The Academy - Book III

Chapter Forty One

Chapter Forty One

The Gold District - Outside the High Council Meeting Room

Dion followed a short distance behind Malcolm, his eyes burrowed into the back of Malcolm's head as they wound their way through more twist and turns.  "This seems repetitious and long for no reason," mumbled Dion as they turned down another, ivory and muted gold, endlessly long corridor.

"You think so," asked Malcolm sarcastically.   Malcolm hid a mischievous smile as he paused and turned to stare at Dion.

"I do," snapped Dion annoyed.  He waved toward a group of white furry looking flowers with bubbled red centers*, “We've walked past that same group of flowers five times and that hideous painting."

Malcolm turned and gazed at the picture of the first ever first chair, Sevan Savanovic, and chuckled.  "You find that picture creepy?"

"Duh," responded Dion flippantly.  "His blood red eyes are following us and what's with his complexion?"  Dion shuddered,  "He looks almost dead in that picture."

Malcolm stared intrigued at Dion.  He walked up to him and searched his eyes quizzically before he stepped back with a slight frown.  "I'm surprised you noticed that.  I know that the spell I weaved should have left you clueless to the fact we've been going in circles."

Dion gave a nonchalant wave of his hand,  "That type of illustration doesn't work right on me.  I can see past most of its deception.  Those flowers for instance, “Dion pointed to the white furry flowers “wouldn't register to me as being different."  He walked over to the blooms and touched one.

"Ah," nodded Malcolm as he pointed to a door they'd walked past eight times.  "That's the door to the council room but we are about fifteen minutes early."

Dion shrugged as he looked around, "Why don’t we just sit down and wait for the door to be unlocked?"

Malcolm chuckled, "The doors aren't locked we're just early."

"Then why don't we just go in," asked Dion impatiently.

Malcolm lips curled into a smile, "I don't want to seem too anxious."

Dion tilted his head at Malcolm and stared at him with an 'are you serious' expression before he scratched his wavy brownish red head.  "You do know," drawled Dion as he looked up and down the corridor, "that you already appear too anxious because you're the first one here stalking the door."

"Oh," pouted Malcolm as he looked around.  "I never thought of that."

"Really," smirked Dion.  "I guess my biological mother received all the brains in the family."

Malcolm shook his head as he chuckled, "Sasha was very intelligent and I remember how she was always able to learn quickly. But when it came to people she was dumber than a box of pebbles on a stony brook."

Dion eyebrows knitted together, "That makes no sense!"

"Exactly," smiled Malcolm.  "Sasha's lack of awareness made no sense at all.  She was a horrible judge of character."

Dion shrugged unconcerned with Malcolm's words.  "I believe I'm a pretty good judge of character." Dion looked up the hall to see a tall, caramel complexioned, fair haired man stroll toward them.  "I know that he is not the first or second chair, or either of their heirs.  I talk to Declan a lot and know that his father recently had a mishap at the salon and his hair is rainbow colored.  So that leaves him to be the third chair that I've never heard much about."

Malcolm mouth fell open as he stared in shock at Dion.  "Young man-."

"I prefer Dion," interrupted Dion.  He wore a proud smile as he looked at the shocked, disbelieving Malcolm.  "And as I said I'm a good judge of character."