“Okay. How ’bout a Hollywood theme?” suggested Micah.
“Overdone,” Seth said.
“What if we did pieces from your great-grandparents’ movies? Like the soundtracks or whatever, and then lead in to that New Year’s Eve song they always play but kinda rock-style, instead?”
“I love it!” Isabella’s cheeks burned. So did her ears and chest and throat and forehead.
Without warning, the memory of his voice returned. Sleep, my pretty child. Don’t you worry at all. When she wasn’t plagued with the visions from the fire, the sound of her rescuer’s voice worked to comfort her when she felt like she might faint or pass out from emotional or mental exhaustion. But now it was coming out of nowhere for no reason at all.
Maybe she was going crazy. She tried shaking the voice from her mind.
“Isabella?” Seth waved his hand in front of her. “You okay?”
“Yeah, I'm fine. Let's pick the movies.”
Chapter Five
A Hole in the Wall
“Are they black and white?” Seth asked warily.
“Well…” She hesitated. “Most of the movies were black and white. Renee and Sinclair’s movies were all from the ‘20s and ‘30s. But, of course, Night at Holiday Hall isn’t! I’ll go get it.” Beatrice's movie was made in the 1950s and in what they called Technicolor, according to the credits at the beginning of the movie. Isabella was certainly no expert when it came to movies, but she loved this film in particular. Always had.
“But isn’t that your aunt’s movie?” asked Micah. “I thought this was about your great grandparents’ legacy.”
Isabella frowned; this was true.
“Well, technically, your whole family is their legacy, right?” offered Seth. “So we could take a look at it, I guess.”
“But that’s not what the show is about,” Micah argued.
“Maybe Micah’s right. I really love that movie, though.”
Seth shrugged. “I think we should at least look at it, Micah. It could be good.”
“Since when do you like movies at all?” asked his brother.
“I’m just trying to get us to do something, so I can play my bass.”
“Fine, do what you want. No one listens to me, anyway,” said Micah.
Isabella glared at the two of them. Seth had all of the tact of a moose at a tea party. And Micah was irritatingly right, but what was the point of living if you couldn’t turn the rules upside down sometimes?
“I’ll go find it,” said Isabella finally. “Sorry, Micah.”
Before she could take another step, an exuberant voice filled the theater. “Things are progressing nicely, I see!” Theophilus was back. He sailed into the room wearing the same cloak, but this time there was a button pinned on it. It was something she’d seen before on his clothing, but he hadn’t been wearing it for two days. Had he gone to retrieve it? Why now? “I think you can take your leave, as it were. Rest up and, oh, I hear there is a party this afternoon. Go be children!”
“But we were about to watch a movie,” said Isabella.
“Oh, well, I can’t stop you from doing that, but you can’t watch it here.”
“Why not?” Isabella asked at the same time Seth asked—
“What party?”
Isabella sighed. “Johnna Johnson’s.”
“Who’s that?” asked Micah.
“Someone who thinks she’s very important.”
“But isn’t?” asked Seth.
Isabella smiled. Maybe he wasn’t so bad.
Before Isabella could reply, Seth turned to his brother and said rather obnoxiously, “Guess we’re not in the popular crowd yet.” He seemed to find the idea of such a thing ridiculous. Of all the self-important jerks.
“Don’t worry,” Isabella snapped. “I’m not going, either.”
“Hmm.” Theophilus thoughtfully tapped the dimple in his chin.
Isabella narrowed her eyes at her instructor. “Why are you looking at me like that, Theophilus? You know something, don’t you?”
“Ha! I know a great many things, my young friend.”
Isabella slammed her fist onto her leg. ”Ouch.”
“You all right, my dear?”
“My grandmother RSVP’d for me, didn’t she? Why did she tell you and not me? Of course, because she knows I don’t want to go. I can’t even pick how I spend my free time? Whatever.”
“Your grandmother told me nothing. I simply saw a dress moving through the lobby at top speed, and Rolf informed me it was headed to your boudoir.”
“Of course, it was.”
“Well, have fun, children.” Theophilus turned his attention to some papers he had in a manila folder with an odd symbol on the cover.
“I guess no movie then, huh?” asked Micah.
Isabella retrieved her journal from beneath her seat, preparing to go. “I guess not.”
“See, you win as always, dude,” Seth said.
“What? I never win. You’re always telling me what to do.” Micah stood up.
Seth followed suit. “Whatever.”
As they gathered their things, Isabella blurted out to the boys for a reason unbeknownst to her, “Come with me?” Her eyes darted from Seth to Micah as they stood in the threshold of the theater’s rear exit. Why had she said that?
“What?” Seth asked, brows high. His cheeks looked a little flushed, too. Probably because he was getting ready to burst out laughing at her for asking him out. She didn’t date. Boys didn’t like her. Not that she’d have any idea if that had changed, going to St. Agnes.
Before he got the wrong idea, Isabella amended, “Both of you. I’m sure I can bring guests. It’s my hotel.”
“Not a snob, eh?”
Isabella ground her teeth but then let it go, suddenly committed to the idea. If Seth and Micah were there, she would have something to distract her. Or better yet, a reason to avoid talking to Johnna and her friends. “Please? It’ll be fun.”
“I don’t know.” Seth hesitated as he slung his bass over his shoulder.
“We could meet some of the kids before we start school in January,” said Micah when his brother started to walk away. Seth hesitated and looked back at them. Micah turned to Isabella. “Do they go to Culver Hills High?”
Isabella shrugged. “Maybe.” It was a lie. They all went to private school. Johnna and her friends went to the one Isabella had been kicked out of, and Cleo was probably going back to the one Isabella was stuck in now. Yet another reason not to want to go on her own.
“Do you go there?” Micah asked.
“I wish.”
“What’s so great about it?” asked Seth.
“Nothing, I guess.”
“Please leave, children,” Theophilus finally said. “I have a few things to attend to.”
“We have this really good idea for the show and want to watch a few of Renee’s old movies for inspiration.”
“She wants to watch Night at Holiday Hall,” supplied Micah.
Isabella shot him a sharp look then continued, “That’s my favorite movie. I know it’s not Renee’s, but—”
“Music from the Foxworthy films. Splendid idea, but not in the theater, as I said, children. Perhaps tomorrow…”
“That’s fine,” said Seth. “I’m getting hungry anyway.”
“Me, too,” Micah agreed.
Isabella’s stomach rumbled loudly.
“Well, I guess that’s settled then,” Theophilus said.
Isabella blushed and turned to follow the boys out of the theater. Before they reached the door, Seth bent over and said, “We’ll be there.”
The temperature elevated in the theater. Had it been that hot a second ago? She stepped back. “Where?”
“The party.”
“Oh, right. Great. Meet me at Betty’s Basement in an hour. It’s a diner kinda restaurant on the basement level, if you haven’t tried it. It’s really good. The food at the party might be kinda lame.”
“Sure.”<
br />
The boys headed out of the door toward the elevator, but before Isabella could follow, to her surprise Theophilus called her back. “Isabella, might I have a word with you?”
Curious, she returned to the theater and headed onto the stage. “I thought you wanted us to go.”
“I nearly forgot I had this.” He rummaged through his coat pocket as Isabella came to stand in front of him; he leaned against the piano. “It's here somewhere. Ah, yes, right beneath this. There!” He pulled out a long chain with a pendant hanging from it. The warm buzz radiating through Isabella’s body intensified. “I do have other things to do today, dear, but I think this is important. Your grandmother wanted me to wait a bit longer, but it is my responsibility. You see, I’m your guardian. Your great-grandmother Renee appointed me as such before she died.”
“My grandmother is my guardian.”
“This is different. But first, let me explain this.”
“Wh-what is it?”
He placed the pendant in his palm and stepped closer. “This, my dear, is the symbol of our society.”
“Our society?”
“The Empath Society, our true world,” he explained. He wasn’t making any sense. She put her journal on top of the piano and looked closer at the pendant. This wasn’t the same symbol she’d seen on Theophilus’s manila folder. This emblem consisted of a heart with an eight-pointed star inside of it. The star bore a tiny crown at its center. Theophilus turned the pendant over after she’d had a short moment to examine it. “And the flip side reveals an ancestral seal unique to your lineage.” He held it out to her.
“This is some kind of joke, right?” She backed away, knowing in her heart that it was not.
“It’s your birthright, child. Take it.”
“My what?”
“It belonged to Renee,” he went on. “Beatrice died before her mother could pass it on to her. You’re the first female in your great-grandmother’s line in decades. You’re also special.”
“What do you mean by that? Like crazy?”
“I don’t much like that word. But yes, you are different. Have you been sensing something lately?”
“Well, I’m empathetic, like you said the other day.”
Theophilus laughed. “To put it mildly, diadem child.”
“What? Diadem? Doesn’t that mean crown?” she asked. Isabella remembered hearing the word spoken by the man the night of the fire. After looking up the meaning in the dictionary one day, she had decided a long time ago that the man had said it as a term of affection like one would use princess or pearl.
“It is a nickname for those selected for a destiny to rule.”
That had never crossed her mind. “I don’t want to rule anything,” she said. She thought for a minute. She wanted to know more, to believe him, but it wasn’t that easy. “Was Renee one?”
Theophilus nodded once. “Your family and many others are citizens of what is known as the Empath Society. It encompasses thousands of people like you and me. Your mother and father alike. The boys, too, but it's not my place to tell them. Their parents will do that. But diadems are different. The boys are not diadem children, but they are special, too. Special to you, in particular.”
“What boys? You mean Seth and Micah? That’s crazy.” Maybe that was why her grandmother wanted her to get to know them the other day. No. That couldn’t be the reason, couldn’t be the reason.
“A bad use of language indeed. Crazy, stupid, lame. Aren’t these words designed to put others in a caste lower than another? I don’t approve of such labels. Not at all.” Theophilus turned his rambling back toward the previous topic. “Men wear rings in our society. The women, necklace charms like this. And…” He looked genuinely forlorn when he said, “Your mother’s necklace was lost in the fire, I’m afraid.”
Isabella swallowed and held up her chin. “I just can’t believe any of this is true.”
“Why so skeptical? You’ve experienced things that prove otherwise, have you not?”
Well, she’d shattered the Carte Blanche principal’s Benevolent Spirit Award by just looking at it last year, when he expelled her for starting a fire in the science lab, which she had not done. Some kids had been in there smoking, and she’d gone to retrieve her bag. They begged her to keep a lookout until they finished. Before she had a chance to blink, they were out of sight and the principal was there. A fire that had not been there before spread from one of the lab desks. The principal pulled down a fire hydrant and saved the classroom, but Isabella had not been so lucky.
“I guess I have,” she said to Theophilus. Not to mention her Decembers and the fire the night her parents died.
“Because Renee died before your mother, I believe her seal was meant to be yours.”
Isabella smiled at this. “What is this seal thing anyway?”
He brushed his thumb across the deep-set imprint of a fox with three laurels around it—presumably the ancestral seal he’d mentioned—and then handed it to her.
“The necklace will shift to have a setting for your gem in time. They change with the possessor. The other thing you will need to learn about is the Violet Fire. Its source provides this hotel protection. And your great-grandparents built this hotel to reside above it. Several miles above it.”
“That doesn't make any sense.” Isabella was always great with puzzles, but this was one that she just couldn’t figure out.
“The Violet Fire protects the empaths and empathy, to an extent. Renee created it—harnessed energy of a certain type to create a physical fire that promised to protect those in her realm, particularly her children. It is difficult to explain, but it is dangerously low right now, leaving you and this hotel vulnerable.”
“But you said it protected empathy. Do you mean everyone's empathy? Or just the people in this hotel?”
“All I can say is it’s our duty to protect it. Now, take your charm in your hand, dear girl, and I will explain all that later.”
Isabella took the charm warily. The buzzing warmth shot all over her body in soothing, calming waves. She shook her head. “What if I don’t want it?” She tried handing it back to Theophilus, but he smiled at her gently.
“Do not be afraid of what is to come. It cannot be avoided.”
Slowly, she acclimated to the sensation, and she felt more at ease. She raised the chain of the necklace above her head and dangled it from the tips of her fingers so she could get a better look at it. It was kind of awesome, with the fox and everything. But what the hell was it doing to her? It was so strange. Heady almost. Yet wildly comforting.
“Why am I just getting it now? Grandmother Renee died when I was four.”
“We were waiting for the right time.”
“Who is we? You and these empath people? You and Uncle Robert are trying to play a joke on me, right? Like that magic trick he did?”
“So many questions that will be answered in due time. For now, put the necklace on and get used to its effects. It will aid you. I will explain more tomorrow.”
Isabella eyed the pendant, trying to figure out how it could possibly help her fainting spells or control her emotions. Maybe this was what she was looking for. Maybe it’d help her have a normal holiday for once and be like a regular kid.
When she looked toward Theophilus, she saw that he’d gathered his things and was headed behind the stage. She yelled after him, but he disappeared. Isabella sighed. She’d just have to talk to him later. She didn’t like the sound of what he’d been talking about with the whole Violet Fire thing.
As she headed toward the elevator, she realized she’d left her journal on top of the piano. Would she ever get out of there? She still had to get ready for that ridiculous party.
When she returned to the theater, she spotted Theophilus dipping into a door she’d never noticed before in a wall at the edge of the theater, a few paces from the stage. The wall opened quickly for him and then shut again. What the heck? She didn’t know what was odder: the sudden necklace ceremony
Theophilus had just thrust upon her, that Pythian kid, or her “guardian” disappearing into walls. All of the above, she decided. Maybe he wasn't lying about all that empath stuff, and that Pythian kid was probably part of the whole thing. She had to think about all that later, but she couldn’t wait to think about it later.
She spotted her journal on top of the piano and climbed the stairs at stage left to retrieve it. There was no stopping her curiosity, and as soon as the journal was in her hand, Isabella was down the stairs stage right, knocking around to find a way to make the wall open. It was not hard. Three knocks and a push, and she was in.
It was dark and musty. She heard the buzz of a light, but where was it coming from? She had no clue. It was pitch black. Practically.
Placing her hand on the wall, she realized it was painted stone. She slid her hand along the grooves, and for some reason, the nervousness she would have normally felt in such a situation did not surface. She moved forward. The smell of jasmine and clementine filled the air.
As she made her third step, the lights came on—little electrical lights inside of candleholders. Portraits of old-time actors lined the walls. There was a dusty, velvet runner that spilled in front of her. She saw Theophilus, a speck in the distance, disappear into a room on the right. Her heart thumped. He had not noticed her. How could that have been, when the lights had come on as soon as she stepped inside?
She had stepped into a new world of sorts, with darkness and curiosity nipping away at her. The hairs on her arms stood at attention like soldiers during a march. She wasn’t sure if the sensation she was feeling at that moment was fear or excitement, but she was wary of getting caught by Theophilus or someone worse. She decided it was best to find someone to come back with her to explore whatever this place was later. But who? When?
She left the strange hallway, thinking that Johnna Johnson’s party might actually serve some purpose after all. No Nano nosing about, wondering where she was when she came back to snoop. She would just need to get past the party chaperones discreetly. Rolf would probably be overseeing things for the hotel, as he did for most parties, plus Johnna’s parents, most likely. Easy. Rolf would be trying to please the paying guests, and her parents were always too self-absorbed to pay much attention to anyone.
The Lost Heir Page 5