The Lost Heir

by Allison Whitmore

  “I feel like that guy is following us,” she said, stuffing her hand into the pocket of the green tweed skirt Mrs. Vanderpole had given her. It wasn't much different than wearing a school uniform, though the thin, black-ribbed sweater that went with it was much more stylish than anything she was required to wear at St. Agnes.

  Seth looked back and then took her arm, pulling her hand out of her pocket. “Maybe.”

  Isabella looked back again. The man had gotten closer, though the crowd had thinned after they crossed onto the next block.

  They came to the front door of Theophilus's shop for the second time and found it closed yet again. “I thought it was supposed to be open today!” Seth cried.

  Isabella looked behind Seth and saw the short, heavy-set man standing right by his side.

  “Why, enter, of course. That is why you are banging on this door,” the little man said, stepping past them and unlocking the shop. “I went to get my hat habberdashed. The shop's been so quiet today. I'm surprised, what with the Festival and Christmas just a few days away.”

  Instead of a door chime, a blast of Mozart burst out when he opened the door. Isabella laughed. Good ol' Theophilus. She entered the shop after Seth, and the door closed behind them.

  There were small straw picnic baskets at the front of the shop, probably for customers to take as they shopped. A large poster of Renee Fox holding a scepter and touting her as “Reine de Cryptage” hung from the wall. Snowflakes and holly were sprinkled in the poster’s background. There was also a large wheel on it with letters in its inner circle; funny symbols lined the outer edges of the wheel. The caption read Wintertide Festival, December 30, 1931.

  “Isn't that your great-grandmother?” Seth asked. “Theophilus told us she started the festival.”

  Isabella shrugged, choosing not to comment. The wide little man followed her stare and nodded. “Yes, Reine de Cryptage, Queen of the Puzzlers she was. Beauty and brains—some people say that's the best combination.” He sounded a bit put out by the idea. “Let me know if I can help you with anything,” he said, hanging up his hat and coat. “We won't be open for too much longer.”

  “But you just opened.” Isabella glared at the odd little man. “What about Theophilus? Do you know where he is? Is he still with the police...?” The man lifted his tiny index finger and quietly touched his lips with it, stopping her mid-sentence.

  “Quiet, girl. Theophilus is probably fine. You mustn't worry anyone about that! He is probably exactly where he wants to be.” As the chubby, miniscule man went to scatter displays around the window, Isabella and Seth decided to explore the store. Beneath Renee's poster was a section labeled Cyphers, Enigmatics, and Codes. Rows of all sizes of funny typewriter-looking machines and wheels, like the one in the poster, were on sale.

  “What do you think they need these for? It's like everyone does code-breaking,” Isabella said to Seth. “Wait. Micah was talking about cyphers the day of Johnna's party, wasn't he? Seth?”

  When he didn't reply, she turned to find him playing with a long spyglass. The shop was delectable and diverting, that was for sure; the name of Theophilus's shop definitely fit it. Maps and books filled the walls so high that ladders on wheels were used to access everything. The music area was loaded with all kinds of instruments, except for pianos and maybe harpsichords, which, according to a note posted in the section, were located on the basement level. There were beautiful, hand-painted trunks and boxes, as well as a gadget section with items such as a copper envelope-sealer, light spectacles, an eye-massager, a page-turner, and something called a dreamtrope. At the back of the store, she found a glass cabinet full of goggles and cases. They looked to be pretty high-tech, yet had an old-world feel to them. Isabella wandered over to see what Seth was looking at.

  “He even sells these funky little USB drives,” Seth said, picking up a USB that looked more like a pocket knife encasement carved in Victorian London.

  “I can't believe he has this shop. I'm gonna look at some of the books.”

  An array of titles lined the shelves, such as fiction from the Complete Works of Shakespeare to The Wizard of Oz to newer books that she recognized. She found The Origin of the Species, a reprint of the U.S. Constitution, and many books on the history of California. Finally, Isabella came upon an area labeled The Elementals, which had three sections: Empaths, Fair Folk, and Nether Creatures. There were two shelves labeled Environs, Legends, and Tides.

  She picked up a black book of legends. In it, she read about the Yule Cat, a monstrous creature that swallowed people for neglecting their children during the Yuletide; she put the book down abruptly. Then she picked up a red book that was outlined in dust. It immediately opened on a page about a place known as the Lake of Sorrow. Weird name. She replaced the book when her eyes were caught by the spine of a golden book about holidays and tradition. She lifted the heavy book from the shelf and examined the cover. A wheel with eight sections was engraved on it, just above the title: The Tides and All That Bind: A Complete Collection. The two largest parts of the book focused on the Yule and Midsummer.

  The Yule section included information on the winter solstice, Christmas, and the Wintertide Festival, but only one page focused on the New Year. It had pictures of decorated trees, candles, stars, and something called a Yule log. She'd heard of those before but didn't know much about them. It said something about burning the ashes from the old year to keep the cycle of life going. She found it so fascinating that she wanted to devour it all. Unfortunately, she had no money and limited time. She looked over at Seth. He bobbed his head in time to music beneath a pair of headphones he'd discovered. He'll be under there forever, she thought, burying her nose back in the book.

  One picture that stood out contained several people around her age holding up candles. Crowns of reed peppered with stars sat on their heads, and they wore white gowns. The caption beneath read, Children of the Green. It was probably a pageant of some kind.

  She turned to the Midsummer section. The major celebration of that time was known as the Festival of Light, which centered around bonfires, lots of eating, and games of amusement. She also found a smattering of stories about fairies—or, as they were called in this book, fair folk: the ones who left gifts for the deserving.

  She looked up at the poster of Renee and leafed back to the section on the Wintertide Festival, which took place every year on December thirtieth, following smaller local or family celebrations for the winter solstice and Christmas. She saw something about the cutting of the mistletoe, the blessing of the ancestors, and The Bazaar of Green, Tide, and Joy. Then she read aloud, “Every year the festival culminates with the Challenge of the Well.” Interesting. Before she read any further, she spotted a green leather-bound book written by Theophilus himself, according to the scribbles on the cover. Curious, Isabella put the tides book aside and pulled the green book off the shelf.

  “An empath's two greatest powers are the powers of self-knowledge and universal love,” she mumbled, reading the first line of the old book.

  “Would the young lady like to purchase anything?” the little man asked fervently.

  “No,” said Isabella, placing the book back on the shelf. “But can I ask about Theophilus now?”

  “Oh,” the man said with exuberance, as if the thought of his boss simply elated him. “It was just yesterday, I think. Yes, yesterday. He said he was going to visit relatives for the holidays... I didn't think he had any relatives, though,” the man muttered. “But, oh well. You never know about people. Is he a friend of yours?”

  “Yes. He, uh...” Isabella trailed off as the man blinked at her; she thought it best for him to believe that Theophilus was visiting family rather than sitting in a jail cell. “He told me to tell you hello. I saw him just before he left.” Technically, it wasn't a lie.

  “I see,” said the little man with a half-smile, as he glanced down. He suddenly looked up at Isabella with a warmth in his eyes, almost as if he felt some sort of connection wit
h her at that moment. “That symbol there.” He pointed to the necklace draped around her neck. “Are you a Foxworthy?”

  Red enflamed Isabella's cheeks as she tried to avoid the question, but the man's gaze was fixated upon her. “Yes, I am. Renee was my great-grandmother.”

  The man's smile filled his face from ear to ear. “An actual Foxworthy in the shop? What a delight!” He ran over to Isabella and threw his arms around her benevolently, hugging her like he was a long lost relative. “I've heard so much about your family. Renee and Sinclair have done so much for our little world down here. Any Foxworthy is more than welcome to anything I could ever offer.”

  Isabella smiled sweetly as Seth looked on in disbelief.

  ”I know Wintertide brings a lot of top-dwellers down here. Half of that crowd out there lives sky-side. I just don't see the use for it.”

  Isabella frowned, glancing back through the large store window and catching a glimpse of the crowd as they passed. “I didn't realize that. You mean people sky-side know about this place?” she asked, thinking of Betty and the adults she thought she knew.

  The man sighed gravely. “I'm afraid so. Some were once more keen members of society, keeping shops and working in government. Now most are mere vacationers. The portal restrictions have gotten tougher in terms of special passes, of course.

  Seth looked a little uncomfortable upon hearing everything the man had just said.

  “What's your name, if you don't mind my asking?” asked Isabella.

  “Cast Krebbs.”

  “Are you the only one who works here when Theophilus is away?” she asked. Seth seemed to be mulling something over in his mind. Was he angry with her? Blaming her for this? Maybe it was her fault they were down there.

  “No. There are a few of us. But most everyone's on holiday. That is, except my good friend Key, of course. He should be 'round back by now.” Cast looked up at the large clock on the far right wall. “Would you like to meet him?”

  She considered for a moment but thought it best to avoid dragging anyone else into her little adventure. “No, thanks. But I did have a question.”

  “Iz...” Seth's eyes warned her to stay quiet.

  She wanted to comply, but she couldn't. The Vanderpoles had not given them that much to go on. ”Our friends are missing. Uh, top-dwellers, and—”

  “Do you mean Catherine Bayer, the Antonellis, and the Logans?”

  Seth's jaw dropped as Isabella glared at Cast, bewildered.

  ”Oh, yes, we heard there was a disturbance of some kind up there. It happened just yesterday. But we don't care to worry much about such things. We like to keep the merriment and all that. The tide must be clear for the festival.”

  “But the Vanderpoles didn't seem to know anything,” Isabella lied. She wasn't sure if she fully trusted this man, despite the fact that he worked for Theophilus.

  “Well, perhaps they weren't tuned into the Empath Network. Some don't like to be during the holidays.”

  “Can you tell us where they are?”

  “Who, dear?”

  “Our friends and family.” She wanted to blurt out “the lost heir,” too.

  “Oh, we don't know. Only a relative may connect with a lost one.”

  Isabella brightened. “A relative?” The lost heir was her relative, wasn't he?

  “Well, we're their relatives,” Seth said firmly. He wanted to find his brother and they would: She wouldn't let him down. “Does this mean we can find anyone who's related to us?” Seth went on.

  “It is possible only in Wish Valley,” said Cast. “It is just a gondola ride to the west.”

  “How do we get there?” Seth stepped closer to the little man.

  Before Cast could answer, a woman walked into the store and picked up one of the small baskets. It was the same woman in the bird hat they’d seen the day before. As soon as she stepped inside, her eyes went to Isabella’s and opened widely. “The diadem child!”

  “What?”

  The woman strode toward Isabella, pointing a cane at her. “You must be careful.”

  “Katerina, how are you?” Cast asked the woman.

  She did not address him. “You must be careful. Find your family and keep them close. There is darkness pouring into The Avenue and beyond. I can feel it in my bones.” She turned away and started up the aisle where she picked up a blue and black book and brought it to Cast. “I’ll pay thirteen testoons for this and not a penny more.”

  “Thirteen testoons? Surely, this is worth twenty,” he said.

  The woman continued through the shop, picking up items and filling her basket.

  Cast did not argue and rang up the woman’s charge. Isabella needed to breathe fresh air, or what passed for air down here, and decided to go outside. Her chest felt pressed upon after being in the poorly ventilated shop for so long.

  As she headed outside, Seth attempted to follow her, but she held up a hand. “I get it if you want some air, too, but please. I need a little space for a minute, if you don’t mind.

  He looked uncomfortable at her request but nodded.

  When she got outside, her eyes scanned the crowd hopefully. Were they out there? They had to be somewhere. She just wanted this to be over sooner rather than later. She found a small bench nearby and sunk onto it with her head in her hands. God, did she want this to be over.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Visions

  With dry, tired eyes, Isabella watched the crowd snake through the streets. She could feel them buzzing past her in a lukewarm rhythm of emotion. It was making her dizzy. She shut them and tried to cut them off. It seemed to work easily.

  “Izzy.” She opened her eyes to see Seth standing in front of her. “You okay?”

  She looked up at him. “I don’t know,” she said. “I guess so.”

  He sat down beside her and nudged her shoulder. “We're going to find them. And the lost heir, and whatever else you need.”

  “I need?” she asked with a lifted eyebrow.

  “We need,” he amended.

  They sat there for a while. She looked at the crowd again. She took in their faces. Some old, some sour, some full of urgency. She noticed there weren’t many children, but there were some. Many of them in old clothes like the girl they’d met when they first arrived. She settled her head on Seth’s shoulder, wishing for a moment that they could hide in this little corner of this weird world forever and forget everything. “Did you know I got arrested two years ago?” she asked, knowing full well that he did not. She didn’t know why that had even come out of her mouth.

  “What… were you, like, twelve?”

  “You obviously aren't very good at math.” She cleared her throat. ”No, I pushed some guy off the Venice pier.”

  “That's pretty awesome. But I have to say now I'm kinda scared of you.”

  She punched his arm and turned a little to face him, losing the warmth of their closeness but gaining the strength of gaze.

  “The guy was torturing some kid. He had him above the benches, standing on top of the railing. It was pretty wide, like a park bench, you know? The kid wiggled out of his grasp and before he could jump down and get him, I helped the guy lose his footing.”

  “Why didn't you run away before the cops got there?”

  “It's Venice. The cops practically sleep on the beach, waiting for you to make a wrong move.”

  Seth shot her a frown. “So what did they do to you?”

  “It wasn’t really an arrest—they questioned me and let me go. Lana was there and other witnesses. But I could have been arrested.”

  “Ah, so you're not as scary as I thought.”

  “I do things like that, and I hate it sometimes. It’s because I…”

  “You feel the kid’s fear?” Seth finished for her.

  Her eyes widened with surprise. “Does that happen to you?”

  “All the time.”

  “And what do you do?”

  “I’m a guy. Kinda the kind who can scare peop
le away just by looking at them, but you shouldn’t do anything. You could get hurt.”

  She knew that what he was saying was probably true, but that didn't matter. She couldn't help it. “Their pain can be so frightening to me. It’s like it’s pumping out of my skin. Does that happen to you?”

  Seth went quiet for a moment, his eyes no longer on hers. “Only with you.”

  “Oh.” She cleared her throat again, suddenly finding the topic of conversation extremely awkward.

  “But I kinda have to say you're a bit of a hero, Isabella Foxworthy.”

  She felt heat climb up her neck and wished it away, fearing that he could see the effect he’d just had on her. He was looking at her again, and she wished he would stop. “You're crazy,” she said.

  “Takes a crazy to know a crazy,” he said softly and stood up. She followed suit. He faced her with his palm up, as if he wanted her to take it. Without thinking, she touched hers to his. Fire coursed through her body. Their eyes locked. Then slowly, they threaded their fingers together.

  “Tides that bind,” Seth said.

  “Don't you mean ties?”

  “I don't think I do.”

  As they continued to hold one another's gaze, Isabella's heart filled with everything Seth was feeling, and it felt good.

  The world around them grew dark, and before them stood two strangers in the distance. “Um, what’s going on?” he asked.

  “Just go with it,” said Isabella, not knowing what else to say. So many things had been happening to her that didn’t make sense, and now they were in a world they didn’t know. Everything was upside down.

  “We are seeing the same thing, aren’t we?”

  Isabella took Seth’s other hand instinctively, and without warning, the darkness erupted into a magical sight: a forest clearing materialized, hazy, as if not really there. Then the two figures came into clear focus. Seth and Isabella could both see them: a middle-aged man who stood in front of a thick violet fire, and a young girl, perhaps a year or two younger than Isabella was now, who held his hand tightly. I think we are, she said in her mind.