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

Chapter Eleven

"Yes, Ceril. Your grandfather."

Ceril blinked. "Here? On...the Sigil?"

Roman nodded curtly. 'Yes. And his name is Damien Vennar."

"Vennar?" the young man asked.

"Mmm hmmm."

"Like from the stories? You can't be serious..."

"The stories are a bit exaggerated," Roman said.

"I would hope so," Ceril said, "if they're about Gramps. I mean, those are old, Roman. Gramps can't be that Vennar."

"I thought you two were close."

"We were—we are—" Ceril corrected, "but he never told me his name." It sounded stupid when he said it aloud. It made him question his relationship with Gramps. "When I was younger, I thought it was fun, like a game. I'd yammer for hours, rattling off different combinations of names trying to guess, and he would always respond the same way."

Ceril cleared his throat and gruffed his voice: "Ceril, I am your Gramps. I have always been your Gramps, and I will always be your Gramps. I've been called other names by other people, but none of them suit me as well or make me as happy as when you call me Gramps. So keep on guessing, but you already know the only name you'll get me to answer to."

Ceril continued, returning to his normal cadence, "And that's all I would ever get out of him. The older I got, the more I just assumed there was a part of his past he wanted to keep separate from his family. You know, when I was a kid, I even made up a story about him being an assassin for a king." Bryt and Roman shared a look, and Ceril wondered if that silly little story he had made up as a child was closer to the truth than he was comfortable with. "I just kind of figured that since he was my dad's dad that we had the same last name. If I'm Ceril Bain, he had to be a Bain, too. Guess not."

Bryt shook his head. "If I recall correctly, your grandfather adopted the surname Bain when he left the Archive. It makes sense he would pass it down as he tried to distance himself from us. Still, though, Ceril, I think we may need your help in getting your Gramps here to fix his mess."

"His mess? How is any of this his mess?" Ceril asked. "I don't mean to be rude, sir, or sound dumb, but I'm not quite following everything going on right now."

A new voice came from behind him, "And you shouldn't have to, Ceril. Had you done what we asked of you, none of us would be having this conversation. We would still have this problem, certainly, but we would be one hell of a lot closer to fixing it if you had simply shown up on time."

Ceril whipped around to see Professor Nephil come into the meeting room.

"Meeting's over, I take it?" Roman asked.

"Quite over. We're going to have a bit of a situation on our hands soon, Roman."

"I don't doubt it."

"I was able to pacify them, I think," Nephil said. "They calmed down considerably when I told them that every so often, the ship has to make a routine maintenance stop. I said that a slight miscalculation had forced us to make this stop early and that the ship would re-establish its connection to Erlon once everything is in order." At hearing this, Roman cringed, but Nephil continued, "Which is not a lie, my old friend. Once we re-establish, we will be back on our way."

"Yes, that is true," Roman said, "but do you have any idea how to do that?"

"I have a few ideas," Nephil said, though his voice betrayed his confidence.