Chapter 7

After having a cursory look around, Diantha had found herself a spot on the ground that seemed mostly devoid of shattered remains and had firmly planted herself there. It was interesting (and genuinely disturbing), but it didn't take her long to realise that without even knowing what she was supposed to be looking for, she wasn't bringing much to the table on this little excursion. She'd had a vague but comprehensive historical education, because of course her parents had spared no expense on her private tutors growing up, but as far as she could recall her teachers had never really delved much further back than the last hundred years (give or take a few). So instead, she stood and she watched and she picked up as much as she could from the snippets of conversation between her two companions.

Only Martin stood beside her by the mouth of the cave, shifting his weight from foot to foot and peering around nervously. She accidentally caught his eye and he smiled awkwardly at her. A number of times he'd tried to strike up a conversation with her, and she'd shut down that conversation just as many times. If he made one more unsubtle reference to his lack of romantic entanglements she wouldn't be held responsible for her actions.

"Steven," said Cynthia. She was crouched over about ten feet away, spotlight trained firmly on the floor. She pushed debris to the side (something Diantha chose to believe was stray gravel) and then, fingernails digging into the dirt, pulled something up.

"Hmm?"

"Catch."

She tossed a jagged looking stone towards him and he caught it with one hand. It only took a few seconds of turning it between his fingers before his face lit up. "An Anorith fossil!" He brought it closer to his face, that somehow was now smeared with dirt. "A viable one too I think."

This had been the second fossil they'd found since they'd arrived a couple of hours ago. Time sure moved slowly when you weren't having fun.

"Doesn't seem like Stone's scientists looked very hard," said Cynthia absently. She brushed her fingers against the cave wall. "Or they found as much as they needed and left everything else here." A beat. "Or there's more than one cave."

Diantha watched as Cynthia bent over again and picked up a short, thin bone from the ground. She frowned. Unlike Steven's more methodical cataloguing of what they'd discovered so far, Cynthia's exploration seemed a bit more haphazard.

"You seem confused," said Diantha, more than anything just to remind them both that she was still there. She wasn't used to being ignored. Not anymore at least.

"I am confused."

"Why?"

Cynthia hesitated. "I'm not sure yet."

"Maybe we should go back to cars the then," said Martin, quick to jump on any excuse to leave - as he had already been doing for the last few hours. "You can ask Richard yourself. I'm sure he'll have the answers you're looking for." He shot Diantha a quick smile, as though they were somehow both in on the same cunning scheme to speed this detour along. She looked down at her nails.

"We'll go soon," said Steven. He was still twisting the fossil between his fingers with a look of utmost rapture on his face. "I think some of the original claw might be preserved in here." He seemed to weigh it in his hand and then nodded to himself.

"So it's just me who thinks we shouldn't be out here then?" said Martin. He received no response. "Right."

A distant rumble of thunder made her jump. Thankfully, nobody noticed over the rather undignified yelp that came from the man next to her.

"I really think it's time for us to go!" he said, his voice high and strangled.

Steven let out a bone-weary sigh and a look of longing crossed his face. "All right," he said, pocketing his new beloved fossil. Whether it was a sense of obligation or pity that made him agree, Diantha couldn't be sure.

At finally getting the response he wanted, Martin all but sagged with relief.

Cynthia turned her head. She had picked up another, smaller bone up off the floor and was staring at it intently. Diantha wasn't sure what she was hoping to find. "I'm not coming with you. There's something here that I'm missing."

"Fine," said Martin, as though he somehow imagined she was talking to him. He turned back to Steven with an urgent look on his face. "Please can we go now."

Reluctantly, Steven nodded. "Are you sure you want to stay here, Cynthia? The wind's picking up. Might be a storm coming."

"I'm sure," said Cynthia. She waved a hand above her head, engrossed in whatever it was she was looking for. It seemed as though she'd found something that had caught her attention at least, because she seemed to be fixated on the same spot. "It's sheltered in here at least. I'll wait it out if I need to. Or you can come back and pick me up later."

Wind whistled past the mouth the cave and trees rustled. Diantha became suddenly aware of how much darker it had become since they'd arrived.

"I'll go with the second one," Steven agreed. "I doubt this cave would make for a very comfortable place to sleep." He turned to Diantha then. "Are you coming or staying?"

Her instinct was, naturally, to get the hell out of there as fast as she could. Not that this ancient Pokemon burial ground wasn't delightful.

"Of course she's coming," said Martin. He was already moving towards the cave's entrance, chin held high, but trembling. She felt a surge of irritation.

"I'm going to stay," she said, regretting it almost as soon as the words left her mouth. Unlike the rest of their conversation, this actually seemed to get Cynthia's attention. She looked up and offered Diantha a curious smile.

"All right," said Steven. He seemed relieved, and Diantha couldn't blame him. Though it wasn't her primary motivation, she didn't relish the idea of leaving someone out here alone. Not that she considered herself much of an asset without her Pokemon by her side. Still, there were safety in numbers she supposed.

"You can't be serious," Martin blustered. Quietly, though, perhaps knowing that his words were likely to have little to no effect. "We can't let the face of Kalos stay out here alone."

Diantha ignored him and begrudgingly pushed some debris to the side with her foot so she could move closer to Cynthia. She had, unfortunately, made up her mind. She was staying.

"We're not letting anyone do anything," said Steven, sounding faintly embarrassed by the implication. "She's a grown woman and she can do whatever she wants."

Martin looked like he wanted to protest again, but a sharp look from Diantha silenced him. She wondered if he knew that her main reason for staying behind was so that she didn't have to look at his face for a moment longer. Probably not.

"You know where to reach me if you need me," said Cynthia, presumably to Steven. Whether she'd paid any attention at all to the conversation around her was unclear.

"Same," said Steven. He patted his shorts pockets then, to make sure none of the rocks he'd stuffed in there had fallen out, Diantha imagined. "Stay safe."

"You too," said Diantha. Cynthia mumbled in agreement.

Steven lingered in the cave entrance for a few moments longer, like something was holding him there. Then he sighed, again, and allowed Martin to lead him back into the jungle. Diantha watched them disappear into the trees.

"What on Earth do you think you're doing, young man?"

It was a tone he'd been on the receiving end of multiple times in his life. Don't do that, Steven. That isn't appropriate, Steven. Wash your face because we have some important investors coming over, Steven. It wasn't, however, a tone he'd ever heard from his uncle before. As a child, he'd often thought of his father and his brother as diametric opposites. While his father was rigid and traditional, his uncle was a free spirit who had point blank refused to allow himself to be chained to an office job. It wasn't uncommon for a young Steven to sit in his bedroom and ponder what his life would have been like if he'd been born to Richard Stone rather than Joseph Stone. He imagined he'd spend a lot more time adventuring and a lot less time putting on his best suit and shaking hands with men and women he had no desire to even be in the same room with, let alone talk to.

It wasn't until he was older that he realised that Fun Uncle Richard was also Frivolous and Irresponsible and A-Little-Bit-Selfish Uncle Richard. Perhaps that was why it was so jarring to hear the man suddenly adopt the stern role of authority. Even though the attempt fell something short of the mark, he could suddenly hear the similarities between his father and his uncle, and it made him feel very small. Perhaps his uncle's methods of exerting control were more subtle, but Steven recognised it all the same.

"Hello, Uncle," said Steven. He glanced back to make sure Martin was still with him. He'd already had to slow his pace a number of times so the poor man didn't fall behind. "I'm walking back to the car now. I assume it's where we left it still?"

The phone crackled with static and he moved it further away from his ear. "Yes, it's still where you left it," said his uncle. "What where you thinking wandering off like that!"

"We were assured that the park was perfectly safe for human visitors," Steven pointed out, knowing it was something of a flimsy excuse.

"That is hardly the issue here!"

"Well, you wanted my opinion," said Steven. "Our opinions, rather?"

He'd been thinking about it since he'd arrived on this little island. Why his uncle had gathered together such a strange group of people, that was. His own presence he understood. He was family, and a well-known and respected family member at that. Cynthia and her grandmother, at a push, he could justify. With Cynthia's interest and experience with mythology that pre-dated the human race she could conceivably share some insight that had been overlooked by the hired scientists, and Carolina had extensive experience in the preservation of old artifacts and Pokemon remains. Diantha though, that had been a tricky one to work out. Now, he was sure he had the answer, and with it he'd finally understood why they'd all been brought here.

"Yes-"

"Then you need to allow us access to the whole island," said Steven. He did his best to sound firm, though he wasn't sure how effective it was. "You didn't think any of us were going to agree to publicly endorse your park before we'd seen the whole thing, did you?"

The silence on the other end of the line told him he'd hit the nail on the head. Even though he expected it, he still felt a faint pang of disappointment. He supposed it was too much to hope for that his father and uncle would have wanted his input for any reason other than free publicity further down the line from three of the best Pokemon trainers in the world. He briefly wondered if Diantha had realised the real reason for their presence here yet. It was hard to tell what was going on behind the perpetual polite mask.

Then, begrudgingly, "We can talk about it when you get back to base camp."

"Of course, Uncle. I think Martin and I are about an hour away from the cars."

Beside him, Martin made a strangled noise of distress. Though his complaining had mostly centred around them not doing what they'd been told, Steven could tell the man was struggling with the harsh environment, and the fat raindrops that had started falling five minutes ago weren't helping matters. He tried to assuage his guilt over bringing him along by telling himself that it had been Martin's choice to follow them. An invitation certainly hadn't been extended to him. Still, Steven couldn't help but feel a level of responsibility for the man. If Wallace had been there, he'd have laughed and said it was Steven's overactive guilt complex playing up again.

Maybe after he was off the phone from his uncle he could give Wallace a quick call. He'd probably get a real kick out of this bizarre tale.

"Just you and Martin?" said Richard after another pause.

"Cynthia and Diantha are still in the cave."

In the background, Steven very distinctly heard Pokemon Ranger Peck say, "I did warn you something like this would happen."

"All right, Steven," said Richard, and from the resignation in his tone it was clear he wasn't happy. "Just get back to the car as quickly as you can. There's a storm edging closer to the island than we'd like. The last boats have already left so we'll need to bunker down for the night."

Steven glanced up at the canopy, where infrequent but heavy raindrops were already hitting the leaves with enough force to create quiet thunking sounds. Edging closer, he thought, might be something of an understatement.

Dark shadows stretched into the cave and Diantha moved further inside to avoid the rain that was blowing in from outside. She eyed the swaying tree line. There was no way they were getting back now with only Cynthia's little torch to guide their way through the jungle. She felt a prickle of irritation with herself; why hadn't she gone back with Steven and that awful lawyer while she had the chance? She turned back to her lone companion, who had barely spoken a word to her since the men had left, and raised an eyebrow.

"What are you doing?"

"Trying to make a table," said Cynthia. She had wrapped her arms around a rather lumpy looking boulder and seemed to be doing her best to roll it away from the wall. Though it was dark, Diantha could see sweat beading at her forehead with the effort. It moved, and beneath it something snapped. "Ooops. Sorry about that, Mr Pokemon." She huffed and pulled it again. It moved another fraction closer to the middle of the cave. "You know, this would be a lot easier if I had Garchomp with me. I feel like I'm missing a limb."

"Given that this park is starting to look more and more like an elaborate prank, I'm not really sure why we couldn't bring our Pokemon in the first place," said Diantha.

"Oh, I don't think it's a prank," said Cynthia. Maybe it was a trick of the light, but her expression seemed to darken. She pulled at the rock again and then almost stumbled backwards as she lost her grip. "Oof."

"Would you like a hand with that?" said Diantha, hoping against hope that the answer would be no. Defying all sense and logic, she'd somehow managed to keep her entirely white outfit clean so far.

"No," said Cynthia. She eyed the boulder critically. "This is probably fine." It didn't look fine. The flattest part seemed to be facing the wall still, and on top rocky bumps jutted out at seemingly random angles. "Water would normally have smoothed this out, but this cave seems strangely weather resistant. There's hardly any decay on these bones…"

"Is that abnormal?"

"Everything about this place is abnormal. Can't you feel it?"

She cast her mind back to their arrival, and God had that only been earlier that day? It was beginning to feel like she'd never even existed outside of this island. Still, the pervasive feeling of nothing being quite right was there, lingering. As much as she'd rather not admit it, she'd been feeling unsettled since they touched down. It even smelled wrong somehow. Cloying and stale. She'd chalked it up to them being surrounded by jungle, which at the best of times gave off the unpleasant aroma of rotting vegetation. This was not the best of times.

"Maybe," she admitted. "Does that mean something to you?" Where she came from, 'I have a bad feeling about this' didn't really amount to much. Perhaps the Sinnoh region were a more superstitious lot than the people of Kalos.

"It didn't when we first got here, but I've learned not to ignore my instincts."

The cave flashed with light and Diantha's head jerked around just fast enough to catch the tail end of forked lightning striking somewhere into the jungle. The rain was splashing down fast and heavy now. She shivered.

"Didn't see that coming when we left this morning," said Cynthia, also eyeing the storm. She moved away from the boulder and peered out into the gloom. "My coat doesn't look quite so ridiculous now at least."

She couldn't help herself; Diantha snorted out a laugh. If her mother had been around to hear the ungainly sound, she'd have been beside herself. "Unless it's waterproof and you have a hood hidden somewhere, I'm afraid it does."

As soon as she said it, she regretted it. She opened her suddenly dry mouth to apologise, but Cynthia beat her to it.

"I could have a hood in here," she said, completely unconcerned by the disrespect flung her way, it seemed. The knot in Diantha's stomach loosened. "You don't know."

"Do you?"

Cynthia shot her a wry grin. "No."

Thunder rolled across the sky and Cynthia's smile dropped completely.

"Can you hold this?"

She passed Diantha the torch without waiting for an answer and then pointed to the lumpy bolder. Diantha did as she was told and directed the thin beam of light there.

"What are you doing?"

"Being stupidly mistaken about something I hope," said Cynthia.

A sarcastic remark about that clearing things right up was on the tip of Diantha's tongue, but something about the other woman's expression held her back. It didn't feel like the right time.

With what looked like trembling hands, Cynthia reached into the side pocket of her coat and pulled out several thin, greying bones. The ones she'd been looking at earlier, Diantha noted. She grimaced and tightened her grip around the torch. Old as they may be, it felt wrong for them to be disturbing these old Pokemon bones. Disrespectful, even, for Cynthia to be carrying them around in her pocket like they were some cheap trinkets she was taking home as a souvenir. She very much doubted the woman had any actual archaeological training.

Rather than comment on that, she said, "That's a lot of bones."

"Twenty-seven of them," said Cynthia, as though that was somehow a significant number. "All in the same place, so you'd have to assume it's from the same limb, wouldn't you?"

She spoke quietly, like she was talking to herself, so Diantha didn't respond. She watched as Cynthia carefully deposited the collection of bones on top of the boulder and began to arrange them the way she wanted. She worked in silence for a minute or two, and then looked back up at Diantha. In the quickly dimming light of the cave, her face seemed pale and drawn.

"What do you think happened here?" she asked.

Diantha blinked. Honestly, she hadn't thought about it. She probably should have, considering she'd willingly hopped out of the safety of their vehicles and followed two relative strangers out into the jungle to nothing short of a Pokemon tomb. "On the island?" she asked.

"In this cave," Cynthia clarified. "Did someone move these bones here or did they fall here?"

Fall here. "You think this was the site of some kind of battle?" Diantha glanced around at the walls where fossils had petrified and become part of the structure. It definitely felt ominous, but the cave seemed a bit small for a wide-scale skirmish.

"Or they were hiding from something."

"That's…a bit dramatic, don't you think?" said Diantha nervously. She shuffled her feet and flinched at the feel of shattered Pokemon remains beneath them.

Cynthia shrugged her shoulders. "They all got here somehow. All crammed into this one space. It's just strange, don't you think?" As she spoke, she kept working, and Diantha forced herself to look away from the shape taking place on the boulder. "I looked for other spots where there might be burial sites or fossils on the walk up here. Didn't see anything though. You'd think if there were truly this many Pokemon on this island that they'd have been spread out more." She paused. "But no. They're all here. In this single cave."

"Well what do you think happened then?" Her voice came out louder than she'd meant, and she flinched as it echoed around them.

"I think," said Cynthia, "that we're missing something. Something that Dr. Stone's scientists missed too. Somehow. I suppose they were only looking for one thing though. A one-track mind, like their boss. And there's not much you can do with these old bones." The hairs on Diantha's arms prickled. She blamed it on the chill being brought in with the wind. "Unless I'm wrong about this whole thing, which has been known to happen."

With her free hand, Diantha reached up to her chest and gripped at the Keystone that hung around her neck. Not for the first time since they'd left the Visitor's Centre, Diantha wished she'd fought harder to keep her Pokemon with her for this trip. Leaving them behind seemed like the sensible thing to do at the time, and it had seemed so important to Dr. Stone. Now she just hoped that ill-informed decision didn't come back to haunt them.

"Diantha."

Her eyes snapped back to Cynthia.

"The torch," she said.

Diantha felt her cheeks flush red with embarrassment. Lost in her thoughts, she'd allowed her hand to drift downwards. "Sorry," she said, pointing the light back at the boulder.

Her breath caught in her throat.

"That's-"

She stopped. Shook her head.

"No. That's not-"

Cynthia looked up at her, and now Diantha finally recognised the look on her face for what it was.

Fear.

"They're not Pokemon bones."

"No, they aren't," said Cynthia.

"This isn't just a Pokemon burial ground."

They were discoloured and jagged around the edges, but there was no mistaking the human hand laid out across the boulder.

Cynthia stood abruptly, and Diantha startled at the action.

"We need to get the hell off this island."