The 7th Lie Read online

  Ivan busied himself around the room, placing a kettle on the fire and taking a loaf of bread from a cupboard.

  “Vortech sent me word last week you were coming.” He placed a loaf of bread and some butter in front of me. I tore off a piece and popped it in my mouth, only now realizing how hungry I was.

  “Tell me about the other agents,” I said. “Vortech says they don’t know what happened to them.”

  His eyes narrowed. “Vortech said that, huh?”

  I paused before taking another bite. “Do you know what happened to them?”

  He heaved a long sigh before answering. “Most of the agents found a few pieces of cerecite, then turned up missing. I’ve searched but never found them. This last agent to come through, her name was Rodriguez. Rosa Rodriguez. She got closer than all the others. Found six of the stones. I really thought she had a chance.”

  He placed two mugs of tea on the table, then sat across from me. Brutus lay at his feet, propping his head on his paws, his wide eyes peering up at us.

  “Don’t you have any idea what happened to her?” I asked before sipping the tea.

  “I followed her trail out near the caves past Edenbrooke. Found a few of her things. And this.” He stood, removed a book from a shelf, and placed it on the table in front of me. “Her journal.”

  I opened it, finding the pages filled with sentences written in Spanish and a few crude drawings.

  “She’d had the six pieces of white cerecite with her when she went missing. When I found her, the cerecite was gone.”

  I narrowed my gaze at him. “Any idea where it ended up?”

  He nodded. “The palace,” he answered gravely. “Happened every time. An agent recovers the cerecite, they go missing, and the cerecite returns to the palace.” He leaned forward. “Someone in the palace is causing the agents to disappear. Vortech will tell you not to get involved with the royals. It’s not your business. Stick to finding the cerecite. But you’d be a fool to ignore what’s going on in that place. When Rodriguez disappeared, she was onto something. Vortech says her ECP made her go crazy. She got paranoid. But the truth is, she knew too much. Something with the royals put her on edge, some big secret only they knew.”

  “You think Vortech knew?”

  “No idea. But there’s no doubt the royals are guarding the cerecite. Have been for centuries.” Ivan tapped his fingers on the table in a nervous gesture. “They’ve got a problem with it, though. A big one.”

  Pondering his words, I took a bite of bread. “What kind of problem?”

  “It’s the nature of the stuff. You’ve probably realized by now that this side functions differently than yours and ours. Scientific principles aren’t the same. The white cerecite, for example. In its true form, it looks like a ball of white glass. But it doesn’t stay that way. It mimics objects around it. Put it in a room full of pots and pans, and it changes to look like one of them.”

  Processing his words, I sipped my tea. If my muddled head were from a concussion or trying to make sense of this place, I couldn’t be sure. “Let me get this straight—the past agents found the cerecite, then they went missing. The cerecite ends up back in the palace, but it mimics objects around it, making it hard to find again.”

  “Right.”

  “If that’s the case, then how am I supposed to find it?”

  Brutus paced. Ivan gave him a scratch on his head before he sat in front of the fireplace.

  “Vortech gave you a scanner?” he asked.

  “Yeah. In my bag.”

  “Good. Keep it. That’ll tell you if you’ve got white cerecite. Finding it in the first place is trickier. That’s why they sent you. My guess is you’re good at picking up on details.”

  “I’m okay, I guess.”

  He chuckled and crossed his arms. “Don’t be modest. There’s a reason Vortech sends your type. Once you’re in the palace, you’ll need to pay attention. After ten years, I imagine the objects will be spread around a bit. The royals have tried to keep the objects locked up, but the nature of white cerecite makes it impossible to keep them in one place for long.” He reached across the table and patted Agent Rodriguez’s journal. “She put clues in here as to what form they may’ve taken. For example—” He placed his mug at the table’s center. “We see an ordinary mug.” He spun it around. “Nothing out of the ordinary. But when cerecite takes the form of something, it’s always changing. It’s the chemical nature of the thing. There’s too much radiation for it to contain, so it shifts slightly to keep from going nuclear. You’ll see a cup with a chip one minute. The next minute. No chip.” He took a sip from it, then placed it on the wood with a thud. “That’s why Vortech sent you. You’re good at spotting the little differences no one else notices. ECP, right? Just like Rodriguez.” He nodded at the journal.

  “Yeah, about that. My high school Spanish is rusty.”

  “Then you’ll have to ask for help from your AI unit once it calibrates with this reality. That could take some time, so while you’re waiting, you may as well get familiar with the palace and the people in it.”

  He stood and crossed the room to a bookshelf. Some of the books caught my eye. Ithical-A History. The Tale of the Green Dragon. Mystik Creatures of the Island.

  Books.

  Like the trees, they came unexpectedly, and this new reality was something I’d need time to process.

  The fact that there were books on the island meant the shipwreck victims must’ve done more than just survived here. They’d built a civilization.

  Ivan slid a leather-bound folder from between two books. When he returned to the table, he placed the folder on top of the journal.

  “What’s this?” I opened it to reveal a map on the top of the stack.

  “This is your new reality. Welcome to Ithical Island.”

  “Ithical Island?” I questioned.

  “That’s right. You can’t think of this as Champ Island anymore. Some of the landmarks are the same, the location of the gateways are in the same place, and the positioning of some of the boulders match the other island. But the similarities stop there. This island is immensely bigger than Champ. I don’t know how many square miles, but as far as I’ve traveled, I can tell you it’s large enough to be a continent.”

  I tilted my head. “How is that possible?”

  He shook his head. “I’m no scientist. I can’t even start to guess. Also, another difference, the cerecite shaped this reality into a place you won’t recognize.” He tapped the map. “Might wanna glance at this while you’ve got the opportunity.”

  “Got it.”

  I smoothed a hand over the parchment. Inked lines connected the villages, a broad lake in the southern portion and mountains in the northeastern half. One city, labeled Ithical City, dominated the center of the circular island. Several small villages, Harpsinger, Grimwillow Grove, Edenbrooke, Fablemarch Vale, surrounded the capital. A palace rose at the center of the main city.

  On the next page, I found photos and a list of the royals.

  The dark eyes of one the pictures caught my attention. A man in his early twenties stood apart from the rest, though I wasn’t sure what made me focus on him. Maybe it was his lips pressed to form a thin line, as if he were trying to keep a secret. Or maybe it was his pale skin indicating a chronic illness. Or the angular, masculine shape of his jaw. Whatever it was, I had trouble pulling my gaze from the picture.

  MORVEN ALEXANDER TREMAYNE the photo was labeled.

  “Who’s this?” I asked.

  “The crown prince,” Ivan answered. “Soon to take the throne on his next birthday. We don’t see him often. Word is he’s sick. He only makes appearances every now and then. Doesn’t speak much. Keeps to himself.” He leaned forward, and his gaze fixed on me. “This kid’s parents died just before Rodriguez went missing. Then, no one saw the prince much after that.”

  “You think whoever made Rodriguez disappear had something to do with the death of the royals?”

  Ivan shrugge
d. “Just keep your eyes open in that palace. That’s all I’m saying.”

  I scanned the other photos. Ivan pointed to a picture of a middle-aged woman with arched eyebrows and a smug smile. “This is the queen regent. She’s not well-liked, though to be fair, none of the Tremayne family has made a good impression on their people. There’s been trouble with the cerecite miners lately. Wage disputes and working conditions, that sort of thing. The palace has doubled their guards. Damn near impossible to get into that place.”

  “Interesting.” I gave him a guarded smile. “You do realize I had no idea any of this was here. You’ll have to forgive me if this comes as a shock.”

  He chuckled. “You wouldn’t be the first agent to admit it.”

  I tapped my fingers on the paper. Unanswered questions filled my mind. “If the cerecite is in the palace, and it’s impossible to get inside, how am I supposed to get access to it?”

  His smile showed a hint of his teeth, though the gleam in his eye spoke of danger. “Easy. The prince is always in need of a caretaker. They just fired the last one. I happened to find a young woman from a local fishing village called Fablemarch Vale who’ll fit the bill. She’ll start work in the morning.”

  I raised an eyebrow. “As the prince’s caretaker?”

  He grinned and gave a single nod.

  Sitting back in my chair, I rubbed my forehead. “Wasn’t expecting that one.”

  He shrugged. “You’ll only have to keep up the charade until you find the cerecite.”

  I tapped my fingers on the table, then pushed the envelope aside and opened Rosa’s journal.

  El sonido es una mentira.

  El tiempo es una mentira

  La ubicación es una mentira.

  La materia es una mentira

  La luz es una mentira.

  El mundo es una mentira

  ¿Veneno?

  “This word.” I pointed to mentira. “Any idea what it means? It’s repeated in every phrase except the last.”

  “I’m not sure, but there are seven words on the list.”

  “Seven, as in the seven pieces of cerecite. You said she found six, and six are crossed out. Do you think mentira means cerecite?”

  He scratched his beard. “It’s possible.”

  Sighing, I scanned the other words. Some I understood.

  Tiempo. Time.

  Luz. Light.

  Mundo. World.

  I flipped to the next pages, but the writing grew illegible, all except for the word mentiras written over and over.

  “What happened here?” I pointed to the writing.

  He gave a sigh and shook his head. “Rodriguez, well, she got a little cracked at the end. Started thinking Vortech was after her. It’s a shame really, what happened.” He sipped from his mug and looked toward the room’s only window, though it was too dark to see anything.

  I studied him a moment, picking apart the pieces of his unspoken words. “Ivan, may I borrow your books about Ithical Island? Anything that will help me understand this place better? Vortech wasn’t much help.”

  “Sure. In the bookshelf. I’ve got a few histories and an atlas. Feel free to look through them.” He pointed to the shelves lined in leather bound tomes. Ivan stood and grabbed my empty mug. “You can take the cot. I’ll sleep out in the woodshed. Got a nice bunk out there, a little yellow cerecite lantern for heat.”

  “You’re sure?”

  “Sure as anything. Haven’t had any guests out here in ages. You’ll need the rest more than me, after all. It’s you looking for the cerecite.” He took the dishes to a washbasin, humming as he worked.

  I got to my feet and shuffled to the bookshelf, grabbed a few tomes, and sat on my cot. My stiff muscles burned, and a dull headache pounded behind my eyes. The fire crackled as I got settled on the canvas frame.

  After I unlaced my boots, I settled down with the books. I read for a while until I couldn’t keep my eyes open any longer. As sleep took me, all I could see was the face of the prince, and the haunted look I’d seen on his face.

  Ivan sang a tune as I drifted off.

  When you look in the mirror,

  The only map you’ll see,

  Is of the tear trails,

  Running down your cheeks.

  Chapter 5

  I stood by Ivan overlooking Ithical City. I’d removed my sling, and nothing but a little soreness remained in my broken wrist. Wiggling my fingers, I rotated my hand.

  “Does the green cerecite always work so quickly?” I asked, gingerly pressing the tendons, feeling nothing but a bit of pressure.

  He smiled. “Usually does, yes.”

  “Nice. I could get used to a reality like this.”

  Brutus barked playfully, and Ivan patted the Mystik wolf’s head.

  “Stay here, Brutus,” Ivan said. “I won’t be taking you into the city today. We’ve got to get inside that bloody capital.” His gaze wandered out to the skyline. Glittering towers and elegant copper domes reflected the sun. Marble statues stood as tall as wind turbines, and waterfalls tumbled from hanging gardens. Glittering golden rails ran above the city atop Grecian-style pillars.

  “They have trains here?” I asked.

  “Yes. Think of this place like a time capsule. When the survivors built this world, they did it with nineteenth-century technology in mind, building trains and buggies. But with the aid of cerecite, their tech advanced quickly. That’s why you’ll see everything powered by it.”

  “What makes the rails shimmer like that?” I asked, pointing, as a train whistled in the distance.

  “Yellow cerecite. Works great as a power source. Don’t touch it, though. It’s poisonous if you ingest too much.” He chuckled.

  “What’s so funny?”

  He shook his head, and a smile creased his mouth. “Not long after I first arrived, I was waiting at a rail station. Saw a little girl, maybe four, trying to lick the rails. She said they looked like honey sweets. Her parents had to pull her away.” He hooked his thumbs in his belt loops. “You see a lot of things when you’re here as long as me.”

  “It’s an incredible world,” I marveled. “I don’t understand how this exists and our reality knows nothing about it.”

  “Vortech,” he answered. “They’re good at one thing, I’ll give them that. Keeping secrets is what they’re best it.”

  “But it’s also the trouble with communications, isn’t it?” I asked.

  He nodded. “We can’t send messages of more than a few sentences every now and then, and that’s a problem. The only way out of this place is to open a gateway, but you’ve seen what our side of the gate looks like.”

  “Yeah. It’s unrecognizable. How are we supposed to get out of here without a functioning gate?”

  “Never fear.” He patted Brutus’ head. “There’s more than one way to skin a cat. There’s a larger gateway on the north side of the island. Once you find the seven cerecite stones, it’ll be easy enough to power the gateway and get back to our reality.”

  A breeze rushed past as we stood under the cover of trees. The air didn’t hold the aroma of spruce as I would’ve imagined. Instead, a metallic scent got caught on the wind, tasting sharp on my tongue.

  “That’s odd,” I said.

  “Odd?” he asked.

  “The air,” I clarified. “It doesn’t smell right.”

  “Yes. You’ll have to get used to that. Being under a dome means the air gets filtered.” His gaze wandered to the sky, and I noticed a purplish tint to the blue, as if I looked at a screen rather than something organic.

  “Have the people ever tried to escape the dome?” I asked.

  “I’m sure some have. Never been successful. The thing is, the people live in Utopia, so there’s no motivation to leave.” He sighed, looking out toward the city. “We should go. The queen holds an audience at ten AM sharp, and she’s expecting me to introduce you. Follow me.” He waved over his shoulder, and I descended the hill beside him.

  I adjusted my n
ew bag’s straps, one Ivan had loaned me, with drawstrings instead of a zipper. The buckles on my new boots jangled as I walked. The supple leather rose to my knees, and I kept my knife tucked inside. Ivan had supplied me with new clothes, too. The pants fit comfortably, and the white shirt’s sleeves billowed, made from a light, airy fabric. I picked at the buckles on my vest where pockets covered the front and lined the inside.

  I may’ve looked the part of a commoner, but I’d have to brush up on my acting skills if I wanted to pass as one. Ivan had instructed me on how to pronounce my r’s and draw out my o’s, use the name da for dad or father, slight nuances that would aid in blending in. Thankfully, the Scottish brogue of yesteryear had been replaced with less of a distinct accent, and Ivan assured me not to worry about sounding out of place. Diverse dialects from each village were common enough, and I could always blame a slip of accent from being from a distant settlement.

  We made it out of the forest and took a road leading to the city. Vehicles sped past us, and I did my best not to stare at the chrome-plated machines with whirring engines, crawling along like caterpillars with rows of twenty glowing yellow wheels. Some were bulkier and moved slower, resembling beetles lumbering down the copper-paved street.

  When we entered the city, people bustled past us. Some cast wary glances at Ivan, who was less than inconspicuous with his furs and bone-handled machete. I walked casually, hoping to blend in, trying not to gawk as I passed through the lanes with Grecian-style and modern structures lining either side. Gold and glass gleamed. Art mixed with functionality.

  We approached a town square where vendors and food carts packed the space. The scent of cooked meat and pastries wafted, and my stomach growled. Ivan bought us a few platters of thinly sliced steak and grilled onions. He ate with his fingers, and I was too hungry to make a fuss, so I scooped the food and shoveled it in my mouth as I trailed behind him. The seasoned meat fell apart in my mouth, and tender onions added a savory flavor, nothing like MREs and protein bars.

  I raced to keep pace with Ivan. We marched down a broad road that led us to a bridge crossing a deep gorge. Glacier blue water rushed beneath us. Ahead of us rose the palace.