The Great War.

XVIII

"Panem Et Circenses."

It has been the coldest night so far. We spend hours traversing the forest, attempting to fend off the cold with nothing but our jackets. The Gamemakers have decided it would be entertaining to test our endurance in these extreme temperatures. Not only are the nights bitterly cold, but as soon as the sun appears over the horizon, the temperature increases to a dangerous level.

We wander in circles, searching for a way to ensnare the tributes from District 12, but our minds draw a blank. We are at a standstill, but at least we have enough food to survive for a few more days. The afternoon stretches on agonizingly, with no purpose except for aimless walking. Time passes sluggishly; the sun still hangs above the horizon, but the temperature begins to plummet once again. I have no idea what the Gamemakers are up to, but Cato seems to have an idea.

"Should we go back to the Cornucopia?" He asks with a hint of hesitation. "I mean, it could be a decent shelter against the cold, and there's a chance we might find someone there."

His idea isn't that bad. It's better than running under the freezing dew. It's only a matter of time before these drastic temperature changes start affecting our bodies somehow. The Cornucopia will be empty; it's a nice shelter, and probably the other tributes have already thought of it as well. About ten minutes later, I remember the words of my deceased ally from District 1.

"It's a bad plan," I say while Glimmer's words pierce through my mind like a sharp dagger, reigniting my distrust towards the Gamemakers. "The Cornucopia captures the arena's climate. It would be the same as sleeping out in the open, anyone who has stepped inside of it might already know that."

He sighs out of frustration and angrily throws his backpack against a tree trunk. Sensing the tension, I step back, avoiding any potential outburst directed at me. I'm not in the mood for an unnecessary fight with Cato, especially now that I need him alive to get out of here. I understand his anger because I feel the same way since we're not going anywhere, the end of the Games is near, and we probably look like a pair of useless idiots that can't hunt. The calmness in the arena is extremely unsettling. No one has died in days, and that can't mean anything good. The fewer things that happen during the Games, the deadlier the traps set by the Gamemakers will become.

The sound of trumpets takes me by surprise. My heart beats so fiercelly that I can feel it pulsating in my temples. I have a feeling they will revoke the rule of two victors, as nothing like this has ever been seen in any previous Games. As a precaution, I retrieve a small knife from my vest and stand there, waiting for the announcement. Claudius Templesmith's voice reverberates through the arena, inviting us to a feast. I glance at Cato, and he shakes his head. I know what it means: they are not doing this for us; we have enough food to survive for over a week. I shrug, tuck the knife back into my vest, and sit down next to my district partner.

"Now hold on. Some of you may already be declining my invitation. But this is no ordinary feast. Each of you needs something desperately." Claudius's words hang in the air while Cato and I exchange confused glances since he's clearly not talking about us. "Each of you will find that something in a backpack, marked with your district number, at the Cornucopia at dawn. Think hard about refusing to show up. For some of you, this will be your last chance."

The announcement ends, and the silence of the forest returns. I imagine the other tributes must be going through a tough time for the Gamemakers to arrange a feast. Despite everything, Cato and I are fine. We don't need food, water, or weapons, but we do need an opportunity to eliminate our competition. If the others are desperate enough to attend the feast, it will be a perfect moment to have them all in one place.

"I'm going to kill her," Cato whispers. "Let's put an end to this once and for all."

"Do you really think you can reach her before she shoots you?" I ask while crossing my arms. "I'll go; I'm smaller and faster than you."