The Lost Heir (Book I)- The Violet City

The Light Council

Seth didn't back down. "If I have my parents then, where are they?"

"I don't know, but we're gonna find them. This secret society they're in. Whatever lies they've told. None of it matters. We just need to figure out what's going on."

"Maybe they don't want us to. If they did, they would have told us what was going on. They probably just left. Left and decided to leave us here to have God knows what happen."

"Is that what you think?" Isabella's palms fisted.

"I just know I have to protect everyone now, and it's--"

"You don't have to protect me," said Isabella.

"Or me," said Cleo.

"You're a kid too, you know?" Isabella remarked.

"I'm the oldest," Seth reminded her.

"You're not my brother," said Isabella. "You're not her brother either."

"We're sticking together, staying away from the cops, right?"

Isabella didn't answer him. She didn't know what they were going to do. "Theophilus. We have to find him," she said. She thought of the violet fire for the first time in a while. Theophilus said the lost heir had to be found so that he could help her restore the fire. Maybe that was the reason all of this was happening.

Seth grew pensive, looked up, his lips pressed thin and tight. Isabella decided to leave him alone. Cleo seemed to lose herself in thought as well as she picked up various objects from around the room: a magnifying glass, small clocks set to varying time zones. Isabella eyes soaked up everything. She understood Seth's anger and feelings of betrayal. Her Nano had been lying to her too, and it stung like a back-handed slap across her bare cheek. "Okay," said Isabella, "maybe we should just look for clues then figure out what to do next. There could be a message or some notes with information somewhere or something."

"Dude," said Seth, pointing to a carving high up on the wall. "It's the symbol from your necklace."

The air grew thinner. Colorless and carved into the stone of the wall was the Empath Society's seal: the heart, the eight-pointed star, and the little crown in the center. Beneath it read fons et origo. "Cleo, what's that mean?" Isabella asked.

"I think it's like spring or fountain and origin or source. I guess spring and source. I think I've heard that phrase."

"Okay..." Isabella wasn't exactly slow, but she didn't get what that was supposed to mean at all.

"I just think it's a motto. Who knows what they mean by it? I don't think it's a message for us." She paused. "So, the first one is the symbol on the door and on the table is just for this group they're in and this one with the crown and heart is a symbol for the whole Empath society, I guess."  

"Yeah, that makes sense," said Isabella.

Seth slid over to a wall and touched a blue jewel beneath the portrait of an old man wearing a top hat and a red bow tie. "Dude, I think these things are real." He fingered the sparkling bobble.

Isabella went to the portrait directly across from her grandmother's place at the table. Brush strokes and oil paint produced Renee Foxworthy, wearing a whole lot of fur and standing regally behind a chair. Her beautiful eyes appeared conflicted between uncertainty and peace. Beside Renee, there was a portrait of Sinclair. He wore a moustache and a World War I uniform. Isabella knew this was from one of his old films and not from real service. To the right of Sinclair, hung a picture of a handsome Native American man holding a peculiar sword with a jagged blade and a star at the top of the hilt. The jeweled button beneath Sinclair looked to be black opal, while the other man's was an amethyst. The fire of the jewel tugged Isabella toward it. Like the wall that sucked them into the room just moments before had, the jewel warmed.