The Buried Symbol (The Ruins of Issalia Book 1) (55 page)

Benny smiled.
“
For the moment of truth. Get on and give it a try,
”
he said, looking at Brock.

“
Me? Why me?
”
Brock asked.

Benny pointed at Cam.
“
Well,
he
certainly isn
’
t going to fit on it. We didn
’
t make it for giants. As for me, I need to observe. Plus, you
’
re more athletic and will likely fare better than me.
”

“
Benny, this is your invention. You should have the honor of the first ride,
”
Brock replied.

Benny shook his head.
“
It may have been my idea, but it wouldn
’
t exist without your help. You and Cam have spent just as much time building it as I have. No, Brock. I think you deserve the honor of the first ride.
”

Brock rolled his eyes.
“
Fine. I
’
ll test your crazy invention. But if I get injured, you have to run and find a healer.
”

With Cam holding it upright, Brock swung a leg over the top pipe and sat on the wooden seat.

Benny stepped opposite of where Cam stood.
“
Now put your feet on the crank pedals and hold onto the cross-bar; it will allow you to turn. When I count to three, Cam and I will start pushing. You try to keep it from tipping over, and we
’
ll let go once it
’
s rolling. When we let go, turn the crank hard to keep going.
”

Brock nodded and Benny counted down.
“
Three, two, one, go!
”

As they began pushing, Brock
’
s feet began to rotate with the pedals. The faster they pushed, the faster his feet rotated. The thing wiggled and shook as he tried to keep his balance. When he rounded the corner toward the front lawn, Benny and Cameron let go.

He turned the crank, pumping his legs and gaining speed. Thrilled, he began to laugh. He heard Benny yell something from behind. As the slope increased, he went faster.

The road took a sharp bend up ahead. Realizing he was moving too fast, he attempted to slow but the wheel attached to the crank had too much momentum. He took his feet off the pedals, holding them up as the thing sped toward the bend. Without a way to slow or stop, he didn
’
t know what to do.

“
I can
’
t stop!
”
He shouted as he sped off the road onto the lawn.

His rear bounced violently on the wooden seat, his teeth chattering from the vibration. He was heading toward a clump of trees, their branches filled with newly budded leaves. Leaning to one side, he turned the front wheel just enough to avoid a big tree. However, he flew off the seat when the wheels bounced over a large root near the trunk. He landed hard on the seat, and one hand slipped off the crossbar. The front wheel turned sharp, grabbing the turf violently. While the contraption stopped, Brock
’
s momentum did not. He was launched into the air, over the crossbar. The world spun as he rotated, landing on his lower back and rolling forward another rotation.

Brock lay on his back as he stared up at the scattered clouds in the pale blue sky. Long strands of grass surrounded him, tickling his cheeks in the light breeze. He heard the sound of footsteps rapidly approaching

Cam soon appeared in his field of vision, stopping to look down at him.
“
Are you okay, Brock? Should I go get a healer?
”

“
How do I let Benny talk me into this stuff?
”
Brock replied, lifting one arm.
“
Help me up.
”

Cam grabbed his hand and yanked him to his feet.

Brock
’
s fingers raked grass from his hair as Benny came running in.

Reaching them, Benny stopped, breathing heavily.
“
Brock. I
’
m glad you
’
re okay.
”
He took a couple breaths.
“
What happened? What went wrong?
”

Brock snorted.
“
Well, a few things actually.
”
He raised one finger at a time as he recited his complaints.
“
First, there
’
s no way to stop. Once I got going, I couldn
’
t slow enough to make that sharp turn. Second, there
’
s no place to put my feet if I take them off those pedals that keep spinning. Third, the seat is hard and gave my rear a sound beating on every bump. Lastly, I made the mistake of letting you talk me into testing out
your
crazy contraption.
”

Benny nodded as Brock spoke until the last statement.
“
Don
’
t worry, Brock. I
’
ll make some changes, and it
’
ll be better next time.
”

“
Oh no,
”
Brock replied, shaking his head.
“
I
’
m not riding this thing again until you can prove it
’
s safe.
”

As he walked away, Brock shouted over his shoulder.
“
I
’
m going to find Ashland. I told her I
’
d spend the day with her when I was done here.
”

Benny and Cam stood next to the crashed contraption, watching Brock walk away with one hand rubbing his rear.

CHAPTER 87

Brock and Ashland rested on the front lawn, not far from the site of his recent crash. The blanket they sat on offered little comfort for his sore backside. Her laughter echoed through the area as he told his story.

“
And so I lay on the lawn, not far from here, and stared up at the clouds thinking of how Benny almost killed me with his crazy contraption.
”

He reached into the basket for another hard roll, ripping off a chunk to eat.

Ashland was finally able to recover from her laughter.
“
So you didn
’
t break anything? You didn
’
t need to be healed, right?
”
Ashland asked.

Brock snorted.
“
Somehow, no. I have some bruises and it hurts to sit, but most of the damage was emotional.
”

He paused, distracted.

Corbin and his group were walking down a nearby path. Corbin was glaring at Brock, hate smoldering in his eyes. Brock locked eyes with him until they crossed behind a clump of trees.

Ashland noticed Brock
’
s change in demeanor and turned to see what had distracted him. Once Corbin was out of sight, she commented.

“
He hates you, doesn
’
t he?
”

He nodded.
“
Yes. He has since my first day here.
”

She put her hand on his.
“
I can
’
t see why. You
’
re the most loveable person I know.
”
She smiled.
“
I sure love you.
”

Brock smiled back.
“
I wish that were the case with everyone.
”
He stared off at where he last saw Corbin.
“
I think he
’
s gone through life with everyone kissing his feet, always bending to his will. I refuse to do those things for someone I don
’
t respect. I think it eats him up inside.
”
He paused, reflecting on issue.
“
Then, I beat him in the Arena and
…
well
…
you know.
”

She nodded.
“
Yes. I know. His tongue will never heal. I suppose it reminds him on a daily basis, making it even worse.
”

Brock nodded.
“
Yeah. Parker said that Corbin is now so bad that he
’
s scaring the others. They
’
re afraid of what he might do.
”

Ashland looped her arm around his, pulling him close as she leaned in for a kiss.

“
Let
’
s not worry about him for now. Let
’
s enjoy this beautiful evening together,
”
she said.

He smiled.
“
Any evening I spend with you is beautiful.
”

She smiled back.
“
Thank you, Brock.
”
Her smile faded. Something else was on her mind.
“
School ends in a few weeks. Have you thought about what you
’
ll do during the break? Where you
’
ll go?
”

He shook his head.
“
No. I hadn
’
t thought about it all.
”

Looking down at the blanket, she asked timidly,
“
Would you like to spend it with me? That is, if you don
’
t have to go home or have other
…”

He interrupted,
“
I
’
d love to spend it with you. I don
’
t care where we are if we
’
re together.
”

Smiling, she leaned in for another kiss. When she pulled away, she gazed into his eyes. She reached up to put her hand on his forehead, closing her eyes.

For a moment, he didn
’
t think anything of it. Panic struck when he realized what she was doing. He still hadn
’
t figured out how to tell her he was Unchosen.

Her eyes flashed open. She yanked her hand back, recoiling from him. Her hands covered her mouth as horror reflected in her eyes.

“
No!
”
She cried out.
“
No, it can
’
t be!
”

She scrambled to her feet and backed away from him.

“
Ashland, I
’
m sorry. I
…
didn
’
t know how to tell you,
”
he said.

She turned and fled.

“
Wait!
”
He stood to run after her.
“
Ashland, come back!
”

He stopped, watching her run across the lawn toward the school. His heart felt as if it were in his throat. After everything he had gone through, being Unchosen was still ruining his life.

He slowly walked back, distracted as his mind scrambled for a way to fix things. Gathering up the remains from their evening picnic, he headed back to the school.

.   .   .

Brock needed to find Ashland. He needed to show her that he was who she thought he was and that being Unchosen shouldn
’
t matter.

He checked her room, but the door was locked with no answer to his repeated knocks. Rapidly descending the stairs, he headed toward the Training Temple.

When he opened the Training Temple door, he found it empty. A single glowlamp illuminated the dais in the otherwise dark room. To be sure, he approached the dais, searching for signs of Ashland. Oddly, the glowlamp was on the floor, tipped on its side. He lifted the lamp, setting it back on the altar.

Brock!
He looked around the room. Had he heard his name?

Brock! Help!
There it was again. It sounded like Ashland, but the voice was in his head. He closed his eyes and shouted with his mind.
Where are you?

After a moment, he heard it again.
The Foundry! Come quick!

His eyes flashed open. Leaping from the dais, he ran out the door. He sped down the dark empty halls, yanking the Foundry door open before darting inside.

It was dark and appeared deserted. A scream sounded from across the long building. Brock burst into a sprint toward the sound, his eyes searching desperately. Near a burning forge, he noticed a dark silhouette.