I slip back to the camp as the sun's rays alight the ground, the Bryonx berries safe in my pocket. As I unzip my tent and crawl inside, Clove is sitting up. I pause but she doesn't look my way as I move inside and zip up the tent. She's arranging her knives in a row on the tent floor from smallest to largest. As I watch, she picks up a particularly nasty looking one and slides it into her jacket pocket.

Her movements are slow and I wonder at first if she's sleep walking or something, but then she murmurs, "Where have you been?"

"Had to go," I say, and then because she doesn't look convinced, I add, "And then wanted some time alone to think."

"Didn't realise you did think," Clove says coldly as she picks up another knife.

"The sunrise was pretty," I shrug.

"Hm," Another knife in her jacket. This time with a twirl of her hand, "What was on your mind?"

"Marina. Alvis. Peeta."

"Mine too," She mutters, scowling as she snatches up another knife, "Cato likes to keep his promises. I've never understood why."

"Promises?"

"Him promising to keep Peeta alive until we find Katniss. Sparing Alvis so he can do those stupid mines. And," She points a knife, a small and jagged one in my direction, "Keeping you around."

"I'm useful, Darling," I smirk, "The sponsors love me."

"You're also insufferable," She growls. She picks up the last of her knives and stalks towards me, "Soon, I'm going to rip you apart shred by shred. Let's see how many sponsors we get then."

My smile doesn't waver, "Understood. But I don't think I'm the biggest threat here. Who do you want to kill first?"

She stares at me, hard, and again, somehow, through all the animosity and hatred she's directed my way, I can see the scared fifteen year old girl underneath. Maybe I'm imagining it. But my question is enough for her to waver.

"I say Thresh," I murmur, "Then Katniss, and Peeta. Alvis, and then me. Marina."

Her eyes narrow, "Of course you'd say that. You want to live."

"But you've also got to consider this logically," I murmur, "This is like a game of cards. Which of your opponents has the biggest hand that you need to remove?"

"I don't play cards."

"But you see my reasoning?" I urge, "I'm insufferable but not a threat. It's the most dangerous players that have to go first."

"Or the expendable ones," Clove mutters. She shoulders past me, unzips the tent, and steps out into the sunlight.

                                                             ***

The day brings labour. Under Alvis' direction and Cato's watchful eye, we spend the morning organising our food it one gigantic pile.

"Doesn't this feel more of a target to you?" I grunt to Clove and Marina, as I lift a crate of apples onto some sacks of grain.

"It's what Cato wants," Clove says evenly, as she moves away to grab some more food.

The crate of apples fall back towards me as I try and heave them upwards, but hands reach out and steady mine. Marina.

"Careful," She grins, "You're one person here that I don't want to see dead."

There's anger in her eyes when she looks at Cato, but from the conspiratorial wink she throws at me, I know she's considered what I told her last night.

"Then you have the patience of a saint," I murmur.

"Or an avenger."

She's not the most subtle ally I could have asked for, but I nod to show that I've caught her meaning, and together we push the crate of apples on the top.

"Are you really flirting with Marina too?" Clove snaps from behind us. She's holding a loaf of bread in both hands, "I thought you only had eyes for Cato."

"Darling, I swing all ways," I wink.

As Clove hands us the bread to place on top, another parachute falls down and lands at her feet. Her gaze hardens as she glares at it, and then at me.

I smile, "I think someone up there likes me."

She shoots me a look, and stalks away without opening the parachute.

"What's her problem?" Marina asks, bending down to untie the fabric.

I sigh theatrically, "She's jealous of how Cato looks at me. And I think she hates that I'm causing unnecessary drama."

"I think I agree with her there." It's more chocolate in the parachute.

"I thought you were with me," I drop my voice.

"I am," She says, "But can't you leave Clove out of your fun? I think she and Cato like each other."

Not totally oblivious then, and yet convinced that I have ensnared Cato. If this is what is running through the Capitol's head, then I think I'm doing alright.

I look around at the others. Peeta is on the other side of the pyramid, lifting more boxes, whilst Cato, Clove and Alvis and talking, pointing at the pyramid. Marvel is still asleep in his tent. Considering, he and Marina were meant to have no sleep last night, Cato has let him sleep in.

"You hate Cato," I murmur.

"But not Clove," She argues, "Can't you just drop the whole romance thing?"

"I can't change who I am," I say levelly, "And besides, what do you think will happen when Cato stops being interested in me? You're not the only one he's a danger to here."

She doesn't respond, and I can see her mulling over my words. Once the food is gathered into a pyramid, she moves to go and sit beside the lake. I take some biscuits and fruit and carefully place them into my free pocket.

I make a lunch out of some cheeses and bread, and sit by the tents. Peeta and Alvis are talking. Marvel is out of his tent and has joined Marina by the lake, but I can't see Cato and Clove. I'll make sure everyone is accounted for before going into the woods to look for Finch.

The cheese is unfamiliar and tastes creamy and soft, as I wolf it down with the bread. I wonder what my family are doing. Sitting around the television eating their own meal? Has Sparkle made pancakes again? Are they eating my Ma's stew?

I wipe some stray cheese from my mouth to see Clove walking towards me, her hands clasped behind her back. I quickly get to my feet, brushing off some stray breadcrumbs from my clothes.

"I've done some thinking," Clove says sharply. I raise an eyebrow, and, as usual, she gets straight to her point, "You're not expendable."

I smile to give her a reaction, but I'm unsure of where this is going.

"You might be the biggest threat in this arena," Clove whispers. From behind her back, she draws out a bushel of red roses, "This came from one of the sponsors."

I stare. White roses are the symbol of the President, and it's well-known that only the Capitol citizens who are wealthy and favoured by the President have permission to grow roses. While they might not be roses grown by the sponsor themselves, they are incredibly rare and expensive.

And someone has gone out of their way to give them to a tribute...

Clove's expression tells me everything. Her hatred for me has now been joined by suspicion. Before I was an annoyance. Now I'm someone who has enough backing to become a victor.

I join my hands in a triangle, before clasping the roses, "Oh, and you got them for me? Thank you, Clove!" I press a kiss to her cheek as she stares at me, stunned, "Is this a declaration of love? A vow that you and I will see each other through to the bitter end?"

"I...What?" Clove pushes me away from her, "This came from a sponsor, not from me!"

She throws out her arms, and I press my hands to my lips, "B-but you gave them to me!" I move my arms around to match hers. If anything, the Capitol audience will find this amusing, "What was I supposed to think?"

Clove glares at me in anger and bewilderment. But of course she does. She doesn't care about the audience, how everything is coming across on the cameras. My mixed messages aggravate her, as does my focus on romance. The Capitol and the sponsors will always come second to killing the other tributes and winning the Games.

She moves towards me, and as she does so, Cato's tent suddenly unzips. He steps out like some ancient god, the sunlight hitting his blond hair. He shades his eyes from the light with his arm, and stares at us both. I see his eyes move from the roses in Clove's hand, to our body language, his eyes narrowing as he sees the short distance between us.

"What the hell is going on?" He growls.

I hold my fingers in a triangle, but he ignores them. He stalks towards me, and pushes me hard away from Clove. As we stare at him in shock, he grabs the roses from her hand and throws them onto the floor.

While his back is turned, I dart into the forest. I move some distance away, I look behind me to see if I'm being followed, and seeing that I'm not, I place the food in my pocket under a bush. It's only the second day in the arena. How have things escalated, and this quickly?

I never meant to be seen as a threat. I only wanted to keep Clove and Cato at bay. To buy enough time to keep them as my allies so they could deal with Thresh and Katniss and other dangerous opponents. But now they might decide that I need to be eliminated first.

Tears spring from my eyes. I let them fall. Let the audience think that I'm upset and confused by Clove's romantic advances and Cato's reaction, then for my immediate safety.

I walk back out of the woods, and am just composing myself, when my eyes fall on Marina and Marvel by the lake. They're sitting close together, her arm on his shoulder. And I know she has a girlfriend at home, but for some reason I'm just so angry and upset, that I see red.

I stalk towards them, and as I approach, Marina quickly removes her hand from Marvel's.

"Well, well, well," I snap, "If it isn't the two lovebirds."

"Sorry, who are you talking to?" Marina asks calmly.

But it's Marvel's reaction I'm watching. His face burns red, his arms flail. Does Marina not realise just how much he's fallen for her? That, for all her talk of unnecessary romance, she's ensnared him?"

"Um," Marvel stutters, "Glimmer, we're not-"

"A friendly word of advice, Marvel," The voice that's coming from my mouth seems to belong to someone else. It's low and jealous, "There can only be one victor. Don't get too attached."

I turn and try and ignore their peals of laughter as I walk away.

                                                                                            ***

The afternoon is spent digging the mines from under each tributes' pedestal and carrying them over to our camp. They're set up to prevent any tribute from stepping off the pedestals early but now that the Games have begun, they are deactivated and safe to carry.

"How will you activate them?" Cato asks as Marvel sets the last mine down.

"The wiring inside," Alvis sound hesitant, "It should be separate from the explosives. I'll need to connect them all up again. Do we have any soldering irons?"

"Any what?" Cato frowns.

"I knew he wouldn't be able to do it," Clove growls.

"No, I can!" Alvis waves his hands frantically, "I just need-"

"Hey Cashmere!" I turn my head and yell at the sky. The others pause, staring at me, "Any chance of some soldering irons?"

"Right, like she's got any," Clove scoffs, "Let's just kill him now."

"Woah," Marina pushes Alvis behind her, "No one's going to be killing anyone!"

"This is the Hunger Games," Clove snaps, "That's the whole point."

She opens up her jacket. Alvis' eyes widen at her dazzling array of knives, and he whimpers as she selects one of her larger ones.

"Wait," Peeta says suddenly. He points to the sky, "Look!"

We glance up. Sure enough, a parachute is descending, carrying an object. It lands gently onto the floor and I leap forward to unwrap it. Inside, are five golden soldering irons.

"I guess Cashmere can do something right after all," I beam, my voice loud. I look away from Clove as I grab a soldering iron, "Where to, Alvis?"

"The wires in the mines," He says quickly, stepping away from Clove and towards me, "But how can you possibly-"

"I'm a girl of many talents," I wave the iron, "Lead the way."

Heating up the soldering iron and pressing it to the wiring infuses me with calm I didn't expect to feel in the arena. My body relaxes and a smile lights up my face as my hands remain steady, busying themselves with the wiring.

At first Alvis stands hovering, directing me, but once it becomes clear that I know what I'm doing, he directs his attention elsewhere. It's beautiful,, the way the metal gleams in the sunlight and bends to my will, and I wish I could keep doing it forever.

Eventually, after I've moved from one mine to the next, Alvis says, "I'll take it from here."

My peace shatters as he begins to press buttons and I suddenly remember that we're building a death trat. I try to study him and remember which mine is safe and which is not, but his fingers move too fast for me to follow. I'll have to try another approach.

"So," I murmur to Alvis when it looks like he's finished, "Which of these six combinations will blow us all into the sky?"

He jumps, his mouth falling open and his eyes darting to Marina who's walking over to the lake. Then he glances at Cato who's nearer but busy in a conversation with Clove.

"Don't worry," I smile, "I won't say a word. And she didn't tell me. I worked it out for myself."

"You're smarter than you look," The shock has left his face now, "But there are seven combinations, not six." His voice drips with condescension.

"Seven, huh?" I try to sound impressed, but all I really want to do is smack him, "So which of them will blow us all up?"

"Wow, so you meant that," He sighs and then smirks, "I take it back. You're an idiot. None of them will because it will blow the food up too. But there are seven different paths to get to the food that will change each day and only I will know them."

"They must be pretty simple paths then."

He scowls, "Watch this." He pulls something out from his pocket- a remote of some kind.

"Where the hell did you get that?"

"I made it," He shrugs. Like it's the easiest thing in the world. He presses a button, "What do you want from the pile?"

"Uh...some bread would be nice."

He extends his arms like a bird about to take flight. Then he leaps forward to stand on one leg, twirls, does another leap, a somersault and then takes three more lithe steps to grab the bread. He does the rest in reverse and presents the bread to me with a bow.

I'm speechless, and all I can say at first is, "It would have been really funny if you'd stepped wrong." I take the bread from his hand, "That was impressive. Were you a dancer back in Three or something?"

He pulls a face, "I wish. Entertainer, actually. My sister's a singer. We perform in the Square. The Mayor or Peacekeepers sometimes give money for it."

"That's cool. We have performers in District One too. But they're only allowed to play on Festival Days."

Alvis nods, "We can only perform at certain times. The Peacekeepers are strict about it."

"Ours too."

We both fall silent. I guess it's the same in all the Districts. I wonder if the Gamemakers are showing our conversation or whether they've cut away. Can't be good for Capitol morale having the tributes talk about the suffering in their lives.

"So," I incline my head to the mines, "Care to show me another route to the food?"

"Not a chance," Alvis retorts, the smugness returning. But he laughs as he says it.

"What's so funny?" It's Marina, swinging a water bottle under her arm.

"Just Alvis and his obsession with mines," I say, just Alvis opens his mouth to speak.

"Yeah, kid's genius," Marina smiles. She ruffles his hair, before turning to look at me, "Hey, Glimmer, could I talk to you for a moment."

"Sure," I say, raising an eyebrow at Alvis, before following Marina away towards the lake.

She sets down her bottle before turning to face me. "Listen, I'm really sorry about earlier. Didn't mean to laugh at you."

"You did, but don't apologise," I sigh, "I deserved it."

"You were pretty hypocritical," Marina admits, "You know Marvel and I are just friends."

I tilt my head, "Marina, he's liked you ever since he laid eyes on you. Didn't you realise?"

"No," Marina looks shocked, her voice dropping to a whisper, "Are you serious?"

"He would never stop talking about you," I'm unable to keep the bitterness from my voice.

"Oh god," Her eyes widen, "Ariel's going to be mad!

"Did you tell him about her?"

"Yes! At least I think I did..."

"Well then you're fine. Good talk," I turn to move away from her but her voice catches me.

"Glimmer?"

"Yeah?"

"Do you like Marvel?"

Where has this come from?

When I don't say anything, she presses forward, "You do, don't you?"

"Even if I did, it wouldn't matter."

"But you're the Jewel of District One!" She throws her hands into the air in disbelief, "Why haven't you made a move?"

Right. That story.

I step towards her, "I never wanted to be desired or admired. Things just sort of happened and I'd always have people trailing me. But Marvel was different, and I want him to stay that way. I never wanted to force him to fall in love with me."

Well at least the last part was the truth. I'm only even indulging in this conversation the Capitol audience's benefit, but Marina doesn't seem to notice that I'm over-sharing. Maybe this is a normal conversation for her back in Four.

"You should tell him," Marina murmurs. Pity I don't want or need shines in her dark eyes.

"What would be the point?" I say bitterly, "There's only one Victor."

As the sun sets, the Cornucopia is awash in purples and red layers, shifting as the sun dips further and further downwards. I know it's probably fake but I really hope it's not. That miles away, back at home, my family and Sparkle are watching the same sunset.

"It's beautiful," I murmur as the branch besides me rustles.

"The only beautiful things in life are those that make you rich or fill your belly," Finch says, "Please tell me you got me food."

I hold out the loaf of bread, and she snatches it from my hand, tearing it open, "Where was my lunch today?"

I frown, "I put it under the bush at midday."

"Which bush?" She mumbles through the food.

"Uh..." I shrug helplessly, "the one nearest the forest, to the left, I think?"

She follows my finger as a point, and then swallows her mouthful, sighing, "Well you may have just boosted the competition."

"What do you mean?"

"I saw the girl from District Eleven go into that bush this morning."

"I'm sorry, Finch," I say, as she continues to wolf down the bread, "I'd just assumed you'd find it."

"I'm not that good, Princess," She scoffs. She rips another piece of bread away from the loaf with her fingers before setting the bread down, "Tell me about the mines."

"They'll be seven different paths to the food, and Alvis will change them each day."

"Seven? Shit."

"I got him to show me one."

"I know. I saw. Take away the unnecessary twirls and flips, and it doesn't look too bad. But seven? That's way too much to memorise. And we won't know which ones he'll be doing and when."

"So we watch him," I decide, "See which one he's doing each day. He's going to have to get the food regularly."

"I saw you doing the mines," She says, "Couldn't you tell from that which were safe?"

"No," I admit, "I connected the wires. That was all."

We look at the sunset in silence, watching the colours shift to darker hues. Beside me, Finch shivers and I hand over a blanket I have beside me.

"Here," I drop it into her open palms as she stares bewildered, "This should keep you warm. I'll get you some hot food tomorrow."

I glance at the sunset, but turn back when I realise she still hasn't spoken. "What? You didn't spot it before?"

"No, I did. I just assumed it was for you. Where did you get it?"

"The supply pyramid," I lie.

"Well, thanks," She wraps the thick fabric around her, "Completely unnecessary though. I was fine."

"Right."

Silence falls, broken only by Finch manoeuvring the blanket. A corner of it falls onto my lap.

"Hey, Princess?" Her voice is quiet, vulnerable.

"Yeah?"

"Why did you want me for an ally?"

"I thought it was obvious. You're resourceful and smart, and I admire you." When she makes a disgruntled noise, I laugh quietly, "It's true. You know, you're the only person in this arena I can have a decent conversation with. Everyone else are idiots."

"That's because you let them think you're an idiot so they talk down to you," She huffs.

"True," I concede, "So go on then, why have me for an ally?"

"Well for starters, you're not a complete cretin," She flashes a smile.

"Knew it," I say triumphantly.

"But also," Her voice drops into a murmur, "You're the first person whose ever truly looked at me...and understood."

I glance across at her. Her shoulders are hunched, fingers playing with the blanket on her lap.

Suddenly, trumpets fill the air – the precursor to the Capitol anthem- and we both jump. Then I realise what its' for. To show the fallen tributes. I shift closer to Finch whilst the music plays, covering my hand with my mouth.

"Tell me if this sounds familiar," I say, "There's a girl in a District who's just too observant. It freaks people out. So they ignore her wherever she goes."

"And she thinks she's less than nothing," Finch mutters.

Tasmin's face appears in the sky, serious and unsmiling. I'm again reminded of her loss, and that I only have one true ally in this arena. And suddenly I'm compelled to tell Finch the truth.

So whilst the music's playing, I whisper, "I didn't buy that poison ring. I made it."

There's a twitch of a smile. "I know. I realised when you were working on the mines. Why did you volunteer?"

The music's stopped now. There's nothing to cover our conversation.

"Because I was stupid. You know, it was meant to be my cousin who volunteered, but I realised on the day that he wouldn't, and someone had to represent my family. You know, do what they wanted us to do," I keep it vague, but drop my finger to where my ring would have been. I wonder if she understands. Whether she'll link it to the party. The death. "And once upon a time, I was friends with the girl who was Reaped, so..."

"You thought you owed it to her?" She asks quietly.

"I don't know. Maybe." I sigh, "I mean, she's a horrible person but I still didn't want her going to her death. Does that make sense?"

There's silence as she digests my words. For a terrible moment, I wonder if she's not the person I thought she was. That she'll decide she doesn't want me as her ally anymore. But then she nods.

"I know what that feels like. To owe someone because they've shown you a scrap of kindness. Not that I owe you," She adds quickly, "Besides, I think I've done enough to repay you ten times over, don't you?"

I laugh quietly, "You certainly have." I reach out and press my hand over hers, "But we are more than what we give to others. And we are more than what others think of us."

Her lips part into a full smile.

"Finch," I murmur, "If I don't win, then I want you to. For me."

She draws back her hand, "Don't talk nonsense. You're going to win, Princess."

"Okay but if I don't-."

"Stop," She shakes her head, angry, "Just stop. There's no point, Princess. I have no one to go back to."

"Yeah you will. My family. Promise me you'll see them for me. I think you'd like Sparkle."

She glances over, startled, "Yeah?"

"Yeah."

There's a pause, and then she huffs, "Fine. I promise. But no more talk of death, alright? You and I, we're going to make it to the final six. And we'll show everyone what we're capable of."

"Yeah," I grin, "We will."

Clove waits for me as I crawl into my tent. My sleeping bag is how I left it- open and blanket-less.

"Out for a midnight stroll again?" She asks.

"Just watching the sunset. You know, each one of them is something special."

"They must be," There's a knife in her hand. Was that there before? "When you don't know if one will be your last."

The tent unzips behind me and I turn quickly to see Cato clambering into my tent, sword in hand.

"Ah," I say, contriving and failing to sound casual, "It's time?"

Cato's teeth flash in the darkness, "Yes. Time for us to have a little chat."