The Lost Knight (Volume III) The Lost World

Chapter 33: Rosy Cross

I peek into various rooms pretending to look for Detti, but in reality, I'm blatantly snooping. I think this is my mother's family home, which should make it my home. Both Stratagor Ziras and Jonah told me I'm the Lord here. However, Detti hasn't said anything or referred to my title, so I'm not sure. I can't ask because it would be rude to saunter into a stranger's home and declare myself the owner.

Footsteps alert me that she's heading my way, so I jump into the closest room, which looks like somebody's office. There's no denying that I'm not where I'm supposed to be. If she catches me in here, there's no way I can make up an excuse. She walks by, and I relax once she's out of earshot.

There's a giant empty bookshelf running the length of the long wall with a fireplace tucked into the middle of it. Judging by the state it's in; there hasn't been a fire in it in a long time. In fact, it doesn't seem as if there's been anyone in this room for years.

There's a desk on the far wall and a suit of armor in the corner. Whose office is this? Other than an old wooden chair in front of the fireplace, there's nothing else in the room except for a strange piece of art sitting on the desk.

It's a gold short sword stabbed into a heavy base of three circular platforms stacked on top of each other, forming steps. The pedestal is a checkerboard of vivid stones, all the colors of the rainbow. Each stone has two markings; one is a number and the other is a symbol, maybe a letter.

The tackiness continues up the sword. I'm not sure what metals it's made out of, but the blade is gleaming yellow, the left cross guard is blue, and the right is red. The grip is white. There's a big ugly rose in the center of the guard. And the entire thing is etched with stars, suns, and other symbols.

I pick it up to examine the sword, but it's very heavy for a statue that's only sixteen inches tall. It's incredibly ugly; I can see why it was abandoned in this room. I don't know why it wasn't thrown out or given to the elves; they'd love something this gaudy.

I put the sword statue down, and when I glance around the room again, both the mantel and the chair in front of it have the tacky sword and flower carved into them. Now that I think of it, there was something similar to it in the painting of my parents. I rush back to the hall to investigate.

In their wedding painting, my father is wearing a pin with the rose, but the base stones are behind the sword, not under it. Many of the people in other paintings are wearing various pieces of jewelry with the rose-sword. This symbol obviously means something, but if it's part of the Knights Templar, why haven't I seen it before?

I leave the hall determined to locate Detti and get some answers to my many questions. How do I ask who's house this is?

She's in the kitchen stirring something in a steaming pot on the stove. "Can I help?" I ask.

She hands me a tall strawberry-scented drink. "No, I got it. You just sit there. I'll be done soon."

I'm grateful I don't have to assist. I have no idea how to cook and no desire to learn. Plus, her stove is weird, like one of those old-timey ones that I've seen in movies, only there's no place to add wood, and it's neon blue. Not that the color makes a difference; it just adds to its weirdness.

I lean against the table and take a sip of my yummy drink. I have no idea what to say; she doesn't invite a lot of questions. She'll talk about my dad, so maybe I should start there. "So, your pegasus is sleeping?" she asks.

Okay, Lenox is a safe enough topic to get the conversation moving. I give a good four minutes on him and then run out of words again. The problem is, I have a bazillion questions, but it's too soon to ask any of them, so I'm stuck sorting through all of them to find safe subjects.

"Oh, wait! I got one," I accidentally say out loud. Detti looks more relieved than shocked; maybe she is struggling just as much as I am. "What's that symbol with the sword, and the colors, and the rose? Is that a Knights Templar thing?"

She grabs her chest and gasps. I pivot to make sure Lenox hasn't broken in. He hasn't. I turn back around, and she awkwardly coughs to cover whatever drama that was.

"No," she says a little too harshly, then puts her hands up to stop herself. She takes a breath and calmly says, "That a Rosicros, or Rosy Cross. The symbol of the Rosicrucians."

"It's a Rosicrucian thing?"

Detti nods.

"Is it religious?"

"No! I just said it was the symbol of the Rosicrucians."

"My dad had the pin," I say, and then add, "My parents were Rosicrucians?"

"Of course," Detti says, sounding surprised I don't know that.

I leave the room without a word. The Rosicrucians want the portals open. Stratagor Ziras told the truth when he said he had nothing to do with my parents' death. They were on his side. That's why the Grucht Leisck were there. The curra lied to me. Jonah for sure, lied to me.

If I knew where I was sleeping, I'd go flop on my bed, so instead, I march out of the house and down the path leading to the village.

I'm in physical pain. My chest hurts as if my heart is cramping. My head is going to implode. Jonah lied to me. There's no denying it. He lied. How could he?

I cover the entirety of the deserted village and sit on a bench in front of an empty store. Jonah's betrayal cuts deep. He was my family. My only family. The one person I trusted implicitly. He told me he wanted the portals closed, but I never thought he would deceive me. Why couldn't he just have been truthful and let me sort things out?

The events of the past few years race through my brain. He told me the curra had been taking care of my house. Lie. He told me my parents were Knights. Lie. He told me Stratagor Ziras sent the gryphons. Lie. He never once said I could use the key. He let them keep me in a constant state of exhaustion by making me train for a nonexistent enemy.

Why would Jonah do that to me? Why can't anyone ever treat me like a person, a lonely person who desperately needs a family? Who just needs the truth?

I wallow in self-pity until I put myself into a deep depression. The only family I have now is my weird Aunt Detti. I wish she wouldn't try so hard and just be normal.

It's late, and I don't want her to worry, so I start back to the house. I stop in the middle of the street and turn to a building that catches my eye. There's nothing unusual about it. It's brick, like all the other buildings, and looks like it used to be a store of some sort.

I peer through the plate glass window and see a counter toward the back and a sign on the wall. I shrug and walk on. There's something about that store that puts me on edge. I can't imagine why a simple abandoned shop would do that. Whatever it is, it's not important.