The Buried Symbol (The Ruins of Issalia Book 1) (6 page)

He opened the closet door again and drew his glowstick, activating it. With the added light, he spotted a small knothole in the floorboards. He put two fingers in the knothole and lifted. A trap door swung upward to expose steep wooden stairs leading into the darkness below. He drew his knife and descended into the cellar.

Holding his glowstick high, he realized that the cellar was empty. He turned and noticed a dark opening cut into the far wall. Two heavy posts and a crossbeam framed the opening, holding the earth in place around it.

He approached the doorway, the light from the glowstick revealing a tunnel just wide enough for two men. The tunnel sloped downward, likely going under the wall and out of the city. He crept down the tunnel, pausing when he heard noises ahead.

Hiding the glowstick in his coat, Brock could see faint light coming from around the tunnel bend. He crept forward and peeked around the corner. The narrow tunnel opened up to a larger gallery with another dark tunnel on the opposite end. A single glowlamp sat on the ground, lighting the cavern. Samson was in the center of the cavern, his back to Brock. He was standing over the bundle, speaking to his victim.

“…
and don
’
t worry. You won
’
t have to wait long. My friends will be here soon, and you
’
ll be safe on a ship before sunrise.
”
The minister reached down with a knife.
“
Now don
’
t move or you might get cut.
”

The knife sliced the twine binding the blanket wrapped around the kidnap victim. Samson then grabbed one end of the blanket and gave it a hard yank. The person in the bundle rolled away from him, out of the blanket and onto the cave floor.

Brock could see him lying face-down, his hands tied behind his back and gag tied around his head. The minister stepped closer and used his foot to roll the person onto his back.

That
’
s when Brock realized it was Tipper.

Emotion welled up in Brock
’
s chest. He burst in a run and charged the man, stabbing with his knife as he collided into the minister
’
s back. They flew over Tipper and tumbled to the cave floor. Their momentum caused the minister to roll on top of Brock, continuing so they rolled again to end with Brock on top and Samson beneath him face-down.

Brock regained his feet, ready to defend himself. Samson didn
’
t move. Brock noticed the knife sticking from the back of the man
’
s neck. He was dead.

He spun and ran to Tipper, pulling the gag from his mouth, down to his neck.

Tipper spat and coughed.
“
Boy am I glad to see you. I thought I was done for.
”

“
Are you okay?
”
Brock asked.

Tipper nodded.
“
I
’
ll live. Just cut me loose so we can get out of here.
”

Brock ran over to the minister to reclaim his knife. When reaching for the blade, he noticed something at the base of the man
’
s hairline. Parting the hair with his fingers, he saw a mark in the shape of a hand.

Shaking his head to refocus, he gripped the knife to pull it from the man
’
s neck, but it didn
’
t move. Using both hands for a better grip, he pulled harder and it came loose. As the knife slid out, it made a nasty slurping sound and blood spurted from the deep wound. Brock gagged, his stomach cramping as he turned to vomit. After emptying his stomach, he wiped the knife on the dead man
’
s cloak and ran back to cut Tipper loose. His hands were shaking as he sliced the bonds.

With his wrists free, Tipper sat up and rubbed them. He looked over at Samson
’
s body on the cave floor.
“
That bastard said I was taking a ship to go work in a mine for the rest of my life. I don
’
t know where, but it sounded horrible.
”

Tipper tried to stand, but stumbled. Brock leapt forward and grabbed his arm to steady him.

“
Are you sure you
’
re OK? You have a nasty lump on your head,
”
Brock said in concern.

Tipper nodded.
“
My head is pounding something fierce alright. Whoever hauled me here must
’
ve knocked me out. I think I
’
ll be okay though. Let
’
s go. I just want to get out of here.
”

Brock helped Tipper to the tunnel leading back to the house.

“
Wait here.
”
Brock leaned Tipper against the tunnel wall.

He ran to where Samson lay on the cavern floor. Searching through the dead man
’
s clothes, he found a money pouch and cut it loose. He poured the contents into his palm and counted four gold imperials and seven silvers. It was more than enough.

After replacing the coins, he slid the pouch into his coat pocket and ran back to where Tipper waited.
“
I almost forgot what I came for.
”

“
I thought you came for me,
”
Tipper gave a weak smile.

Brock grabbed his friend
’
s arm and hooked it over his shoulder.
“
I didn
’
t know it was you. I only knew it was some poor soul who needed help.
”

Tipper smiled again.
“
Well, it don
’
t matter to me. I
’
m just glad you showed up.
”

Brock nodded.
“
Me too, Tip. Now let
’
s go before Samson
’
s friends get here.
”

The two boys disappeared into the narrow tunnel, leaving the dead minister behind.

CHAPTER 8

Lively music danced in the air above the buzz of conversation. A white-bearded man strummed on a lute, patrons periodically dropping coppers into the bowl at his feet.

Approaching the bar, Brock spotted Alonzo on the same stool as their last meeting. The man was working on a bowl of potatoes and a half-eaten jackaroo leg. Claiming the stool next to Alonzo, Brock waved to the barkeep. The large man approached, raising an eyebrow.

Brock smiled.
“
I
’
ll have a cider.
”

The barkeep remained still, waiting until Brock placed a copper on the bar. Sweeping up the coin, the man turned to fill a mug and set it on the bar before moving on.

Brock took a long drink of the cider and turned to Alonzo.

“
Mister Alonzo, I have the five imperials. How soon can we do business?
”

Without looking at Brock, Alonzo finished the poultry leg, set the bone down, and wiped his mouth with his sleeve. He took a swig of his ale and set the tankard on the bar.

“
The night
’
s young, and I think we have an opening. If you
’
ve got the coin and the time, we can do it now,
”
Alonzo said.

He then shoveled a scoop of potatoes into his mouth, glancing toward Brock as he chewed. Bits of potato were caught in his brown beard. Alonzo
’
s piercing green eyes seemed to be measuring him.

Brock was surprised. He hadn
’
t expected it to happen tonight and he wasn
’
t even sure of what was coming. Regardless, he wasn
’
t about to let this chance slip by.

Brock nodded.
“
Now, it is then. I
’
m ready when you are.
”

Alonzo took one last swig of his ale, used his sleeve to wipe the bits of potato from his beard, and pushed away from the bar.

“
Let
’
s be off then.
”
Alonzo headed toward the exit.

Brock took a drink of his cider and hurried to catch the big man.

Alonzo stepped outside and turned toward the Lower Wall Gate with Brock close behind. The streets were all shadows now, the scattered clouds above showing a hint of red. They marched through the Lower Wall Gate into Upper Kantar. Shortly after passing through the gate, they turned onto a wide cross street.

Alonzo remained quiet, never looking to see if Brock still followed. He turned again at the next intersection to enter a white stone building. As Brock climbed the stairs to the entrance, he read the plaque engraved above the door:
Kantarian Art Institute
.

The interior was spacious with a dark marble floor and rows of round alabaster pillars supporting the high ceiling. The walls formed a series of alcoves, each lit by a small glowlamp illuminating a work of art. Some contained paintings displaying historic figures, majestic landscapes, or static objects. Others displayed marble statues carved into the likeness of legendary heroes or shaped into fearsome beasts.

Alonzo approached the reception desk.
“
Hello. I have an appointment with Mr. Bennett.
”

The girl searched the schedule on her desk. Brock noticed how her long black hair flowed over her bare pale shoulders when she leaned forward. Her elegant hand scanned the paper until her finger stopped.

She looked up with large brown eyes.
“
Yes. He
’
s scheduled to be in the drawing studio at this time. It
’
s on the second floor, third door on the left.
”

Alonzo thanked her and proceeded to the wide, curved stairwell. Brock nodded to her, smiling when she smiled back at him. She had a nice smile that made his heart race.

Still looking back at the girl as he walked toward the stairwell, he stubbed his toe on the first step and nearly fell. Recovering, he sped up the stairs to catch Alonzo.

When they reached the drawing studio, Brock counted eight people intensely sketching on large sheets of yellowed paper. Some were using charcoal while others were using ink. In the center of the room, a man dressed in armor was standing motionless. The man had a sword in one hand and a fierce look upon his face. Glancing at the nearest artist
’
s work, Brock noted that she had created a strong likeness of the subject.

Alonzo waved his hand to catch notice. A young man, whose long brown hair was tied in a tail, nodded and rolled his paper before sliding it into a tube. He snatched up his charcoal and headed to the door where Brock and Alonzo waited.

Alonzo apologized,
“
Sorry, Bennett. I know I
’
m a bit early.
”

“
That
’
s okay. I can always make time for someone with a commission,
”
Bennett replied.
“
Let
’
s head to my apartment, and we can discuss the job.
”

Bennett headed to the stairwell, descending to the first floor with Alonzo and Brock in tow. They walked out the back door of the gallery, crossed a wide alley, and entered a building located behind the institute.

They ascended the stairs to the second level and proceeded down a long hallway lined with doors. Bennett stopped at a door, opening it with a key tied to a cord around his neck. He entered, waving for Alonzo and Brock to follow. As Bennett closed the door, Brock surveyed the interior.

The small one-room apartment had a bed along one wall and a desk, a chest, and a variety of art supplies along the other walls. Two chairs sat in the middle of the room.

Bennett gestured for Brock to sit before he turned to rifle through his art supplies. As Bennett prepared himself, Alonzo addressed Brock.

“
Now that we
’
re here, there
’
s a matter of the commission that was promised. You need to pay before we perform the job.
”

Brock looked over at the man.
“
Yes, I have the gold.
”
He removed a pouch from an inside coat pocket and jingled it.
“
But I still don
’
t know what this gets me.
”

A rumble of a laugh burst from Alonzo.
“
Silly boy. You came all this way with all that gold and you don
’
t know what you
’
re buying?
”
Shaking his head, he laughed again.
“
You said you wanted a new life. Well, there
’
s only one way to get that as far as I know.
”
He pointed a finger at Brock.
“
You, my boy, need a rune to mark you for your new vocation. You just need to choose one first. Of course, this won
’
t please Issal much since the mark won
’
t be from a true Choosing, but I figure you can
’
t make your lot in life any worse. The way I see it, you
’
ve got nothing to lose except five gold coins.
”
He laughed at his own joke.