I collapsed on my knees, the red dust abrasive on my skin. Cynthia put a hand on my shoulder. She looked not much older than me, but she still had the wisdom and experience of a Champion. "I'm sorry you had to see that, Dawn," she said, her voice gentle. "What Cyrus did was wrong."

I looked up at her; her silver eyes seemed to glow. "But...?"

Cynthia's gaze was harder than diamonds, more luminous than pearls. "There is no 'but'. Cyrus is – or was – human like the rest of us, and all humans are prone to mistakes. He must have had some good in him to defend Magikarp from those bullies. That doesn't excuse how he treated his own Pokémon."

I hugged Piplup so tightly, he squawked in protest. I'll never be cruel to my Pokémon. I love them to the ends of all the realms, to the core of the Distortion World.

Cynthia stood up and offered her hand to me. "Are you ready to keep going? We may be reaching the Distortion World's core."

Past a grove of dead trees, a waterfall cascaded upward. You'd think the Distortion World's core would be down—deeper and deeper, following a gravity that doesn't follow the same rules in this strange world—but anything was possible here, and nothing needed to make sense.

Cynthia and I looked at each other. "Have faith," I said.

"In us," Cynthia replied.

"And in Pokémon."

Cynthia sent out a majestic Milotic that rivaled Wallace's. She and Gible sat comfortably on the serpentine Pokémon. Milotic was the stronger swimmer, so Piplup and I struggled below at first. Then up became down, and Piplup and I zoomed past Milotic. Cynthia's pale eyebrows shot up; Gible gawked at us.

On our new red island, Cynthia returned Milotic to her Poké Ball. "Good work, Milotic. Rest in beauty."

The waterfall we'd descended – ascended at the beginning – fell from a pool that looked upside-down from where we were. "Does that make sense to you, Cynthia?"

Cynthia followed my gaze and smiled. "Does anything make sense in the Distortion World?"

"Not at all. In a way, that means everything makes sense here."

As I said this, a mirage of a Pokémon darted past us. I recognized Mesprit, the Guardian of Truth. She hovered over a flat, blue stone and materialized into a more solid form. Three blurry gray orbs of varying sizes swirled around her. Piplup touched the smaller one. The middle sized one became white, while the biggest one turned dark.

Gible touched the dark blur. It became gray while the two smaller ones both turned black. Cynthia's mouth curled into a delighted smile. "It's a riddle."

I looked at her and then back at the orbs. "How can we solve it?"

Cynthia took a step back, her silver eyes narrowed as she scrutinized the three swirling orbs. "We'll start by giving the orbs names. The one that Piplup touched will be Chimchar, while Gible's will be Infernape."

"Because of their sizes," I guessed. "That leaves the middle one Monferno." I was following along now. "Chimchar says Monferno is light and Infernape is dark. Infernape says Chimchar and Monferno are dark. What does that mean?"

"What do you think, Dawn?"

"I think," I began, staring into Mesprit's eyes, seeing the thread of our connection, "this is a riddle of truth. There is only one truth—Monferno can't be both light and dark. Either Chimchar or Infernape is lying."

Cynthia nodded. "There's only one way to know."

We both reached for the middle-sized orb. As soon as we touched it, the other two orbs darkened.

My friend brimmed with excitement as we reached the riddle's answer. "Chimchar and Monferno are lying. Infernape tells the truth—and as you said, Dawn, there is only one truth."

Mesprit nodded. We descended – were we descending? – deeper into the Distortion World, closer to the core.

Piplup and I gawked at Cynthia. "How did you know?"

"Think about it. Chimchar couldn't be telling the truth, because that would be a paradox with what Monferno says. Monferno also couldn't be telling the truth, because that would align with what Chimchar says—and Monferno called Chimchar a liar. Only Infernape tells the truth."

I wondered if anyone else in our group could have solved that riddle.

Azelf's trial was far simpler. She circled a hole in the island and disappeared into it. We peered down. Only oblivion awaited us.

"There has to be another way," Cynthia said, glancing around. But there were no other islands. It was us and the hole. I leaped through.

I tugged my dress down as I tumbled through the void. My dark pink boots landed on solid red ground with a puff of dust.

A second later, Gible rolled through the void and tackled Piplup. Right away, the two started fighting. I wanted to pull them away from each other, but concern for Cynthia gripped me. What if she didn't follow us? Could she really find another way?

She's as brave as she is smart. A few seconds later, Cynthia materialized next to me, her platform combat boots surprisingly light when she landed, her short silver skirt fluttering over her leggings. She scooped up her Pokémon, stopping the tussle. "Gible, be nice." To me, she added, "Did I keep you waiting?"

"Not long," I assured her. "Uxie's challenge will probably be harder."

"Or maybe only Mesprit and Azelf had trials for us," Cynthia suggested. I followed her gaze to a murky shadow ahead. Ace, Riley, and Lucario had already arrived, and they were investigating the shadow.

Piplup cried in delight. He hopped off the island. Small bursts of red appeared beneath his feet, allowing him to make his way to our friends. I followed, my toes always finding land even in the void. "Where's everyone else?"

Riley explained, "Lucario, Cheryl, and I met up with Ace, Aaron, and Conway earlier, but then we got split up. Lucario guarded me and Ace when Uxie tested us. I trust that Aaron and his Heracross will protect Cheryl if they must face a similar trial. And Conway seems smart enough to solve Mesprit's riddle."

So Uxie and Mesprit had tested Riley and Ace; did that mean each group got two lake guardians as guides through the Distortion World? What about Kenny—was he alone?

I looked back at the shadow. "So what's—"

I broke off with a horrified scream.