The Forsaken

me if they think I’m fraternizing with the enemy.
    As I start walking back to the safety of the main clearing, my encounter starts to seem like a mirage or hallucination. Or a ghost. I don’t know who David really is—let alone what his agenda is anymore. I could be in serious trouble. I quicken my pace, heading toward the fire pit.
    THAT NIGHT I GET only a few hours of sleep. As the sun rises over the island in the morning, the sky takes on a reddish hue. It’s finally time for Operation Tiger Strike to take effect.
    Veidman and Meira stand before us at the fire pit in the sun, surveying the entire village. Nearly everyone is here, except for the Ones Who Suffer and some guards. This is the last time all of us will be together for a while—possibly forever.
    “Those of you staying may face tougher challenges than those leaving,” Veidman says, his voice ringing out in the silence. “My thoughts will be with everyone who remains behind.” I notice he doesn’t say “prayers” or anything like that. There’s no religious talk in the village, and there never has been. The Monk has usurped everything religious on the wheel by twisting it into something perverted. The closest thing to religion in the village is probably Rika’s pacifism.
    For once, kids don’t chatter in response to Veidman’s words.
    “Say your good-byes,” Veidman instructs somberly. “The hunters and I will be leaving in half an hour, heading north.”
    A girl nearby breaks down crying, and she is quickly consoled by two of her friends. I feel a pang of longing for the village. It’s the only safe place I know of on the wheel. Maybe I’m making the wrong choice. But I have to find out about my parents.
    “Veidman’s really dragging this nonsense out,” Gadya mutters in my ear impatiently. “Let’s get going already!” I glance at her and see that she’s a war chest of weaponry. Along with her homemade pack, she’s carrying two bows, a clutch of arrows, and a spear that doubles as a walking stick. She sees me staring. “Better safe than sorry.”
    I just have my simple bow and a few arrows that Liam made. And my knife. I haven’t brought the guitar. There’s no room for it in my pack, and I know we’re going into a place where making unnecessary noise could put lives in danger. I’m hoping Liam will understand. I wish I could think of something to do for him that is half as nice as making the guitar.
    I glance up and see that now the group of male hunters is standing in a shirtless row. Liam, Markus, Sinxen, and about ten other boys. All of them are carrying plenty of weapons, including some massive metal-tipped spears. The boys look fierce, and I’m glad they’re on our side.
    My eyes gravitate to Liam. He notices my gaze, and his face softens a little. He risks a subtle wink. My heart surges.
    “We will find a way off the wheel,” Veidman is saying. “We can find an answer. . . .” He looks at Meira, faltering a little. “I guess that’s about it.”
    Some of the kids applaud him.
    “See you in half an hour,” he murmurs, and climbs down from the stump, followed by Meira.
    “I guess we should say good-bye to Rika,” I tell Gadya.
    “She’ll just cry like a big baby. Let’s not make a production out of it.”
    “Gadya! We have to say good-bye. You guys are friends.”
    “Okay, okay,” she says, exasperated. Her eyes are watching Liam. I want to talk to her about him, but it never seems like the right time, and also, I’m chicken.
    In any case, neither of us can find Rika. We search the cooking areas, but there’s no sign of her.
    “She’s gone to help the Ones Who Suffer,” a girl tells us vaguely.
    “Looking for Rika was a dumb idea,” Gadya snaps at me. “She obviously doesn’t care about us.”
    We trudge back to the fire pit. The troops are amassing. I realize that roughly one tenth of the camp is leaving, and the rest are staying. That means nearly twenty of us will be forging ahead into the jungle. Other than the male hunters, there are a couple of hut builders, me and Gadya, and then Veidman.
    The ones who are going are easy to spot, because of their weapons and their packs. Along with my bow and arrows, I have a pack too, slung over one shoulder and filled with cups and tallow candles. Others carry different provisions. Several of the sturdier boys are carrying our water tureens and flasks.
    For security reasons involving the potential spy, no maps have been drawn of the bulk of