Page 19 of Queen’s Griffon (Swords & Tiaras #2)

Chapter 18

Griff

The mist moistened the skin and dampened Griff’s clothes. The tinge of rotted egg permeating the air made him flashback to the last time he’d been this close to Verlora. It had been much noisier with people screaming and the creaking of ships as they sailed from the disaster. The air stunk of smoke back then, too, the ashy haze around the continent carrying along the acrid stench from the fires that sprang up because of the lava bombs.

The eerie silence wasn’t an improvement.

He and his companions didn’t speak much—actually, at all. It could have been the fear of the unknown abetted by the fog that concealed everything from view. More likely, they remained stunned by the revelation of the dragon.

Griff had theorized for years that one plagued Verlora but to actually see it…

The sheer size of the beast.

The way it flew, its wingspan wider than his ship.

The strength that allowed it to carry a kraken.

It awed. Terrified. Roused curiosity. A plethora of emotions assailed Griff at seeing the true threat to his homeland. At least now they knew why no one who visited ever returned. A dragon of that girth probably ate a fair amount of meat, which led to him wondering, how could he kill it and free Verlora?

Then again, should he?

This was a dragon. A creature of myth. A rarity.

A predator that hunted humans.

“Are we going the right way?” whispered Simhi, who manned the oar behind him. They all had one, stroking in tandem, the skiff advancing into the mist.

“I don’t know.” Could be they rowed in circles. There was no way to tell. Griff currently guided them on an instinct he couldn’t explain.

“Think there’s more krakens in the water?” Monty kept eyeing the water suspiciously.

“They’re fairly territorial, so not likely,” Griff replied. Once the young got to a certain age and size, the mother chased them away.

“Could be something else hiding in the water,” opined Mohan, a sailor from Okkilam with tracking skills who’d volunteered to come.

“Not helping,” Simhi grumbled. She had her bow strapped to her back, although, as she’d complained earlier, “Doubt a dragon will feel my arrows.”

Most likely correct. Legends indicated dragons had a leathery hide tougher than even the sharpest blades could penetrate. Would his sword of wolfframm be an exception?

“Is it me, or is it getting brighter?” Monty exclaimed.

His observation had them all straightening. Indeed, the mist thinned enough that Griff spotted a post jutting from the water, the top of it splintered, but a sign they neared land.

“I think we managed to find our way to the old pier,” Griff announced. Verlora only had one large bay for ships. The other approaches to the continent were too shallow for anything but small boats with flat bottoms.

The sight of the dock’s remains renewed their flagging energy and spirits. They rowed faster, weaving through the rotted posts that had lost their planks. As they neared the continent itself, the seawall comprised of big concrete blocks appeared intact, if slimed with algae.

“How are we supposed to get up?” Simhi asked as Griff brought them alongside, the low tide leaving them well below the wall’s lip.

“We look for a break or the end of it.”

They paddled quietly. The mist still clung in patches, reducing visibility. It also muffled sound. He had to wonder what lurked beyond the seawall, lying in wait, perhaps even tracking their movement.

They came across some stairs that led down to the water, pitted in spots, but usable. Even better, a small, rusted ring remained tethered in the concrete, a substance not seen in use anywhere else as they’d lost the ability to make the liquid rock that hardened. So much had been forgotten when his people fled Verlora. Of the tens of thousands that used to live on the continent, only a few hundred remained scattered around the world.

Griff went up the steps first, sword in hand, senses attuned to his surroundings, listening for even the slightest whisper of sound. He heard nothing.

As they moved away from the pier area, and the steam rising from the water, the true extent of damage—some caused by the volcano, the rest by abandonment—revealed itself. The warehouses that lined the shore remained mostly standing, built sturdy enough to endure storms and the decay of time. The windows, however, had shattered. Those with wooden roofs sagged in places, although the concrete and steel versions appeared to have fared well. The once clean paths and roads were littered with debris that included the bleached bones of those who didn’t make it to a boat. Griff’s chest squeezed at seeing a tiny skeleton alongside that of a larger one. So many never managed to escape.

Each step they took kicked up puffs of dust. Simhi looked more serious than he could ever recall seeing.

She glanced all around before murmuring, “Sitnalta was so big.”

“It was. One of the biggest cities in the world.” Only the Merisu emperor’s capital might be larger.

“Doesn’t seem like anyone’s been through here,” Mohan remarked, crouching to observe the ground. “Not seeing any footprints. Not much pawprints either.”

“The gases might account for much of the death,” Griff stated. “People inhaling it in high concentrations would have been poisoned, and that includes any wildlife.” Collapsed buildings and the fissures would have accounted for some of the losses as well. Add in a dragon and Griff doubted they’d find any survivors which caused a pang of disappointment. It would seem the little boy within hadn’t entirely let go of the hope he’d find his father alive.

“Which way should we go?” Monty asked. “The city is huge. Finding the queen will be quite the task.”

“She’ll be looking for the stones Basil took from Daerva,” Griff stated. “Which means she’ll be heading for the lab which can be found in the base of Mount Etna.”

Simhi’s lips pursed. “If the scientists caused the volcano to blow, wouldn’t it have been the first place destroyed?”

“Maybe. Maybe not. Volcanoes aren’t predictable in their destruction.” He waved a hand. “The street we’re standing on remains intact and yet one block over,” he pivoted to point elsewhere, “it’s completely buried in volcanic rock.”

“Will she even know how to find it?” Monty queried.

“Avera spent a bunch of time studying everything she could about Verlora,” Simhi replied. “A few of the books had some sketches of the city so she should have a basic idea of where things are.”

“Assuming she makes it to the city.” Mohan’s more ominous addition.

Griff’s jaw clenched. While Mohan had a point, he didn’t appreciate it.

Neither did Monty, for he huffed, “The queen is tough, and apart from the dragon, doesn’t seem like there’s much else around here to worry about.”

“Said every sailor before us,” muttered Mohan. “Just because things seem uninhabited, doesn’t mean there’s not something lurking. With an aerial predator, I imagine anything that survived is either inside the buildings or underground.” A comment that had them looking at their feet.

“I think it goes without saying stay sharp, remain close, and watch where you step.” Griff tapped a crackling part of the pavement and leaned back as parts of it collapsed, creating a hole. “Given the heat of the water in the bay, we should assume the lava’s been tunneling below the city.”

“Meaning we should treat the ground as if it were ice that might crack at any moment,” Simhi added. “Got it. Don’t mind me if I don’t walk close to you big lads.”

“Are you calling me fat?” Monty huffed.

Her lips curved. “You are twice my size.”

“Because of muscle,” he boasted, flexing an arm.

“If you say so,” she sang, heading off adjacent to them, her steps light.

“Simhi has a point. We shouldn’t cluster lest our combined weight prove too much for any weak spots,” Griff agreed.

Mohan ranged ahead, Monty went left, and Griff stayed back, his nape prickling. Why did it feel as if he was being watched?

The eerie silent city pressed down ominously. It left Griff tense and jumpy. He wasn’t alone. When Simhi scuffed her foot, both Mohan and Monty reacted by whirling abruptly.

“Sorry,” she muttered.

As they walked past buildings, some with their doors gaping wide open, Griff couldn’t help but wonder what remained inside. Would he really not peek? He’d spent decades thinking about the home he’d left. Fantasizing about his return.

Seeing a building that still held part of its sign, Emporium of Curiosities, he stopped suddenly. “I’m going in for a look,” he announced.

“Did you hear something?” Mohan asked.

“No. I want to see what, if anything, is left.”

“Why?” Simhi questioned with a tilt of her head.

“If we can salvage anything, the funds would benefit Saarpira.” Not a complete lie. Verlorian artifacts would fetch a decent amount of coin. But he also wanted another question answered. Had all those who’d come ashore truly never left? He had his doubts. After all, Verlorian artifacts kept turning up on the market which he’d found odd. Sure, it was possible those who owned some pre-cataclysm kept selling them off and traders snatched them for resale, however, by this point, he’d have expected most folks to hold on to the antiques. Yet, new items kept cropping up.

Griff entered the Emporium, a place he’d loved to visit as a child. Not usually to buy—his father never gave him enough coinage for that. However, he did enjoy the bustle of the store that catered to foreigners looking for intriguing gadgets.

Upon entering, it quickly became evident someone had emptied the place out. Display cases had been shattered, their contents missing. Shelves upon shelves gaped, covered in dust and nothing else. He walked further into the building, finding the same in every section he checked. The second floor, reserved for unique garments, showed the least pilfering, the fabric left to rot in piles and tattering on the wooden mannequins.

He emerged to find Simhi staring off at the mountain, Mohan sitting with his back leaning on a wall, eyes closed napping, but Monty waited by the door.

“So?” Monty asked.

“Someone’s definitely been here,” Griff stated. “The store is cleared out.”

“Doesn’t mean the thief escaped with the goods,” Monty commented.

Griff pointed back the way they came. “It would have been easy with the bay close by.”

“Just because someone docked doesn’t mean they left. We passed plenty of bodies,” Monty reminded.

“But not sacks or crates. The corpses we’ve seen thus far had nothing on them which makes no sense. I remember that just about everyone I saw fleeing that day carried something. And don’t tell me everything rotted and eroded away. Leather satchels are like shoes.” He indicated the bones sticking out of a dusty pair. “Why do none of these people have any personal treasures with them? No jewelry. Nothing.”

Monty frowned. “But Vinmo and the others?—”

“Obviously got unlucky, and they also visited only a few years after the eruption when things might have been much more volatile. I’m not saying the thieves didn’t experience any casualties, but the lure of treasure probably countered much of their common sense.” No different than a pirate, although Griff robbed more for necessity than just to enrich himself.

“Are you saying the whole city’s been stripped?” Monty questioned.

“Most likely not. It is rather large, but I would wager everything close to the dock has been rifled through.”

“By who?” Simhi asked. “I can’t see someone from Saarpira doing it.”

Griff rolled his shoulders. “Could be anyone.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure.” Mohan had roused himself and crouched several paces away, looking at something.

“What did you find?” Griff strode for him.

“A body that ain’t been here as long as the others.”

The corpse still held remnants of flesh and clothing. The hair, while wispy, still showed its dark color. However, it was the sheath and saber by its side that had Griff sucking in a breath. “That’s a Merisuan soldier.”

“Wait, what?” Simhi scurried over and huffed, “The emperor is the one who’s been stealing?”

“Not necessarily. Could be this soldier came as part of a scouting mission, while the theft was conducted by another group,” Griff murmured. “But it does raise interesting questions. Why would a country halfway across the world be interested in Verlora?”

“To steal,” Monty exclaimed. “Everyone knows Verlora made the finest things.”

“I’ve heard he’s a collector of rare objects,” Simhi added. “Wouldn’t surprise me if he’s had people pilfering Verlorian artifacts for his collection.”

Griff grimaced. “And keeping it secret lest others think to do the same.”

Monty snapped his fingers. “I’ll bet he’s the one who’s been spreading rumors about people dying.”

“We know that part was true. Vinmo and the others are proof,” Simhi reminded.

“But Vinmo escaped,” Monty pointed out.

“Barely. And now we know it was most likely the dragon that burned him so bad. Just like it roasted this soldier,” Griff stated. While hard to discern with the decay, the remaining garments showed scorch marks and the boots pitting as if someone dropped hot coals—or acid—on them.

“Speaking of roasting, we should take cover,” Mohan advised.

Rather than ask why, Griff stood and headed for the nearest building, Simhi and Monty by his side. At the doorway, he turned to eye Mohan who stood staring at the sky, or rather the large shape blotting it.

“Aren’t you coming?” Griff asked, keeping his voice low lest he attract the aerial predator.

“In a moment.”

“What are you doing?”

Mohan kept eyeing the sky. “Seeing how that dragon hunts.”

“By standing in the open?”

“Aye. Not moving, though. Some predators require movement to track their prey. Like the bears in Okkilam. If you ever meet one, stay still or lie prone on the ground.”

“You do realize some creatures hunt by sound,” Griff snapped. “So get your carcass inside.”

“The dragon’s path hasn’t shifted. It appears to be doing a circuit of the continent.”

Griff could see the dragon winging off, a speck that shrank in size.

“Well, that was interesting. It appears talking alone didn’t draw it,” Mohan stated as he turned to head for them.

“Or it wasn’t close enough to hear,” was Griff’s sour rejoinder.

Simhi had a question. “What makes you think the dragon hunts via movement?”

“Vinmo. The burn marks are most severe on his back as if he were running from the threat, which means the dragon must have been chasing him.”

“You took a risk,” chided Griff.

“We need to know what the dragon is capable of if we’re to protect ourselves from it.” Mohan began walking towards them when the pavement under his feet suddenly exploded upward, tossing the man. As Mohan reached the apex of his sudden flight and began to descend, a huge beetle emerged from the ground. Absolutely massive! It grabbed the falling Mohan in pinchers and, as quickly as it popped into view, disappeared in the hole it had made.