Disclaimer: I don't own The Hunger Games.

Note: First, just a heads-up about a change to the training chapters format. Instead of three chapters with 8-9 POVs each, I decided on six chapters with 8-9 POVs each, so each tribute will be getting two training POVs.

The results of the "favorite tribute" poll are up on the website. There's a new poll on my profile, asking who you think will die in the bloodbath. This one will be up until the end of training. No, this doesn't actually have any effect on who will die in the bloodbath. It's mostly to give me an idea of whether my current bloodbath choices are a good mix of predictable and unexpected, and give you the chance to say "Ha, I called it!" if you guess right. The poll that will actually have some effect on what happens will be up after this one.

Lastly, it appears that email alerts are still down, so ... yeah. That's a thing. Hopefully they get fixed soon.

Training Day One – Morning
The Greatest Rewards

Rook Jubilee, 12
District Six

He had to figure out the best place to start.

Rook twirled his plastic rook in his pocket as the head trainer gave them a rundown of the various stations before letting them enter the training area. "Weapons stations are to the right. There's pretty much anything you could want, but if there's a weapon you don't see, let one of the trainers know, and we'll do our best to find one for you. There will be trainers available to spar with, so please refrain from fighting each other – with one exception. If you find you absolutely can't put off the urge to fight the other tributes until the arena, please direct your attention to the far corner of the room and the padded staffs. Tribute-on-tribute fighting is allowed in that area only, and my fellow trainers and I will step in to stop you if we feel you've gone too far."

Rook heard a snort from behind him. One of the Careers. "Is that because of what Proxima did last year?"

The head trainer smirked. "No comment. Fighting amongst yourselves elsewhere is forbidden and will be dealt with accordingly. In the middle of the room, you'll find some aerobics and weights stations – climbing, weight-lifting, and the like. The door at the far end of the room there leads to the swimming pool, a relatively new addition that we're quite proud of."

Rook grasped the chess piece in his pocket, startled. Lana hadn't told him about that. Maybe she'd forgotten. Maybe it was new this year. Maybe that would be a good place to start. He had no idea how to swim. Was it something he would be able to learn in a few days? That seemed a more likely possibility than becoming proficient with a weapon in three days, but there were guaranteed to be weapons in the arena. There wasn't always a body of water large enough for swimming. What if he spent his time now learning how to swim, and there was actually nowhere in the arena it would be useful?

"–like first aid, fire-starting, and camouflage," the trainer continued, describing some of the survival stations. Those are to your left. On the far left, there's a door leading outside to another one of our newer additions, an opportunity to interact with some of the wildlife that may or may not be present in the arena."

Rook shook his head. Lana had told him about that. Rumor had it, she'd said, that one of the tributes a few years ago had asked for a horse during his private session, and the Gamemakers had decided to make some mutts available during training for the tributes to interact with. Unfortunately, Lana said, that sounded a lot more exciting than it really was, because they obviously couldn't bring in anything that would put the tributes in danger.

So they'd decided on some horses for riding practice, as well as a variety of squirrels, rabbits, and other small rodents for hunting practice. Some fish for fishing, a cow for milking. But what were the chances there would actually be a cow in the arena? What were the chances that any mutt big enough to ride would be anything like a horse? No, the new addition was probably flashy enough to distract some of the tributes, but it was probably just a waste of time.

Probably. That was the problem. There were very few things that were guaranteed to be useful in the arena. The fire-starting station, for example, was useless if there weren't any trees or some other sort of kindling in the arena. The plant station would only be helpful if the arena had plants, and some of the indoor ones hadn't. Weapons, on the other hand…

Weapons were a guarantee. Well, almost a guarantee. And even during years when weapons at the cornucopia had been sparse or absent, there had been weapons elsewhere – or something that could be used as a weapon. But three days wasn't really enough time to learn how to use a weapon well. And he was small. Smaller than practically everyone else he could see, except one of the younger girls, the girl from Ten who rushed past with her district partner as the doors opened, heading immediately for the door on the far left.

Rook watched as the other tributes made their way past him. The boy from Nine gave him a nudge. "Don't think too hard about it, huh? Just pick a station and try something." He hurried off after his district partner. "Come on!"

Rook hesitated. Come on. Was that an invitation? Was the boy expecting him to follow? But he hadn't waited, and didn't turn back to see if Rook was following him. Maybe he hadn't meant it as an offer to follow him specifically. But what if he had? Did he even want to follow him? The boy hadn't said where he was going. And why would he have picked Rook to invite?

"You can come with me if you like." Another unfamiliar voice, and a hand on his shoulder. Rook shrunk away from the touch, his eyes flicking up to the girl from Seven. That one certainly had been an offer to come with her specifically, but why? Why would she ask him, of all people? Was she just being kind? But why would someone in the Hunger Games want to be kind?

Rook shook his head. "Thanks, but I … I think I'd like to be alone for now."

The girl cocked her head, but then shrugged and followed the other tributes inside. "Suit yourself."

Rook took a deep breath. Something useful. Something that was guaranteed to be useful. First aid. That would come in handy. Maybe that would be a good place to start. Of course, starting by assuming he would get hurt at some point during the Games seemed a bit pessimistic. But maybe it was just being realistic. Even the tributes who eventually won the Games almost always got hurt at some point. Lana and Duke certainly had.

Yes, that was a good way to think about it. Rook nodded to himself and headed for the first aid station.

He just hoped this was the right place to start.

Edwina Rowan, 16
District Eight

"Where are you planning to start?"

Edwina glanced up at Diyon, who was watching her expectantly. "I was thinking traps," she ventured. Considering her size, luring tributes into traps seemed like a better option than facing them in a fair fight. Carolina had agreed, and had also suggested that poisonous plants and insects might be worth her time. And that made sense, but there was no guarantee that certain plants or insects would be available in the arena. There would almost certainly be something to make a trap out of.

Diyon nodded approvingly. "Good choice. Mind if I join you?"

Edwina shrugged. "Can't exactly stop you."

"No, but if you'd rather I found something else…"

Edwina chuckled. "It's fine. I don't have any secret skills with traps that I'm worried about you finding out about." She smirked. "Do you?"

Diyon smirked. "No. If I did, that's not where I'd want to start. We've only got three days here. No point in focusing on something you already know."

"Tell that to the Careers." Edwina nodded towards the weapons stations, where a few of the Careers were already practicing while the others watched.

Diyon shrugged as they headed for the traps station. "Different strategy. They're showing off – want to prove to each other that they're good enough to be in the pack, even though it doesn't look like they're in much of a position to start kicking people out this year."

Edwina nodded. "You mean because District Four isn't exactly Career material this time?"

"Exactly. That leaves six of them out of twenty-six."

"What about District Twelve?"

"What about them?"

"They had a volunteer the last two years. The one last year joined the pack."

"Didn't do him much good," Diyon pointed out.

Edwina shrugged. "Killing him didn't do them much good, either. None of them won."

"Fair enough. But I figure they only let him join in the first place because they were short a tribute, what with Prospero not being a Career. The boy from Twelve brought the number up to six again. So unless they start losing members, I don't think they'll be looking to recruit."

Edwina nodded. "Not our problem in any case, I suppose."

"What do you mean?"

Edwina scoffed. "I mean, look at us. They'd have to get pretty desperate before they started to think about recruiting us. And it's not like we were planning to go after them or anything. So it doesn't really matter much how many of them there end up being."

"Not at first," Diyon agreed. "But the fewer of them there are at the start, the quicker their numbers might begin to dwindle."

Edwina shrugged as they sat down at the traps station next to a trainer who looked delighted that someone had actually dropped by this early on the first day. "Maybe."

Diyon cocked his head. "What do you mean?"

Edwina shook her head. "Nothing. We should just get started."

"No, now I'm curious. What did you mean?"

"You really want to know?"

"Of course."

Edwina hesitated. He seemed to genuinely want her opinion, which was … well, unusual. Her parents certainly never had. Most of the rest of the district never seemed to, either, lumping her in with her family name without asking what she thought. Maybe it was a little thing, but Diyon seemed … interested in what she was thinking. He'd asked where she'd wanted to go, and hadn't argued or tried to persuade her to try something else.

It felt good.

"It just seems like … well, the years when there are more Careers in the pack, it actually seems to fall apart faster, because more of them means there's more tension inside the pack. If there are only five or six of them, maybe they're a bit more vulnerable to threats from the outside, but if there are more, it's easier for the pack to fracture, and that seems to turn out worse for them. I mean, think about it. Prospero wasn't a Career last year, but the year before that, Aramis won. Do you remember how many were in the pack that year?"

Diyon thought for a moment. "Six, but … two of them died in the bloodbath, didn't they?"

Edwina nodded. "Which you would think would make the pack weaker, right? But the four who were left – they lasted until almost the end of the Games, and didn't split up until there were only a handful of tributes left."

"You've got a good memory."

Edwina shrugged. "It was a memorable year. Once Eight's tributes are dead, I don't usually pay much attention, but … well, have to admit I was rooting for Twelve that year. After ours were gone, of course." That hadn't taken long. The girl had died in the bloodbath, and the boy had been killed by the Careers the next day.

Diyon nodded. "So what you're saying is, we should be hoping that the Careers are actually looking for more recruits, so that they'll turn on each other?"

"No, I'm just saying that just because a pack is small doesn't necessarily mean that they're vulnerable, if they work well together and know what they're doing. The pack that year did."

"The tributes from Twelve knew what they were doing, too," Diyon pointed out. "My money would've been on them, if I was a gambler."

"Really?" asked a small voice from behind them. Edwina turned to see the girl from Twelve watching them, trying to hide the tears that were welling in her eyes. Edwina glanced back at Diyon. Had he known she was there? Had he been trying to attract her attention? Then again, she was the one who had brought up the 53rd Games, and District Twelve. Maybe it was just a coincidence.

Diyon nodded. "Absolutely … Ellie, isn't it?"

The girl nodded. "Yes." She wiped away a few tears. "I'm sorry. It's just that … the tributes that year, Winter and Ajax … they were–"

"They were your friends," Diyon realized. "I thought I recognized you – from the interviews, I mean. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to make it sound like I'd be betting on their lives. I just–"

"No, it's all right," Ellie said softly. "I thought they were going to win, too. Well, thought one of them was going to win." She looked away. "I didn't mean to interrupt. I'll let you get back to…"

"Traps," Diyon finished. "And we hadn't really even started yet." He smiled warmly.

"Would you like to join us?"

Anahi Cassidy, 13
District Eleven

"Mind if I join you?"

Anahi looked up in surprise as the girl from Seven took a seat next to her at the spear-making station. It had seemed like a good place to start, especially since she wasn't counting on being able to get any weapons from the cornucopia. Maybe a wooden makeshift spear wouldn't do much good in a fight against someone with a real weapon, but it could still be useful for hunting, and it might be enough to scare away a non-Career if they saw she had a weapon.

Maybe that was a bit of a stretch, but it was something. It was a place to start. That was all she'd been looking for, really. Just somewhere to start. Somewhere that had seemed useful but not overly intimidating.

Intimidating. That was just about the right word for the girl who had sat down next to her, with her pulled-back hair revealing a scar along her jawline and her sleeves rolled up to show her muscles. Anahi looked away, trying to avoid staring at the scar. That was rude. But was making a point of not looking ruder? "Fine with me," she said softly.

"I was going to try the axe station," the older girl ventured. "But the Careers are over there right now, and it's probably best to stay out of their way."

"Probably," Anahi agreed. It was good to know that even someone older and stronger didn't think it was a good idea to be anywhere near the Careers.

"I'm sure they'll move along eventually."

Anahi nodded, but that didn't quite seem like enough. The other girl was trying to be friendly. "You use a lot of axes back in Seven?"

The older girl nodded. "Yeah, but I figured it'd still be good to get some practice in. I'm used to using them on trees, and … well, trees don't move. Or fight back." She chuckled. "Well, not usually, anyway."

"What?"

"Those branches can be pretty feisty sometimes." She ran her fingers along her scar, and Anahi couldn't help noticing a few smaller ones along her arms. "I guess the jobs in Eleven probably aren't quite as dangerous, huh?"

"No, I guess not." She froze. "Wait. I never said I had a job."

A puzzled expression crossed the other girl's face. "Sorry, I just assumed you were old enough. You're what, fourteen? Fifteen?"

"Thirteen."

"Really?"

Anahi nodded. "Just tall for my age."

The older girl smiled. "I started at the mill when I was thirteen, but I guess maybe things are different in other districts."

"No, I … I do have a job, actually."

"But you just said–"

"I said I hadn't told you I had a job. It's … it's complicated."

The older girl cocked her head. "What do you mean?"

Anahi looked away. "My parents don't know. None of my family does, except Anastasia. I told her she might have to get one too, but I don't know if…"

"Ah, one of those kind of jobs."

"What?"

The girl shrugged. "It's nothing to be ashamed of. We all do what we have to. And looking a bit older probably helps, I suppose."

Anahi blinked. "Wait, what?"

"Not likely to end up with scars, either," the older girl mused. "Unless the customer's into that sort of thing."

"What?" Anahi stared. "You think I'm a…" She could feel her face growing red. "I'm a fruit picker! We climb up and pick fruit! I would never–" She froze as she realized she was shouting. A few of the other tributes were staring at her. Anahi's mind raced. They knew now. They all knew. If word got back to her parents…

Then what? What would they do? Nothing. They couldn't do anything to her. No one could. She started to giggle, and soon, she was laughing. The other girl was laughing, too. Slowly, the other tributes returned their attention to whatever they'd been doing, but Anahi kept laughing, tears welling up in her eyes. "I pick fruit!" she shouted, and nearly doubled over with laughter.

The older girl stopped laughing long enough to gasp out, "What's so … complicated … about that?"

Anahi caught her breath. "My parents … wouldn't approve. They don't think girls should have jobs."

"Why?"

"Because that's the boys' job."

"What if there aren't any boys?" the older girl asked matter-of-factly.

"What?"

The girl shrugged. "My father died when I was little. It was just my mother and me, and then my aunt and her kids, and my little half-sisters. But then my aunt died, and my mother's not really around, so I got a job at the mill. Would they have a problem with that?"

"Are your cousins boys?"

She chuckled. "Yeah, but Moby's only eight, and Jaime's seven. You're telling me they should go get jobs?"

Anahi looked away. "No." Maybe her parents would think so, but … well, they had never encouraged Andreas to get a job, and he was only a year younger than her. And she had told Anastasia that she should get one, even though she was only eleven. It had never occurred to her to ask Andreas instead, because he never seemed to care about taking care of the other children. That wasn't his job.

So what was his job?

The older girl laid a hand gently on hers. "Hey, at least fruit picking means you know how to do something that might be useful in the Games."

Anahi chuckled. "Right. I'm sure the arena will be full of fruit trees."

"You never know. It was a garden a few years ago. And climbing up a tree's probably not too different from climbing anything else. Never hurts to be able to get away from trouble."

Anahi nodded. "I guess not."

"What's your name?"

"Anahi."

The other girl held out her hand. "Good to meet you, Anahi. I'm Galadriel."

"Galadriel," Anahi repeated, trying out the sound. "That's a pretty name." She smiled and shook Galadriel's hand.

"It's good to meet you, too."

Olly Campos, 16
District Eleven

It was good that she had found someone.

Olly hid a smile as he watched Anahi from his position at the shelter-building station. He certainly hadn't been about to offer to be her ally, but … well, it was good that she had found someone. And apparently she was a fruit-picker. He hadn't been close enough to hear what had prompted that outburst, but it wasn't as if it was a secret that a lot of the younger kids in Eleven got jobs as fruit-pickers while they were still light and agile enough to make it higher up in the trees. It certainly wasn't anything to get excited about.

"That's your district partner, right?"

Olly looked up to see one of the tributes from Thirteen. "Sure is. Ophiuchus, right?"

The older tribute nodded and held out their hand. "Olly, isn't it? Short for Oleander, if I recall correctly."

Olly rolled his eyes. "Yeah, just Olly."

"Not too fond of being named after a flower?"

Olly chuckled. "What gave it away?"

"Especially a poisonous one, I suppose."

Olly shrugged. "I wasn't exactly planning to go around eating flowers just because we happen to share a name."

Ophiuchus nodded. "No, but my mentor told me that sometimes tributes end up eating things like flowers and bark in the arena if they run out of food. I suppose that's why there's a station on poisonous plants."

"An empty station on poisonous plants," Olly pointed out, nodding towards the lone trainer at the station. "Do you know how many thousands of species of plants there are? If you don't already know now which ones are safe to eat and which ones aren't, would you bet your life on being able to remember that kind of thing after only a few days? Would you be certain – really certain – that you got the exact leaf shape or berry color right?"

Ophiuchus cocked their head. "Would you?"

Olly chuckled. "You don't see me over there trying to cram information about plants, do you?"

"No, you're building a shelter."

"Exactly. Pretty slim chance of seeing any of those exact plants in the arena. Pretty good chance of needing somewhere safe to sleep. I like these odds better. Besides, if you get enough stuff from the cornucopia and sponsors, you don't have to worry about eating leaves. That sounds like a better option to me."

"You could also coat a weapon with poison," Ophiuchus offered.

"You could," Olly agreed. "But why would you bother lacing a weapon with poison and then stabbing someone when you could just … stab them? Seems a bit unnecessary."

"Not a lot of tributes seem interested in the weapons stations, either," Ophiuchus observed. "I would have expected more tributes to want some practice with those. This is a fight to the death, after all. But it seems to be mainly the Careers over there."

"Mainly," Olly agreed. The Careers had moved on to the sword station. The boy from Four was over at the dagger station, and the pair from Nine were messing around at the archery station. Well, the boy was messing around, doing more posing than actual shooting. The girl seemed to be mostly watching him. Olly shook his head. "But think about it. If you're not already good with a weapon, you're not going to get good in three days. What you will get is tired, sore, and sweaty. It's still early on the first day, though. Most of the tributes will probably wait a little while, get their feet wet, and then decide to give some of the weapons a try."

"Will you?"

Olly shrugged. "Probably not."

"And your district partner?"

Olly glanced over at Anahi. "What she does is her own business."

"You're not working with her, then?"

"No."

"Is that usual? Do district partners usually work together?"

"Sometimes. Sometimes not." He glanced around. "Where's yours?"

"She went to have a look at the … mutts, I believe. But I don't think we'll be working together. I may have upset her on the train."

Olly snorted. "Did you ask her too many questions?"

"Maybe. Were my questions bothering you?"

Olly smirked. "No, I don't mind questions. And you're doing very well – asking the right kind of questions."

"The right kind of questions for a beginner?"

"The right kind of questions for someone who wants people to think they're a beginner. I've seen that at the card table sometimes – people who come in asking how the game works, and then end up taking the rest of the players to the cleaners. 'Do district partners usually work together?' 'Are you going to try some of the weapons?' Did you really expect anyone to buy that?"

Ophiuchus' face was blank. Too blank. There was having a poker face, and there was having too much poker face. Olly rolled his eyes. "Look, if Thirteen had ended up with some morons from the Capitol as mentors, maybe you could get away with that. But no one's going to believe you spent more than a day on a train with Harakuise and didn't pick up more than a few basics."

Ophiuchus nodded. "He seems to have quite a reputation."

"He does."

"And your mentor?"

Olly shrugged. "He's nothing special, but he gets the job done. Won the Games, uses the money to take care of his family, tries to help kids like me survive. I reckon he's all right." Elijah had been friendly enough on the train, after all. "No matter how good your mentor is, though, once you're in the Games, it's up to you. They may be the ones to find you sponsors, but they're not going to find any if you don't show the audience why you deserve some."

Ophiuchus nodded. "Thank you, Olly."

"Anytime."

"And now if you don't mind, I'll think I'll go have a look at those plants."

Olly shrugged. "Suit yourself." He turned his attention – or at least some of it – back to the shelter he was building as Ophiuchus wandered off towards the plant station, where the trainer was delighted to see them coming. Olly nodded.

They were certainly worth keeping an eye on.

Ellie Danvers, 14
District Twelve

No one seemed to be keeping an eye on them.

Ellie glanced around the room as she followed Diyon and Edwina over to the fire-starting station. Most of the other tributes seemed to be busy with one thing or another. The Careers had moved on to the archery station, while the pair from Nine had joined the boy from Four at the dagger station. The girls from Seven and Eleven had moved on to the axe station, and Elio was practicing at the spear station.

Ellie took a seat next to the pair from Eight, but couldn't help another glance over at Elio. He wasn't with the pack – or even anywhere near them, really. And they certainly weren't paying any attention to him. Kyra had told her that he'd been training with Brennan, but maybe he was waiting for them to approach him. Or maybe he wasn't planning on joining up with the pack at all, after what had happened to Logan last year.

"Think he might be interested in joining us?" Diyon asked, noticing where she was looking.

Ellie shook her head. "I doubt it." Probably best to leave it at that. Kyra hadn't told her to keep it a secret that Elio had been training, but if he didn't want to advertise it, that was his business. "Why are you so interested in District Twelve?" she asked instead.

Diyon cocked his head. "What makes you think I'm interested in District Twelve?"

"We're not usually people's first choice for allies."

Diyon shrugged. "Neither is District Eight. Look at us." He nodded at himself and Edwina. "If they can't find someone with weapons experience, most people would be looking for someone with survival skills. Someone who knows their way around the woods like tributes from Seven, or who knows plants like someone from Nine or Eleven. But District Eight? What have we got?"

"Clothes?" Ellie offered lamely.

Diyon chuckled. "Exactly. Pretty much the one thing you're guaranteed to already have with you in the arena. And even if you find yourself in a position where you need more clothes, it's not as if we really know how to make clothes from scratch – not without a factory, at least."

Ellie nodded. "So you have to settle for whatever allies you can get. Is that it?"

"Maybe, to a point," Diyon admitted. "But you're right that I had my eye on District Twelve."

"Why?"

"Because of your reputation."

Ellie looked away. Their reputation. Logan had caught the audience's attention last year. Winter and Ajax had done the same the year before. If he was expecting the same thing from her, he was going to be disappointed. "I don't think I'm what you're looking for, then," she admitted quietly.

"What makes you say that?"

"I'm not … Look, you're a volunteer. The audience is going to be watching you. The other tributes are going to be paying attention to you. I'm not … Well, I don't think I can help much with that."

Diyon cocked his head. "You think I want the other tributes' attention? You think I want the Careers' attention?"

"Maybe not, but the audience…"

"You think they'll give a damn that I volunteered? This year, of all years? With so many volunteers? With two volunteers from Thirteen? You really think they'll be watching me?"

"I … I guess not," Ellie admitted.

"I hope not," Edwina agreed, and Diyon nodded his approval.

Ellie hesitated. So they were trying to avoid attention. That made sense. But then what had he meant about District Twelve's reputation? "You weren't talking about the fact that Twelve is training Careers," she realized. "Or how many volunteers we've had recently."

"No."

"Then what–"

Diyon leaned forward. "During the 41st Games, nearly every district participated in the rebellion, with four exceptions. One, Two, Five … and Twelve. Your district remained loyal, and it's no secret that what Brennan's built in Twelve since then, what he's accomplished for his district, was only possible because of that loyalty. I want that for my district, Ellie. I want to be that for them. So I need allies who are prepared to play the Games, no matter what that might look like. Even if those allies aren't particularly flashy and may not grab the audience's attention. People who are practical and willing to do what has to be done." The hint of a smile flickered on his face. "Does that sound a bit more like you?"

Ellie opened her mouth, but then closed it again. He had a point. Whether it was deserved or not, District Twelve had a reputation for loyalty. And maybe … well, maybe it was deserved. There wasn't much love for the Capitol in Twelve – and certainly no love for the Games – but there was … what? Acceptance? Resignation? Even Ajax and Winter had done their best to appeal to the audience, and had known better than to say anything against the Games themselves. It had probably never even occurred to them.

It certainly hadn't occurred to her. Was that the same thing as loyalty? Maybe. Maybe not. Maybe it didn't matter, as long as it looked like it. That was what seemed to matter to Diyon, as well – the appearance of loyalty, the reputation for it. Maybe that was good enough. Ellie nodded. "I guess it does."

"No pressure, of course," Diyon assured her. "I think this morning's gone pretty well, but … well, if it doesn't seem like a good fit to you, or if you think you can do better, I won't hold it against you. We're all just trying to survive, after all."

Ellie nodded. She did want to survive. But Diyon probably knew as well as she did that she wasn't likely to get a better offer. They were both older than her, stronger than her. Maybe neither of them was particularly impressive physically, but the three of them together certainly stood a better chance than she would alone. And who else was going to think of asking her?

This was the best chance she was going to get.

Karina Wheeler, 18
District Thirteen

This was probably the best chance she was going to get.

Karina scooped a generous helping of potatoes onto her plate and glanced around at the tables. The Careers had already settled down at a large table in the center of the room. A few smaller groups had also formed. The pair from Eight were sitting with the girl from Twelve. The girls from Seven and Eleven were at a small table in the corner. The pair from Nine were chatting in the line behind her. Well, the boy was chatting. At the moment, he was chatting with – or, rather, chatting at – the girl from Three.

Karina scanned the other tables, where most of the other tributes who weren't still in line were sitting by themselves. She didn't see the boy from Six, but the girl was sitting at one of the nearby tables, already digging into a plate full of food. Karina could feel her grip tighten on her tray, but she took a few steps closer. "Anyone sitting here?"

The younger girl looked up. "No, go ahead. Thirteen, huh?"

Karina nodded and took a seat. There had been a few options for their training uniforms – a long-sleeve or short-sleeve shirt, pants or shorts, an assortment of bandanas and hair ties – but all of them had their district number somewhere on them. "Yeah, but not … well, not originally. I'm actually originally from Six."

The other girl nodded. "Feeling a bit homesick? Is that it?"

"I…" Karina hesitated. Homesick wasn't exactly the right word. It wasn't that she missed District Six – not anymore than she had for the last few years. Even if it were possible, she would never really have wanted to go back. She could feel her face growing red. "I guess I was just looking for … something familiar. I don't know. I can go if–"

"No, it's all right. I was just trying to … break the ice, I guess. I'm Christina."

"Karina."

"So what's it like in Thirteen? All we got to see from the tape of the reapings was the square, and … well, one square looks pretty much like any other, really. What's the rest of it like?"

"Well, most of it's still underground."

Christina nodded. "So how does that work, exactly? What do you do for light? For food? Fresh air? Do you have to go down a bunch of creaky stairs or–"

Karina giggled. "No. No, there are elevators. And electricity. It's not like we're living inside a tiny cave down there."

"What about food? Plants need sunlight, don't they?"

"Yeah. Most of the plants come from the greenhouses. The artificial light is close enough to sunlight. Animals are a bit harder, so meat's rarer, but we do pretty well with fish. And some people go up to the surface to hunt and set traps. Big game's pretty rare, but there are things like squirrels and rabbits."

Christina smiled. "I thought I saw you at the mutt station earlier."

Karina nodded. She'd spent the morning catching and releasing some of the smaller mutts. "Guess I just wanted to start with something…"

"Familiar?"

"Yeah."

Christina cocked her head. "Interesting."

"What?"

"How'd someone like you end up in Thirteen?"

"What do you mean by that?"

"I don't know. I guess if I was trying to imagine what sort of person might take off into the wilderness looking for a long-lost district, I'd picture someone who would jump at any chance to try something new, jump in and do … well, everything."

Karina chuckled. "Wait, do you think I just … took off one day and went off searching for District Thirteen?"

Christina hesitated. "I … That is sort of what I was picturing, I guess. How did you get there?" For a moment, there was silence. "If you don't mind me asking," Christina added quickly. "If you don't want to tell anyone, that's–"

"No, it's all right," Karina interrupted. "Nicodemus warned me people would be asking. And they'll definitely ask during the interviews. It's just … it's a long story."

Christina shrugged. "So practice on me. Pretend I'm Malchus." She cleared her throat and continued in a dramatic Capitol accent. "So tell me, Karina, how did you get to District Thirteen?"

Karina couldn't help a chuckle. When Christina gave her an exaggeratedly stern look of disapproval, she did her best to wipe the smile off her face and give the answer she'd practiced with Nicodemus. "I was in a gang back in Six. It was … rough. All the stealing, the fighting, the run-ins with the other gangs and with the Peacekeepers. And it was never the ones in charge who got the worst of it. They were just giving the orders. It was people like me doing the dirty work – and people like me who took the blame when we got caught. I wanted out, but … well, it's not like you can just tell them you want to leave. But one day, I had a chance to get away, and I … I took it. I made a break for the edge of the district, and when I got out, some people from Thirteen found me. I wasn't looking for them, but … it all turned out pretty well, I guess." She hesitated. "How was that?"

Christina raised an eyebrow. "Vague, but I'm guessing that was deliberate. The audience loves a good mystery."

Karina nodded. They would probably like that better than they would like all the details. "Thanks."

For a moment, there was silence, but then she heard a voice behind her. "Sounds like you were in the wrong sort of gang."

Karina turned around, startled. She must have been louder than she'd thought. But she hadn't said anything they wouldn't hear at the interviews, anyway. "What do you mean?"

The boy from Three took a seat next to her. "Good leaders don't just give people orders and step back. They lead the way. They help. That's what Vex does – our leader." He smiled a little. "I'm Elseri. Mind if I join you?"

Christina nodded. "Go right ahead."

Hattie Hespeler, 13
District Three

"Go right ahead."

Hattie took another bite of her chicken, her back still turned to the trio behind her – the girls from Six and Thirteen, and her own district partner. They hadn't seen her. Or, more likely, they had seen her and just hadn't cared. No one ever seemed to care whether she was listening. And it wasn't as if they were off in a corner somewhere, after all. They were right near the end of the serving table. Anyone could be listening.

Of course, so far, they hadn't said anything that people wouldn't find out eventually. The girl from Thirteen had been practicing for the interview, after all. This was probably exactly what she would say then. Hattie couldn't help wondering what 'I had the chance to get away' had meant. Lynch's contacts hadn't been able to dig up much on either of the tributes from Thirteen. But the girl from Six…

"Your leader, Vex – that's the boy you volunteered for, isn't it?" the girl from Six, Christina, asked.

"Yes."

"So the fact that you're sitting here preparing for the Hunger Games instead of him – you call that being a good leader?" the girl from Thirteen, Karina, asked.

"That's different," Elseri insisted. "He didn't force me to volunteer. He didn't even ask me. I wanted to."

"For him?" asked Karina.

"For all of them. The rest of the Fireflies – they'd be lost without him."

"Fireflies?" That was Christina.

"That's what we call ourselves. Did your gang have a name, Karina?"

"No. I mean, I guess the other gangs probably called us 61B."

"Why?"

"Because we all lived in a building on 61st street … on floor B. Not very creative, huh?"

Esleri chuckled. "Not exactly, no."

"So why fireflies?" Christina asked.

After a moment, Elseri answered. "You don't get many of them in Three. Only in the richer areas of the district, where there's more grass. Probably a bunch of them up in Victors' Village. But when you get more than a few of them, with the way their lights blink on and off, not always in sync, it's hard to tell exactly how many of them there are. So even if you only see one or two at a time … you always know there are more. That's how it is with the gang. Even when you're only with one or two of them, you still feel like they're all right there with you, just waiting to turn their lights on."

"That's … pretty neat," Christina admitted.

"A lot better than 61B," Karina added, and the three of them chuckled.

Hattie fought to keep from shaking her head, which might let them know that she was listening. Of course, having friends was a good thing – and that was all he was talking about, really. Having friends who would have your back. She had friends, too, after all. But you could have friends without going around stealing and threatening other people who were just going about their day. You could have friends without causing a riot. You could have friends without getting people killed.

People who also had friends.

Hattie waited, listening, until the bell rang for the end of lunch. Well, the end of them serving lunch, at least. Tributes could keep eating as long as they wanted, and she did so – until she heard the trio behind her stand up to go. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Elseri gather up their trays and head over to put them away. Quickly, Hattie whirled around and grabbed Christina's arm. "Be careful," she hissed under her breath before turning and hurrying off towards the bathroom.

Christina didn't follow her. Not immediately. Hattie waited a moment, and then another, resisting the urge to poke her head out the door and see if anyone was coming. Finally, the door creaked open, and Christina stepped inside, glancing behind her. "What was that about?"

Hattie kept her voice low. "Elseri – my district partner. I just thought someone should tell you. He's dangerous."

Christina shrugged. "This is the Hunger Games. Everyone's dangerous."

Hattie nodded. "Maybe. But not everyone's already a killer. He and his friends … they killed a Peacekeeper back in Three. If they could do that to Fritz…"

"Fritz?"

Bingo. Hattie tried not to let the satisfaction show on her face. "Yeah. His name was Fritz. I used to see him sometimes, down by the community home. I didn't know him that well, but he seemed nice … for a Peacekeeper, I guess."

Christina nodded. "Yeah. Some of them are. Funny how you don't really think of them as people until … well, until you get to know one or two."

"Yeah." She still remembered the first time she'd worked up the guts to approach Lynch. He'd been intimidating at first, but now … now he was just another person. One who happened to be a Peacekeeper. Most of the other tributes probably wouldn't understand that, but Christina…

That had been one of the more surprising bits of information – that Peacekeepers in the other districts had seen Christina around, that some of them had recognized her as someone who sold things. One of the rail kids, Nash had said, as if that was a perfectly normal thing. Maybe it was. One or two of them had even seen her talking to Fritz on occasion. Of course, that didn't necessarily mean they were close, but…

But it was worth a shot. A shot that, to judge from Christina's expression, had hit the mark. "Why are you telling me?" she asked, trying a little too hard to keep her expression neutral.

Hattie looked away. "Look, maybe I shouldn't have. You're competition, after all. And so's he. Most of us will be dead soon. But if the Gamemakers decide to go after him…"

She trailed off. Christina's imagination could fill in the rest. Dying was one thing. Being targeted by the Gamemakers was another. If they really wanted to make an example of someone, they could make it slow, painful, gruesome. And if someone else happened to be nearby … well, the Gamemakers probably didn't care who else might get caught in the crossfire. Christina nodded.

"Thanks for letting me know."

Bellona Harlow, 18
District One

"Shouldn't we focus on something we don't already know?"

Bellona tried to hide a smile, glad that someone had finally said it, but also glad that it hadn't been her. The other Careers immediately turned to look at Euphoria, who continued, unbothered by the sudden attention – or maybe even glad about it. "I think we've all proven our point by now. Swords, spears, axes, archery – we're all top notch. No worries about whether any of us should be part of the pack. And there are six of us, so no need to think that we should start making cuts. So … now what?"

Lily smirked. "What's the matter? They didn't teach you any survival skills in Five?"

Euphoria didn't take the bait. "Maybe we should find out. See how we all stack up at the fire-starting station, or climbing, or swimming."

Clive nudged Lily. "Watch, she'll probably suggest first aid next."

Bellona raised an eyebrow. "You don't think first aid would be important? You planning to make it through the Games without any sort of injury at all? When's the last time that happened?"

Leven shrugged. "There's a first time for everything, Bell."

Bellona took a step towards him. "Don't call me Bell."

Leven chuckled. "Whoa, easy there. Didn't mean to ruffle any feathers, Bellona. If you want to go check out the bandages and ointments, no one's stopping you. Last I checked, there wasn't a rule that said the pack had to spend every moment of training together."

He was right, of course. Now that they'd settled on the fact that all six of them were in the pack, there was no particular reason not to split up. She turned to Euphoria. "You suggested swimming?"

Euphoria shrugged. "It was just a thought. Something to change the pace a little bit. If there's something you'd rather try, that's fine. I just figured, since we don't have either of District Four's tributes in the pack this year, it might be worthwhile to brush up on something that's usually their speciality."

Leven cocked his head. "You seemed pretty interested in District Four on the train, too."

"Really?" Clive asked. "Why?"

"She said she thought it was interesting that neither of them was a volunteer, considering the advantage they might have this year."

"Advantage?" Lily asked.

"Because of what Imalia did," Euphoria reasoned. "Look, I didn't mean anything by it. I just thought it would be a good year for volunteers from Four; that's all."

"Makes sense," Ross agreed. "I'd be up for a swim, if that's where we're headed."

But now there was a strange smile on Lily's face. "You're right. Having a tribute or two from Four would be an advantage, wouldn't it."

Euphoria shrugged. "Maybe, but I don't think either of them is exactly pack material."

"But how do we know that?" Lily pressed. "There have been younger tributes in the pack before."

Bellona shook her head. "Fourteen-year-olds?"

"A few times, yes," Leven supplied. "Younger, even. During the last Quarter Quell–"

"That was different," Bellona interrupted. "There weren't any volunteers that year, so that pack had to take whoever they could get. That's not the position we're in this year. There are already six of us."

"No harm in making it seven," Clive reasoned.

Euphoria shook her head. "You're seriously suggesting we let one of them join the pack just because they're from Four?"

Lily shrugged. "Maybe, if they pass the test."

"What test?" Bellona asked.

Lily nodded towards the staffs station in the corner. "They said tributes could fight each other as long as they use padded staffs. Doesn't look like there's been any activity over there."

Bellona shook her head. "Look, we all know they only added that because they don't want a repeat of what happened last year." The tributes from One, Proxima and Maxim, had both wanted to lead the pack. According to Jasper, they'd argued frequently during training – an argument that had culminated in a fight between the two after hours the night before the Games, after they had supposedly gone to bed. The fight had left them both bruised and aching at the worst possible time, and Maxim had been in particularly bad shape. The trainers this year were clearly trying to provide an outlet for things like that to be resolved without jeopardizing anyone's fitness for the Games. They hadn't meant…

"Makes sense," Clive agreed, grinning. "Obviously, neither of them is going to be up to our standards, but if they manage to make it for … oh, say a minute or so at the station without the trainer having to step in and call off the fight, they can join – on a probationary level, obviously."

Bellona glared at Clive. This was a bad idea. He probably knew it was a bad idea, too, and was just egging Lily on because it was … what? Interesting? Dramatic? A good laugh? Lily and Clive were already heading off towards the other side of the room, with Leven and Ross close on their heels. Euphoria turned to Bellona. "We could still just go swimming."

Bellona shook her head. "No, we should tag along to make sure this doesn't get out of hand."

Euphoria nodded, and they followed the others. But Bellona couldn't help the feeling that it was already out of hand. If they wanted any chance of getting the pack back on track, they needed to find a way to rein Lily in.

"Maybe if we let her have her fun now, she'll get bored and go back to swinging swords at dummies," Bellona offered.

Euphoria nodded, but she didn't look convinced. And Bellona couldn't blame her for that. Lily's enthusiasm would be an asset, of course, once they were actually in the arena – once there were actually people for her to fight. They just had to make it through the next few days, and then she could be as unhinged as she wanted. Once they were in the Games, having her around would be worth it.

But first they had to get there.

"People choose the paths that gain them the greatest rewards for the least amount of effort."