Голодные игры
Chapter 21
Asifthedaytimetreesandflowersandstoneshadgonetobedandsentslightlymoreominousversionsofthemselvestotaketheirplaces.Idon’ttryanythingtricky,liketakinganewroute.ImakemywaybackupthestreamandfollowthesamepathbacktoRue’shidingplacenearthelake.Alongtheway,Iseenosignofanothertribute,notapuffofbreath,notaquiverofabranch.EitherI’mthefirsttoarriveortheotherspositionedthemselveslastnight.There’sstillmorethananhour,maybetwo,whenIwriggleintotheunderbrushandwaitforthebloodtobegintoflow.
Ichewafewmintleaves,mystomachisn’tupformuchmore.Thankgoodness,IhavePeeta’sjacketaswellasmyown.Ifnot,I’dbeforcedtomovearoundtostaywarm.Theskyturnsamistymorninggrayandstillthere’snosignoftheothertributes.It’snotsurprisingreally.Everyonehasdistinguishedthemselveseitherbystrengthordeadlinessorcunning.Dotheysuppose,Iwonder,thatIhavePeetawithme?IdoubtFoxfaceandThreshevenknowhewaswounded.Allthebetteriftheythinkhe’scoveringmewhenIgoinforthebackpack.
Butwhereisit?Thearenahaslightenedenoughformetoremovemyglasses.Icanhearthemorningbirdssinging.Isn’tittime?Forasecond,I’mpanickedthatI’matthewronglocation.Butno,I’mcertainIrememberClaudiusTemplesmithspecifyingtheCornucopia.Andthereitis.AndhereIam.Sowhere’smyfeast?
JustasthefirstrayofsunglintsoffthegoldCornucopia,there’sadisturbanceontheplain.
