The 7th Lie

by Tamara Grantham

  “Do you think we could be on a moon?” I asked.

  “I doubt it. For us to be on a moon, we’d have to be near a planet, and I’ve never seen one. If it were one of Jupiter’s moons, for example, the planet would be hard to miss. It would take up half the sky.”

  I glanced up at the purple-tinted dome overshadowing us, mimicking the sky. “What if the dome were hiding the planet?”

  “No.” He shook his head. “We’d still be able to see something out there.”

  “Haven’t you seen anything that would give us a clue to our location?”

  “Maybe.” He rubbed his neck. “But I can’t be sure yet. We need to get to the cave.”

  We mounted our bikes. Morven sat nimbly, his black hair whipping in the wind. He focused on the horizon, eyes shining with intelligence, as if he held the clues to Ithical’s mysteries.

  As the sun reached its zenith, the landscape changed once again, from a desolate waste to the familiar trees and grass. The emerald green hues looked so odd against the purple-tinged sky. It didn’t take a wild imagination to realize we were somewhere other than Earth.

  Hills became more frequent as we rode. My engine sputtered, slowing down. I pushed the handlebars forward. The engine clanked, but it didn’t speed up.

  “Morven,” I called, riding next to him. “There’s something wrong with my velocipede.”

  We stopped and dismounted. Morven knelt by the vehicle, removing a side panel to inspect the engine chamber. Inside, glowing tubes swirled around a small yellow crystal encased in a glass box. The light pulsed, dimming, then glowing bright once again.

  “It’s what I thought.” Morven wiggled the box. “We’ll both be having this problem soon. The engines are using up more cerecite than what they’re used to. It’s the atmosphere out here. We’ll have to stop in Edenbrooke for more.”

  “Do you think we’ll make it?”

  He replaced the panel. “Yes. It’s off our path, but we’re not far. Half an hour, maybe.”

  We climbed on our velocipedes. My engine sputtered as I pushed the handlebars, though managed to crawl forward and eventually speed up.

  As the wind whipped past, my mind wandered, conjuring images of Dad working on his tractor in the barn, the smell of grease heavy in the air, working for a life he’d never have. One with Mom in it. I remembered the way she made him laugh—a genuine sound of happiness. I hadn’t heard him laugh since her death, as if she’d taken his joy with her when she’d died.

  We crested a knoll. Castle-like turrets rose over a village of thatched-roof houses. Grass cushioned our velocipede’s tires as we rode down toward the settlement. Windmills fanned the air, creaking as they rotated. Cows grazed in the fields. The barnyard scent brought back memories from my childhood, of following Mima June down the trail to the dairy barn. What would she think of Morven? Did I care what she thought of him? Yes. I supposed I did, and I desperately prayed she’d like him, though I wasn’t sure why it mattered so much.

  We stopped our velocipedes and walked into the village. A few people passed us, wearing plaids of bright green or red. We drew a few stares. Was it careless for us to be wandering around the village like this? Would any of them recognize the prince? But Prince Morven never got out. Ever.

  Church bells rang in the distance. Children laughed and played in a nearby garden. Astonishment struck me at the thought that I wasn’t on Earth. Life existed out in the universe, and I’d never known. No one had known.

  We parked our velocipedes outside a building made of stones and log planks. A sign swinging on a pole shone with paint in metallic colors of yellow, blue, and green, creating three interlocking circles.

  Morven pointed at the sign. “Should be a cerecite resupply post. Stay close.” His voice dropped. “Never know what kind of people to expect in here.”

  I followed him into the building, my eyes slowly adjusting to the dimness. The air held a musky smell. Lanterns glowed blue from the center of round tables where people crowded, casting an eerie light on their grizzled faces. Some talked in quiet voices, others held tankards as they watched us cross through the room.

  Rows of glass jars filled with azure and emerald-colored crystals lined a row of shelves. They sat behind a long counter running the length of the back wall. Other jars held an amber-colored liquid, an alcohol of some sort.

  A man with a stocky frame and bald head stood on the opposite side of the bar, wiping the wooden top with a discolored rag. Sweat beaded on his head and streaked the white fabric under his arms. He scratched his stubbled chin as he took in our appearances.

  “Welcome to Edenbrooke Post.” He spoke with a gruff, rasping voice, his Scottish accent thick, as he wiped his hands on his grease-spattered apron. “I don’t believe I’ve ever seen you two before. Are you outsiders?”

  “Yes,” Morven answered. “From the south.”

  “I see. Travelers, then.” He adjusted his apron over his protruding middle, then started wiping the counter once again. “We don’t get many of those. Where’d you say you were from?”

  “The south,” Morven repeated, an edge of warning in his tone.

  “Ahh.” The man gave Morven a long glance. “I see. Why’ve you come all the way to Edenbrooke?”

  “We’ve come to purchase two vials of yellow cerecite.”

  “Two?” He stopped wiping the counter. “That’s a might lot. We’ve had shortages of yellow cerecite. You’ve no doubt heard about the trouble with the mines. It’s volatile, too. I’m afraid I don’t keep much on my shelves. Not wanting to blow the place up. I can part with one, but that’s it. It’ll cost you twenty silver.”

  “But we need two,” Morven said. “And I can pay for it.” He placed four gold coins on the countertop. The man’s eyes widened a fraction.

  He rubbed his chin. “Forty gold?”

  Morven nodded.

  “Let me see what I’ve got.” Coins clinked as he placed them in his apron’s pocket, then he turned away and entered a room at the back.

  As we stood at the counter, the room grew quiet. Only a few people spoke in hushed whispers. A chill prickled my back as their stares lingered on us. A gleam of silver in a man’s belt caught my attention. The turquoise, curving handle of a weapon peeked from a holster.

  The shopkeeper ambled back to us. Yellow crystals sparkled from a vial he carefully placed on the counter. “This is all I have.”

  “That’s it?” Morven asked.

  “I’m afraid so.” He cleared his throat. “As I said, there’s a shortage. But the good news is that you can take this, no questions asked, so long as I keep the gold.”

  “But we paid you forty gold,” I said. “You only asked for twenty silver.”

  His eyes glinted. He focused on me, as if seeing me for the first time. “Yes, but as I said, you can take this one with no questions asked. That might be a useful benefit to travelers such as yourselves.”

  “We’ll take it.” Morven snatched the vial off the counter.

  “Morven,” I hissed. “He’s robbing us.”

  The man crossed his arms over his broad chest, casting me a gloating look.

  Morven snatched my arm, and I followed beside him. “Let’s go.”

  “Morven,” I whispered. “You can’t just let him take your money like that.”

  “It’s fine.” He glanced over his shoulder. “It’s better if we leave now, anyway.”

  All the eyes in the room followed us. Some of the men spoke quietly to each other. A man sitting near me clasped his hands atop the table, his fingernails dirty, his hands stained with greenish powder. I catalogued the other men’s hands, zeroing in on each pair, all with the same stains.

  We exited the building with the glass of yellow cerecite. The sunlight blinded me, and I shielded my eyes against its brightness.

  Morven worked quickly to add the yellow cerecite to the engine chambers, only adding a few crystals to each one, and placed the vial back in his pocket when he was done.

  H
e straightened, eyes lingering on the sign creaking in the wind. “We’ll have to hurry.”

  “They’re miners, aren’t they?” I crossed my arms.

  “Yeah, but I don’t know why so many are here. Edenbrooke’s a dairy town, and the mines are more than fifty kilometers away.” He shook his head. “Nowhere close.”

  I grabbed my velocipede’s handles. “Why do you think they’re here?”

  His eyes darkened. “Most likely because this town is remote, and it’s also closer to the capital.”

  “They’re planning to do something, aren’t they?”

  His calculating gaze locked on me. “It wouldn’t surprise me.” He sat on his velocipede and started the engine. I did the same, then I pushed the ignition button.

  It roared to life, and we rode through empty streets paved in gravel.

  I steered close to Morven so he could hear me over the engines. “Can we do anything about the miners?”

  “Like what?”

  “Go back to the capital?” I answered. “Warn your aunt?”

  “It wouldn’t do any good,” he said.

  “Why not?”

  “Because she already knows of the threat. The best thing we can do is go to the cave. If we find the origins of the cerecite, then maybe it will benefit the miners. Maybe find alternate ways of obtaining it. Safer ways. Maybe it will keep them from revolting.”

  Steering our bikes out of the city, we rode over the dirt-packed ground, careful to avoid the larger stones. The sun began its descent toward the horizon, turning the sky to shades of molten copper. Rust-colored crags punctuated the landscape. Massive round spheres lit the world around us in blazing turquoise green.

  We rode our velocipedes up a steep path, then into a canyon. A cave’s entrance, a dark spot in the rock, split through the canyon’s wall. Giant crystals grew from the ground, gleaming with a milky-white light around towering piles of round stones.

  We stopped our bikes, my ears buzzing at the sudden silence. A shrill wind howled. My spine tingled as I stared into the cave.

  “This is it?” I asked, my voice drowned out by the wind.

  “Yes.” He pulled a scroll from his bag, clouds of dust spiraling around us. I shielded my eyes as I followed Morven to the mouth of the cave. When we stepped inside, the walls blocked the wind. Except for our echoing footsteps, silence stretched. Stone encased us in a cocoon.

  Boulders piled along our trail gave us enough light to see the cavern’s ceiling.

  “Why are there so many stones here?” I asked. “I’ve never seen so many in one place.”

  Morven glanced at the piles towering around us. “I don’t know.” His voice echoed.

  Except for their glow, their size and shape matched the boulders on Champ Island. We followed the trail of rocks, like breadcrumbs leading us to the truth of not only Ithical’s origins, but Champ Island’s as well.

  A trickling stream of water cut a path through the cavern floor. Sand shifted beneath our feet.

  “These formations.” I pointed to the crystals. “What are they?”

  “Salt crystals,” he answered. “They’re all over this cave.”

  “Salt?” I asked.

  “Yes,” he answered with a nod.

  “That’s odd.” Some of the stone-like crystals towered over me. Salt. Was it a clue to our true location? What planets did I know of that contained salt? Shaking my head, I couldn’t think of a single astronomy book I’d read mentioning salt.

  “This place hasn’t changed much.” Morven’s whispered voice echoed through the immense chamber. “I remember my da and I found the mining tools just ahead, past a ravine and a waterfall.”

  I shot him a sidelong glance. “A ravine?”

  “Yes. Don’t worry.” He gave a brief smile. “I brought ropes.”

  His smile caught me off guard, and that fluttering deep in the pit of my stomach returned.

  To stay distracted, I adjusted my bag’s straps, recalling its contents. I’d put my scanner and Rosa’s journal inside. It seemed she and I had taken similar paths, and it wasn’t a coincidence that my journey had brought me here. Had Rosa discovered what was inside this cave? If so, what had she found? Were the final objects here? Or had she found something more?

  A nagging voice warned me I was getting too involved in mysteries that should’ve remained unsolved. But Vortech had lied to me about this mission from the start, and I couldn’t help but wonder if they might’ve been part of Rosa’s disappearance. Had Ivan had something to do with it? He’d kept things from me. I knew that for certain. And he’d been watching me.

  The humidity made my clothes stick to my skin. The roar of a waterfall came from up ahead where water thundered to the bottom of a deep ravine. Mist hung in the air, and cold droplets splashed my skin as we stood looking over the drop.

  “We’ll have to rappel down,” Morven shouted. “Do you know how?”

  “Yes,” I answered, omitting the part about learning it from Vortech.

  “I’ll get the ropes.”

  He opened his bag and pulled out two coils. “Here.” He handed one to me. “Tie this off on one of the larger salt crystal growths.”

  I hefted the rope. “This’ll hold our weight?”

  He nodded. “They’re strong enough. It would take a lot more than us to break them.”

  “Got it.” I walked to one of the taller growths of crystals. Three beryl-shaped stones protruded from the ground. I ran my hand over the surface, cool and smooth to the touch. I was struck with the image of the living crystals, something that must’ve been native to Ithical and not a man-made cerecite creation.

  After securing the rope to the pillars, I tied loops around my thigh, across my body, and over my shoulder. Good thing I’d passed Vortech’s rappelling course. I stood beside Morven on the ledge.

  “Ready?” he asked, tying his own rope around his waist and legs.

  “I guess so.” I adjusted the rope around my shoulder. “I’ve only been rappelling a few times. I wasn’t very good at it.”

  “You don’t have to be good at it.” He tightened a knot. “You just have to do it—and preferably without dying.”

  “Good point.”

  “Besides.” He shrugged. “You’re talking to the boy who’s been mostly paralyzed for the last ten years. I’ve just started to walk again, and now I’m rock climbing. I’m not sure if I’m brave or stupid.”

  He paced to the edge and turned to face me. He held to the rope, then took a careful step backward. As he lowered, I stepped to the edge. My head spun as I stared down at the dizzying drop. How many feet was it? Eighty? Ninety? Exhaling, I turned around and took a step down.

  I moved slowly with the rope in my hands. Stones crumbled under my feet, and finding footholds took patience. I did my best not to glance down, taking slow and steady breaths to stay focused. I’d never been a fan of heights. Climbing in a remote cave on a foreign world wasn’t exactly on my bucket list.

  Still, I needed answers, and that thought kept me moving as I descended to the bottom.

  I could have kissed the ground when my feet hit bottom. Morven stood beside me as we left our ropes behind and turned to a flowing river.

  Mist dampened my clothes. The swift river churned alongside us, its water inky black in the dark cave. Only the occasional salt crystals or glowing turquoise spheres gave any light.

  The river’s water calmed. The pathway broadened to reveal a domed chamber. Salt crystals grew taller than any I’d seen before. They lit the area in a pale glow.

  Grains of white crystals coated the ground. The taste of salt lingered on my tongue. The eerie stillness of the alien world made chills prickle the back of my neck. I tried shrugging the feeling away, but the deeper we traveled into the cave, the stronger the foreboding became.

  Did Morven feel the same way? He fixed his eyes straight ahead, trancelike. Neither of us spoke. It seemed if we did, we would break the spell haunting this place.

  Ahead, bones p
rotruded from the sand. As we drew closer, I stopped abruptly, staring in shock at a human skeleton. Its empty eye sockets stared blankly overhead, the jaw unhinged, as if screaming.

  I pointed. “Do you see that?”

  “Yeah,” he answered.

  We neared the skeleton. Its teeth remained intact, the bones still fitted together, unmoved by scavenging animals.

  “Is it Isaac?” I asked cautiously, my stomach churning with unease.

  “Could be.” He knitted his brows. “But maybe not. I wouldn’t be surprised if someone, maybe a hiker, had fallen into the ravine.”

  “You think so?” My voice echoed, although I’d barely spoken above a whisper.

  He nodded. His eyes remained fixed on the skull. “The ravine is deadly. It would be easy to slip and fall.”

  I brushed some of the sand away from the skull, revealing the curving lines dividing the cranial plates. “How long do you suppose it’s been down here?”

  “I don’t know. Most bodies would stay fairly preserved because of all the salt. It could be thirty-five or forty years old, but that’s just a guess.” He sat back. “Which means this most likely isn’t Isaac. His remains would be considerably older—if we even find them at all.”

  I brushed the salt off my hands. “Do you think we’ll find him?”

  He nodded. “That’s why we’re here.”

  I followed him away from the skeleton, around piles of stones that stretched into the darkness above.

  “Look.” Morven pointed to a reflective, triangular object straight ahead. As we approached, its mirror-like, metal sheets came into focus. Solar panels covered the pyramid, a few inches taller than Morven.

  “Solar panels,” I said. “Why would anyone need those?”

  “What?” He gave me a questioning glance. “Solar panels?” he said the name slowly. “What are those?”

  “Well...” I stumbled, realizing my mistake. “I’ve seen something similar in my village. Some of the townsfolk used them to collect energy from the sun.”

  “Energy from the sun? Why would they need that?”

  “Because... I don’t know. I guess they thought yellow cerecite was too volatile. Wanted to find something less dangerous.” I hoped he bought the lie.