The Buried Symbol (The Ruins of Issalia Book 1) (18 page)

He turned back to James.
“
What
’
s in the small cups?
”

“
That
’
s caffe, of course,
”
James replied.

“
Caffe? What
’
s that?
”
Tipper asked.
“
It looks like it
’
s served hot.
”

James leaned forward.
“
Yes, it
’
s served hot. It
’
s quite popular here in Fallbrandt. As for what it is, I think you have to try it to understand. I guess someone at the Academy invented it a few years back and soon became popular at the school. Soon after, Dory adopted it as an alternative to wine.
”
He stood upright, gesturing to himself.
“
However, I only drink it in the morning. I prefer wine with my dinner.
”

Brock glanced at Tipper, who shrugged.
“
I guess we
’
ll each try one of those
…
what did you call it? A calf?
”

James smiled.
“
Caffe. I
’
ll be right back
”

The man crossed to the other end of the bar and filled two small cups, steam rising from the liquid as he poured. Returning, he set them on the bar.

“
Careful, this is hot. If it
’
s too bitter, let me know, and I
’
ll add a little sweet milk to it. Dinner will be ready soon.
”

Brock nodded.
“
Thanks, James.
”

The man stepped away to help two women who were waving for his attention. He greeted the women with his engaging smile, holding one of their hands and oozing charm.

Brock picked up his cup, blowing to cool it. The drink had an interesting aroma. He took a small sip, the heat burning the tip of his tongue. Tipper laughed at the face Brock made after swallowing the bitter liquid. Tipper also took a small sip, his face yielding similar results.

A minute later, James returned.
“
So, what do you think?
”

“
I think we
’
ll accept your offer to add some of that milk. It is awfully bitter,
”
Brock replied.

“
That
’
s what I figured.
”
James left to fetch the milk.

When he returned, he poured a little milk into each cup and motioned for them to try it again. Brock took a sip, thankfully not burning his tongue this time. The taste was much better. It was still bitter, but only mildly so. Brock nodded in approval. Tipper did the same, so James left to wait on other customers.

Brock took another sip. While it wasn
’
t great, he was determined to learn to drink it. He wanted to fit in at the Academy when he was admitted. Not if, when.

A burst of laughter erupted from a nearby table, causing him to turn in that direction. Six women sat at the table. Five of them covered their mouths in laughter as Dory spanked the waiter. His rear was stuck up in the air with his back arched. When she finished, he turned and bowed to the women. Dory handed him two coppers, and he moved on to fill some glasses at another table.

Dory
’
s eyes met Brock
’
s. She smiled and stuck two fingers up, scooping them toward her. He picked up his cup and walked to the table as the laughter died down. Now all eyes were on him. Dory tapped the open seat next to her, bidding him to sit. He smiled and gave a nod to the women as he took his seat.

Dory introduced him.
“
This is Brock. He arrived today and is staying at the inn for a bit.
”

He smiled his best smile and greeted the group.
“
Hello ladies. I
’
m honored to be in the presence of such beauty.
”

His greeting scored him five glowing smiles. Dory was not so easily swayed, but she did give a nod as if he had done the right thing.

“
Brock, I assume you came here to join the Academy. Am I correct?
”
Dory asked.

He finished his sip of caffe and nodded.
“
Yes. I
’
m planning on going there tomorrow to meet with admissions. I didn
’
t see the Academy when I came into town today. I assume it
’
s a big building, right?
”

Dory laughed.
“
I would definitely categorize the Academy as a big building. However, you won
’
t find it here. It
’
s about an hour
’
s walk north of here.
”

He nodded again.
“
Well, it makes sense I didn
’
t see it then.
”

Dory put her hand on his arm.
“
Brock, will you please have some wine with us? I know caffe is wonderful, but wine is much better with dinner.
”

Not wanting to offend anyone, he agreed. Dory waved and the waiter set a stemmed glass on the table near Brock, filling it with deep red liquid. He had heard of wine, of course, but he hadn
’
t seen it before tonight. The taverns he frequented featured ale while wine was reserved for the finer inns in Kantar.

Dory lifted her glass for a toast.
“
To Brock. We wish him success on his quest for admission to the Academy.
”

Their glasses tapped together over the table before rising to their lips.

An explosion of flavor splashed into Brock
’
s mouth, warming his throat on the way down. The aftertaste was less bitter caffe. The warmth in his throat felt good, so he took another drink.

A soft hand touched his arm. He turned toward the pretty woman who sat in the seat next to him. At about five years older than Brock, she was absently twisting her long black hair with two fingers.

“
Brock, can you tell us where you come from? Did you have any adventures on your journey to Fallbrandt?
”
she asked as eagerness reflected in her large brown eyes.

Dory touched his other arm.
“
Yes, Brock. Tell us of your journey.
”

The wine began to affect him, causing his head to swim. He took another drink, the liquid warming him inside. It was odd how each drink seemed to make him want more. He cleared his throat before speaking.

“
I
’
m from Kantaria. It took the better part of two weeks for us to reach Fallbrandt.
”
He paused, remembering Tipper
’
s role in his charade.
“
My servant and I, that is.
”

He was feeling more confident. If these women wanted a story, he would tell one.
“
What began as a simple journey soon turned into one of adventure and peril.
”

He began by telling of how they had been offered a ride to the top of the eerie Glowridge pass, observing the awe-inspiring Whitecap Falls along the way. The ladies gasped in horror when he described the encounter with the banshee, a creature from nightmares. They cried out when he described Hank and the banshee falling to their deaths. Of course, he did not mention how Hank
’
s corpse had risen to fight the creature.

He paused as the waiter refilled their glasses. After taking a drink, he resumed his tale.

The women cringed as he described the harsh desert crossing, escaping the deadly winds of the sandstorm. Nodding heads and knowing eyes met his gaze when he told them of the hostility against Unchosen in Sarville. A look of relief crossed their faces when he mentioned how they had found shelter in a cave from the torrential rain. The look turned to horror when he told them of the beast that had attacked them in the cave.

Dory sat upright, her eyes wide.
“
Wait. What you describe is a bacabra. Few people see one and live to tell about it. How did you escape?
”

Brock
’
s mind raced.
“
Well, a boulder saved us,
”
he said in truth, before twisting it to a story he could tell.
“
We were able to roll it down the slope of the cave. Luckily, it clipped the beast
’
s shoulder and it left us to tend its wounds. Sensing our chance, we escaped from the cave and continued our journey.
”

“
And now, here we sit in this lovely inn, two days after the encounter with the
…
bacabra.
”
Brock concluded his story, capping it off by emptying his glass.

Dory began to clap. The other women followed suit, all clapping in applause. When the applause receded, Dory spoke again.

“
My, Brock. That was a wonderful tale. You must be favored by Issal to have survived such a perilous journey. Thank you for sharing it with us.
”
Dory paused as the other women nodded in agreement.
“
Ah, I see dinner is being served. Please stay and eat with us, won
’
t you?
”

As James and the waiter began to set plates on the table, Brock decided he had no choice but to accept. He glanced toward Tipper, who was already busy eating his food at the bar.

The fish was light and delightful. The vegetables were warm and juicy, yet still crisp. Overall, the dinner was delicious. The table conversation was engaging and unguarded. It was a wonderful night.

CHAPTER 28

It was a horrible morning. Brock felt dreadful. His head was pounding and the room tilted when he moved, causing his stomach to churn. Sunlight coming through the window made it that much worse.

He sipped water, wetting his dry mouth. Setting the glass back on the table, he resumed holding his head in his hands while sitting on the edge of the bed. Brock heard the door open, followed by Tipper
’
s voice.

“
It
’
s good to see you
’
re awake and alive.
”
Tipper sat on the bed opposite from Brock.

“
I
’
m kinda wishing I wasn
’
t alive right now. I feel terrible.
”
Brock
’
s words were muffled as he held his face in pain.

Tipper laughed.
“
I
’
m not surprised. You seemed to enjoy the wine last night. I realized you
’
d had quite a bit when you started dancing on the table.
”

He looked up at Tipper.
“
What?
”
He blinked, trying to recall the evening.
“
Now that you say it, I guess I vaguely remember that. I don
’
t seem to remember much of last night though. I know it started well with pleasant conversation and some wonderful food. Then it becomes muddled, like trying to see through a thick fog.
”

Tipper smiled at him.
“
Yeah, James told me you
’
d likely feel like this and not remember a whole lot. He and I got along well, having more than a few laughs as we watched your antics. Lucky for me, I stuck to caffe. It
’
s quite good you know...
”

Brock moaned,
“
Tip, stop torturing me and tell me what happened.
”

Tipper leaned back as he told the story.

“
Well, everything seemed to start fine when you joined the ladies at Dory
’
s table. You drank wine and spoke with them for a while. Then James and Garrett, he
’
s the waiter, brought dinner out, and I stopped watching while I ate my food. The fish was delicious and the vegetables were far better than any I
’
d had before. James told me that they were steamed. I wonder how they do that. They were hot and juicy, but still had a lot of flavor. I need to ask James next
…”

“
Tip!
”
Brock pleaded.
“
Please, just tell me what happened.
”