Disclaimer: I still do not own the Hunger Games universe nor do I have any rights to "Landslide" by the Fleetwood Mac which is being used in this chapter. Also, disclaimer, this is probably crossing into "non-cannon" with the songs, but please don't flame me for this. It worked way too well to pass up an opportunity and, since I'm something of a musician myself, I try to work music into most of my pieces. This may be happening more often.

Slippery Ground – day 2 night – day 3

Cassius Shadi – District 8

The room was silent; the arena was silent. It was this moment of perfect symmetry that Cassius loved, these moments where their world mirrored the arena. To him the mirrors served as a reminder that everything was connected, especially for them. Oh, of course all of the mentors would try to forget their Games, would detach themselves, some better than others, but, in a sense, part of them was still in there. Every time Cassius looked at the tributes on the screen, he knew a small part of him was still fighting alongside him, a part that would never be reunited with his full self.

Maybe it was better that way, Cassius smiled as District 8's tributes began to stir. He would never, forget, none of them would, which set them apart from the rest of Panem in a mystical way. If they were lucky, perhaps they were the only ones in Panem who would ever have the responsibility of dealing out death, judgment and violence. After all, without the Hunger Games, without the districts' subservience to the Capitol, the blood of Panem would flow through the streets. No, as gruesome as it was, the sacred sacrifice of the Hunger Games, the needs of sacrificing the whole population would outweigh the terror of the few. It was a sacrifice through which he would nobly continue to usher tributes through, to whichever end met them.

For now, though, his chosen tribute was fighting had for life. Leoric may have been wounded, but with Margery's assistance he looked as though he was recovering. Cassius was grateful. Both of them had potential; that's why he had tried to spook Margery with the mirror trick so long ago on the train. He knew that, eventually, in order to be a victor, a tribute would have to look himself in the eye and make a terrible choice valuing his life above all else. He needed to know whether either of them could do that.

"I'm still undecided," he mused. He knew that District 10's mentor, standing only a few feet away from him, had made her decision, her prediction.

"Do you want to know?" Steric asked, like she did every year. It was their routine.

"Why do you ask questions to which you already know the answer?" Cassius teased, turning to meet her gaze. For once it was just the two of them; everyone else was keeping to themselves or still asleep from the night.

Steric smiled back and said nothing, knowing that was what he wanted. She had her ritual and he had his.

"What's going on?" Wolfgang asked cluelessly coming up behind the two of them. Cassius smirked. Wolfgang would undoubtedly want to talk strategy, exert his energy in any way he could now that the dawn of another day was breaking.

"Just the Games," Steric replied, taking her seat. Cassius smiled at the irony of how right she was.

Ridge Therne – District 11

Ridge had volunteered for the shift just before the dawn and now he was glad he had. He couldn't sleep anyhow, as jittery as he was. They were in uncharted territory, with the open sky above them and unknowns all around him.

He should have been terrified. Leoric was still out there, somewhere in the arena and, given the boy's disposition, he didn't doubt they wouldn't be on friendly terms if they met; in fact, Leoric might be seeking him out in vengeance even as he sat there. Leoric seemed as though he could hold a grudge. In the darkness that still surrounded them anyone could be out there.

Or anything, he thought, as he heard another screech above. It was quieter, as though the beast itself were tiring. Ridge could almost feel the flap of wings from so far beneath, like the winds of a torrential hurricane.

"Altair," he whispered as dawn broke. He could see a glimpse of the beast high above, still not much more than a speck above their heads. The girl woke beside him, groggily. She clearly wasn't in a huge hurry to awaken and he didn't see any particular need to rush her.

"There!" hollered a female voice from behind them. Ridge startled at the sound and then, in the distance, but growing closer he saw the girl from 8. The first person besides Altair he'd seen in days and she didn't seem happy. He could feel his pulse quickening, wanting to befriend her, but unsure. Was she alone or had someone come with her?

"Altair!" he whispered again, more fiercely and this time she arose, standing up. The other girl froze, clearly not expecting to have seen two of them. She didn't advance any closer to them, just looked in confusion.

"We won't hurt you," Ridge called out.

"Shh," Altair hissed, slapping him. Clearly she didn't want any more allies, any other attention, but if Margery was alone maybe it couldn't hurt their cause. After all, with the three of them they would be stronger if they were attacked; they might even take the offensive.

Margery Kelta, District 8

She held her ground, trying to look as confident as possible. After staying up the entire night, she didn't really know what had drawn her here. In the dark she had thought she had heard voices nearby, and then had been certain they'd been her imagination.

And then, of course there had been the terrible scream from above. It had sounded almost human, so, in her terror that some horrible torture would befall her if she didn't come, Margery had made her way to the mountain, to this crossroads under the looming shadow of dawn.

She could see better now, the two tributes that had already made themselves known were in full view. Were there more of them? She wondered, trying to remember who had been with the boy from 11 and the girl from 5 when they'd been in training. The other boys from the bro-lliance, of course, but the boy had flitted between groups so much during the first day, seeming to be a social butterfly, so it wasn't out of the question that he might have other allies still concealed behind him. The girl she was more certain wouldn't have garnished any allies of her own. As she recalled, Altair had mostly kept to herself in training, which was how Margery had ended up with Elric.

Margery sighed, uncertain, but determined not to show it. The weight of lack of sleep was taking its toll on her groggy, indecisive mind. Come on, she coaxed herself. You have two choices: ally with them or let them go.

On one hand, allying didn't seem like such a bad option. Both of them seemed unscathed, as though they had made it through the activities of the first two days without wounds. On the surface they didn't seem to have an abundance of supplies, but with their health they could work something out. After all, she and Leoric had supplies, but Leoric was recovering and she was exhausted. If she could just sleep a little. . .

No, she immediately stopped the thought. Even if she thought she could trust them, Leoric would never accept Ridge. He was the coward who had abandoned him in his alliance's hour of need. Instead of lending his hand to the fighting, a fight they might have won, he had turned tail and fled even before the turn of the tide went against them. Her district partner would want to kill him on sight if he saw him.

"What are you going up there for?" Margery asked, stalling, certain some brilliant plan would come to her along with the rising of the sun.

"I'll tell you if you come with us," Ridge invited, turning on the charm. He smiled and she nearly smiled back.

"Ridge, come on," Altair urged.

"What's up there?" Margery asked, hoping maybe they knew. Maybe Ridge would give away his poker face and tell her something useful instead of trying to bait her.

"Only what you take with you," he answered mysteriously. "Last chance. We've got to move."

Margery shook her head, trying to appear more confident than she felt.

"I'll see you on the other side," she bid them farewell. Ridge seemed disappointed, but didn't ask again. Together the two of them made their way up the mountain, becoming smaller and smaller.

Altair Ellion – District 5

If she looked down, she was lost, Altair repeated to herself as she placed her hands and feet directly where Ridge had. Each rock was trembling as they ascended higher and higher.

There had been a reason she'd avoided the heights of the Cornucopia, a reason she had clung tightly to the tree. She despised heights. She didn't think of it so much when it was a matter of survival. If there had been an enemy at the bottom or a hungry lion, she was certain her rational would have triumphed and urged her forward. Now, though, she was going from danger into unknown danger and she didn't like it one bit.

"Try to keep up," Ridge laughed from up above. This whole thing still seemed a game to him. Who could make it to the top first; who could they make friends with on their way to their certain doom? It was bound to drive Altair insane.

"Yeah, 'cause the mountain will move so quickly I won't be able to catch it," she retorted.

She immediately wished she hadn't. The mountain wasn't actually going to move, she convinced herself as her mind took her back to one of the songs she used to sing on the streets. It was a favorite with the street urchins, but all of the upper class hated it, thought it was depressing. It was one of her favorites, though; she could almost hear Camden singing along with her.

"I took my love and I took it down. I climbed a mountain and I turned around
And I saw my reflection in the snow-covered hills
Well, the landslide brought me down"

Altair began singing to herself to calm her nerves. They were nearly at the top, she realized. Ridge's hands were nearly grasping the edge. She smiled.

Then all of a sudden, the mountain did begin to tremble. At first she thought it was the beast, whatever it was, snoring, but then the stones beneath her feet began to tremble. Altair glanced down and, far below, saw someone dashing away. She began to panic as she could feel the earth slipping away beneath her.

"Hurry!" Ridge called from above, panic clear in his voice. He was on the ledge now, but Altair couldn't make her legs fight gravity quickly enough. Her fingers stretched out, desparate to cling to anything, stone, rock, the edge of the cliff. As the stones continued to shift downward, she grasped a root hanging from the side of the cliff, first with one hand and then the other. It shifted with her weight as her legs swung back and forth fighting to steady herself, anything to avoid the drop below.

"Give me your hand," Ridge called, extending his from above. He was leaning as far as he could over the edge, but she still couldn't reach, but she couldn't hang onto the root anymore. It was giving way.

He inched closer, barely hanging to the edge himself.

The root slipped and she stretched. His fingers met hers and for a second, she thought they were secured, but then her foot gave way and she saw him getting further and further away.

No, she realized. It wasn't him that was moving. It was her, tumbling down, down, down as he screamed her name after her, his voice echoing down the slope.

Her body trembled as it felt each and every strike of rock, but as her head hit one more time the song entered as the blood exited.

"When you see my reflection in the snow covered hills." She felt Camden's pick slip from her pocket into her fingers, as though she were clutching it one last time, willing her reflection, her echo to be with him, to be with the world in some miniscule connection. "Maybe, the landslide will bring you down," she thought, softly. Not such a bad ending, she reflected, as the pain dulled. The last thing she heard was the echo of falling rocks, or was it her own cannon?

Ailis Neilan – District 3

She would have thought the cannons would have been quieter below ground. She had even hoped they would, especially for Candice's sake. The younger girl shot right up from her sleep.

"It was far away," Ailis lied. Nothing was far enough away, nothing could truly stand between them and death, not when they were all trapped in the arena. Oh, it could feel as far removed as they wanted to pretend, but it would never be far enough.

"I wish we could just attack now," Ibrahima muttered, anxious. Ailis knew they couldn't, though. They no longer had an advantage, not in numbers and not in knowledge. They knew where the Careers were, yes, but they were well defended, well rested. How could they match that?

Unless the cannon had been one of theirs. No, Ailis thought. That would be too much to hope.

"If we don't do something soon the Gamemakers will force us to," Ibrahima continued to strategize.

He was right, Ailis supposed. It was the third day and down to thirteen of them. Aside from the Careers, though, she had no idea whose alliance might have re-formed, who might have found other allies in the arena.

Of course, they still had whatever they saw in the mirror, if that could indeed be trusted.

Even that wasn't good news. All four Careers, still at the Cornucopia, together. Those weren't good odds.

On the other hand, it had never been about the odds, Ailis reflected. It had been about the strength of their oddly formed group. And now they needed a win, no matter how hard pressed they were to get it.

"We should have attacked last night," she overheard Ibrahima mumble. He wouldn't have said it aloud. Despite his restlessness, his fury, he was trying, for Candice's sake and hers to keep his cool.

"Let's just do it now," Ailis suggested. As soon as the words left her mouth part of her knew it was folly. Every logical instinct, every strategical nerve that she had fought against shouted against it, but she rebelled. They had killed Freida and now they had to pay.

Ibrahima smiled, clearly ready for the challenge. His eyes were already lit with the fire of battle, with the flame of revenge.

Candice, though, looked at Ailis in terror, not even daring to speak. She was terrified, of course, Ailis knew and now came the moment of truth. The way she was hesitating, Ailis knew she must be weighing her options: remain with the group and charge in, knowing it could very likely mean her death, or be labeled a coward and maybe thinking she would be this group's next target. But it wasn't black and white.

"I was thinking," Ailis suggested, even as the idea came to her. "Our best chance against a prepared alliance would be a diversion. If they assume we're all together, they'll target whoever they see first. If one of us is far enough away, though, and draws them off our scent, it might be enough to scatter them."

"They'd come after me wherever I am!" Ibrahima chimed in.

"Then how about we make some of them think you're where you aren't," Ailis lead. Candice perked up a little, getting the drift. "If we light a fire, or a series of fires behind the boulders in the rocky area we'd be concealed enough they'll have no idea who is where and will have no choice but to come investigate. They're down to four. If they bring half, it's two at the Cornucopia and two on the hunt and Candice, well, you can stay hidden well. Is it okay if your job is not to attack?" Ailis asked, knowing the answer full well.

Candice nodded. "I want to avenge Freida, but I'd be no help in a sword fight. Let me get them off your tails."

Ibrahima nodded. "When do we start?"

Jonas Tanner – District 7

It was too eerily quiet, Jonas decided as the rest of his group chatted and ate their breakfast as though nothing had happened. It wasn't the deaths at his hands that had bothered him, or at least that's what he told himself. That was what he had trained for, what he had volunteered for. And he was gratified that he and Nero had possessed the fortitude and collaboration to do what had been necessary and eradicate Dane. That would indubitably win them favors in the Capitol's eyes.

No, that wasn't what was making him apprehensive. It had been the reverberations that had heralded the dawn that didn't seem to unnerve any of his allies. How could someone be unfazed by the thunder of cascading rock, a sound that had seemed to make the entire arena quiver? Even now with the passage of time, it seemed as though the universe were unhinged, as though the falling of those rocks had prefigured the turning of the tide.

Jonas swallowed hard, determined to put that thought out of mind. Since things seemed to be going in their favor, the only way the tide could turn was if their luck changed. He didn't believe in luck, ergo that would never happen.

"Hey, brainiac, you should rest up a bit before we go hunt," Saphyra joked.

"Is that the strategy for today, then?" Jonas asked.

"Nah, Killian's had enough of that for now. We're going to lay low. After all, we've got all the time in the world," Saphyra answered. Beside her Killian growled. He didn't like that response, to be certain, but it seemed he still needed a bit longer to recuperate from the wounds Ibrahima had inflicted upon him.

"Perhaps that is better," Jonas agreed.

"What is this? Agreeing with me for once?" Saphyra laughed.

"I assure you, the arrangement is ephemeral," Jonas retorted, returning her joking smile. Underneath the words, however, it was true. Their alliance could only last so long, especially with Dane gone already. How long would it be until they needed to establish a leader? Saphyra hadn't seemed to express any interest; despite her loud, brash manner, her responsibility was questionable, especially given her secret. With Killian wounded, the natural succession fell to either him or Nero, but he doubted Killian would accept his total authority without repercussion and Nero had been silent since Dane's death. Perhaps he was wondering how his own actions had reflected upon him in the district. Given the opportunity, Jonas made a mental note that he would have to speak to his ally, assure him his actions had been correct.

"What's that?" Jonas asked, careful to choose his words so they were unobjectionable. He needed his allies' attention, not their confusion.

"It looks like someone's lit a fire, made a camp down in the boulders."

"It's got to be Ibrahima's group, scouting out the territory to attack us while we're defenseless."

"Then we lure him in!" Jonas exclaimed. He was almost as eager to end Ibrahima as Killian was; he'd never forgiven him for the jab to his character in the training center and now, with Killian out of commission and Saphyra itching for a fix, it was about time he proved his worth.

"Absolutely. Let me at him!" Killian exclaimed. He jumped up only to slip back down to the floor, grimacing in pain. "It's not that bad," he said. "But if I try to run . . ."

"Then we'll bring him back here," Nero negotiated. "There are three of them. Let's bring the three of us, make sure that we don't get outnumbered. Kill who we have to, but lure him back here so all of us can take him down."

Killian and Saphyra both nodded eagerly, but Jonas hesitated. Something about this felt deceptively easy.

"What if this is a ruse? They attack while Killian is here by himself?"

"I may be hurt, but I can still take out the lot of 'em," Killian assured him."

"Just to be sure, let's block the tunnel entrance to the Cornucopia," Nero agreed. He and Jonas brought one of the boulders from the rock face, cleared the loot from above the hole, and sealed the entrance.

"Whatever unfortunate soul takes that route will find themselves hopelessly entombed," Jonas reflected. He couldn't contemplate a more unpleasant manner of death, he thought as he and his two companions set out on their undertaking.

Raivel Aukins – District 3

"Still quiet," Bailey observed. Even the anxiety in her voice was beginning to fade as they ate their evening meal. Two days here were almost complete and no one had found them.

"I told you. I don't think anyone can find us. Those keys locked us in and everyone else out. Someone did a great job," he commented.

It seemed like the universe had finally given them a break and, while Bailey seemed suspicious, both he and Mobie were more than willing to take this break. Raivel knew it couldn't last forever; in the back of his mind of course there loomed the thought that even if by some sadistic miracle all three of them remained here, enclosed in this sanctuary until the finale and it came down to the three of the only one of them could go home. But that was so far away; for now he couldn't help but smiling up at his companions. For now they were safe, happy.

"What do you suppose your district partners are up to?" Mobie asked innocently shrugging his shoulders. "Everyone I made contact with is dead, Nina, Gloria, so I don't have anyone out there to worry about. Do you think about yours?"

Both Raivel and Bailey just looked at each other. Raivel felt almost guilty that he hadn't thought of Ailis's well-being. Was she still alive? She had to be unless she'd been the most recent cannon.

"She's still around," Raivel said, non-nonchalantly. He'd only known Ailis for a few days. She'd seemed decent, they had gotten along, but in all likelihood he'd never see her again. "She's smart. I'm sure she'll last a bit longer. Maybe she'll even take out some of those Careers." That's what she would have hoped, he knew, what her allies would have been hoping with the experienced boy from four.

"Then she's after my district partner, unless he's had the sense to leave," Bailey replied, her voice unsentimental. Raivel didn't pry what had happened between Bailey and Jonas, but he gathered that there was no love lost between them.

They were silent for a moment and Raivel tried to guess what was going on in each of his allies' heads. Then he started giggling.

"What's so funny?" Bailey asked.

"It's funny! Here, with you guys, it's like the home I never had. You're like the family I never had," he laughed, fingering one of his treasures in his pocket. They weren't as important, he thought, as the people he had with him, but if he made it out of this, he wouldn't have his friends, but he would certainly have his treasure.

Khalani Averic – District 1

"I don't like this at all," She hissed at Blake. "Everything about it screams of a set up. Why can't he see that?"

Blake sighed and she wanted to punch him in the face. Didn't he care that, with their tributes separated, with Jonas and Nero clearly willing to sacrifice an ally, with Killian outnumbered should any group decide to attack the Cornucopia all of the odds seemed to be tipping in the wrong direction? "They're stronger than this!"

"What makes you say that? Why do they have a better chance than anyone else?" Blake asked.

"Because they're ours! Because . . ." Khalani fumbled. There was really no reason they should be better than anyone else. Just because she knew people in District One who had pursued training who had dreamed of this opportunity, just because she'd dreamed her whole life for this, maybe that didn't mean she had had a right to win, that her tributes were entitled to a win now. But it had to. She had to believe that to support them, especially with Blake being the way he was.

She turned away from him, her eyes fixed on the screen even as Saphyra kicked a random boulder for no apparent reason as she ventured out with Jonas and Nero. Khalani's fists clenched so hard her hands must have turned white.

"You've got to keep this in perspective, Khalani, otherwise it'll get to you. 23 kids die. That much is certain. More often than not no one but them controls who comes out. Sometimes the Gamemakers put in their two cents, sometimes a sponsor will, but more often than not, it's their decisions, right or wrong and sheer chance, luck or fate. You can't put any of that on yourself otherwise, eventually you'll end up like . . ." Blake trailed off, his eyes darkly gesturing at the bar table where Aeden still sat.

"I could never be that messed up," Khalani declared. She had done horrible things in her Games, certainly, but here she stood and she would do everything she could to help her tributes emerge victorious, this year and in those to come.

"And that, my dear, is why you are an exceptional victor," a sugary voice washed over her. Khalani turned to see Excelcia and Echo both standing behind her. "You want your tributes to excel, to bring pride to your district and to fight with honor. You hope that their training, their preparation has been enough, but you can never really know, not unless . . . well, nevermind." She laughed lightly to end her thought. "It's a pity Saphyra and Killian aren't getting on better with Ibrahima," the first victor continued, her voice baited. What was she trying to get at, Khalani wondered. With Ibrahima the worst threat to her tributes why did it seem like Excelcia understood her better than Blake did?

"My credit now stands on such slippery ground,"