The Lost Heir

by Allison Whitmore

  “Well, we'll have to stop at my house then, won't we?” Cast declared.

  Perhaps Mimi was wrong about these two. Not only had they just helped fight off those thugs, but now Cast was doing even more to show his loyalty. Mimi was just a child after all, and maybe she didn't know exactly what she was seeing. Key and Cast had saved their lives, and that meant she could trust them, didn't it?

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Wish Valley

  When they emerged from the other side of the tunnel, Isabella's mouth fell open. A valley. For some reason, she’d expected a desolate expanse of rock. But this was nearly paradise. From the top of the gondola pier, her eyes drank in green grass and blue skies. Small cottages dotted the slopes of the valley's shallow basin, nestled between leafy trees. Two roads crossed in the middle at the center of everything. And the air—she could smell it immediately, sweet and cool. It made her shiver a little, but the excitement was overbearing. “This is awesome.”

  “We'll be just a moment,” Key said as he and Cast wound their way down the pier to rap on a door that read Disaster. A man with a handlebar mustache, blue blazer, and tie emerged from a small room cut into the wall beside the pier. Seth and Isabella hung back behind their two companions as they reported the incident to the man.

  “I've posted the news to the Network,” the mustached man said after he disappeared inside and then returned again. “And I've sent our rescue men out to hunt. The Shadows will take care of the rest.”

  “Thank you,” Key said, tipping his hat.

  Isabella leaned in toward Seth. “How come their clothes are so perfect?” she asked.

  “Yeah. How did they keep those hats on?”

  “I can't believe that guy took my cypher.”

  “Your what?”

  “It's nothing,” she said quickly, forgetting she hadn't told Seth about her foray into kleptomania.

  “Come along, children,” said Cast. “Time to get moving. We'll take the main road on foot.”

  “After you,” said Seth with a mock bow. Isabella laughed. Despite everything that had happened that day, she felt a new sense of hope growing inside her. Maybe they were on their way to finding their families and restoring the Fire.

  About halfway to the valley crossroads, Key and Cast stopped and turned down a narrow dirt road that had not been visible from the pier. “You sky-side folks rarely come this deep into the Society. That is, of course, unless you want something, which you do.”

  “Well, we do need to find our friends and family,” Isabella pressed.

  “Naturally.”

  They came to a red cottage with a black roof; its silver chimney seemed to pump some of that cool, sweet air out into the mist. From the eaves hung wooden stars and twinkling lights; they reminded Isabella of an elf house from a movie she'd once seen.

  “Let's get you some dry clothes.”

  “Then we can do this wish stuff, right?” asked Seth.

  “I'll explain all of that when we're inside. Key will meet us back here in thirty minutes for the festival.”

  Key waved goodbye and moved down the road that curved away around a vast tree.

  “We have to prepare for the Lighting that is happening soon.”

  Isabella had more pressing issues on her mind but didn't want to appear ungrateful in any way, so she kept her mouth shut for the moment.

  “Oh yes! My gray garries. Mustn't forget,” Cast muttered to himself before disappearing into the back behind Key.

  “What are garries?” Seth asked.

  Isabella shrugged. “Maybe they're his pet snakes.”

  “He does seem like a snake guy, doesn't he?”

  Cast returned wearing a charcoal-gray tunic and dark-green vestment. “Yes,” he said. “We need candles.” He puttered around the house, opening and closing drawers. “Candles, scattered from here to there.” It was taking him quite a while to rifle through his belongings. “Ah, yes. There we are. Now for the holders, two crowns, and oh, the cloaks of white for the debuts.”

  “I've seen these outfits before,” Isabella said without thinking.

  “Our clothes are almost dry now. We're fine,” Seth said, looking like he'd just gotten a whiff of some rancid meat.

  “Nonsense. The ceremony is sacred. You must dress appropriately,” said Cast, before turning to Isabella. “You're going to say these cloaks harken back to the sky-sider's Swedish celebration of Santa Lucia, weren't you, dear? Yes. Yes. That takes place on December thirteenth. But this is different. You shall see.”

  That wasn't what Isabella was going to say, though the assumption caused her heart to sting a bit, thinking that Cleo probably would've known about Santa Lucia. She was going to say she'd seen a picture of it in one of the books at Theophilus' shop. Cast bustled them off to change into some strange white gowns.

  Seth took the bedroom. Isabella closed herself up in Cast's very tiny bathroom. She did not understand how such a large man could get himself tidy in such small quarters. She looked in the mirror and found her skin looking fresh and rested, just like it had in the room between the hotel and the Underground. Her fresh appearance was the complete opposite of what she felt. Her hair still looked a lot tamer than it would, sky-side. Perhaps it was the humidity from being below. She put on the white gown, which was thick and a bit itchy, tied it shut with its funny green-and-gold rope at the center, and returned to Cast's living room.

  “Now, young lady. Take this.” He handed her an intricately designed wooden box with levers on either side of it. She popped it open to find a black ball at its center. “Ah, ah. Keep it closed until the ceremony.” He snapped it shut.

  “Do I get one, too?” asked Seth, emerging from the bedroom. Isabella's laughter bubbled up and boiled over at the sight of him.

  “Where's your halo, Jimmy Stewart?”

  “He wasn't the angel in that movie!” Seth exclaimed, red-faced.

  Isabella tried to push down her laughter, but it wasn’t easy. “Well, you look like their love child or something.”

  “That's just wrong, Iz.”

  “Sorry, but you look funny.”

  “You're wearing the same thing!”

  “I know, but I'm not a six-foot whatever, seventeen-year-old dude. Makes a difference.”

  “Shut up, Isabella.” He laughed at himself briefly, which was something she hadn't ever seen him do before.

  “Now, young man,” Cast said and then paused as he rummaged through an old trunk. He pulled out a long rope tied into a loop. “Take this.”

  “That looks like a lasso. I want a cool boxy thing like hers.”

  “Now, now. Just as certain people are meant to come together, the object and the man are oftentimes as such.”

  Seth looked at him like he'd grown four heads. “I'm meant to come together with a rope? I don't think I like the sound of that.”

  “I shall show you soon enough. Now, don't forget your crowns.” The kids sighed. “You can put those on before we leave, but first, let's have some sugar-cream tea.”

  ***

  Once his teacup was empty, Cast motioned them to get ready for the event. After securing their crowns on their heads, Isabella had another laugh at Seth's unusual appearance, and then Cast gave them two dark-green cloaks to keep the night air from chilling their bones.

  “The items I gave you earlier will be used to test you at the ceremony. Only then can you make your wishes,” Cast explained.

  “So, the only time you can make these kinds of wishes is at this lighting ceremony?” asked Isabella.

  “No, no.” He laughed, putting on a similar green cloak and then fastening the pin on his lapel. “You can wish at any time. This is Wish Valley, after all. But you would have to seek out a wish-weaver on your own, if not during the solstice. They will all be at the ceremony tonight, and therefore the power of your wishes will be magnified significantly.”

  Key arrived promptly at seven-thirty, and they set off into the dark.

  “Every empath h
onors their ancestors at the solstice and wishes for good tidings for the New Year. But us Greens of the Valley choose to pay homage to our earthly savior as well,” said Key as they continued down the dark, dank path with only the flicker of their candles providing any light.

  Isabella's heartbeat quickened. “Who is? And why do you call him your savior?” She was having a difficult time deciding who to believe—these two strange guys or Mimi, who had seemed so sure of what she was telling Isabella.

  “He is the one who knows the way.”

  “What do you mean? The way to what?”

  “I cannot say,” said Key.

  “They can never say,” muttered Seth.

  Isabella chose to ignore his comment. “Will Jack be there tonight?”

  “Only those who are like us will stay for the duration of the solstice and Wintertide.”

  The quiet of the night spread before them; only the crunching of leaves beneath their feet interrupted the silence.

  Seth poked her as she looked over at him. “You okay, Iz?”

  “Yeah.”

  They arrived at a clearing that was encircled with tall stones. “Looks like Stonehenge,” Isabella remarked, swallowing a lump in her throat. This looked eerily like the place in the dream she’d had about Pythian holding her hand in the middle of the woods. He’d then jumped into a sky-high fire and disappeared. But that had just been a dream, and she had more important things to focus on.

  “Ah, then you should see Druid Lake. It is almost an exact replica. But here, we are simple country-dwellers,” said Cast.

  From the tall to the small, from the round to the wiry, everyone male and female wore the same gray-and-green outfits. Key and Cast left their sides and sought hellos from several friends.

  Seth pulled Isabella toward the thick of the trees.

  “Hey! Ouch!”

  “I know what's going on in your mind, Isabella, and I think you should lay off it.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “Jack.”

  Heat flushed up her neck and over her face. “What about him?”

  “Do not ask these people anything else about him.”

  “Why not? And don't tell me what to do.”

  “I'm trying to protect you. Please, trust me for once.” He seemed serious, afraid almost, so she stopped fighting him and surrendered to his counsel. If Jack was the lost heir, then she had to find him. But if he wasn’t, then she needed to focus on whatever the truth was.

  “Fine. Maybe you're right, but he's tied into this somehow, too, and I want to find out how. I don’t know why, but I just do. I feel connected to him.”

  “So you still think he’s the lost heir?”

  Isabella sighed and did not answer.

  Seth placed his lips close to her ear and whispered, “Just focus on your wish. After that, none of it will matter, okay?” Isabella held back the shiver his nearness sent through her. She had a sinking feeling that none of this would be that simple.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Puzzlers

  “Come!” said a woman with gray hair in big curly loops to the crowd, raising her hands above her head. Her eyes looked yellow like a cat's. “Gather in rings of light, and await the priestess of the night.”

  Seth and Isabella continued to watch the strange woman until a cloud of bats flew over the clearing.

  “Bats,” Isabella whispered.

  “That's never a good sign,” Seth finished.

  “You watch too many cheesy horror movies.”

  They looked at each other. Seth's Adam's apple bobbed, and he looked as uncomfortable as she was beginning to feel.

  Around the fire that wavered from inside the rock pit, roughly thirty people clad in gray bowed their heads. A hunchbacked man with inky hair and an ashen face appeared to stoke the fire.

  “Do you think we'll go to hell if we stay here?” asked Seth, sounding as if he was attempting a joke.

  “Don't say stuff like that to me,” Isabella whispered. “It freaks me out.”

  “Well, whatever is going on, I'm starting to feel a little off about this place.”

  “I thought you wanted to make your wish.”

  “Ah, young love,” the old woman with the cat-yellow eyes said.

  Isabella startled at the woman's sudden presence. “What? We are not in love,” she said, face burning.

  “You wear the symbol of the Fox,” the old woman went on. Her breath smelled like rotten eggs. Isabella gulped a little air and tried to smile politely. “That is a rarity.”

  Several more people entered the clearing. A man with a walrus mustache and a nearly neckless wife were the first to stroll in. Isabella remembered them from somewhere. Was it the hotel? It couldn't have been. Then three families with teenage-looking children came in behind them. Isabella recognized two of the teenagers immediately: Pudgy Rat-Face and Lanky Acne. Her gut twisted, and her windpipe tightened.

  “Don't you remember those two?” asked Seth, eyes narrowing.

  Isabella blinked several times, regaining her wits and nodded. “Yeah, I remember them,” she said coldly. To her surprise, she wanted them to see her. She tried catching their attention with her gaze, but they ignored her. Pudgy Rat-Face actually stepped behind his father, as if afraid. That couldn't have been a good sign.

  Then, as the false moon peaked in the fake sky above, a middle-aged woman with long, black hair streaked with silver emerged from the dark of the forest. Isabella noticed for the first time that none of the people in Wish Valley had violet streaks in their hair, like so many of the others in the city. The sharp-featured woman wore a flowing, dark-green gown and a simple tiara. Her lips were blood-red and her eyes, crystalline. Two small men with pointy noses followed, clutching the train of her dress. They looked almost inhuman.

  The woman approached the fire, shut her eyes for a moment, and then began to chant. “I am the high priestess of the Green, humbly asking for the light of the night and the spirits of the past to bring us truth and peace. From the darkness we rise, and from our honor, we stand. To all who give us power.” Isabella felt hypnotized by the woman. Power radiated from her presence.

  “To the one who restored our vision,” said the crowd in unison.

  “To our ancestors. To our kin. To our savior,” the woman finished.

  And with those words, the orange fire turned black and gold and leapt so high it nearly scorched the trees.

  The people around the fire chanted unintelligible words in a haunting rhythm. Seth shifted beside Isabella when a man came up to the fire, carrying what looked like an urn. He tossed black dust into the blaze. Two others did the same.

  After the ritual, everyone stood, their blank expressions foreshadowing something, but Isabella wasn't quite sure what could be coming. Trays of food were brought out by men and women even shorter than Cast; they wore white tuxedos with sparkling, green bow ties. One of them approached the high priestess. Isabella overheard him call her Satrina.

  The woman's face showed malevolence as she picked up an apple and took a bite. Everyone in the clearing stood and watched her, as if afraid to make a move. It was like they were stuck. Satrina bowed her head toward Cast. He smiled and turned to everyone. “Eat up, my merry friends! We have catered this event with the best sky-side vegetables, fruits, and cheeses.” The tension was seemingly broken as Cast took one of the trays from a server and brought it to Isabella and Seth.

  “Care for some gorgonzola?”

  “Thanks!” Seth said, taking some cheese then offering some to Isabella. “You need to eat.”

  Isabella flushed a bit at his thoughtfulness then popped a bit into her mouth.

  Seth smiled at her, holding her gaze for a bit before she turned back to look at the crowd.

  “Why have we seen those boys sky-side? Are they debuts, too?” Isabella asked, waving a hand in the direction of Pudgy Rat-Face and his ally, who were scarfing down any and everything in their path.

  “Oh, no. They had thei
r debuts last year.”

  “I don't understand. How can they be empaths?”

  “Never judge a book by its cover. Is that all, dear?” asked Cast.

  “No. I want to know where my grandmother is. You said we could make our wishes.”

  Cast turned to her after handing the tray back to a little server with a round, piggish nose. “You have no need to worry about your grandmother, child.”

  His dismissive answer angered her, but Seth shot her a look of repose, and she calmed herself. “Then give us our wishes. That's the only reason I am even here.”

  “You're the Foxworthy heir, the last diadem—in the West, anyway. That is truly why you've come,” said the woman with rotten breath. She was pointing a crooked finger in Isabella's face.

  “What does that mean?” Isabella's face hardened.

  “Nothing much.” Cast shrugged. “Other than the fact that you harness great power. A power that can be seen only in a diadem child. One that needs to be honed and crafted. There are other diadems like you.”

  “I still don't understand this whole diadem thing. Why do people keep saying that to me?” She thought briefly of the fire shooting out of her hands as the crowd stared at her and the illusionist, and about the fairies they'd seen the first night of the solstice. The illusionist. Maybe he was this savior they kept talking about. But that couldn't be. He was just a side-show performer. No, the person they were talking about was much stronger than that.

  “In the empath world, it represents a certain type of child with specific abilities,” said the old woman.

  “I still don't understand,” Isabella said, frustrated. “And no matter who or what I am, what does that matter? We're trying to find our friends.” She looked away from everyone, including Seth, knowing there was much more to it than that.

  She didn't like being a “diadem” child. It made her a freak, even down there. She just wanted to find the lost heir, restore the Fire, and get everything back to normal. Normal. Nothing could ever be normal for her, could it? Maybe normal wasn't real. Maybe everything was a big freak show. The people around her seemed to confirm that notion. But if she found the lost heir and put everything right again, everyone would be home, and she'd have a family again. Stability. Like bus on Sunset Boulevard, she'd have something she could count on. She had to make that wish.