The Buried Symbol (The Ruins of Issalia Book 1) Read Online Free Page A

squinting to assess Brock before responding. Brock noted the rune of Mercator on the man ’ s forehead, marking him as a trader.
    “ Might be. It depends on why you ’ re asking, ” the man responded.
    Without taking his eyes from Brock, he took a swig of ale.
    Brock replied, “ My aunt suggested I seek out Alonzo at this inn. She said he could help improve my situation. ”
    Brock brought his hand up to his forehead to ensure Alonzo understood his meaning. Alonzo ’ s eyes followed his hand, obviously noting the lack of a rune.
    “ Might be that I can be of assistance, but it ain ’ t free. ” Alonzo took another drink, setting the mug back on the bar. “ I ’ ll be needin ’ five imperials. ”
    Brock sighed. He only had two imperials and nine silver marks left. The rest had gone to pay the medicus for Ellie.
    Brock responded, “ Okay, but I need a little time to pull that much together. Where can I find you? ”
    Alonzo smiled. “ I ’ m right here every night. When you get the gold, come see me and we ’ ll do business. ”
    Brock slid off the barstool, motioning for Tipper to follow as he headed out the door. Once outside, he began walking back toward Southgate.
    Tipper caught up to him. “ What was that about? What did you mean when you said he has a way to improve your situation? What situation? ”
    “ This life, Tipper. The situation of this dead-end life, ” Brock replied.

CHAPTER 5
     
    Brock needed more gold and only knew one way to get it.
    About halfway to Southgate, he and Tipper ducked into a dark alley. Once beyond the mouth of the narrow corridor, they put their backs to a wall and watched the alley entrance. Confirming they weren ’ t followed, Brock tugged on Tipper ’ s sleeve and continued.
    They crossed a dark intersection, circling around the trash and old barrels that had been discarded there. The alley soon terminated at a stone wall, creating a dead end. Brock put his hands on the wall and began feeling the stones. He could barely see the wall in the darkness, but that was irrelevant. Even in the light of day, you needed to feel with your hands to find the trigger. After a bit, he found a stone with a pattern of five shallow dimples.
    He leaned against the stone, feeling it sink into the wall. A distinct click sounded as a section of the wall began to move with the force applied. A door cut into the wall swung open. The rank stench of human waste wafted from the pitch-black space within.
    Brock stepped inside and removed his glowstick. Once activated, the blue light illuminated the upper portion of a stairwell that led into inky darkness. With Tipper close behind, Brock began his descent. In the dim light of the glowstick, they could barely see the far wall of the sewer tunnel, fifteen feet away. A thud sounded when the stone door behind them closed, echoing in the quiet tunnels.
    Reaching the bottom of the stairs, they continued down the tunnel, carefully navigating the narrow brick ledge that ran along the wall. They soon heard a dull roar ahead, the noise growing louder as they drew closer. Reaching a recessed door in the side of the tunnel, Brock knocked five times. After a couple seconds, he opened the door and light poured into the tunnel.
    The dull roar instantly transformed to the rumble of loud conversation. Big Ed nodded as they entered. He then set his cudgel back on the floor, leaning it against the wall near his stool. The bouncer crossed his beefy arms and resumed monitoring the crowd.
    Patrons sitting at tables were chatting, eating, and drinking. A man in one corner was celebrating a winning dice throw, hooting and jumping around. Two intoxicated men were harassing a pretty waitress as she deftly swatted groping hands from the curves of her body.
    These were common traits found in any taproom in Lower Kantar. However, this was no ordinary taproom.
    For one thing, nobody in the room had a rune on his or her forehead. This place was a secret refuge for Unchosen. It