Disclaimer: The Hunger Games is not mine.

Note: New poll on my profile. Since we're nearing the end, the question this time is who you think will be the victor. Please note that this is not necessarily the same as who you want to see as the victor. (That'll be next.) As usual, read the chapter first because anyone who dies in this chapter won't be in the poll.

Day Four
To Rule My Own End

Tania Fray
District Five Mentor

"Choosing sides is never easy, is it."

Tania had to fight to keep from splashing her drink in Vester's face. His words only served as a painful reminder that she had chosen her side a while ago – maybe as far back as the train ride. Now that one of her tributes was poised and waiting to attack the other, she wondered if she had made the right choice.

Vester was in the same position, of course. Harakuise and Equinox had been slowly moving south throughout the morning, concealed by the fog that seemed to follow them obediently. And now their district partners – Brie and Kiona – were waiting anxiously for the battle that was almost certain to come once Wulfric, now on his way down the mountain, reached the Cornucopia.

And there was nothing she could do. Maybe nothing she would do even if she could. Either way this went, by the end of the day, at least one of her tributes would almost certainly be dead. Maybe it was better to just sit back, wait, and see who came out on top – and then focus on them.

Maybe that was better, but it certainly wasn't easier.

"What about you?" she asked against her better judgment. "Have you chosen sides?" Like her, he hadn't sent anything to either of his tributes yet, but neither of them had really needed anything that desperately yet.

"I've tried not to," Vester answered vaguely. "Just having two tributes still alive by this point is … not something that happens very often. And the one time it happened in the past, they were allies, so … no need to pick sides."

Tania nodded. Yes, it would be easier if Brie and Harakuise had decided to be allies, instead, but that would never have worked. And the same probably went for Kiona and Equinox, if Vester's expression was anything to go by. "Well," she said at last, "I guess we'll see what happens."

Vester nodded. "It's frustrating, isn't it – how often that's all we can do. Nothing we could send them, nothing we could tell them, would really help them now. It's completely out of our control."

"I hate it," Tania agreed.

Vester chuckled softly. "Well, I don't think anyone especially likes it, Tania. We all want to think we're in control, that there's something we can do to help, but the truth is that it's always out of our hands, anyway. Whatever control we think we have over anything that happens in the arena is really an illusion. And maybe it's better that way. Would you really want that control? Would you really want to be the one who decides which of your tributes lives and which of them dies?"

"At least then we could pick the one who deserved it the most," Tania blurted out before she had time to think it through.

"The one who deserved it the most," Vester repeated. "It would be nice if that was how the Games worked, wouldn't it. Well, nice for some people. But probably not for most of us who actually won." He leaned back in his chair. "Tell me, when you won, did you feel like you deserved it? Do you really think that, out of the twenty-four tributes who were in the arena, you were the one who deserved to live?"

Vester shook his head. "I don't think many of us would say we were the most deserving. The strongest, yes. The cleverest. The most ruthless. Maybe just the luckiest," he added with a smirk. "But the most deserving? If the victory went to the tribute who deserved it most, I would have died eight years ago. And I probably would have died first." He smiled a little – a sad, wry smile. "And you, Tania? Would you still be alive?"

Tania didn't answer, but she knew that was answer enough. Vester sighed and glanced up at the screen once more. Then he leaned back and closed his eyes. "Wake me when our tributes are done slaughtering each other, okay?"

Tania wasn't sure whether he was joking or not.

Equinox Kunzite, 16
District Two Male

Equinox was beginning to think that maybe Harakuise actually knew what he was doing.

They were only a short distance from the Cornucopia, still hidden by the fog. Harakuise had been leading the way, but, suddenly, he stopped, holding up his hand. Equinox halted beside him. Harakuise pressed a finger to his lips and pointed towards the mountains.

Equinox could see a shape in the distance – another tribute, headed in their direction. No, not towards them – towards the Cornucopia. Equinox smiled. Harakuise had been right; they did have help. Was this what he had meant? But how could he have known?

Equinox shot Harakuise a questioning look, and Harakuise shook his head. He hadn't known. But it was a pleasant surprise.

The younger boy glanced around at the fog, then raised his arms expectantly. Equinox stared, dumbfounded, as some the fog swirled and twisted into a shape – the shape of a man. Harakuise simply pointed towards the Cornucopia. The shadowy figure nodded, and, slowly, other forms took shape in the mist. Harakuise held out his hands towards the Cornucopia, and the fog slowly drifted in that direction.

Equinox stared. "What do you expect them to do?" he whispered. "Kill all the other tributes?" Surely he knew it couldn't be that easy.

Harakuise shook his head. "No. No, we all have to fight our own battles. But, if we're lucky, they'll cause enough of a distraction, and we'll have an easier time." The younger boy smiled a little. "Still think this is suicide?"

Equinox shook his head. "Okay, I'm convinced. So what do we do?"

Harakuise drew his knife. "Wait for the right moment … and then finish the job."

Wulfric Harding, 18
District Ten Male

The fog only made him hesitate for a moment.

Standing at the base of the mountain, looking out across the desert, all Wulfric could see was a thick, green fog. But it didn't matter. The others were out there, waiting, somewhere. He just had to find them.

Then, one way or another, it would end.

He wasn't even certain anymore that he wanted to make it out of this alive. Slowly, Nicoline's words from the night before had crept into his mind: We could have died with him. Maybe it would have been better if we'd just died together.

Maybe that would have been better – facing death together, side by side. Better than this, certainly. Better than watching her die in front of him. Better than watching Pike be burned alive.

Better than this.

Wulfric fingered his cleaver, staring out into the mist. He could still turn back. Head back up into the mountains and wait. But that would only prolong the end. This fight would come eventually. Wasn't it better to get it over with? To be done with the Games? To end this, one way or the other?

At least this way, he had a choice. He could choose to attack. That was the one thing he had left, the one thing they couldn't take away from him: He could choose when the end would come.

Wulfric gave a loud cry and charged.

A knife whizzed by his head in the fog. Another grazed his arm, but he didn't stop. Didn't even slow down. Screaming, snarling, he lunged forward into the fog, and, at last, hit something. There was a scream, and something sliced into his chest. He could feel blood. But he didn't stop. He swung his cleaver, and he could tell by the cry that followed that he had found his target. The scent of blood filled the air. His blood. Their blood. It didn't matter.

It didn't matter anymore.

Kiona Brink, 18
District Two Female

Stupid.

Too stupid and too slow. She should have dodged sooner, but she'd been trying to get a good shot at the tribute she could now see was Wulfric. And she'd gotten a good shot at his chest, but it had cost her; her left shoulder was bleeding, badly, and she couldn't feel her arm. Zione was at her side in an instant, tackling Wulfric, rolling around on the ground.

Kiona leaned back against the Cornucopia, trying to catch her breath. She glanced down at her arm. It was still attached; that was something. Quickly, she used her knife to cut a strip of fabric from her shirt and wrapped it around the wound as well as she could. It wouldn't last forever, but maybe long enough to help Zione.

Long enough to help her brother.

As quickly as she could, she rushed back towards him in the fog. He and Wulfric were still wrestling on the ground, each struggling to gain the upper hand. Kiona drew a knife, and Zione met her gaze. She made a slight rolling motion with her hand, and he nodded, then shifted, allowing Wulfric to force him onto his back. Wulfric raised his cleaver, but, as he was about to strike, Kiona drove her knife into Wulfric's back. The boy went still for a moment, but then crumpled to the ground, his cleaver coming to rest harmlessly in the ground beside Zione's head.

Boom.

Zione gave a grunt as he rolled out from under Wulfric's body. His clothes were torn and bloody, but whether the blood was his or Wulfric's, Kiona wasn't sure. Nor did she have time to think it through clearly, because everything was getting foggier. Or maybe that was just the mist getting thicker. She was vaguely aware of Zione helping her back in the direction of the Cornucopia, promising to find some medicine among the supplies.

Kiona leaned back against the Cornucopia, smiling. It didn't matter. Not really.

He was safe.

Sterling Therms, 18
District Seven Male

It didn't take Sterling long to decide that he hated fog.

The cry had come from Kiona and Zione's direction, but, the moment he turned around, he was no longer sure of exactly which way he should be facing. The odd, green mist swirled around them, light in some patches, dark in others. Almost forming shapes. Shapes that looked almost like…

Too late, he realized exactly what they looked like. Too late to cry out, to do anything but tackle Brie to the ground as one of the shapes lunged at the two of them. A shape that wasn't, in fact, fog, but another tribute with a knife. Brie gave a startled cry as she hit the ground, but she was safe.

Safe from the knife that now stuck deep in his side.

Sterling struck out blindly in the fog, his fist meeting skin as the tribute who had struck him jumped back, laughing. Sterling staggered to his feet, drawing his own knife, trying to ignore the pain in his side. Brie was on her feet quickly, as well, knives drawn. They stood back-to-back in the fog, waiting.

The other tribute was still laughing. Loudly. Good. Let him laugh. Sterling closed his eyes, ignoring the pain. Ignoring the fog. Ignoring everything but the laughing.

Then he threw his knife.

A sudden cry told him he had at least hit his opponent, who came charging through the fog, enraged. But Sterling and Brie were ready. Sterling ducked, dodging the boy's attack, allowing Brie a clear shot with her knife, which struck the boy's chest. He staggered for a moment, then fell, gasping, coughing.

Sterling didn't have time to think. He hurried over to where the tribute lay, yanked the knife from the boy's chest, and drew it across his throat. As the cannon sounded, Sterling looked up to see Brie staring, horrified. It took him a moment to realize that she wasn't disturbed by what he had done. Instead, she was staring at the knife in his side.

He was surprised to realize he'd almost forgotten it. Now the pain rushed back. Brie knelt beside him, about to take it out, but he had some vague recollection that you weren't supposed to do that – not until you had a way to stop the bleeding. He held up his hand. "I'm fine. Really. But he may not have been alone."

He looked down at the tribute's face. One of the older boys – from Two, he thought. Equinox. He'd been allies with—

Brie quickly drew her knife, her expression somewhere between loathing and dread. "Harakuise."

Harakuise Swallot, 14
District Five Male

One cannon.

Waiting beside the Cornucopia, Harakuise fingered his knife, wet with water from the swamp. An unnecessary precaution, maybe, but it never hurt to have a little extra advantage, and the swamp seemed to have strange properties. Strange properties that included producing fog that could shape itself into life-like images.

He could see two of the tributes now – one supporting the other as they both made their way back towards the Cornucopia. Every now and then, one or the other stuck out at the fog, convinced that one of the shapes was about to attack them. Harakuise smiled, ducking down low inside the mouth of the Cornucopia – where they would have to come if they wanted any of their supplies.

Two pairs of feet came closer. Closer to where he lay. At last, they were within his arm's length. In an instant, he lased out, and his knife sank deep into the nearest leg. The girl gave a cry.

Then she kicked him in the face.

The boy was on him in an instant, lifting him from where he lay. Harakuise felt a sharp pain in his chest, and then felt himself flying back – back into the Cornucopia. His head struck the metal at the back with at terrible crack, and everything started to grow blurry. Blood dripped from his chest, but, in his startled state, the older boy had been careless. The wound wasn't as deep as it might have been. Harakuise slumped back against the wall of the Cornucopia, hoping.

Hoping the boy would have better things to do than to come finish him off.

Boom. A second cannon. But not his. But, with any luck, the boy might assume it was. Maybe.

Maybe.

Brie Fallyn, 17
District Five Female

The fog was beginning to lift.

Brie glanced around, knife drawn, as the desert began to clear of the foggy shapes. But, as the shadowy figures dissipated, it became clear that nothing was going to attack her. No one was left.

Two bodies lay on the ground – Equinox and, a little farther away, Wulfric. Back at the Cornucopia, Zione knelt by Kiona; he seemed to be bandaging her shoulder. Slowly, Brie helped Sterling to his feet. "You'll be fine. We'll get that knife out, and … and bandage it up, and…"

Sterling shook his head. "And then what? Brie, there aren't very many of us left. What happens when…?"

"Shh, don't worry about that now. We'll deal with that when the time comes."

"I just don't want that time to be too late." Sterling stopped, leaning heavily on her. "You should go."

"Go?" What did he mean? Go where? "Why?"

"Think it through, Brie. Who's their biggest threat now? Ella's off in her forest somewhere; she's been leaving everyone alone. These two are dead, and your district partner – no telling where he is, I suppose. And then there's us." He shook his head, motioning towards his side. "They won't bother about me; they'll probably figure I'll die on my own. But you? You should get out of here while you still can."

"And go where?"

"I don't know. Anywhere. The mountains, maybe. The caves. Get out of here before they reach the same conclusion."

"And leave you here?"

"I'd slow you down, Brie. And if they decide to come after you, maybe I can … slow them down, even if I can't stop them."

Brie stared. Did he really mean it? He sounded sincere. Pleading, almost. Did he really intend to sacrifice himself for her? "What about you? What about Bailey?"

Sterling smiled a little at his daughter's name. "I want to see her … more than anything, Brie. But, if I can't … then I'd want her to be proud of me."

Brie hesitated for a moment. Would Zione and Kiona really come after her? Would she be next? Somehow, she didn't quite believe it. Not while there were still other tributes out there. Not if Kiona was hurt. Maybe, eventually, it would come to that. But not yet.

Not yet.

"Come on," she said quietly, helping Sterling back towards Kiona and Zione. "Let's get that knife out, and get you better. The rest can wait."

But, secretly, she wondered how long she could put it off.

Zione Brink, 18
District Eight Male

They had won.

Zione allowed himself a sigh of relief as he herded the others away from the Cornucopia so the hovercrafts could come and collect the bodies. By his count, Ella was the only other one left, so they headed for the lake by the mountains, bringing only the medical supplies they needed immediately. Zione carried Kiona, still unconscious, and Brie helped Sterling along. Finally, they all collapsed beside the lake, tired but relieved.

Three hovercrafts descended in the distance, and Zione nodded. Amid the clamor, he must have missed one of the cannons. Five of them left now. Their group and Ella. Zione opened a pack of bandages, hoping their battle would satisfy the audience for a while. Maybe they could take a day or even two to recover. Then they could figure out how to deal with a moving forest.

And then they would have to figure out how to deal with each other.

But not yet. It would take all of them, most likely, to take on Ella, the trees, and the spiders that had been heading in her direction. They would need to work together – one more time.

And, for that, they all needed to recover. He took out some bandages and turned his attention to Kiona. He had already bandaged her shoulder as well as he could; now, he focused on her leg, the boy's small knife still sticking out of it, keeping it from bleeding too much.

"Need an extra pair of hands?" Sterling offered. Brie had removed the knife from his side and was now washing and bandaging the wound. Sterling was carefully cleaning the knife, but looked like he would prefer to do something else to take his mind off his injury.

Zione nodded. "All right. On three, I'm going to take the knife out, and I need you to keep applying pressure to her leg." He handed Sterling the bandages. "Got it?" Sterling nodded. "All right. One. Two. Three."

He slid the knife out. Sterling immediately covered the wound and applied as much pressure as he could as Zione wrapped it. "Good," Zione nodded. "That's good."

"But that isn't." Brie was pointing at the knife, which, below a layer of blood, was coated in some sort of green liquid. "What's that?"

Zione studied the knife for a moment, wiping off some of the blood and smelling the liquid underneath. "Smells like marsh water."

"Is that bad?" Sterling asked, but Zione could tell from his tone of voice that he already knew it was. Zione looked up, a little surprised that he was so concerned about Kiona. But then his gaze strayed to the knife that Sterling had been cleaning so thoroughly – the knife he had been stabbed with.

"Well, it's certainly not good," Zione answered vaguely. "Let's head back to the Cornucopia and see what we've got as far as medicine. Or maybe our sponsors will send us something." He was trying to keep his tone light, but he knew the second option was really their only hope. Whatever was in that marsh water, it was already in Kiona's blood – and probably Sterling's, as well – and he knew they didn't have anything strong enough to fight it.

Of course, the Capitol would. And they almost certainly had sponsors who would be willing to send them what they needed. There were four of them left, out of five tributes in the arena. They'd just killed almost half of the remaining tributes. Surely that would be worth something in the sponsors' eyes.

But silently, in the back of his mind, Zione had to wonder what would happen if they only sent enough medicine for one.

Ella Halliwell, 17
District Four Female

Two cannons.

Ella counted on her fingers, trying to remember how many of them were left now. Not very many, she was sure, but she was having trouble remembering who else was in the arena. Twenty-four to begin with. And her allies were dead. And Mars. And Lordez. But beyond that, it was something of a blur.

Not that it mattered. The fewer of them there were, the better. It would make them less likely to come after her. What tribute would dare take on an entire forest? No, they would stay where they were. She would stay where she was. No one would challenge her.

No one would dare.

Ella swung up into the highest branches of a tree, hoping for some glimpse of what was going on at the Cornucopia. But her gaze was quickly drawn much closer to her forest. The dark shapes she had seen earlier were coming closer, close enough for her to see that they were some sort of animal – huge and creeping across the desert. A little farther away, five trees lay on the ground, dead. Withered.

Ella stared, horrified, as the dark shapes crept closer. Closer. There seemed to be thousands of them, and, as they drew nearer, she could see that they were, in fact, spiders.

And she laughed.

They thought spiders would be a match for her! Ella raised her arms, and the entire forest creaked in response, uprooting itself, ready to march into battle. Still laughing, Ella swept her arms forward, urging the forest on. North they marched, with Ella's tree in the lead.

The trees were going to war.

Jade Floren
District One Mentor

"Idiots," Ivy muttered.

She was drunk. She'd been drunk ever since Sher's death. Just like last year, after the last of her tributes had died. And probably the year before. For a moment, Jade was reminded that, two years ago, he'd killed one of the tributes from Eleven. Fortunately, she either didn't remember or didn't hold it against him.

Probably the second one, since she seemed to remember each of her tributes. Which was part of what made her such a great mentor. She deserved better than the tributes she'd been stuck with for the last seven years. He'd suggested – more than once – that the tributes in his district had the right idea, starting to train for the Games. She'd shrugged it off, pointing out that no amount of training could really prepare you for what it was like to kill another person.

She was right, of course. All of his training hadn't been what had helped him most in the arena. It had been his confidence, his determination. But that was at least partly a result of his training, as well.

Jade leaned back and poured Ivy another drink. "Which ones?"

"All of them." For a moment, she didn't elaborate, but Jade knew she would, eventually. At last, she sighed. "Wulfric, for charging in blindly like that. Kiona, for not getting out of the way quickly enough. Equinox, for giving his position away by laughing, of all things. Harakuise, for not just staying put inside the Cornucopia and, instead, striking out at someone who was already wounded and giving himself away. Zione, for not making sure he'd finished him off. Sterling, for not saying anything about his own injury; if he's lucky, the sponsors will notice Equinox's knife was coated, too, but he could have said so and made sure. Brie, for not running when he told her to. And Ella, for being tricked into thinking she's actually controlling those trees."

Jade shrugged. "And, while we're at it, Nicoline and Wulfric for making so much noise coming out of the caves, and Abstract for not waiting to see who her targets were and going after the bigger one first while she still had the element of surprise." He refilled his own drink. "They're human, Ivy. They're under a lot of pressure. They're scared. And they're kids."

Ivy rolled her eyes. "Some of them are the same age as you."

"It's different. You know it is." He shook his head. "You were seventeen when you went into the arena, but you weren't a kid when you left. Neither was I. Neither were any of us. And whoever comes out of that arena this year – regardless of stupid decisions made inside – won't be a child anymore."

Ivy shook her head, but he knew she understood, in a way that even the other victors wouldn't. Of the eight of them, only he and Ivy had voluntarily entered the arena. They'd known – at least to some extent – what they were getting into, and it had still changed them. "Well," she said at last. "I guess we'll just have to see which idiot makes it out this year."

Jade laughed a little. "I'll drink to that."

And he did.

"I would have things as they were in all the days of my life, and in the days of my long-fathers before me … But if doom denies this to me, then I will have naught: neither life diminished, nor love halved, nor honour abated … But in this at least thou shall not defy my will: to rule my own end."