pike looked up from the rope. "Saving your life." The boy smiled a little. "You cannot pass."

Then, in one swift motion, he cut through the rope.

"No!" Wulfric shouted, clutching his end of the rope as the other end dropped limply into the abyss. "Pike!"

But Pike was already standing up, the fiery creature nearly on top of him. The boy turned his gaze to Nicoline. His voice was almost a whisper, but the echo filled the chamber. "Run, you fools."

Wulfric looked away as the little boy was engulfed in flames. Then, tears in his eyes as the cannon sounded, he lifted Nicoline in his arms and did the only thing he could do.

He ran.

Kiona Brink, 18
District Two Female

Boom.

Kiona and Zione shared another look as the cannon sounded. Ten left. Only ten of them left, and four of them were sitting around the Cornucopia eating dinner. Assuming Sher was still alive, that meant there were five of them. That meant half the tributes left in the arena were their allies.

Which meant their allies were one cannon closer to having to die.

Kiona had tried her best not to think about that. Not to remember that Sterling and Brie and Sher would have to die in order for her or Zione to live. But each cannon brought them closer. And Zione knew it, too. And, of course, so did Brie and Sterling.

War had been so much simpler. Allies were allies, and enemies were enemies. They were the heroes, and the Capitol … well, they were the villains. But there were no heroes in the arena. Not really. Not in the end.

Well, that wasn't entirely true. There were dead heroes. But she didn't want to be a dead hero. And she didn't want Zione to be one, either.

But, eventually, one of them would have to be.

Kiona shook her head and took a bite of dried beef. "Ten left."

Zione nodded. Just a few more hours, and they would find out who their remaining opponents were. "I wonder—" he started.

But he didn't get a chance to finish, because Brie gave a scream and pointed towards the mountains.

There, scurrying towards them with a speed she wouldn't have thought possible for something that size, was a giant spider. Kiona sprang to her feet, knives drawn in an instant, and hurled two at the creature before she even had time to think. But they didn't even slow it down.

"Scatter!" Zione shouted, and they all did, without question. In the back of her mind, Kiona knew what he was thinking. If they split up, gave it more targets, they might confuse it long enough to get a decent shot at it.

But get a shot at it with what? Her knives hadn't even pierced its hide. But, apparently, they had angered it, because as they scattered in different directions, the beast came scurrying after her. Kiona ran as fast as she could, zig-zagging and trying to stay one step ahead of the spider.

"Kiona! Back here!" she heard a voice call, but it wasn't Zione's. It was Brie's. She was standing on top of the Cornucopia with Sterling, waving her arms, calling to Kiona to bring the spider back in their direction.

Kiona hesitated for a moment, but, as the spider lunged at her again, she turned back towards the Cornucopia, sprinting as fast as she could, hoping that one of her allies had a better plan than she did.

Sterling Therms, 18
District Seven Male

Sterling just hoped Brie had a plan.

When Zione had ordered them to scatter, the top of the Cornucopia had seemed like the safest place. Now he just felt exposed. The spider was easily large enough to climb up after them. And now Kiona was leading it straight in their direction, and Brie was screaming at the top of her lungs for her to bring it closer.

Zione had been running in roughly the same direction as Kiona, probably trying – without success – to distract the spider from her, and now he was running alongside her back to the Cornucopia. "Kiona! Zione!" Brie called. "When I tell you, turn around and grab one of the spider's legs! And hold on tight!" She turned to Sterling. "Okay, when they bring it over here, jump on and grab one of the legs."

"Jump on a giant spider," Sterling repeated. "Right. Got it."

Brie smiled a little. "Good. Let's do it."

That was all the time he had to think about it, because just as he was about to object, the spider was beneath them, and Brie yelled, "Now!"

He jumped.

For a moment, everything was a blur of screams and spider hair as the four of them took hold of the spider's legs. The spider, not injured but definitely startled, skidded almost to a halt before deciding that it would be a better idea to try to shake off its attackers. Sterling held on as hard as he could, grateful to have ended up on a leg rather far away from the spider's fangs.

Then he saw something. Blood. But not red blood. Black, sickly-looking blood, oozing from a gash on the spider's back. It was already injured. Brie must have seen the same thing, because she was shakily making her way up the spider's leg and onto its back with a knife in hand. Sterling glanced over at Kiona and Zione. Near the front, close to the spider's head, they were too busy trying not to be eaten. Letting go with one hand, he reached up higher on the spider's leg and pulled himself up closer to Brie.

The world was still spinning as the spider thrashed back and forth, trying to shake them. But Brie drove a knife into the gash in the spider's back and used that as an anchor, holding on. With one more burst of strength, Sterling leapt up to join her, grabbing hold of the knife. Quickly, he pulled a second one from his belt and drove it in beside hers.

The cut was already deep. As the two of them drew their knives in opposite directions, it widened, and the spider screeched in pain. With a sudden jolt, Brie was thrown, and Sterling knew it was only a matter of time before he joined her.

Then, suddenly, Kiona and Zione were beside him, adding their knives, slicing through the spider's flesh. Blood gushed out, spraying in his eyes, filling his mouth. Sterling coughed, blinking hard, trying not to let go. But his hands were slippery and wet, and, suddenly, he wasn't holding anything anymore.

He hit the ground hard, and everything went black.

Zione Brink, 18
District Eight Male

Zione could only hope no one was beneath the spider when it finally collapsed.

With one last, dying squeal, the spider crashed to the ground, and Zione finally let go and slid off its back. Breathing hard, he stood there for a moment, eyeing the fallen beast, trying hard to wipe the smile off his face.

He had actually enjoyed that.

Kiona stood beside him, nearly laughing. Maybe she was thinking the same thing: that it was oddly satisfying to kill something and not feel the least bit guilty. To not have to think about the brothers or sisters or parents or friends of who had died, because the only thing that had died was a huge, ugly spider.

Assuming their allies were still alive.

That thought snapped him out of it, and he hurried over to where Sterling lay nearby, struggling to sit up. A little farther away, Brie staggered to her feet, limping a little, but very much alive. Zione allowed himself to smile again. They were alive. They were all alive.

Now if only he could stop reminding himself that they would still have to die later.

His thoughts were interrupted by an odd rustling noise, and he saw Sterling pointing in horror at where the spider's body lay. As Zione watched, the body dissolved into thousands – maybe millions – of little, black spiders that ran, skittering, across the ground. Running off to the southeast.

"Where're they going?" Sterling asked, clearly a little surprised that the miniature spiders hadn't simply turned and attacked them.

Zione shrugged. He was curious, too, but it didn't really matter at the moment. They were safe.

But they weren't entirely unharmed. They all had some scrapes and bruises, but Brie had a deeper gash in her arm, and Sterling had hit his head pretty hard when he fell. Kiona had been grazed by the spider's fangs when they had first grabbed onto it. Only Zione had escaped with just a few cuts.

He wasn't sure whether he should feel grateful or guilty.

But whatever guilt he felt vanished an hour later, just before dark, when a parachute came floating down, marked with an eight but clearly meant for them all. Inside were enough supplies to treat their more serious injuries. Zione smiled. Clearly Lander meant for him to keep up what he thought was an act: taking care of the others.

The others. For days, Zione had been able to think of his allies – aside from Kiona, of course – as just that: others. The rest of the group. Useful, but, in the end, expendable.

But now, sitting with them in the dark, tending their wounds, they finally seemed like more than that. He had been worried that Brie and Sterling would be a burden in an actual fight, but they had held their own and had even been the ones to find the creature's weak spot. They were more than allies now. They were comrades. Friends.

And, somewhere in the back of his mind, Zione knew that was even more dangerous.

By the time the anthem played, they were all settled down for the night, and Zione had volunteered to take the first watch. He braced himself as the Capitol anthem began to play. The first face to appear was the boy from One. Zione nodded, a little surprised the thirteen-year-old had lasted this long. Then the boy from Six. Not particularly surprising, either, but he had been one of Nicoline's allies. And the next face – the girl from Ten – had been Nicoline's ally, as well. That left her alone. Alive, but alone in an arena of older, stronger tributes.

Then Sher's face appeared.

Zione and Kiona glanced at each other as the face of the boy from Twelve replaced their ally's in the sky. He'd been wondering, when Sher hadn't returned all day, but he hadn't wanted to say it. Hadn't wanted to admit – to the others or maybe to himself – that another one of their allies was dead. Glancing at his allies' faces, Zione could tell Sterling was shocked, but Brie looked as if she might have suspected the truth. Still, her face was filled with grief; she had grown fond of their strange, quirky ally.

But, as he held Kiona's hand, staring up into the darkness of the sky, Zione couldn't help but feel a little relief. Sher had known, after all, about them. Brie and Sterling had been fooled into thinking they were a couple, but Sher had figured out the truth back at the training center. And now he was gone.

Maybe their secret had died with him.

Aron Meldiar
District Six Mentor

"You're still here."

Aron looked up from his couch in the corner, where he'd been drinking a silent toast to Prius and Pike. The voice belonged to Mags. He smiled a little. "Where else would I be?"

Mags sat down beside him, confused. "The others – the other mentors from the Capitol, at least – they've all gone."

Aron nodded. Nerond and Mayberry had left the first day, the former in a state of rage, the latter in silent disappointment. Pardeck had left soon after Aldo's death. But, hours after Pike's final moments in the arena, he was still here. "I'm not just here for the tributes," Aron explained. "I'm here for you."

"Me?"

"All of you. The victors. You don't get to go home to your districts until the Games are over. So why should I? What makes me any better than you?"

Mags stared for a moment. "I just thought you'd want to get out of here as soon as possible."

Aron shrugged. "And go where? If I go home, all I'll hear are people's condolences about the tributes I've lost, their reassurances that I'll do better next year. They don't understand – not out there – that winning isn't necessarily better."

"So you … didn't want them to win? Prius and Pike?"

Aron chuckled softly. "Don't get me wrong, Mags. I want my tributes to live as much as the next mentor. Their deaths were as painful for me as Mars' death was for you. But, Mags, no matter what you do – no matter what I do – every year, you're going to mentor at least one tribute who isn't coming home. And if you can't make some sort of peace with that, it'll eat you up inside."

"Peace? With death?"

Aron nodded. "Did you see Pike, in the end? That was peace."

"He was screaming."

"His body was screaming. If you live to be as old as I am, Mags, you'll learn that the body does all sorts of things. It screams. It weakens. It falls apart. But that's not what matters. He was at peace. And I hope, in my last moments, that I can say the same."

Mags eyed him curiously for a moment, but then thought it over and nodded. "Me, too."

"I am weary, and full of grief. But I have a deed to do, or attempt, before I too am slain."