Author's Note

I do not own the Hunger Games.


Artemis Gilmore, 17

She woke with the cold, electronic light of dawn to be met by a soft, familiar beeping. Artemis frowned, reaching around herself for the alarm button.

Then she stopped.

No.

Not the alarm.

A sponsor gift.

Her heart skipped.

A sponsor gift.

She extracted herself from Apollo, who had fallen asleep on his watch, the jerk, and rolled onto her knees. A few feet away from them, in the grass that now looked even longer, a red light was flashing.

Artemis kept her head down and crawled over to it, snatching it from the grass. Whatever it was, it was small, and light in her hand. The District Nine seal was stamped on top. For Apollo then. She backed up to return to him, finding him stirring at last.

"S'going on?"

"We've got a sponsor gift."

Apollo's eyes snapped open. "Where'd it come from?"

Good question. They hadn't bought one. She hadn't even known sponsor gifts were finally open.

"I don't know." She turned the little box over in her hands. "Maybe someone else sent it to us. Like in the real Games."

That was the idea here, wasn't it? To mimic the real Hunger Games?

"Well, let's just open it and find out."

Artemis flipped the little box back over and clicked the button on top. It split in half and the box folded open to reveal a single armour-up button inside, marked with a +5 on the edges.

Artemis grinned, holding it out to Apollo. "For you."

He grinned back and smacked his hand down on it. The usual hum filled the air, followed by the nodes of Apollo's armour igniting one by one until there were three of them shining blue.

"Someone up there must like you," Artemis said.

"All the better for me." He frowned. "Didn't you get anything?"

"Not yet. But I don't need anything as much. Maybe they're saving their points." She tossed her hair over her shoulder. "They better be saving their points."

Silverie Erilea Amarendaje, 14

She and Emeria didn't abandon the now far too big alliance in the night, as tempting as it was. Somehow, something held them there. The way Celeste spoke seemed so certain, and Zephyr… Zephyr believed in her.

Of course, they could both be crazy, but if they weren't then this might be the way that more than one of them survived this. Silverie might not need to sacrifice their actual life for Emeria. So they stayed overnight, but in the morning they kept their food and supplies to themselves.

"Where now?" Marcellina asked as she munched on her cracker.

"The fire bird is this way," said Celeste, pointing.

"Look, before we keep on chasing off after some strange bird, could we ask what it is we're looking for?" Emeria asked.

"The fire bird knows the way out."

"Yes, but is this an actual bird? A place? An object?"

Luminita frowned. "A person."

Silverie turned to her. "What?"

"It's a person."

"How do you know?" Silverie snapped. Did every player in this damn Game have to speak in riddles?

"When I spoke to her before, she warned me about a yellow bird. But she didn't mean a yellow bird, she was talking about Sorcha. The fire bird's another player."

Silverie scowled and folded her arms. "So you want to make this alliance even damn bigger?"

"No. The fire bird will lead the way," Celeste replied.

"Tell me it's the way out," muttered Sorcha.

Celeste apparently didn't have an answer to that, because she went back to weaving flowers together between her hands.

"Great."

Everything about this alliance was ridiculous. Silverie looked to Emeria. She nodded. They would play along for now, because if this fire bird person really could get them out, they had to try. But if the alliance began grating, or crumbling, they were out.

A familiar beeping rang out nearby. Several of them glanced around.

"Is that a sponsor gift?" asked Emeria.

They all hesitated, but sure enough, a white parachute appeared above them and slowly floated floated down to land in the centre of their group. It was a largish box, white, with the District Seven seal printed on top, around the button that would usually open the thing.

For a moment they were quiet, and then Silverie stepped forward to push the button. They'd been sorted into District Seven, so presumably this was for them. Zephyr was a moment behind them, his brow creased in a frown.

"I was in Seven too," he said.

Right. Silverie had forgotten about that.

"I'm more experienced."

"What does that matter?"

"People are more likely to sponsor me than you."

"That's ridiculous."

Silverie grabbed the box. "It's ours."

"Look, why don't you just open it and see what it is?" Luminita suggested, holding her hands out to them. "Then you can decide who takes it."

Silverie looked at Zephyr. He nodded. "I'm good with that."

"I'm pressing the button," Silverie said, and did so.

They were greeted by the smell of freshly baked goods. The box was filled with eight loaves of bread, two each marked with the seals for Districts Six, Seven, Eight and Ten. Alongside those was four canteens of water and a small, folded piece of paper.

"Fuck," Emeria muttered, gaping at the box. "This must have cost a small fortune."

Zephyr looked at her. "Which District were you in?"

"Eleven," she replied.

"Oh." He shrugged. "I guess that theory doesn't work then."

"What theory?" Silverie asked.

"I thought they could be from the Districts we were sorted into. See, you and me were in Seven. Celeste was in Ten, and I know Luminita was in Six."

"No, no, you could be onto something," Luminita said slowly, staring off into the horizon. "Sorcha and Calpurnia were in Eight."

"But I was in Twelve," said Marcellina.

"And I had Eleven," Emeria said again.

"Maybe… Maybe they didn't want to be involved," suggested Zephyr carefully.

"And the other Districts compensated," Luminita finished.

"Yeah." He looked around their too-big group. "So you think this was meant to share?"

"It's mine," Silverie said weakly, but they were clearly outvoted and outnumbered by the others in their alliance.

Emeria took their hand and squeezed it. "But we can share."

"Yeah." Silverie eyed the box. "Sure. We can share."

Etheria Arquette, 17

The boys had woken early and packed up the camp, as though the sleep had reinvigorated them with a new strength to continue. The uncertainty twisted more and more inside Etheria. The two of them worked so well together, and meanwhile what was she? A spare piece?

"Try not to touch anything too much," Radiance said, the same warning he'd given her during their first day in the arena. "It's all poisonous. And whatever you do–"

"Don't cut yourself on it," Etheria finished. And if she did, she couldn't get any of the sap or dirt or water from this part of the arena into the wound, lest that be poison too and burn through her bloodstream.

"Exactly," Luminescence agreed. He was still dragging the chain he'd taken from the train graveyard, though what he planned on doing with that Etheria still didn't know. "But we need to watch out for other things now too. Other players, or attempts to push us near them. And mutts."

"Do you really think they'll be mutts here?" Etheria asked.

"They program mutts into other arenas, so I don't see why not," Luminescence replied.

Radiance grinned. "And the ones in this part of the arena will probably be–"

"Poisonous, yes," she finished.

"How did you know I was going to say that?" he complained.

"Well, you do-"

A soft beeping cut off the rest of her answer. Etheria frowned, while the brothers stopped and looked around.

"What is that?" she asked.

Luminescence set the chain down. "Sponsor gift."

"Oh!"

They'd not had any sponsor gifts so far. According to Luminescence, normally there was a short briefing before the bloodbath, but in their Game that had been replaced by the burning pain and introduction from whoever the woman that had taken over was.

Above them, a white parachute broke through the foliage of the trees and drifted down towards them. It got stuck on a branch just above their heads, and Radiance picked up a branch to push it free.

The box was about the size of a phone box, with the District Four seal printed on the top. Etheria picked it up and found it to be surprisingly heavy.

"I think it's mine," Luminescence said.

She frowned and pressed the button on the top. "We're allying, how do you know it isn't to share?"

Radiance sighed as the box opened and took it from her hands. "Because we were sorted into District Five. The box had the District Four seal on it." He dropped it into Luminescence's hands. "Luminescence was sorted into District Four."

Luminescence reached into the box and pulled out a thing that looked very much like an old fashioned compass, heavy and bronze with a large face. The box fizzled away to nothing now it was empty.

"What is that?" Radiance asked.

"Some kind of compass." Luminescence turned it over. "I will point to your heart's desire."

"Great," Radiance muttered with a shake of his head. "Someone thinks they're funny."

Etheria reached out to the compass and Luminescence snatched it away. "If it was meant for you… Phoenix is your heart's desire, isn't she?"

Luminescence frowned. "Yeah. We brought her into this, we have to get her out."

"So what if that's what the compass is pointing towards her?"

Luminescence looked down at the compass in his hands. "Maybe."

"And even if it isn't, it's clearly leading us to something." Radiance shrugged. "I'm in."

Etheria smiled. "Me too."

Luminescence picked up his length of chain. "We better get moving then." He frowned. "Though you might not like where it's pointing."

Vivaldi Perlman, 16

Fog by day and blackness by night.

How had any of the tributes in this arena ever found each other?

He voiced that question to Phoenix, who laughed. "You've never watched the Seventy Fifth? Wow, you really were kept out of the loop."

Heat rose up his face. "Yeah, I thought we'd already established that."

She shrugged. "The tributes of the Seventy Fifth had torches. All the backpacks at the cornucopia contained them. And there were the bigger light canons as well, you know, like the types they use outside shops? But only the careers really got their hands on those, because you had to actually get near the cornucopia."

"Oh." Now Vivaldi felt stupid, though really, how should he have known? The Gamemakers did all kinds of crazy things with their arenas.

They walked for a while longer, narrowly avoiding collisions with a cluster of gravestones, before a strange beeping broke him from his thoughts. He froze, reaching for his epee. "What is that?"

Phoenix frowned. "It sounds like the noise sponsor gifts make in the real Games. But neither of us have bought anything from the sponsor shop."

Vivaldi squinted through the fog. Close by, something was methodically blinking with red light.

"There," he said, pointing.

The two of them made their way over to it. Phoenix drew her knife and Vivaldi followed her example and drew his epee. As they got closer, it became apparent that the beeping and the red light were indeed from the same source, a small white box.

Phoenix poked it with her knife. When nothing happened, she made a harder stab, which only dented the side of it. Seemingly satisfied, she put her knife away and picked up the box.

"It's for you."

"How do you know?" Vivaldi asked, taking it.

"I was in District Twelve. So unless there's another player round here we should be worried about…" She tapped the District Ten seal on the box.

"No, no, that's me," Vivaldi agreed. A little awkwardly, he held the box in the crook of one arm while he tore it open with the other hand."

Inside sat a small black torch.

Phoenix made a funny noise and looked up at the sky. "Looks like someone heard us."

Yeah." Vivaldi lifted the torch out and clicked the button. He'd been expecting to finally be blessed with some light in this cursed arena, but instead… nothing.

He frowned, turning the torch over and shaking it, checking to see whether there was another switch or mechanism he was missing. The bottom section popped open as he did so, but that didn't gain him anything to switching the light on. "How do I..?"

"Vivaldi."

"No, just let me… I can…"

"Vivaldi." Phoenix crossed her arms. "It hasn't got any batteries in it."

"What?"

"It's battery powered. You know, old-fashioned. And the battery compartment's empty."

He looked at the compartment that had spring open, only now taking note of the part that had opened when he pressed one of the buttons and the plus and minus symbols inside it for the old batteries. "Oh." He scowled, snapping it closed. "Well, what use is this then? Useless damn thing–"

Phoenix shook her head. "Our thanks to District Ten for your gift."

"But it doesn't–"

She sighed and pulled him close to whisper, "If District Ten did send you the torch, it could be the people running this Game that took the batteries out, not them. Best to be thankful. They might still send you more."

"Oh!" Vivaldi stuffed the torch into his pocket. "Well, thanks to District Ten then, I guess."

Though some batteries the next time might be useful.

Ares Gilmore, 15

He'd hoped Iridescence might look better this morning, but if anything she only looked worse, her skin having turned an awful shade of white pale and her hands shaking as she held her bow.

"Remind me again why we're dragging her along?" muttered Wonder.

"Because I won't leave her to die."

He'd get her back to her brothers and then she could be their problem instead of his. And really, beyond all the self-pity, she really wasn't that bad.

"She's a liability," Wonder said, glancing over her shoulder at where Iridescence was limping a few steps away.

"She uses a ranged weapon, she makes for good ranged support."

Apollo and Artemis were going to entirely disagree, but sometimes those two could be a little too eager for physical violence. Especially if it was against the Sterlings.

Iridescence seemed to have stopped and was looking around herself, apparently listening intently. Apollo crunched through the undergrowth over to her. "What is it?"

"Can you hear that?"

Apollo stopped to listen - and he could hear it, a soft beep-beep-beep.

"A sponsor gift," he said. Then he frowned. "Did you buy something?"

"No," she replied, though she would say that, wouldn't she? She'd probably been asking for the sponsor shop repeatedly until it opened and then bought him a bunch of stuff that might come in useful. From what he'd seen of her, if was the kind of thing she'd do.

Wonder wandered over to join them and stopped to search the foliage above for the gift drop with them. It took them a few minutes to spot it, breaking through the branches a short way from them and tumbling to the ground with a heavy thump. Iridescence winced. "Hope it wasn't breakable."

That had to be the first cheery thing he'd heard her say all day. It wasn't really funny, but Apollo grinned and laughed regardless.

"Someone's wasted their money if it was."

The three of them picked their way over to the box. The top of it bore the District Nine seal, stamped around the button to open it. Ares's heart sank. He'd hoped it might be something to help Iridescence.

"Mine then," Wonder said. The box looked maybe half the size of her hands, but it must have been heavy, because it took her two hands to lift it. She clicked the button and reached in to pull out a metal canteen of water. "Nice enough, I guess."

"And practical," Ares agreed. Even with Iridescence insisting they took most of her water, they still didn't have anywhere near enough.

Wonder popped the top and took a few mouthfuls before packing the canteen away in her bag so the three of them could continue.

"Open sponsor shop," Ares whispered as they went.

Nothing, just as there had been all the time before now. Which meant someone on the outside must have sent the canteen.

"Hey, thoughtful sponsors!" he shouted, holding his arms up to the sky. "Be real useful if you could send us some medicine or painkillers or something!"

The world around them was very quiet, until Wonder began to cough. It worsened until she stopped and doubled over, continuing to hack and gasp. She spat up blood, crashing to her knees.

"Wonder?" Apollo asked, reaching out to her.

"Can't– breathe–" she rasped. Her sides heaved, and she brought up more blood. Iridescence was digging through her bag, but she was coming up with nothing.

Wonder fell onto her side, her eyes rolling back in her head as she began to convulse.

"Wonder!" Ares called, reaching for her.

Iridescence caught his shoulders. "It's too late."

"But I don't understand what's happening!"

Wonder slowly fell still, her heaving breaths steadily growing more shallow.

"I think there was something in the water," Iridescence said.

"But it was a sponsor gift! Not from the arena!"

"The Gamemakers in this run of The Game aren't here to play fair."

A canon boomed.