Disclaimer: I don't own The Hunger Games.

Note: Thought notifications were working again because I got a few a while ago. Nope. Still down. Or down again. *sigh*

Training Day One – Afternoon
Law of Nature

Acher Ernetut, 14
District Four

Maybe it was just human nature.

Acher glanced around as he cast his fishing line into the pond again. He'd spent most of the morning at the daggers station, so now it seemed fair to reward himself with something familiar. Something he knew he was good at. The boy from Nine had seemed to think he was fairly good with the daggers, but he'd seemed rather enthusiastic about just about everything. He'd quickly gotten bored with the station and headed off with his district partner to try something else.

Maybe Acher should have followed them. But they hadn't exactly invited him. They'd just happened to be at the same station. Besides, he'd been starting to feel like he was getting a bit better with the daggers. He'd probably head back there later after he took a little break here.

That was it. Just a little break. It wasn't like he was giving up on fighting or anything. He just needed to relax for a little while. That probably wasn't what the mutt station was here for, now that he came to think about it. It was supposed to be a place for tributes to test out their lure-making techniques. But he'd already caught two fish; clearly, his technique didn't need any help. He just needed a little time to process. Just a little.

"Not bad, kid," came a voice from behind him. Acher nearly jumped when he turned around and saw the girl from Two watching him. What was she doing here? What were all the Careers doing here? Okay, maybe it made sense that they'd want to check out the mutts, since that was something they probably didn't have much practice with at the academy, but it wasn't as if any of the animals here were particularly interesting. And why had they come straight to him?

"Thanks," Acher managed, his voice a bit squeakier than he'd intended.

"Noticed you at the dagger station this morning," the boy from One offered by way of explanation. "Not bad for a beginner."

Acher said nothing. He hadn't realized the Careers had been watching. Why had they been watching him? Sure, District Four sometimes had Career volunteers, but it wasn't as if they thought he was a Career. Did they? No. No, the boy had said 'Not bad for a beginner.' It was obvious he didn't have any training. But…

"Got some real natural talent there," the girl from Two agreed. "I'm Lily, and this is Clive."

Acher gripped his fishing pole protectively. "Acher. Can I help you with something?"

Lily shrugged. "Maybe you can. You see, we figured with two extra tributes this year – what with Thirteen being part of the Games and all – we could stand to add a tribute or two to the pack. Considering the attention your mentor will probably be getting from the sponsors…"

Acher's gaze fell. So this wasn't about him at all. "Imalia's not my mentor," he said softly. "She's Faven's. Mags is mine."

"Oh," Clive realized. "Sorry, we must have been mistaken. Maybe you wouldn't be interested, then. C'mon, Lily, maybe we should ask the other one–"

"Wait!" Acher called as they turned to go. "What do you mean? Interested in what?"

Clive turned back, a smile forming on his face. "In joining the pack, of course. If you can pass the test."

Acher's fingers fiddled with the rod in his hands. "What test?"

Lily mirrored Clive's smile. "Well, you heard what they said earlier about tributes being allowed to spar with each other at the staffs station, right?"

Acher nodded weakly. They wanted him to fight one of them? But they had to know how that would go.

His train of thought must have been obvious from his expression, because Clive jumped in. "Oh, we wouldn't expect you to win. That would be ridiculous. Obviously, we've had more training. But if you could last, say, a minute or so against one of us … well, that would be pretty impressive for a beginner. I'd say someone like that would be able to cut it as part of the pack."

Acher looked from one Career to another. One minute. Just one minute, and he could be part of the pack. But did he even want to be part of the pack? He wasn't a Career, after all. But they sometimes let non-Careers in the pack, and they sometimes did pretty well. And they had chosen to ask him. They had noticed him. Maybe trying out some weapons on the first day had been the right idea, after all.

"Interested?" Lily asked, and Acher was pretty sure he could hear a hint of impatience in her voice. She wanted an answer. And she wanted an answer now. He wanted time to think, but what would they think if he hesitated? After all, once he was in the Games, he wouldn't be able to afford to hesitate. He would have to make decisions on the spot, just like this.

"Okay." He laid the fishing rod gently on the ground. "Okay, I'll give it a try."

Clive beamed. "Excellent. You won't regret it. Come on."

Acher followed the group back inside the building and over to the other side of the room, earning a few looks from a couple of tributes along the way. Acher clenched and unclenched his fists. They were watching him. They were actually paying attention to him. The pair from Ten, who had been practicing at the spear station near the staff station, moved aside as the Careers got close. When he and the Careers got close. Acher couldn't help a small smile. Maybe he could really do this. Maybe…

The trainer at the staffs station raised an eyebrow as the group approached him, but Lily quickly explained what was going on. After a moment's hesitation, the trainer gestured to a row of padded staffs. "Pick whatever size you like."

Acher reached for one of the smallest ones, hesitated, then chose a slightly bigger one. Lily nodded approvingly and took a larger one. "Give us a count of three?" she asked the trainer, who nodded.

"Three … two … one."

Lily Rathna, 18
District Two

"Three … two … one."

Lily swung immediately, and the little boy actually managed to catch the first blow on his own staff. But not the second, which struck him in the ribs, or the third, which swept him off his feet. The trainer stepped forward, ready to intervene, but the boy shook his head as he struggled to his feet. "No," he wheezed. "No, I'm okay."

Lily beamed. He actually wanted to keep fighting. He really thought that they were going to let him into the pack. She swung again, and the blow struck his fingers, which must have stung, despite the padding. He almost dropped the staff, but grasped it tighter with the other hand and swung out wildly. Lily easily deflected the blow, then struck out again, this time landing a blow on his shoulder. The boy staggered back, and Lily advanced, bringing her staff down across his other hand.

This time, he did drop the staff. The next blow caught him in the stomach, and he dropped to his knees just in time for the next to catch him on the chin. Lily took a step forward, towering over him. "That was what, fifteen seconds? You want some more?"

The boy rolled over, reaching for his staff. Lily kicked it off to one side, then brought her foot down on his hand, almost – but not quite – hard enough to break the bones. The boy squirmed, gasping for breath. "I thought…"

Lily smirked. "You really thought we'd want a weakling like you in the pack."

"Stop it!" came a voice from off to one side. "Leave him alone!" Lily whirled around to see the girl from Ten, who had picked up the staff and was gripping it tightly in both hands. "Why don't you pick on someone your own size?"

Lily giggled. "Oh dear. Do people really say that? But this is the Hunger Games. If we could only kill people our own size, I don't think anybody would be allowed to fight you."

The girl gripped the staff tighter. "It's not the Hunger Games yet." She whirled to face the trainer. "And I thought you were supposed to step in if things went too far. You don't call this going too far?"

The trainer crossed his arms. "He wanted to keep going."

"And if he'd wanted to fight her with swords instead, would you have let him?"

Lily chuckled. "I certainly wouldn't have said no. Barely got any blood with these." She twirled the staff in her hand. A few of the boy's knuckles were bleeding, but the padding had saved him from getting it worse. Still, it had been good to actually fight someone.

Oh, they'd been fighting the trainers all morning, of course, but that was different. They knew what they were doing. And they weren't really giving it their all. Their lives weren't on the line. They had nothing to lose. And there were plenty of them. If one of them got tired, they could always call another one in. This had been … exhilarating. Almost like the Games.

Almost. She wasn't allowed to kill him yet – or the mouthy little girl from Ten. Or any of the idiots standing behind her who had just stood there while she wiped the floor with a scrawny little tribute. None of them had done a thing, and none of them were going to, because they needed her. They could tell how good she was, and none of them wanted to risk getting on her bad side.

Bellona took a step forward, and for a moment, Lily thought she was actually going to help the boy from Four to his feet. Instead, she took a step towards the girl from Ten and nodded approvingly. "You've got the right spirit, kid. Don't get scared; get angry."

Lily rolled her eyes. Angry. Was that what kept the others going? Was it anger that had driven them to want to compete in the Games? Pathetic. She wasn't here because she was angry at the world; she was here because she loved this. She was enjoying it. And was going to go on enjoying it just as long as she could.

She smiled sweetly at the girl from Ten. "Bellona's right; you've got some spunk. You want to have a go?"

The little girl froze, apparently realizing for the first time that she was, in fact, holding a weapon. She glanced frantically at the trainer, maybe wondering if he'd taken that as a sign that she wanted to fight, too. Hastily, she threw the staff at Lily's feet. "I'll save it for the arena," she squeaked.

Lily shrugged. "Suit yourself." She turned to the rest of the pack. "I think someone mentioned going for a swim?" She turned and headed off towards the door that led to the pool, with Clive right on her heels. One by one, the others followed. Good. Not that she needed them, of course. They needed her, but all of them … they were just the icing on the cake. If she could keep them close, then they would be right where she wanted them when it was time to bring the Games to an end.

Of course, she knew better than to think they would never see her coming. It happened every year – the pack turning on each other. Well, every year that some other tribute didn't take them out first. Of course they would know she was coming. They would all know she was coming. Lily chuckled to herself. After today's little display, every tribute in the arena would know she was coming for them. It was only a question of when, and how, and how painful it would be.

The door led to a selection of stalls with the option to change into gear more suitable for swimming. Lily ignored them. If they found themselves needing to swim in the arena, it wasn't as if they would have the opportunity to change their clothes first. Instead, she headed straight for the deeper end of the pool and dove right in.

She knew exactly what she was doing.

Swiss Galloway, 14
District Ten

"What did you think you were doing?"

Swiss shook her head. "I … I just …" she stammered before realizing Lucretius hadn't been talking to her. He was helping Acher to his feet and examining his hands. Swiss clenched her fists, then unclenched them again, taking a few deep breaths. The Careers were gone.

But what had she been thinking? They would have ignored her. They hadn't given her a second glance as they'd passed her on their way to the staffs station. They'd barely given her a first glance. Now…

"They told me they'd let me join the pack if … if I could last a minute in a fight."

That snapped Swiss out of her thoughts. "And you thought you could? And you thought they would?"

"I just wanted … It felt good that they'd noticed me."

Swiss shook her head. "You don't want the Careers to notice you, genius."

Lucretius chuckled softly. "I suppose he should have just walked up and started shouting at them, huh?"

Swiss clenched her fists. "That's different."

Lucretius cocked his head, his voice still irritatingly calm. "How?"

"Because I didn't think they'd let me join just because I let them beat me up for a minute!"

"No, you just thought they'd stop beating me up if you shouted loud enough," Acher pointed out.

"Well, no one else was going to. He certainly wasn't going to." She jerked her thumb at the trainer. "And someone had to."

Lucretius nodded. "Why?"

"Because!" Swiss shouted, but the rest of the thought caught in her throat. Because it wasn't right; that was what she had been about to say. Because it wasn't fair. But she didn't say that. Couldn't say that. Because if beating a tribute up now wasn't right, then killing them in a few days certainly wasn't right. And blurting that out now would be even stupider than mouthing off to the Careers. She crossed her arms. "Because it was pointless."

Lucretius blinked. Clearly, that wasn't the answer he'd been expecting. "Pointless," he repeated.

Swiss nodded. "Why offer to let someone join the pack when they obviously weren't interested in letting him? Why go after him? Why go after anyone? They'll get their chance in a few days anyway."

"Intimidate us?" Acher offered. "Make us scared?"

Swiss shook her head. "Like we weren't already scared of the Careers. Maybe if it were during the chariot parade, or somewhere else where the audience could see it. Maybe then it would be about making an impression. But here? Who's going to see them? Just us. And we're already scared of them."

"Maybe it's not about that," Lucretius offered. "Maybe it was about weakening the competition." He glanced down at Acher's hands. "We should probably have the trainers over at the first aid station take a look at that."

"That doesn't make sense, either," Swiss argued as they headed for the first aid station. "If they wanted to do that, why not target one of the tributes who's actually a threat?"

After a pause, Lucretius shook his head. "You know, it would have been easy to add 'no offense' to the end of that sentence."

"Look, you know what I meant," Swiss insisted. "I'm not saying I'm a threat, either. But why not pick someone like her?" She nodded towards the girl from Seven, who was over at the climbing station, watching the girl from Eleven scramble up the wall. "Or him?" She jerked a thumb at the boy from Twelve, who, now that the Careers had vacated the weapons stations, was practicing with a sword. "Why–" She stopped short. "What's your name again?"

"Acher."

"Right. Why Acher? It doesn't make any sense."

Lucretius shrugged. "Not everything does. Not everything has to. People don't always make sense, Swiss."

Swiss sighed. He was right, and she hated that he was right. Most people didn't make sense. He certainly didn't. She wasn't used to that. She was used to people being … well, practical. She shook her head as she sat down next to the boys, watching intently as the trainer bandaged Acher's hands and then moved on to his shoulder and chest. "You'll have some bruising, but as long as you don't do anything too strenuous, you should be ready in time for the Games."

Swiss scoffed. "Right, and I'm sure if he wasn't fit for the Games, you would've shipped him right back to District Four."

The trainer ignored her. "I'm sure the makeup team can do a good job of hiding the bruises for the interviews."

Swiss shrugged. "Or not. Maybe you could brag about how you got into a fight with the Careers."

Acher smiled faintly. "And how you saved me."

Swiss opened her mouth to say 'No, don't do that,' but stopped herself. Maybe it would make her a target for the Careers, but … well, it wasn't as if the Careers didn't already know what she'd done. And maybe it would look good for…

For who? The sponsors? Were the sponsors really going to care that a fourteen-year-old had been dumb enough to yell at the Careers? No. But her family … Quincey would probably be proud. It was the sort of thing he would appreciate. He'd been about to volunteer to go into the Games with her, after all. He was usually so practical, but…

But he cared about her. People did things that didn't make sense for people they cared about, and that … well, at least in a way, that made sense. So what did the girl from Two care about that had made attacking Acher seem like a good idea?

"If that's all right with you," Acher ventured, shaking Swiss from her thoughts.

"What?"

"Telling the audience what you did. I wouldn't want to say anything if you thought … well, if you thought it might get you into trouble."

Swiss shook her head. "Probably not any more than I'm already in. Might as well." She sighed.

"What's the worst that could happen?"

Clive Van Morren, 18
District One

What was the worst that could happen?

Clive chuckled to himself as he dove into the pool right behind Lily, who was already headed straight for the other end of the pool. The little boy from Six scrambled out of the pool when he saw her coming. Clive pushed off from the wall and came to a stop in the middle of the pool, floating leisurely, waiting for the others. The rest of the Careers were lingering in the stalls, presumably changing into more suitable swimming gear, but probably also debating whether they should do something about Lily's little stunt.

They wouldn't. Or at least, they probably wouldn't do anything directly. The best time for that would have been during the fight. If one of them had stepped in then and told her to stop – or had stepped in to fight her themself – then she might have thought twice. He was certain she wasn't at all concerned about what they might be whispering about her now, about whether she'd crossed a line.

She had, of course. When the trainers had provided a way for tributes to spar during training, this clearly wasn't what they'd intended. Then again, the trainer hadn't stepped in, either, so maybe they simply didn't care. But the other Careers hadn't looked all that comfortable with what she'd done. Not necessarily because they gave a damn about the boy from Four, but because it was bad form. It wasn't … what? Fair? Of course it wasn't fair. Nothing about the Games was fair.

So what was wrong with it, then?

Clive shook the thought from his head. Right or wrong, it was interesting, and it would stir up drama inside the pack. That was what mattered right now – making sure that the pack was still interesting, still relevant. That the audience would still be talking about them, even though districts like Four and Thirteen would be more obviously in the spotlight.

And once word got out – and it would get out – the audience would be talking about them. Well, talking about Lily, and at this point, anything that was good for one member would help the rest of the pack. That would change later on, of course, but for now, anything that earned them the audience's attention was a good thing. Even if some of that attention was negative, there would still be plenty of people who approved of Lily's actions, who saw her eagerness for a fight as a sign of how well she would do in the Games. All their mentors had to do was capitalize on that.

Oh. Their mentors. He hadn't thought about that. Maybe that was something he could use. He was fairly certain that Aramis would understand. He was a Career, after all. He may have played up the underdog angle for the cameras, but deep down, he was just as ruthless as the rest of them. But Lily's mentor…

Lily, meanwhile, had turned around at the other end of the pool and was heading back towards him. She stopped when she came to him, treading water, and glanced impatiently at the door. "How long does it take to change clothes? It's not like they're getting into an entire chariot outfit."

Clive chuckled. "Oh, I reckon they're taking their time. Probably got a few things to say to each other."

Lily rolled her eyes. "Let them talk, then. More practice for us."

"That's the spirit," Clive agreed. "Who cares what they think?"

"Right."

"Besides, what are they going to do? Tell on you?"

Lily scoffed. "Tell who?"

"Your mentor, I guess. Which one's yours again?" He was pretty certain he knew the answer, but it was better if she put the pieces together herself.

Lily shrugged as well as she could while treading water. "Prospero. I figured the audience would like that – you know, since I let him take my place last year. Sure, he's new, but it's not like it'll be hard to find sponsors."

"Oh, I'm sure it won't," Clive agreed. "And I'm sure he'll understand that you were just looking for a fight, not going after District Four in particular."

It took a moment for Lily to put that together. "What, you mean because the girl from Four was his ally last year? Just because the two of them were close doesn't mean he gives a damn about what happens to District Four this year."

That was probably true, of course. Just because someone's ally was from a certain district usually didn't mean anything. But Prospero had seemed like the sort who wouldn't take kindly to someone beating up a defenseless tribute for no reason other than the fact that it was fun. And that seemed to be dawning on Lily. She shook her head. "Even if he doesn't like it, what's he going to do about it? What's anyone going to do about it?"

"Nothing," Clive assured her.

"Exactly. So who cares what he thinks."

You do. She could have had any of the Victors as her mentor, and she'd chosen someone with no experience, someone whose only appealing point was that the audience would appreciate the fact that she'd stepped aside for him last year. She'd allowed him to take her place in the Games because … why? Because she'd felt sorry for him? What had made him different? She certainly hadn't felt sorry for the boy from Four. But for some reason, she had cared about him.

And she still cared. But he didn't say that; that would be too obvious. Better to let her stew with that one. He wasn't trying to pick fights – not yet, anyways. It was far too early for that.

Apparently, the other Careers agreed, because when they finally emerged from the changing rooms and climbed into the pool with him and Lily, none of them said anything about what had happened. There was no sign of disapproval – not unless you were looking for it. And Lily probably wasn't looking for it. After all, what were they going to do about it? Nothing.

They weren't going to do a thing.

Leven Gamakatsu, 18
District Five

They weren't going to do anything.

Leven shook his head, silently correcting himself as he climbed into the pool with the other Careers. They weren't going to do anything yet. There would be time to deal with Lily later. Besides, what were they supposed to do? Kick her out of the pack? Tell her to stop fighting? They weren't the ones who had made the decision to allow tributes to fight each other. And she hadn't forced the boy from Four to fight her. He had wanted to.

Because she had lied to him. Or if not lied, at least given him false hope. She'd wanted him to think that he had a chance of being able to fight her and not be horribly outmatched. She'd tried to butter him up, pointing out how good he'd been with the daggers. And it had worked. He'd fallen for it; that was his fault. His fault for being so damn gullible. Not that he'd been bad with the daggers, but there was a big difference between using it on a dummy and using it on someone who would fight back. Someone who would fight first.

No, he shouldn't have fallen for it. He'd been an easy target. Exactly the sort of kid Leven and his friends would have picked on back in the day, back before he'd outgrown all that. It wasn't his fault that Lily hadn't, or that none of the others seemed to want to do anything about her, either. Some of them had looked uncomfortable, but none of them had done anything.

And neither had he. It had happened so fast. Of course, they could have stepped in before it had come to a fight, but Leven had figured the boy would get hit once or twice and give up. If he'd just had the sense to stay down after getting hit the first time…

But he hadn't. And they hadn't. None of them had done anything. Not yet. Once the Games started, anything was fair game. But once the Games started … well, then it would be good to have someone like Lily on their side. Someone who wouldn't hesitate to go after a tribute just because they were small and helpless. Once the Games started, that sort of aggression was a good thing.

So why was it a problem now? What was the difference? If they were going to kill these kids in a few days anyway, why did it matter if they beat them up a little now? If killing them was just part of the Games, why was bullying them now any different? Was it different?

Leven shook the thought from his head as Lily organized a race from one side of the pool to the other and back. Leven took his place along one wall with the others as the trainer counted down. "Three. Two. One." He pushed off from the wall, moving quickly through the water. Swimming had been included as part of Career training ever since the 36th Games, when the girl from Ten had outlasted the girl from Two and even been able to hold her own against the boy from Four in the water at the end of the Games because she'd had practice swimming in the small lakes in Ten.

That was the exception, though. Most of the previous Games hadn't contained a body of water large enough to be any real danger. Knowing how to stay afloat was generally enough, and that was something he'd picked up quite quickly. He wouldn't want to get into a fight in the water if he could help it, but would anybody, really? Maybe the tributes from Four, who had been swimming all their lives, but it wasn't as if they were much of a threat this year.

And some years, there wasn't a body of water large enough for swimming even if they'd wanted to. Last year had been an underground mine, with only a few shallow pools, barely big enough to drink from. The year before that had been a bayou, but the mutts had kept the tributes from venturing too deep into the water. The butterfly garden had had a few fountains. The landfill had only had dirty puddles.

The castle the year before that … one room had started to flood due to a leaky roof when it had been raining, but who had survived that had been more a case of which of the trapped tributes had been willing to kill one of the others, rather than anything to do with actual swimming abilities. That was how it went. Most of the time, you survived in a body of water if the Gamemakers wanted you to survive. They could steer a piece of debris your way, or they could make sure a mutt grabbed you and dragged you under. You couldn't really control the waters any more than you could control the mutts.

Not that that stopped some tributes from trying, of course. And if a tribute attempted to make a splash with the mutts, the Gamemakers would usually play along. Usually. The boy from Twelve a few years ago had made a show of charming the mutts with his music. Oliver had tamed a group of giant prairie dogs. Presley had made friends with a pair of lion mutts. But only because the Gamemakers had let them. There wasn't any real control there.

Leven stopped as he reached the end of the pool again, gasping for breath. He glanced around. He'd finished after Lily, Bellona, and Clive, but before Ross. And Euphoria was still paddling slowly up beside him, then climbed out of the pool. "I think I'm going to go check out some of the other stations."

Leven smirked. "You planning on coming back, showgirl?"

"Of course!" But the answer, he noticed, came a little quickly, a little defensively. She covered quickly, though. "Like you said, there's no rule saying the pack has to spend every moment of training together."

Leven nodded as she headed off. She was right; there was no rule. But as she headed off, he couldn't help the feeling that she was leaving them for good. He glanced over at the rest of the pack, a sinking feeling in his stomach.

He wondered if she would be the only one.

Ophiuchus Valdemar, 18
District Thirteen

They wondered if she would be the only one.

Ophiuchus watched silently as the girl from Five made her way over to the climbing station. The girl from Four fled immediately, hurrying off towards the survival stations as soon as she saw the Career coming. The pair from Nine lingered a little longer, but the girl finally managed to point out something interesting off in the direction of the weapons station, and the pair hurried off, leaving the Career looking around, looking bewildered and then frustrated.

Ophiuchus smiled to themself and turned their attention back to their attempt at a fire. It wasn't going particularly well, but their heart wasn't really in it. They were watching the girl from Three, who was also attempting a fire while trying not to look like she was really watching her district partner and the girls from Six and Thirteen. The three of them had taken advantage of the fact that the Careers were gone and were getting some practice at the knives station. Every so often, one of them laughed, and Ophiuchus was pretty sure they saw the girl from Three shake her head slightly.

"You can lead a horse to water, huh?" Ophiuchus observed.

The girl looked up from her fire. "What?"

Ophiuchus shrugged. "Just something I heard once. You can lead a horse to water, but you can't make it drink."

The girl raised an eyebrow. "Thought you were supposed to be from Thirteen, not Ten."

Ophiuchus chuckled. "Thirteen's a bit of a mixture at this point. Bits and pieces from all over. But you're right; that one probably came from Ten to start with. It just means you can give someone good advice, but you can't force them to follow it. Am I right?"

The girl shook her head. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"I think you do. I was watching them, too – at lunch. Saw your little rendezvous with the girl from Six. You told her something, I'd wager – something you thought would break up their little alliance. But it didn't, did it."

The girl hesitated for a moment. "I didn't realize anybody else was watching," she admitted.

Ophiuchus nodded. "Probably not used to people keeping an eye on you, huh? Of course, most people back in Three probably don't have any reason to. But everyone's competition here – even younger tributes who would normally be able to just … disappear in a crowd if they wanted to. You're normally not a threat. Here … everyone's a threat. So what did you tell her?"

The girl shrugged. "Nothing she wouldn't have found out eventually. Elseri's gang started a riot back in Three. Got a Peacekeeper killed. Figured that wasn't the sort of person anyone would want to be allies with, but…"

"But it didn't quite work out the way you thought it would," Ophiuchus agreed, nodding at the three of them.

"Yeah."

"I would have told the other one, personally."

"Why?"

Ophiuchus shrugged. "Thirteen's got a particular reason not to associate with anyone who might be considered rebellious. We're making our first appearance in the Games, after all. First impressions and all that. Whereas Six already has a reputation, for better or worse."

"Six does. She doesn't."

Interesting. "Did you have some reason to think she was more likely to act on your information?"

The girl smirked. "Maybe."

That was a yes. The word was a confirmation, but the inflection … that was an invitation. Ophiuchus grinned. "What makes her so interesting?"

"Why should I tell you?"

"Because I can tell you why your plan failed."

The girl crossed her arms. "You first, then."

Fair enough. "It was a good plan. Your only mistake was assuming that everyone else thinks the way you do. The way we do."

"And how's that?"

"Tactically. Some people are persuaded by reason; others are persuaded by emotion. The kind of person who would respond to a few pretty words about fireflies isn't going to care about whatever tactical advantage you were offering. The sort of person who was imagining a teenager leaving their district and setting out on a rugged adventure to find District Thirteen isn't going to act on information just because it would make sense to. They don't think like that." They leaned forward. "So why her? The girl from Six?"

The girl shrugged. "I heard she was friendly with some Peacekeepers she knows."

Ophiuchus cocked their head. She'd said it casually, as if it was a normal thing to hear. Maybe hoping that they wouldn't notice the oddness of it. "And how does someone from Three hear that about someone from Six, I wonder."

"With my ears."

Ophiuchus chuckled. Oh, she was good. "Fair enough. I only asked what the reason was, not how you knew it. I do have one more question."

"Just one?"

"For now. Why try to break up their alliance? Why is it your business?"

"I don't suppose you'd believe me if I said I don't think someone who got a Peacekeeper killed deserves to have an easy time finding allies."

Ophiuchus thought for a moment. "No. No, I don't think I'd believe that. I might believe that it's advantageous for a younger tribute to try to break up any alliance of older, stronger tributes because she might be a tempting target for a stronger group. I might also believe that it was never about breaking them up, that you were simply trying to endear yourself to the girls by offering them advice, thinking they might be less likely to target you if you'd been helpful to them during training. I think that's probably nearer the mark."

"That would make sense, wouldn't it."

Ophiuchus nodded. "It would. It would also explain why you've entertained my questions for as long as you have. I suppose you're less likely to kill someone if they've made you smile or laugh, if you've had a pleasant conversation … if you know their name."

The girl smiled knowingly. "Hattie."

"Ophiuchus."

She nodded. "Good to meet you."

Ophiuchus smiled. "Likewise."

This was going even better than they'd expected.

Faven Aldana, 14
District Four

This wasn't going the way she'd expected.

Faven shook her head and tried to focus on the trap she was making, but she couldn't help glancing over again at the door that led to the pool. That was where the Careers had gone, but they couldn't stay in there forever. Eventually, they would get bored, and they would come back. And when they did…

Faven swallowed hard. She was probably next. They had gone after Acher because he was from District Four. She was the next logical target. Technically, of course, they couldn't fight her unless she agreed to, but…

But she still didn't want to be anywhere near them, which was why she'd chosen the traps station. It was over in the corner, as far away from the weapons stations as she could get. That was probably where they would go, after all. The Careers hadn't shown any interest in any of the survival stations, so this was where she would be safe. But…

But that meant as long as she was avoiding the Careers, she wouldn't get any practice at the weapons stations. It was already well into the afternoon. She'd stuck to the survival stations in the morning, telling herself that she could practice with weapons later. But if she kept putting it off just because that was where the Careers were likely to be, it wouldn't be long before she ran out of 'later.' They only got three days of training, after all. She was supposed to be making the most of it.

"Looking good, Faven," the trainer said kindly. "Go ahead and tighten that knot there a little bit. There you go. Nice work, both of you. Those look just about ready to test."

The boy from Seven looked up from the trap he'd been building silently. "Test?"

The trainer shrugged. "There's a whole field stuffed with animals out there if you want to see how well you did. Careful not to set them off while you're moving them, mind you."

The boy glanced at Faven, who shrugged. They weren't exactly working together, but … well, it was nice to have a little company. Maybe the Careers would be less likely to bother her if she looked like she was part of a group. Acher had been alone, after all. He had been easy pickings.

But he wasn't alone anymore, she realized as she and the boy from Seven made their way out the door and towards the fenced-off area outside. Acher was over by the cows with the pair from Ten. The girl was milking one, looking as happy as a clam. Faven followed the boy from Seven over to some bushes, where it looked like the Gamemakers had gone a bit overboard. Squirrels and rabbits and an assortment of other small, furry things she didn't recognize were darting and hopping and scurrying back and forth across the grass.

The boy from Seven stepped around a few unconcerned rodents, set his trap in the bushes, and stepped back to wait. Faven chose another bush and did the same. The berries in the middle of the trap soon attracted the rabbits, but with the number of animals that were running around, it would probably have been more surprising if something hadn't found its way into their trap.

Still, the boy from Seven was smiling as he pulled the rabbit out of the bushes, struggling against the rope that was now wrapped around its leg. Faven nodded. Once the creature was caught, it would be easy enough to kill it and eat it. Well, easy enough to kill it if she had a weapon, at least. If she didn't…

Faven shook the thought from her head as a squirrel sprung her trap. It chittered frantically and began gnawing at the rope, but Faven was faster. She reached down and grabbed it, but it squirmed and wriggled and nipped at her hand. She yelped and almost dropped it before realizing that it hadn't actually broken her skin. Maybe the Gamemakers had designed them not to. She couldn't count on the ones in the arena being this defenseless, of course, but this one wasn't going to be able to hurt her. Its claws had been dulled, as well – maybe filed down with something. It looked up at her with wild, frightened eyes.

Faven quickly freed it from the rope and set it down gently on the ground, where it hesitated a moment before scampering off as if nothing had happened. Faven watched it disappear into the crowd of animals, wondering if she should have tried to kill it. Maybe it would have been good practice, but…

But it wouldn't really have mattered. Anyone could kill a squirrel or a rabbit. She'd killed fish before, after all. This wasn't different just because it had fur. Neither of those things was like killing a person. Faven shuddered. What do you think the hardest part will be? That was what Imalia had asked her on the train. She had said that fighting would be the hardest part, so what was she doing out here playing with rodents?

Faven took a deep breath, clenched her fists, and turned around to ask the boy from Seven if he wanted to go back in and try some weapons. But he was already gone. Faven shook her head. It wasn't as if they'd been working together, anyway. They'd just been at the same station. He hadn't really seemed interested in being allies. He'd barely seemed to notice her.

That was … uncomfortable, really. More uncomfortable than she wanted to admit. She wasn't used to people ignoring her. But everything that had made her popular back in Four – everything her parents had taught her about being polite and charming and pretty – none of that mattered here. People weren't looking for allies who were proper. They were looking for allies who had something to offer, something that would help them survive.

Maybe it was time to start acting like she did.

Lucretius Adams, 16
District Ten

Maybe she had the right idea.

Lucretius watched with a smile as the girl from Four headed back inside. She hadn't killed the squirrel. Swiss had been watching, too, and clearly approved of that. An interesting attitude, maybe, coming from a butcher's daughter, but maybe that just meant she knew there was a difference between killing an animal for food and killing one just because you could. Just like there was a difference between killing a tribute in the Games and being cruel to them just for fun.

That was why she had stood up to the Careers, after all. He had been a bit surprised by that. Back on the train, she hadn't struck him as particularly interested in helping the other tributes. She hadn't even seemed interested in helping him. She had suggested an alliance not because she liked him, but because it was … what? Convenient?

And he had agreed because … well, there hadn't been any better options at the time. And it wasn't as if he had committed to an alliance right away. Maybe we stick together for a while and see what happens. That was all she had suggested – and all he had agreed to. He could always back out if he changed his mind. That was what he had told himself then – that he didn't have to be certain.

Now he was certain. He turned his attention back to Swiss, who was showing Acher how to milk a cow, with absolutely no indication that she wanted to be anywhere or doing anything else. She'd rushed out to the mutts right away in the morning. At lunch, he'd finally managed to convince her to try some weapons, which was why they'd been at the spear station when the Careers had arrived. Now…

Now it was going to be even harder to get her to go back inside. Or at least, it would be harder if he hadn't figured out how to deal with her. She wanted things to make sense. She wanted people to be logical. But there was something else she wanted, too…

"All right, you've convinced us," Lucretius grinned. "If there's anything that needs to be milked in the arena, you're our gal. Now how about we head back inside and get back to those spears, huh?"

Swiss shrugged. "What's the rush? It's not like the spears are going anywhere."

Lucretius appeared to consider that for a moment, then sighed. "Yeah, you're right. Besides, the Careers are probably back at the weapons stations by now, and we wouldn't want to run into them."

"Yeah," Acher agreed immediately. "We should probably just stay out here. Then they won't find us."

Swiss looked up, glaring at Lucretius. She was smart enough to see what he was doing, but that didn't mean it wouldn't work. She stood up suddenly, but carefully enough not to spill the pail of milk at her feet. "Fine. Let's go back in."

Acher looked genuinely confused. "But you just said–"

"We can't stay out here all day just because you're scared of the Careers," Swiss snapped.

Acher's face grew red. "I'm not the only one who's scared of the Careers."

Lucretius nodded, wrapping an arm around Acher's shoulders. "No. No, of course not. And you've probably got the most reason to be." He nodded at the boy's hands. "But Swiss is right," he added emphatically, and caught the hint of a smile on her face. Because that was what she wanted – really wanted. And there was no harm in giving it to her, so he repeated himself. "She's right. We can't just spend the next few days avoiding the Careers. We'd never get anything done. So let's get back in there and get to work."

Swiss nodded emphatically and led the way back inside, past the girl from Four, who was practicing at the dagger station, and back to the spear station, where, mercifully, the Careers were nowhere in sight. Maybe they were still swimming. Maybe they'd found something else that caught their attention. Maybe they'd found someone else to pick on.

Except the staff station was empty, and that was the only place they could really fight any of the other tributes. Of course, that didn't mean they couldn't be cruel to them in other ways, but as far as physically hurting them, that was the only station where any of them were fair game. So it probably wasn't a coincidence that Swiss had headed back here, back to the spear station right beside it, where they had been earlier. It was a statement. It was defiance. She was telling them that she wasn't afraid of them – even if they weren't here to see it.

Maybe especially since they weren't here to see it. Lucretius smiled as the trainer welcomed them back, picking up where they'd left off earlier. Of course she was afraid of the Careers. They all were. Not being afraid of the Careers was a good way to end up dead very quickly. But making it clear that they weren't going to let that fear stop them from preparing as well as they could – that was good.

And it made them all feel better. And that was important, too, even if Swiss didn't realize it. Acher had needed a little break to go play with some cows. That had helped him feel safe. Now this would help him feel … well, maybe it would help him feel a little bit better about his chances, at least. And it would help Swiss feel like she was getting something done.

And him … What did he get out of it? Lucretius turned the thought over in his head. Of course, he was getting the same training out of it that they were. The same practice. But on some level, they all knew better than to think that a few days of playing around with spears would make them any match for the Careers. No, they would still have to get very lucky if one of them was going to end up making it out of this.

One of them. Lucretius nodded to himself. That was what he was getting, if only for a short time. They were allies. Maybe to some extent, they could even be friends.

And that was enough for now.

Elseri Lumenova, 17
District Three

That would have to be good enough for now.

Elseri waved to Christina and Karina as he stepped out of the elevator. "See you tomorrow." The pair waved back as the door closed. Elseri turned around and nearly walked right into Avery. "I'm not that late, am I?" A few of the tributes had headed back to their floors earlier, but the three of them had stayed until the last possible moment. But they certainly hadn't been the only ones.

Avery shook her head. "No. I just wanted to catch you before you went inside."

"Why?"

"Because we're not going inside yet." She pressed a button for another elevator. It opened, and he followed her inside. She pressed another button, took a deep breath, and explained.

It was too good to be true. Elseri's mind was whirling as the elevator door opened again. He'd hoped that if his performance in the Games was good enough, the audience's reaction might be enough to convince the Peacekeepers to spare Vex, but he hadn't dared to hope for a guarantee. Vex would live. All he had to do was…

Whatever Harakuise was about to ask him to. Elseri took a deep breath as he stepped out onto the roof of the training center. Harakuise was standing there, waiting for them. He nodded briskly to Avery. "Thank you for meeting me up here. Both of our floors have a few too many listening ears for my liking." He turned to Elseri. "I assume she's explained the purpose of this meeting."

"Yes. I–"

"Good. Stay away from Christina."

Elseri blinked. "What?"

Harakuise's expression was unreadable. "I assured Avery that my request would be reasonable. That's the deal. You stay away from Christina. Vex lives."

Elseri glanced at Avery, then back at Harakuise. Christina? Why her? She was from Six, after all – not Five or even Thirteen. Maybe he was hoping that keeping him away from Christina would also keep him away from Karina, but then why not just ask for that? And it wasn't as if Karina was even his tribute; she was Nicodemus' responsibility. Elseri crossed his arms. "Why?"

"You don't get to ask that."

"I think I have a right to–"

"No. You don't. Not after what you've done."

Elseri clenched his fists. What he'd done? "I didn't kill that Peacekeeper." And he hadn't. Everything had been happening so quickly, he wasn't entirely sure who had, but it hadn't been him.

"Not personally, I'm sure," Harakuise agreed. "But you and your friends started the riot that led to his death. Cause and effect." He shook his head. "And for what?"

"What?"

"Yes, what? What were you hoping to accomplish? What was the goal of your little … demonstration?"

"We were upset."

"Clearly."

"We wanted to let people know."

"And then what? Who did you think was going to listen? The Peacekeepers?"

"No." Of course the Peacekeepers weren't going to listen. "The rest of the district."

"And what did you expect them to do?"

"Join in and–"

"And what, Elseri? What were you expecting, if you weren't expecting violence?"

"I…" Elseri trailed off, unsure. It had seemed like such a good idea at the time. Vex had made it sound like a good idea. "I didn't think…"

"No. You didn't. You didn't think about the consequences. You just wanted to cause a stir, with no regard for what happened afterwards. And now a man is dead, because you didn't think beyond the end of your tantrum."

Elseri could feel his face growing hot. "Tantrum?"

"Yes. You had no plan, no goal, nothing except a burning desire to let everyone know how upset you were. You and your friends – you're not heroes. You're children throwing a tantrum because the universe didn't give you what you wanted. And if you're going to insist on acting like children, you will be treated as such." He shook his head. "That's why it's a simple deal, Elseri. I'm not asking you to carry out some elaborate plan, because I doubt you'd be able to wrap your mind around it." He took a step closer. "You stay away from Christina. Vex lives. You didn't care about the big picture then. Why should I give you a glimpse of it now?"

Elseri clenched and unclenched his fists, fighting back a desire to punch Harakuise right in the face. Harakuise watched him, unmoving. Slowly, Elseri took a deep breath. Harakuise was right about one thing. It was a simple deal. It would mean giving up the only allies he'd managed to find, but he'd known them for less than a day, and they would almost certainly be dead soon anyway. Vex was worth far more than that. Maybe Harakuise's reasons didn't really matter at all. "Okay. It's a deal."

Harakuise finally smiled a little. "Good. And well done."

"What?"

"It was tempting, wasn't it?" He smirked. "You wouldn't have been the first tribute to take a swing at me."

"Really?"

"Yes. There have been a few."

Elseri cocked his head. "Only a few?"

Harakuise actually chuckled. "Yes."

"Was … was that a test? You wanted to see if I could control my temper?"

"Possibly. But the offer is genuine. All you need to do is stay away from Christina."

"Christina, specifically? Not both her and Karina?"

"Yes. Christina."

Elseri nodded. It would be easy enough to avoid her during training, but once the Games started. "During the Games, what if–"

"Oh, if you happen to stumble across each other, I won't hold it against you. Simply end the interaction as quickly as you can. Run away. Fight. Part ways peacefully. It makes no difference."

"And if we fight and I … I kill her…"

"Then she dies."

Elseri's eyes narrowed. "You don't care whether she survives or not, do you."

"Why would I?"

"And what about me?"

"What about you?"

"If I survive … does that mean the deal's off? Do I have to die for Vex to live?"

"Why would you?"

"I just figured … you know … a life for a life."

Harakuise shook his head. "If that was a condition of the deal, I would have named it. And I suspect if I had, it would have crossed your mind to secure your friend's life by stepping off your podium at the earliest opportunity." He met Elseri's gaze. "I don't want that."

"You … don't want me dead?"

"I don't want it to be that easy. I want you to fight. I want you to struggle for every last moment, every last heartbeat, every last breath of your life."

"Because that will make it all the more satisfying for you when I die?"

"Satisfaction's not in my nature. The audience, however, is a different matter." He held out a hand. "You stay away from Christina. That's the only condition. Do that, and your friend lives."

Elseri nodded and shook his hand. "Deal."

"People choose the paths that gain them the greatest rewards for the least amount of effort. That's a law of nature, and you defied it."