ROMAN.
I don’t know what kind of magic happens, but every time we do conduct the Ritual, the sun sets fast and darkness comes quickly.
It’s true for tonight, as me and the men camp out in the darkness. Some of them have lit fires, while some of us—like the camp I have with August and Janus—don’t even bother. They have released twelve golden does, and we’re still supposed to capture them alive. I know that seeing the fire would drive them away.
But I do notice August looking at the roaring bonfires with a hint of jealousy. “You know, it would be nice to have those. It is getting cold.”
“If you call this cold, you’re going to die in the north,” Janus jokes with him, earning a smack on the arm. “Seriously, though. We don’t need fire. If I’m being honest I want to just start the hunt so we don’t need to worry about it in the morning. They’re all chilling in here, so we might as well get a headstart.”
Unfortunately, he’s right about that. I know this Ritual is supposed to be for me
