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

Chapter Twenty-One

Damien Vennar liked what they had done with the place. The last few centuries of renovations had left the interior of Ennd's Academy almost unrecognizable, but most of the changes were nice. He was not sure that he would have gone for the same decor; the steel-gray was unpleasantly sterile, but the beige sandstone was enough to offset that feeling.

The dining hall was behind him, and he was not sure where he was headed now. Once upon a time, the dining hall had been connected to the primary research laboratories, but that was no longer the case. He was amazed that there were no other people nearby, but he was glad for it.

Other people would complicate things, and he felt a twinge of sadness as he thought of Swarley Dann's corpse wrapped in vines on the botanical terrace. He was not sad for Swarley, though; the boy was an acceptable casualty. Years of doing his job and playing the role he carved out for himself had hardened Damien to casual loss of life. One thing he had learned through the years was that some people just got in the way of his plans and had to be removed before they became even greater complications. Swarley had come out of class early and become a complication. Damien did not regret taking a life to fulfill a mission.

Yet, he felt ashamed. He was ashamed because Swarley had been one of his grandson's best friends. He was ashamed because he had taken advantage of one of Ceril's relationships to further his own plans. When he killed one of his grandson's only friends, he had crossed a line.

He did not regret crossing it; he was just ashamed that he did. But if he were in the same situation again, he would do the same thing. Still, he was ashamed of what this news might do to Ceril if he ever found out.

Damien promised himself he would never let that happen.

A voice from behind him interrupted his thoughts. "Excuse me, sir?" said a young girl. She was no older than Ceril had been when Damien had last seen him. She was maybe thirteen or fourteen years old, with copper hair pulled back into pigtails, freckles, and blue eyes. Damien was a tall man, and this girl came to just barely above his navel.

He whipped around to meet her, prepared to remove another complication to his plans. He waited a moment and said, "Yes?"

"I'm sorry to bother you, sir, and I know I'm probably going to get into trouble for this, but could you tell me how to get back to the Phase II dormitories?"

"What?"

"I know, sir. It's been the better part of a year already, but I keep getting turned around in the halls and losing my bearings. My mom says I was never very good at finding my way around and that she was amazed I even got through Phase I. I went to dinner in the dining halls with my friends, but I had to leave early because I have to take a final that none of them have to take, so I thought I would cut through this way because I think I remember someone telling me that I could get back there by this hallway, but I'm not so sure. I think I might have taken the wrong corridor from the one they pointed out because I don't remember these colors being in the girls' side. The boys, sure, but the girls? I think I'm lost." She finally shut up when she had to take a breath.

Damien looked at the young girl and smiled. "I'm not sure I would be the best person to help you find your way back, to be honest, miss. If I had to guess, though, you could continue down this hall until you find someone who could. Maybe a professor or another student."

"You're not a professor?" she asked, and he shook his head. "I'm amazed at that, sir. You look like you belong here. I don't know why, but you do. Thanks anyway. If you're not a professor, are you a student? Do they take older people—no offense—to be students at Ennd's? If they do, then I haven't ever heard about it."

"I'm not a student, either, my dear," Damien said. "I'm a...a consultant. I am trying to find my way back to Headmaster Squalt's office."

"So you're lost, too?" she asked.