Without another word, Meng walks back to the fire and pokes at it with the pointed tip of his weapon. Iris opens her mouth to say something, and Meng raises his hand, silencing her. He points a finger toward the roof.

“Come on,” I say to Iris, and start climbing the ladder.

Iris hesitates, looking to Meng with curiosity and disappointment, then follows me up. “He could have at least given us a few days,” she says when we hop inside the cabin and close up the roof. “He could have at least told us more about how he survived here, or what happened to him and his son.”

“He’s a jerk is what he is,” Minnle says, moving his jaw to work out more of the numbness.

“That’s no excuse. I have a right to live here if I want.”

As Iris puts her hands on her hips, I notice the marks of sweat along her arms. Though she’s covered in bites and dirt, and a little blood, I can’t help but realize how the cloth clings to her hips.

“We…” I say, pausing to gather my thoughts. “We should probably do what he wants.”

Even William and Mally look up when I say this.

“What?” Minnle asks.

“We came here to follow Meng’s example, right? Maybe following his advice is in the spirit of the group,” I say. Iris catches my eye, her eyes wide at first with shock and then with what I can’t help but think is relief. “I don’t know. We should sleep on it at least.”

At this notion, everyone agrees.

Sleep comes easily for all of us. We haven’t gotten any since we were at sea. My dream is so utterly sweet, though I can’t quite understand anything more than the feeling of joy from it, that I nearly grunt with irritation when a creak pops open my eyes.

My heart immediately accelerates, awakened by the faint sound of movement in the cabin. I keep my eyes open, unable to see through the darkness, as I listen and wait for a second sound to confirm my fear that something is moving inside. A second, almost inaudible creak confirms my fear.

I turn over, silently and slowly, and see the others sleeping. Iris lays beside me, a strangely comfortable expression on her snoozing face. Mally lies on the bed and Minnle sleeps underneath it. William, however, stands as a moving silhouette. He’s going through Meng’s things. The noise I heard was William picking up Meng’s weapon.

I don’t move as I watch William examine the bone-hafted weapon with the sickle and spear tips. I could have sworn Meng kept his on him. This must be a spare.

William holds the weapon close to his eyes, examining it. He’s not inspecting its craftsmanship or design. He appears to be looking for something.

“What are you doing?” I ask in an accusatory whisper.

William nearly drops Meng’s weapon as he grabs his quarterstaff, left leaning against the wall. When he realizes it’s just me, he relaxes and puts his weapon back against the wall. “Keep quiet,” William cautions.

“What are you doing, Prophet?” I check Iris and the others, hoping they won’t be disturbed by our whispering.

William scoffs at the question. “Confirming a theory.”

“What’s that?” I make sure to be utterly silent as I stand, walking toward William.

“Did you ever wonder why I survived out at sea, why that wolf didn’t kill me when it nearly ripped my throat out?”

“I did. I just thought you were skilled.”

William shakes his head. “That, and I’m a Gold Prophet. Haven’t you wondered the same thing about Meng?”

I step back, shocked. “You think Meng’s a Prophet?”

“How else could he have survived here? Why else would he be so secretive and not want you and your group to stay with him?”

“Are you here to kill him?”

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William laughs very softly. “Far from it. If he is a Prophet, then we could use him. We could—”

William disappears through the roof as a pair of stout hands reaches down and pulls him up. I jump back as William drops Meng’s weapon and his golden quarterstaff shoots up after him.

“Going through my things, are you?” I hear Meng accuse William on the roof.

“Let me go!” William says.

“You think I’m a Prophet?”

I look up through the hole and see Meng throw William off the roof. I can barely hear the Prophet as he tumbles over the ground.

Iris and the others wake up with the noise and I use my hands to caution them. “Shh,” I say. “It’s just William and Meng.”

“What’s going on?” Iris asks, standing up quickly.

“Let’s go see.”

Iris and I exit the cabin to find Meng holding William by the Prophet’s shirt collar. William’s golden quarterstaff is in Meng’s hand, held out of reach of the Prophet’s grasp.

“You want this?” Meng asks, referring to the weapon. “You want your weapon so you can kill me?”

“No, Meng…” William says and laughs. “You’re just proving yourself to me now. You have to be a Prophet.”

Meng throws William a good five feet across the ground. He bends down and picks up his spear-like weapon and holds it out for William to see. “You see this? I made three of them. I’ve broken ten more so far. They’re not Prophet weapons, they’re made from bone and metal and wood.”

“You can’t expect me to believe you survived here without being a Prophet.”

“You really think I’m a Prophet? Amazing. I thought you Prophets were foolish before. Now that I know you can’t even keep track of your own members you’ve lost all my respect.”

William laughs again.

“Why did you come with us, William?” I ask, tempted to pick up Meng’s weapon. “Why did you join our group?”

William looks at the three of us, trying to fight a smile. “I’ve fought and trained my whole life to be the best Gold I can,” he says, standing up slowly. “I’ve been everywhere to train, across lands people didn’t even think could exist. But none of them can compare to Wilds. When I heard about this island, I knew that if I could survive here I could survive anywhere.”

“You came here to train yourself?” Meng asks.

“And to see if I was stronger than you.”

“I’m not a Prophet.”

“But look at you,” William says. “You’re holding my weapon in your hand. You snuck up on me. If I wanted to fight you, you might even have a chance of winning.”

“So?”

“So, you’re a great man. And you’ve been stuck here doing nothing for too long. It’s your life’s mission, your worth in the universe to train Prophets.”

“I’m not a Prophet,” Meng says in a biting tone, and tosses William his quarterstaff with such force I’m surprised the Prophet is able to catch it.

“That doesn’t matter,” William replies, shaking his head. “You can train Prophets to survive here. Golds, Reds, even Whites can learn so much from only a short time in Wilds with you.”

Meng curses the Sevens Prophets, spitting on the smoldering fire. “That’s what I think of the Prophets, you meddlers.”

“If you do this, Meng, it might win back the love of your son.”

Meng throws his own weapon so fast the Prophet doesn’t even notice the motion until Meng’s spear-bottomed weapon is sticking out of his shoulder. William looks at it in confusion and laughs, impressed.

“Get out,” Meng says, pointing toward the coast. “Get out of my camp. Get away from me.”

“I can deliver a message to him,” William says, his quarterstaff glowing with his Golden power as he pulls Meng’s weapon out of his muscle. He tosses the bloodied weapon on the ground as the wound begins to seal up. “Gentry must miss his father.”

“I said get out.”

A white light flashes and suddenly a woman is standing next to William. She walks over without saying a word and grabs Meng by the shoulder. “Not without you,” William says.

All three disappear in a blinding flash of white.

The darkness of Wilds’ starless night returns. I run over to where Meng was standing, too late to stop them from leaving.

“Where did they go?” Iris asks, scanning the woods in search of where the three might have run off to.

“Prophets,” I bite.

“What happened?”

“I don’t know. That woman must have been a Prophet too. She must have taken them both.”

“Where?”

“I don’t know.”

“She was here less than a moment ago. How could she show up and disappear without us knowing — how could she get here?”

I shake my head. “I don’t know. I don’t know what Prophets can and can’t do, Iris. Maybe they can turn invisible. They could be talking to each other in plain sight of us right now for all we know,” I say.

Iris steps over to the bloodied spear, kicks it into the air, and grabs it, twirling it around in a menacing stance as she searches for something to use the blade on. “Come out then, Prophets!” she screams. “Show yourselves you cowards.”

“Iris, Iris.” I cautiously approach the woman with my hands held out, reaching for the weapon and grabbing its haft. “Stop shouting. Do you hear that?” Iris and I stand in silence for a few seconds, listening to the cadence of sounds raining throughout the forest. A distant howl breaks the harmony of the night. “I don’t know what that was. And without Meng here we have no way of knowing how to fight the stuff out here. Stay calm, okay.”

Iris nods, biting her lip. “I’m sorry.”

“Go inside and wake the others. They need to know what’s going on.”

Iris nods and hurries to the ladder to warn Mally and Minnle while I rub what’s left of William’s blood off the pointed bottom of Meng’s weapon. My eyes are used to darkness, trained to see with only the minute help of the moon or stars. Here in Wilds, the darkness seems almost a part of the inhuman environment, yet another antagonist to our presence.

A sudden rush of fear washes over me that I’m glad Iris isn’t here to see. We came here to find Meng. We did. Now Meng is gone.

“What are we going to do?” I ask myself.