I swiftly returned to the crystal and ported back home, ignoring the tiredness that emerged.

Grant was at the porter's circle with Merryl and Calum, and I sat down next to him.

"No shards, but look what I found in an old cave." I handed him the three magazines.

Merryl leaned over to look as Grant took the aged paper. He frowned at the front page but opened it and leafed through it. His face reflected some of the same confusion I felt.

"Do you think it's real?" I asked. "Would any of the patriarchs know?" There wasn't much the patriarchs didn't know, at least not about our history or past traditions.

He remained silent as he skimmed each page, pausing occasionally to read something more in-depth. He met my gaze.

"It looks real enough to me. But I suspect most of the older folks would want to keep it quiet."

I furrowed my eyebrows. "What? Why?"

He met my gaze. "People are already panicking and in despair over our lack of food reserves. Can you imagine how they might react if we tell them their history was fake and that past human actions destroyed the world?"

His words made me pause as it summarized what I read in a fashion I hadn't quite processed yet. Wait— "What do you mean destroyed the world?" Hints had been there, but he sounded way too certain.

His eyes widened, and he opened his mouth, then closed it. Merryl and Calum gave him a confused look.

"Grant?" I asked as my confusion deepened.

After looking around to make sure no one else was nearby, he sighed heavily. "These aren't the first magazines people have found. Decades ago, when I was young, someone in a different village found a notebook in an old army base. It was quite clear that humankind's greatest weapons destroyed huge areas indiscriminately and left it too poisoned to live there."

I sat up straighter. I hadn't heard about this.

"Humans fought against one another with these weapons. Our distant ancestors were in the middle of an all-out war when the aliens arrived." Grant's eyes were distant.

"But—I thought we were fighting the aliens? Is that the same war?"

He shrugged. "The book didn't say."

I was stunned. "Why weren't we told about this?"

"Because it divided that village beyond the point of reconciliation with no benefit to anyone," he said wearily. "Fights broke out when some believed and others didn't. A few fell into listless despair. Some wanted to try and reconcile with the Saursunes, which led to a lot of fighting among the villagers. The village completely split, and everyone scattered among the other villages. None remained there."

Merryl tilted her head. "I never heard of this..."

"It was before you were born. The event had such a huge impact that most villages decided not to tell the younger generations about it. The only reason I know about it is because I came from that village."

My mind skipped ahead. "And those who believed, their stories were dismissed as tall tales, kind of like how everyone ignores Old Fred?"

When Grant nodded, my head spun. Saursunes hadn't destroyed our paradise. We did. And most dismissed the truth because we didn't want to believe it.

Had humans attacked the aliens when they showed up? If my ancestors had attacked their own bloodkin, it was very possible. The aliens would have fought back, then likely decided to rid the planet of the pests who had poisoned the land, only for us to keep appearing and raiding their fields and barns like a bunch of rats.

I hugged my knees against my chest and rested my forehead against them, feeling shame for something I had never done, and not understanding why those ancient humans had attacked each other.

I didn't like that this had been hidden from us, although I could kind of see why we hadn't been told the truth. Humans were the destroyers. Not the aliens, although they had certainly killed far more humans than I cared to count.

A thought struck me, and I lifted my head. "Why didn't the Saursunes destroy all of our crystals?"

Although now that I thought about it, there hadn't been a single mention of them in the magazines and our oldest history stories didn't include them.

His eyes met mine. "Because they're the ones that brought them. The Saursunes planted them in dozens of locations when they first arrived."

Every twist of this conversation was getting stranger and stranger. "Why?"

"The crystals helped charge their airships or something. The army tried destroying them before they realized some humans could use them to teleport." He shrugged. "All of the patriarchs know. So you can show them the magazines if you want, but I suspect they'll take them and you won't ever see those pages again. They'll be worried about it causing the same division that happened in Freeden Village."

The unspoken words were also clear: They wouldn't be happy if I told people what I'd learned since it could destroy the village by disrupting the delicate balance of peace and stability that had been built over the decades.

Merryl frowned, also understanding the hidden message. Calum sat silently, clearly troubled by what he'd heard. The truth left me feeling dazed. No wonder Grant had never mentioned the reason behind why his parents, my dad, and various others had left their village to join Vermilion.

The magazines sat heavily in my hands. These pages were proof of what I'd seen and learned. The truth was tantalizing, and part of me was firmly convinced everyone should know the truth simply because we'd been told lies.

But if Grant was correct—and he was rarely wrong—the truth had no benefit and could cause the village to split. Did I really want the magazines in my possession in case it caused my family and friends to fight? The images and words were branded into my mind. Even if I didn't have the magazines, I'd remember what they'd shown me.

"What do you suggest?" I quietly asked Grant.

"That's a hard question," he replied equally as softly. "I'm quite sure other villages have found things over the years, yet all of them turn a blind eye to it. There's never a murmur of such things at the Oasis." He was silent for a few moments. "As much as I don't like to say it, if you like the village the way it is, I recommend keeping this knowledge quiet since it isn't currently harming anyone. If the magazines are seen by the villagers, we'll likely be looking for a new village to take us in."

Even though I'd expected his words, they still hit hard. I'd seen it in the past; when a troublemaker disturbed the peace too many times, they'd been left at the Oasis to find a village to take them in. As a porter, I had more leeway than most since my skills were valuable, but something told me it wouldn't be enough with this sort of disruption.

I nodded slowly. Grant and my sister were more important to me than trying to correct a detail in the distant past. I wrapped the magazines in a rabbit hide.

"I don't feel like getting kicked out of the village. Like I keep saying, you two are stuck with me."

Merryl gave me a weak smile. Grant wrapped an arm across my shoulders for a quick hug, his expression still troubled.

Lifting my bundle, I said, "I'll give these to the patriarchs once I get changed and let them decide."

I got up, my mind still swirling in circles. The truth gnawed at me as I walked up the path. Why were secrets so hard to keep? With each step, I became more convinced that I couldn't hand over all three magazines.

Once in my room, I quickly got changed and hid two magazines under my storage chest. I wrapped one in a rabbit hide and went in search of a patriarch.

The "patriarchs" were a group of five people from the biggest families in the village, currently all men since Yara had declined the role when Elma passed away. They weren't the oldest individuals in the village, although they were up there in age and had the experience that came with their years, and as such, often had a lot of say in the village's decisions. They primarily served as peacekeepers in the village and were our main history teachers. Perhaps one of them might tell me more.

The only patriarch I could see was Barrett, who was by the cooking area. I had never particularly liked him, so I craned my neck, trying to spot Orson, or at the very least, any of the others. After wandering to the end of the village and back without spotting them, I returned to the cooking area.

Barrett wasn't exactly my first choice, but I approached him anyway. "Would you mind looking at something I found?"

The slightly chubby man turned my way, and his faint frown disappeared when he realized the person bothering him was a porter. "Ah, Natalie. What did you find?"

After what I'd just learned, the sudden change in expression didn't sit well with me, but I handed over the rabbit hide anyway. When he unwrapped it, his eyes widened in horror like something had come back to haunt him.

His face smoothed over as he turned a few pages, which crackled and snapped under the rough treatment. "It looks like a hoax. They used to print stuff like this around Halloween to scare people. I'll read it to be sure. Don't tell others since it will undoubtedly cause panic."

I kept a straight face as he shuffled away without a parting comment. A Halloween joke? Nothing in those magazines hinted at the holiday where children had—supposedly—dressed up to show which career they wanted to pursue while adults wore costumes to represent the challenges they'd face and handed out food if they solved the riddles. The stories written in the magazine were not challenges for kids.

Scratching my head, I looked around. Villagers were visiting, relaxing, and passing the time with small tasks like they usually did. Liam sat on the top ledge, which gave me another idea. I seriously hoped it wouldn't backfire on me.

Since he was watching me, I nodded at him and headed for the path. I stopped just long enough to grab the other two magazines and wrap them in a hand towel. Just in case the patriarch was watching, I kept my footsteps slow and tired as I meandered up to the top level. It wouldn't be the first time I'd wiped down my arms and legs while sitting in the sun.

"What did you give Barrett?" Liam asked.

"I found an old magazine."

He raised an eyebrow at me, then glanced down into the village. "Well, he threw it into a cooking fire a minute ago."

I cast a scowl at the man who was hastily walking over to another patriarch, who had just come out of his room. "I should have waited until I found Orson. Or gathered several together."

"Hindsight is always full of lessons. You might want to back up so they can't see you."

Liam's advice seemed prudent, and I retreated into one of the caves. He sat on a rock near the entrance, also out of sight of those below. After a quick glance around to ensure no one could see us, I passed him the magazines.

"He doesn't know I have these."

Hunters like Liam were trustworthy and responsible enough to not cause a panic or get me in trouble. As he carefully opened the brittle pages, I told him about what I'd read and what Grant had told me.

I blinked and regarded his expression. "You don't seem overly surprised..."

"Old Fred's stories seemed a bit too real, and some parents tried to hush him when their kids were around. I've wondered for years if there was some truth behind it."

"Can you hide those in your room? Barrett might check my room under the guise of helping wash my bedding or something."

Without replying, Liam stepped inside the cave and reached for a stone above the door. With a bit of wiggling, he pried it loose and placed the magazines in the small gap behind it before placing the stone back in place.

"I didn't know that was there!" I whispered, gawking.

"Only a couple do. Most don't think to look in the shadows. I'll read them later."

I took the hint. "It'll look strange if I'm up here too long." I used my water skin to dampen the rag and moved to a more visible location of the ledge to scrub the dust off my arms and legs. "Did anything happen while I was gone?"

"Various groups were pinned. Most of the hunters and gatherers were unharmed. Any porter that got caught was so tired they could barely take their group back."

"Most? Did some get caught raiding?"

"Three groups from two villages. Only the porters escaped."

I paused and stared at him. "Three groups? Why are they still raiding when the losses are so heavy lately?"

He met my gaze, letting me see the sadness present. "They're starving. Over a dozen villages have raided for so long that they can no longer identify most of the edible plants. One village lost so many people that they had to split up and join other villages."

I was silent for some time and scrubbed my feet as I tried to organize my thoughts. "It feels like we're going to reach a tipping point before much longer."

"If our village is desperate enough to send twenty-four people with a single porter, imagine what is happening in other villages."

I didn't like the conclusion I was coming to. And no one had enough food that they could afford to support other villages.

My time was up. If I stayed up here any longer, it would be unusual. With a sigh, I got up.

"Thanks." I wasn't sure what I was thanking him for. Was it the information, the insight, or just lending a listening ear? Regardless of the reason, I was grateful for the hunter's friendship.

He nodded and reclined on the rock, still out of sight of those below. I strolled down the path and set the washcloth on a rock, although I hadn't gone far before an elderly woman claimed it and hobbled toward the basin to wash it. At the bottom of the path, the same patriarch met me.

"I'm certain the magazine was a hoax, but I've sent it to Oasis Springs just in case. They'll let us know if anything in it matches the history books."

It took all my control to pretend I didn't know the truth. Did he really think any of the porters had enough energy left to make a last-second trip just because I'd found old papers? If anyone had been sent, it probably would have been me. Still, to keep my cover, I said, "Thanks."

Seemingly satisfied, he turned and wandered away. I watched him go. Why had he lied? Why not take me aside and tell me the truth and the reason for keeping it quiet like Grant had? The abuse of trust stung like a thorn jabbing through my skin.

I returned to the porter's circle and sat down in the untenanted ring of stones, gazing at the translucent crystal. Now I knew the crystals—at least the original ones—had an alien origin, yet they were something we depended on for survival. It seemed so bizarre.

Grant sat beside me. "How did it go?"

I snorted faintly. "He says he sent it to Oasis Springs. But apparently the shortcut there is through the cooking fires."

We sat silently together, lost in our thoughts. My feelings were all jumbled together. Part of our history was lies, but it felt oddly...anticlimactic. It didn't change the fact that the villages were forced to hide in the desert, nor that countless humans had been killed.

The recent changes with the Saursunes affected us and were more pressing. And what if they returned to their previous behaviors?