The Buried Symbol (The Ruins of Issalia Book 1) Page 17

  Amber leaned forward and grabbed Brock’s hand, holding it in hers. “Thank you again for helping me yesterday. I was so scared, and I fear what would’ve happened if you hadn’t come.” She gave his hand a squeeze before letting go.

  Before he could respond, she continued. “I’ve decided it’s my responsibility to ensure it never happens again, to me or to some other innocent girl. That’s why I plan to step forward and bring charges against Corbin. He can’t be allowed to get away with something like that.”

  Her eyes reflected determination, but he knew what this meant. “Amber, you know who Corbin is, right?”

  “Yes,” she replied. “But that doesn’t give him the right to violate me or anyone else against their will. He can’t get away with it.”

  “You’re right.” Brock agreed with her. “But it will be difficult. You need to approach it just right. It will require proof, or he’ll just deny it and it will be your word against his.”

  “I know.” She leaned close to take his hand again. She batted her long lashes, her eyes pleading. “That’s why I need you to testify as a witness. I need your help, Brock. You’re the only one who saw what happened.”

  He stared at the girl. Her lower lip quivered as she bit it, waiting for his response. He wanted to help her, but it was sure to be difficult. Even with a witness, accusing the Archon’s son of attempted rape was likely to get messy. Just being involved could risk Brock’s career at the Academy. His heart and mind were on different sides.

  His heart won out.

  “Okay.” He had barely gotten the word out when she leapt forward to wrap her arms around him.

  “Oh thank you. Thank you so much, Brock.” She hugged him tightly.

  He felt her body tight against his chest. The blood in his veins surged as his heart pounded harder. After a bit, she released her arms and sat back on the bed.

  “I was afraid you’d say no.” She wiped tears from her cheeks with her sleeve.

  “How could I say no? You asked for my help. I guess I’m a sucker for a damsel in distress,” he said with a smile.

  Amber laughed. Her laugh warmed his heart.

  She gave him one last smile before standing and stepping toward the door. Brock stood to open it for her. She stopped him, gripping the front of his shirt as she stepped close. Her breath tickled his neck as she whispered.

  “Stop by my room at sunset the day after tomorrow. It’s room 1034. That will give me time to get my thoughts on paper. When we meet, we can go over my statement to make sure I worded it correctly. I want to make sure I get it just right.”

  She closed the last bit of distance between them, putting her lips on his. He responded, his lips intertwining with the softness of hers. With eyes closed, his head swam with the pleasure of the moment. She pulled away and his eyes opened to see her staring at him.

  “Sunset, the day after tomorrow then,” she said, slipping out the door.

  The door closed, leaving Brock alone with the sound of his heart pounding in his ears. What had he gotten himself into?

  CHAPTER 48

  During dinner, Brock had little attention to spare. While others traded stories of their day, his mind floated back to thoughts of Amber. She seemed to consume his attention on a frequent basis the past two days, wavering between concern about her situation and the memory of their kiss.

  After contributing little to the dinner conversation, Brock grabbed his empty plate and made his way to the kitchen. He slowed when his eyes landed on Corbin Ringholdt, sitting among the group of boys from Sol Polis. Brock found it irritating that they followed Corbin around like servants, fawning over him. Benny’s roommate, Parker, was among them.

  After a moment, Corbin’s gaze met Brock’s. Corbin stopped talking, glaring in response. He then smiled and made a cutting motion across his neck. A message. Brock already didn’t like Corbin for what he had done to Amber. The feeling of dislike was becoming stronger.

  “Brock, are you going to the library tonight?”

  He turned to see Benny beside him. His quirky friend gave him a smile as he pushed his spectacles back in place. With the tense moment between he and Corbin disrupted, Brock resumed his trek to the kitchen with Benny in tow.

  “I guess I should. Mae wants us to have history topics to discuss soon,” Brock replied. Then he thought about Amber. He was to meet her at sunset, giving him less than two hours. “But I can only go until sundown.”

  Benny nodded. “I’ll go with you then. I need to find some history topics too.” He raised one eyebrow. “Why only until sundown though? Do you have a date or something?”

  He turned sharply toward Benny, blushing as he thought of Amber.

  “You do!” Benny’s head bounced side to side, sporting a grin. “You sure work fast, Brock.”

  Brock shrugged. “Well, it’s not really a date. I’m just meeting a girl about…a project.”

  “Sounds like a date to me,” Benny replied.

  They left the dining hall and followed the corridor to the knowledge center. Brock gripped the cool metal door handle and pulled hard. The heavy wooden door swung open, and they stepped inside.

  Brock prided himself on his ability to read. However, most of his reading experience involved the small collection of books his mother had gathered before she died. He had read and re-read those fifteen books numerous times. Now standing inside the Academy library, he was in total awe at the sight of seemingly endless shelves of books. Prior to this moment, he would have doubted this many books existed in the whole world. To see them in a single building was astounding. He doubted he could read them all in a single lifetime.

  Brock and Benny walked down a wide aisle, toward the heart of the building. After passing a dozen rows of bookshelves, the middle of the room opened to reveal desks arranged in a circle around a spiral staircase. Brock’s eyes drifted up the staircase, where he noticed a catwalk leading to terrace levels at the second and third floor. The ceiling above the third floor held glass panels, light streaming through to illuminate the open center of the room. As his eyes drifted back down, he noticed another set of stairs located along the far wall, heading to the upper levels.

  “Can I help you?”

  Brock’s gaze returned to the circle of desks, most occupied by students who were busy writing. A rail-thin girl with short brown hair was looking at him with one eyebrow raised in question.

  “Um. Yes.” Brock approached the girl while turning on a smile. “Can you please direct me to a section covering details of the Banished Horde?”

  “That would be late pre-empire era.” The girl squinted as she considered the question. “We don’t have many books from that period, but you can try looking in shelving rows 2236 through 2242. You’ll find them on the second floor, southeast corner.”

  Brock had stopped listening, distracted.

  “Excuse me, miss. Can you tell me what’s down there?” he asked, pointing at a trap door beneath the spiral stairwell. The girl glanced at the door before turning back to him.

  “That’s the archives. It’s where we store books too old and brittle to handle. That way, the originals stay safe and secure.” She pointed toward the nearby desks. “These students are working as scribes, copying books that will soon be in the same condition. It allows access to the information without risking damage to the original works, some that are hundreds of years old.”

  “Um. Okay,” Brock said. “Thank you for your assistance.” He turned to follow Benny toward the stairwell located near the south wall.

  The girl called out, “I think you’ll want one of these.”

  Brock turned to find a glowlamp swinging beneath the handle in her hand.

  “Yes. Can we get a second lamp as well?” Brock asked as he returned to fetch the lamp. The girl nodded and handed him two lamps.

  “Thanks again,” he said as he retreated.

  They crossed the room to the stairs. When reaching the second floor, they walked toward the east side. After a little search
ing, they found the shelves matching the numbers suggested. Brock stepped into an aisle, holding his glowlamp up for light. Thousands of books filled this single aisle.

  “This is going to take a while,” Brock muttered.

  “Yeah. You take that side, and I’ll take this side,” Benny replied. “There has to be something about the Horde in here.”

  CHAPTER 49

  Judging by the darkening room, it was nearly sunset. After more than an hour of searching, they had scanned the shelves of two of the six suggested aisles. In that time, they had collected twelve books that showed potential.

  Brock and Benny each grabbed a pile of books and descended the stairs, heading back to the desk to return the lamps.

  “I see that you found a few books to check out,” said the girl at the desk.

  “Yes,” Brock replied. “Here are the lamps as well.”

  “Hold a minute while I record the books you’re taking.” She read the binding of each book, noting it in a ledger. “I need your name and room number as well.”

  “Sure. Brock Talenz. Room 1099,” he replied.

  The girl recorded his name and pushed the two stacks of books toward them. Since Brock had other plans, he piled the books into Benny’s arms to be hauled back to their rooms. The thin boy grunted under the weight of the volumes stacked to his chin. Brock held the door as Benny stepped out and scurried down the hall, weaving under the heavy load. He headed the other direction, toward Amber’s room.

  As he strolled down the hall, Brock thought about the pretty girl. The memory of her embrace quickened his heart again. She also seemed quite taken with him since his heroic entrance into her life. In other circumstances, she might not have given him a second look. However, he wasn’t going to worry about it now. He had enough to worry about in supporting her quest to have Corbin convicted of attempted rape.

  When he entered the narrow hall leading to her room, he saw a crowd of people ahead. A purple cloak was among the blue of novice cloaks. As he neared the crowd, he heard frantic, anxious voices.

  “Calm down and go back to your rooms.” The female master told the students.

  In groups of twos and threes, girls began to peel away. They were holding each other, clearly distraught. As Brock passed the girls, he noted their blotchy, tear-streaked faces.

  A female master blocked the hall before him. “What are you doing here?”

  “I’m meeting someone about a project,” he replied. “Her room is just ahead.”

  “Which room? What’s her name?” the woman asked.

  “Her name is Amber. Room 1034.”

  The woman’s stern features softened. She glanced backward. Brock craned his neck to see what she was looking at. Next to the open door was number 1034. Master Varius stepped from the room, her eyes downcast. She looked up, shaking her head with sadness in her eyes.

  Fear struck Brock so hard, he stumbled backward a step. He then darted forward, passing both women as he ran into Amber’s room. The scene was one he would never forget.

  The room was a mirror image of his own room, but with a single chair in place of the second bed. On the floor, an open jar lay on its side with pale yellow powder spilling out. Amber lay still on her bed, too still.

  He ran to her side, falling to his knees as he grabbed her hand. It was cold and limp. Her skin was pale and felt clammy, her lips blue. Tears began to track down his cheeks. He looked at Varius, who stood in the doorway.

  “You need to help her. Please do something!” he pleaded.

  She shook her head. “I cannot. She’s too far gone. It’s not possible to heal the dead. I’m so sorry, Brock.”

  His vision blurred as tears collected. He held the girl’s cold hand to his cheek as he struggled with the loss of a new friend. A deeper feeling of despair began to creep in. A feeling that any woman who got close to him was destined to die.

  “How could this happen?” Brock asked, sobbing.

  He heard Varius’ voice from the doorway. “She apparently took too much yellow sky. It’s been years since I’ve seen the drug here at all, let alone an overdose.”

  “Yellow sky?” he asked. “That doesn’t make sense. She was to meet me tonight. We were to work on something important to her. Why would she do that?”

  “I’m not sure, Brock. Perhaps she didn’t mean to take so much,” Varius replied. “While this appears to be an accident, we do need to investigate. That means I must ask you to leave. Again, I’m sorry for your loss.”

  Feeling numb, Brock stood and stumbled from the room.

  CHAPTER 50

  A cloud of depression hovered over Brock. He attended his classes and did the work assigned, but his heart wasn’t in it. If asked, he couldn’t tell you what lessons were taught during that time. His friends tried to console him but to no avail. He just had to work through it himself.

  On the ninth day after Amber’s death, Brock woke to a bird singing outside his window. He sat at the edge of his bed and rubbed the sleep from his eyes. Reaching over the desk, he pulled the curtain back to see an orange starfetch serenading the breaking dawn. He stared at the little bird who had interrupted his sleep. The bird looked so happy, singing without a care in the world. He envied the bird.

  But why? To not have a care, you first had to have nothing to care about. He realized that he would rather lose someone he cared about than never care at all. Suddenly, everything seemed better. He was still sad about Amber’s death, but he no longer felt it should affect his own life.

  He opened the wardrobe, dressed, and was out the door before Cameron even woke. When he stepped into the hallway, he noticed a soft blue glow coming from the lounge. Peeking in, he saw Benny sprawled on a sofa with a book on his chest. The fading light of the glowlamp meant it had not been activated in hours. Brock chuckled as a loud snore came from Benny.

  Walking over, he gave a light tap on Benny’s shoulder.

  “What?” Benny sat up, spectacles askew. “What’s that? Oh, Brock. I must’ve fallen asleep.” He straightened his eyewear. “What time is it?”

  Brock smiled at his confused friend. “The sun’s about to rise. Were you here all night?”

  “Um…yeah. I guess. I was working on our research late last night, and I must’ve dozed off.” Benny set the book next to the fading glowlamp.

  Brock had left the research to Benny while he worked through the loss of Amber. He now felt guilty for not helping his friend. The poor guy apparently stayed up late working on it alone.

  “Sorry that I haven’t been much help. I’ll do better now, I promise,” Brock said sincerely.

  Benny looked at him, concerned at first and then a smile bloomed. “You’re feeling better then?”

  “Yeah.” Brock nodded. “What have you found so far?”

  Benny’s smile faded, replaced by frustration. “Basically, nothing. They refer to it as the Wailing War, but nothing tells me why. The details on the war are vague at best as are any references to the Banished Horde. It’s as if they don’t want anyone to know anything about the Horde.”

  Brock’s brow furrowed. “Strange. How many of the books have you gone through?”

  Benny tapped the book. “This is the last one.”

  Brock stared at the book. “It guess we better make another trip to the library.”

  Benny stood and nodded. “That’s what I was thinking. But right now, I need to get changed and then get some breakfast.”

  Brock grabbed the glowlamp. “We can go to the library tomorrow then.”

  “What about tonight?” Benny asked as he walked toward his room.

  “Since we have tomorrow off, I thought you and Cam might want to join me for a little fun.”

  Benny smiled, his head bobbing up and down. “That sounds awesome. Where are we going?”

  Brock flashed a smile. “We’re going to visit an inn in Fallbrandt. We will leave tonight after class and should make it in time for dinner. The food is amazing. You’re going to love it.”

 
CHAPTER 51

  Brock was in good spirits as he strolled down the road toward Fallbrandt. It was a beautiful late-summer day. The sporadic strips of clouds overhead were glowing orange in the evening sun. A cool mountain breeze was sweeping away the heat of the day, making it perfect weather for travel. He was animated, waving his arms around as he relayed events from Paladin training to Benny.

  “…and then as Cam stood over Lars, staring down at his bloody face, Budakis steps in and shouts down at Lars, You’re not supposed to use your face to hit him you buffoon! You’re supposed to use your fists!”

  Benny squealed in laughter and reached up to slap Cam on the shoulder. Cam grinned sheepishly.

  After a moment, Benny calmed enough to speak. “That must have been a sight. I bet nobody ever knocked big ol’ Lars on his rump before.”

  Brock looked up at Cameron, still smiling. “I bet he never faced anyone like Cam before. He’s downright scary, and we don’t even have weapons yet.”

  Cameron shrugged. “I’m just doing my best to learn what I can to be a paladin. If Budakis wants me to fight, that’s what I do.”

  Brock looked at Cam again, serious this time. “You’ll be a frighteningly awesome paladin, Cam. I can’t believe someone your size can move that fast. It’s not fair.”

  “It doesn’t have to be fair, does it?” Cameron asked.

  Brock laughed. “No. No it doesn’t.”

  Benny jumped in front, walking backward to face them. “Okay, now let’s talk about the Catapult Challenge.” He grinned, rocking his shoulders side to side in his awkward way. “Nindlerod said that we’ll soon need to have a team of five for the contest. You guys will help me, right? I mean, I couldn’t do it without you.”

  Brock glanced at Cameron, who nodded, and then back at Benny. “Of course, Benny. Neither of us has the faintest idea how to build a catapult, but we’re happy to help.”

  A grin split Benny’s face, his eyes alight in excitement. “I’m telling you that we’re going to build the best catapult ever!” The smile slid from Benny’s face, and his eyes unfocused. “Most of all, I plan to beat that Karl Jarlish. He thinks he’s so special because his father invented the steam engine.”