The Forsaken

her. She comes over and sits down next to me with a bowl, across from Gadya.
    “So did Alenna tell you about her decision?” Gadya asks. “She’s becoming one of us. A hunter, I mean. She’s joining Operation Tiger Strike.”
    Rika looks at me, strangely unsurprised. “I thought you might.”
    “Really? I didn’t even know myself until today.”
    “Something in your eyes gave it away. There’s a fire in them. Not as plain to see as Gadya’s. But it’s there.”
    I feel embarrassed. “I’m not so sure about that.”
    “Oh, I am,” Rika says confidently. “I know these things.” She takes a bite of the stew. Furrows her brow. “Too much salt. Tastes like seawater.” She looks at me again. “Just be sure to send me a postcard when you get there, okay?”
    I laugh. I’d almost forgotten that postcards existed. The wheel has a way of wiping out time and memory. I feel like I could be living two hundred years in the past—or two hundred years in the future.
    A shadow falls over our table, blocking the light from the nearby torches. I look up and see Markus.
    “We’re eating here,” Gadya says impatiently. “What?”
    “Veidman sent me to get Alenna.”
    I suddenly feel nervous. “Is this about earlier today?”
    “He didn’t say. He’s waiting for you in his cabin.”
    I stand up, extracting my legs from the bench.
    “Follow me.” Markus starts heading away from the table. Faking a nonchalant shrug at Gadya and Rika, I follow. Could Veidman have found out about me and David somehow? If David really was a spy, does Veidman think that I’m involved?
    Markus is ominously silent as he guides me to the cabin. All around, I hear the noises of the forest at night: the thrum of insects, the crackling of twigs, and the whisper of the wind through tree branches.
    We quickly reach our destination. The metal roof of Veidman’s cabin is corroded, and one side is now propped up with a broken tree branch. A few hunters whose names I don’t know are sitting on fallen trees outside. They’re scarfing hoofer meat, gnawing it right off the bone and washing it down with juice from hollowed-out melons. Liam is not among them.
    “Vei?” Markus calls out, pausing in front of the cabin’s flimsy wooden door.
    “Come in,” Veidman’s voice answers.
    Markus swings the door open, and I step inside. Veidman sits at a makeshift desk—a wooden board propped up on piles of rock. A clutch of tallow candles burns on a window ledge. The cabin is warm and smells like hoofer fat.
    “Hey, Alenna,” Veidman says, smiling. Even in the dim light, he still seems to possess his peculiar glow. He looks calmer and more relaxed now than he did at the fire pit. I feel relieved. Markus shuts the door behind me, and I hear his footsteps heading away.
    I take a seat across from Veidman on a strange chair that feels as soft and comfortable as a beanbag. I look down and realize it’s made from dried hoofer skins wrapped around a bunch of ferns.
    “I need to ask you a favor,” Veidman says.
    “Sure. Anything.”
    He presses his hands together. “I want you to consider joining the expedition and coming with us.”
    I startle him by smiling. “Actually, I already decided that I’m going.” He looks a little surprised, so I feel like I have to give him a reason. Obviously I don’t mention anything about David or my parents. “It’s because of Gadya,” I explain. “She’s my friend. And she’s the one who rescued me and brought me to the village. I want to become a warrior like her.”
    He nods. “That’s great news.” I’m thinking, So that’s it? That’s the favor? But Veidman isn’t done yet. “There’s something else.”
    “What?”
    “With Meira staying behind, I need someone to keep a lookout for me on the journey. Who lets me know if anyone says or does anything suspicious. That kind of thing. Understand?”
    “You want me to be your snitch, basically.”
    He leans forward. Cups his hands under his chin. “Basically.”
    I don’t know if I should feel flattered or offended. “Why me? I’m one of the newest kids here. And after what happened with David, why do you trust me? I mean, he passed the truth serum test, but you still didn’t trust him.”
    “Unlike David, you passed the truth test with flying colors. There were questions he answered too smoothly and quickly. He didn’t act like other kids do when they’re given the serum. You’re a known quantity. Not everyone else is. But beyond