Birthright (The Technomage Archive, Book 1) - Complete Novel

Chapter Nine

Ceril could hear voices outside his door.

He summoned his Flameblade and held it behind his back as he went to investigate. There were a lot of voices, which told him something was probably very wrong. Most of the time, he might hear a few people during the morning chattering away as they went to breakfast or to the gym, but it would take a lot more than just a few people having a conversation to make the commotion he heard. He saw a throng of both Recruits and professors running down the hall. The only thing that was in that direction was the Instance room. He dismissed his Flameblade and stepped back into his quarters to get dressed, and as he passed his desk, he saw the time.

0713

Oh, that's lovely, Ceril thought. Roman had told him to be ready for his mission—his first Rite—at 0600 sharp. He had overslept by an hour, which meant that he had already missed his briefing and subsequently his departure, since that would be half an hour after the briefing. He was a dead man.

Add in whatever was causing this commotion, and he figured that it was going to be a pretty interesting day. Ceril did not care for interesting days. Since his recruitment as a Charon, he had had more than his share of interesting days. Most of the time, he just wanted to skirt by and finish his work.

By the time he was dressed and ready to leave his quarters, Ceril was part of the final few making their way down the corridor.

A pale blonde ponytail bobbed up and down in front of him. "Hey, Saryn," Ceril said as he came up behind his friend. "Running late?"

She turned toward him, puzzled. "Ceril?" she asked. "What are you doing back here? I figured you'd be first in line for this."

He cleared his throat. "Yeah, I think I was supposed to be. I must have forgotten to set an alarm last night because I was supposed to be up over two hours ago and at my briefing at oh-six. Roman said this one was important, like Rites important, and I'm pretty sure that I screwed myself this time."

"Rites? He told you about your Rites starting?"

"Yeah. I gave Roman my thesis last night—"

"Congratulations, Ternia!" she said and slapped him hard on the back. "I'm jealous."

Ceril couldn't help but grin. Their friendship—and personalities—often centered on them being from opposite ends of Erlon. Like Ceril, Ternia was mild. It was a temperate and sunny agricultural oasis, while Saryn and Yagh were just the opposite: dry and often unforgiving.

"When aren't you jealous of me?" he teased. She slapped his back again, harder. "Oww! Saryn, stop."

"Oh, lighten up," she said. "You're so delicate."

He smiled. "Don't tell Bryt that, or he'll make me spend another few hours in the tanks."

"Tempting..." she said.

"Shut up. Anyway, what's going on here?"

"Well," she said, "right now, you, I, and almost everyone else on board the Sigil, are about to find out just what happens when the ship's Instancing connection is severed and we drop from hyperspace simultaneously."

The past few years of training had really educated Ceril. He learned things during his time on the ship that he never would have thought possible, but he had also realized early on that Saryn was always going to be a little ahead of him no matter what he did—except for finishing her thesis. At that moment, though, he had absolutely no idea what Saryn was talking about. She was never that far ahead of him.

"What are you talking about?" he asked. "Lost what connection? And we're out of hyperspace?" Was the blur gone from his window? Did he even look today? He didn't think he had. He was too caught up in being late. He took it for granted that it was always there, so he hadn't thought to steal a glance in his panic this morning.