Page 27 of Queen’s Griffon (Swords & Tiaras #2)

Chapter 26

Avera

Avera held her breath and feigned sleep as the potion took effect, knocking out Griff, Monty, and Simhi. She felt her own mind and limbs trying to succumb, but she fought it, digging her nails into her palm deep enough she pierced skin. The pain helped to clear her head.

Not that staying awake helped her situation. She remained tied to a table, the needle in her arm still draining her.

Basil muttered aloud, “What a lucky day. Four samples to work with and two of them of royal lineage. Surely one of them will provide the answer, assuming the boy is like his father. Better test that first.” The man hummed as he banged around, leading her to slit open an eye for a peek. Basil wheeled a barrow close to Griff’s prone body.

He knelt by it and unbuckled the sheath with Griff’s sword. “Ah, your father’s wolfframm blade. How fortuitous. I wonder how the dragon will react to it,” Basil muttered as he put it aside. He then tried to heave Griff into the barrow but lacked the strength to lift the thick captain.

Avera watched—in annoyed amazement—how he rigged a pulley system to heave Griff into the contraption. He then had his back to her, and only when he moved did she see he’d tied Griff’s hands. Given he crouched by Simhi and Monty, she assumed he did the same to them.

When Basil stood and turned toward her, she pretended sleep.

Basil neared and murmured, “Pity I didn’t have access to you sooner. Perhaps I should have read the letters your mother sent. A child of my loins would have inherited my brilliance. We could have worked on this together. Raised properly, you would have been willing, even eager, to donate your blood to the cause.” Basil sighed. “Perhaps you’ll come around. I doubt Griffon will, though. He’s just like his father. Unable to understand the sacrifice science needs.”

Avera bit her inner cheek as Basil suddenly pulled the needle from her arm.

“That’s enough blood to get me started.” He pressed down on the pinprick wound before wrapping a bandage around her arm. “Time to put Griffon to the test. Be a good girl. I’ll be back shortly.” He patted her on the head and then, with a creak of wheels in need of grease, left.

Avera’s eyes popped open. She didn’t have much time to free herself. If she even could, bound as she was.

At least the blood siphoning had ceased. She turned to look left and saw nothing of use. A glance to the right showed the same. She growled. How frustrating?—

“Ugh, how much did I drink?” Simhi groaned.

“Simhi!” Avera exclaimed. “You’re awake.”

“Barely. What happened? Hold on, I remember. That slimy bastard,” Simhi exclaimed. “He drugged us! And what’s this? Trussed me like a chicken for roasting too.”

“Basil took Griffon,” Avera announced. “I think he’s planning to expose him to the dragon.”

“Oh, that doesn’t sound good,” Simhi muttered. “We should go save the cap before that happens.”

“Would love to, only I’m just as tied up as you.”

“Me, tied up?” Simhi snickered. “This Basil obviously never had a sailor teach him knots. Give me a minute to get out of these ropes.”

It took her less than that.

Simhi stood and shook out her limbs, leading Avera to ask, “How come you weren’t affected by his sleeping drug?”

“I was, just not as much as he expected. Must be the same thing that lets me drink men under the table. Kreed jokes I’ve got a belly of iron, seeing how much alcohol it takes to get me truly drunk.”

“Can you untie me?”

“Of course.” Simhi made quick work of the restraints and while Avera sat up and stretched her stiff limbs, Simhi untied Monty, who remained snoring.

Simhi planted her hands on her hips staring at him. “Guess he won’t be giving us a hand.”

“With what?” Avera asked.

“Saving Cap, of course, that is once we figure out where Basil took him.”

“He left that way.” Avera pointed to a flap of canvas hanging on the rear wall.

“What are we waiting for? Let’s get Griffon back.”

Avera swooped up Griff’s sword before following Simhi through the tarp. The tunnel beyond proved warm and as they moved through it, the smell of sulfur tinged the air. They encountered no critters, a relief given what Avera had experienced thus far. Danger beyond her wildest imagination, and yet Simhi and the others had still chosen to come find Avera.

It tightened her chest to know Griffon and her friends hadn’t hesitated to come to her rescue. They’d sailed into danger, to a place Griffon swore he’d never visit, for her. Hopefully, she could repay his braveness by rescuing him.

“There’s a split in the tunnel up ahead,” Simhi whispered from her spot in the lead. “Which way should we go?”

A glance at the floor showed both sides equally scuffed. “I don’t know. Left?” The direction that tugged her strongest.

“Okay.”

Simhi marched fearlessly while Avera did her best to hold Griff’s sword with sweaty fingers. She crept behind Simhi and wondered what she’d do when she saw Basil again.

Probably run him through with the blade.

The man her mother, and even Griffon, must have known wasn’t the Basil she’d met. That person was detestable and given what he’d done—and would continue to do—there was only one real option. Still, planning his murder did leave a sour taste in her mouth.

They reached the end of the tunnel and found themselves on the ledge that overlooked the magma lake not far from where Lenno died. The edges were laden with treasure. The dragon’s hoard. To her left, Avera could see the four rocks she’d spotted before.

The Dracova stones.

How she wished she’d never heard of them. They had brought nothing but trouble. Actually, the blame rested squarely on Basil. Had he never removed them from Fraegus Spire, then Zhos would have remained trapped, Verlora wouldn’t have fallen, Avera wouldn’t be here wondering if a dragon would eat her, and perhaps her father wouldn’t have gone mad.

“We went the wrong way,” Simhi muttered.

Avera followed her friend’s glance upward and noticed a jutting tongue of stone. Barely visible on it? Basil and the wheelbarrow holding Griffon.

“I’m coming, Cap.” Simhi darted back into the tunnel, but Avera stared. Not at Basil tipping over the wheelbarrow, but at the bubbling magma.

Avera took a step back as the dragon rose from the lava, the liquid sluicing from its tough skin. She saw every detail from the jutting crest on its head to the flaring holes of its nostrils which huffed steam. Its scales were a red so deep they were almost black. It made little noise but still drew Basil’s attention.

She saw her father glance over the ledge. Could even see his expression of frightened determination as he dumped Griffon onto the rock ledge. But when Basil would have fled to leave Griffon at the dragon’s mercy, he found himself facing off against Simhi.

She stood framed in the cave opening, scimitar out, and while faint, Avera could hear her taunt, “Let’s see you try and take my blood now that I’m awake.”

“Out of the way, girl,” Basil harshly ordered.

“I don’t think so.”

“The dragon comes,” Basil hissed as said beast pushed itself from the magma.

Avera flattened against the wall and eyed it with fear. She’d seen what it had done to Lenno. Only it wasn’t interested in Avera. It grabbed the stone and began to climb toward Griffon.

Overhead, Avera could see Simhi hesitate, the need to punish Basil warring with self-preservation.

The dragon neared the jutting shelf and opened its mouth.

Avera screamed, “Hide. It’s about to breathe flame.”

Simhi moved quickly, ducking into the tunnel. Basil moved quickly as well but tripped. He fell on his hands and knees, then failed to scuttle fast enough to escape the flames that came jetting out of the dragon’s mouth.

Fire bathed the ledge, so bright she had to close her eyes, but she could still hear. Hear Basil’s piercing shriek as he died.

But Avera didn’t care about him. When the brightness of the flames dimmed, she opened her eyes to see the dragon gone and everything on the ledge incinerated, including the wheelbarrow that had previously held Griffon.

She closed her eyes, but it didn’t stop the tears from tracking down her cheeks. Didn’t stop her from hearing Simhi’s wail, “The Cap’s gone. It obliterated him.”

Gone.

Dead.

Because of her.

How many would die because of her damnable quest?

Avera’s lips tightened as did her resolve. No more. She left the dragon’s hoard and ran into a blotchy-faced Simhi in the tunnel.

“I can’t believe the Cap’s gone,” sniveled her friend.

“Me either. And now we need to make sure no one else dies. Let’s get Monty and get back to the ship.”

Simhi sniffed. “Aye. Let’s do that. But what about your stones? Shouldn’t we find them first? Isn’t that why you wanted to come?”

Avera’s lips tightened at the reminder. “Yes, but I’m wondering now if they were worth the cost.”

“You have to get them,” Simhi huffed. “Or the cap will have died in vain.”

Simhi made a good point.

“I know where they are, but the dragon won’t like me taking them.”

“Good,” Simhi snarled. “Stupid overgrown lizard, barbecuing the cap. Let’s go get them.”

“No, you stay here. I know where they are. I’ll be but a moment.”

Avera returned to the hoarding ledge and didn’t bother looking upward to see if the dragon had returned. She’d come for the stones, and by damn, she would leave with them. She marched quickly to them, quite the armful when gathered and colder than expected, especially given where they’d sat. With them tucked close to her chest, she returned to Simhi.

“Those are the rocks you been looking for?” Her friend eyed them dubiously.

“Yup. Let’s find Monty and get going.”

Monty remained snoring, leading to a dilemma. The wheelbarrow had been incinerated, meaning they had to improvise. They laid Monty on the sturdiest blanket in Basil’s bed and would use it to pull him. Avera located a satchel and loaded the rocks inside along with some of the scrolls Basil had been obsessed with. She might not be able to read them, but perhaps she could learn on her voyage back to Daerva. Assuming she made it. After all, they had tunnels to navigate, a city to traverse, a boat to find and the Emperor’s lackey to avoid.

Numbed by Griffon’s death, Avera might have given up if not for Monty and Simhi. They kept her going and reminded her there were still people in need of saving in this world.

The tunnels proved the easiest part of the journey, despite the fact they encountered oversized bugs that Simhi savagely hacked. Monty woke whilst they were dragging him past the body of a dead rat. A rat so big it took both her and Simhi to fight it.

And what did the man remark? “What a waste, leaving it behind. Me mother would have made the best stew with its meat.”

Avera didn’t gag, imagining how much the Verlorians struggled with starvation when they first escaped.

Simhi had smartly marked their path on the way in, not taking any chances she’d get lost. It meant they emerged in Griffon’s father’s study where Avera glanced around and murmured, “So, this is where Griff grew up. Quite royal.”

A comment that led Monty to chuckle. “He would have hated to be called that. Verlora prided itself on being progressive. Our chancellors were always voted in.”

Avera frowned. “My history lessons showed a string of Leifs in charge going back centuries.”

“Longer than that,” Monty added. “While the people did vote, they always chose them to lead.”

Not anymore. Griffon had been the last of his line. It made her throat tight to think she’d been the cause of his demise.

Their trip across the city proved perilous. Knowing of the bugs, they stuck close to buildings using a stagger-type walk that her friends claimed wouldn’t draw them. It must have worked for they made it across the city just as dawn crested, the lightening sky a welcome thing to see.

Less promising? The bugling cry of the creature in the sky.

They ducked into a derelict warehouse and watched as the dragon did a circuit over the city, coasting on its massive wings, most likely seeking out Avera and the treasure she’d stolen.

She hugged the bag tight. She’d already lost Griffon on this quest. She would die before leaving empty-handed.

The dinghy remained moored where Griffon had left it, and they soon cast off, drifting into the perpetual fog. Avera kept the sack of eggs in her lap and lay Griff’s sword in the bottom. She averted her gaze from it lest she give in to the tears that threatened.

Monty kept watch as he rowed.

“Do you think there’s another kraken?” Avera murmured.

“Hope not. But who knows what’s hiding under the waves, waiting for the right moment to capsize us for lunch,” he darkly declared.

Not the most encouraging statement.

Avera tried to tune out Simhi and Monty’s bickering, Monty insisting his sense of direction wouldn’t lead them astray, and Simhi huffing he couldn’t find his way out of a room with one door. To which Monty exclaimed, “It happened one time and I was very drunk.”

Personally, Avera didn’t think it mattered where they exited the mist, so long as they did. Kreed would find his sister, although how happy he’d be about the fact Avera had returned and not his captain remained to be seen.

When the pair stopped bickering, the silence in the fog stifled, the stillness broken only by the wet slap of oars hitting the water. Stroke, splash, stoke. A monotonous motion that did little to ease her grief, but one thing did help. The mist abruptly ended and bright sunlight left them blinking.

Monty crowed, “Aha, told you we’d make it. And look, there’s the boat.”

A boat, yes, but not the one any of them wanted to see. Avera’s stomach clenched, for it wasn’t a griffon emblazoned on the sails of the waiting ship, but the emblem of Merisu.

“Oh shit.” Monty summed up their situation succinctly.

“Where’s my fucking brother?” Simhi grumbled, craning to look.

A ship in the distance, smoking and listing was probably the one they were looking for, but even if it weren’t visibly damaged, it would never reach them before the Emperor’s Folly . Already the Merisuan crew were tacking in their direction.

“Row!” Monty yelled, stroking hard and fast.

The women didn’t bother. They couldn’t outrun the big ship.

Avera glanced at Simhi. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize. This ain’t your fault.”

“You wouldn’t be here if not for me,” was her quiet reminder.

“Bah. Do you know how long we’ve wanted to check out Verlora? You just gave us an excuse.”

The Emperor’s Folly neared enough for her to see Captain Koonis standing at the prow. As they came alongside side, he smirked down at her. “I’m surprised you made it out alive.”

“Your crew didn’t,” she pointed out.

He waved a hand. “They were expendable. The emperor will be pleased. I take it you were successful.”

Should she lie?

“Before you think up a falsehood, let me say that I am willing to let your companions live if you come aboard quietly with the stones. I’m sure we can find another cage for them.”

The threat had her eyeing Monty and Simhi. She refused to be the cause of their deaths or capture. She stood, clutching the satchel. “I’ll come but only if you leave them alone.”

“You’re hardly in any position to bargain.”

“I wouldn’t wager on that.” Avera held the bag with the rocks over the side of the skiff. “Your word you’ll leave them alone, or you’ll have to explain to your emperor why the stones he wants are at the bottom of the ocean.”

The captain’s lips pinched. “Annoying woman. Very well, they are free to go.”

“I need more than that. Swear on your life that you won’t harm them.”

He arched a brow. “I just agreed to your demand.”

“A man is only as good as his honor. If you make that promise in front of your crew and break it, then they’ll know you’re not to be trusted. A captain who’s lost the faith of his crew doesn’t stay captain for long.” Something she’d heard said aboard Griffon’s ship.

Koonis sighed. “Very well. I swear upon my life that your companions may continue to row their little boat unharmed. Satisfied?”

“Yes.”

“Don’t be asinine,” Simhi hissed. “You can’t go with him.”

“There is no choice,” Avera said aloud. Then more quietly, “I’m so glad I got to know you.”

Simhi almost capsized the boat, jumping to her feet to hug Avera. Tears once more brimmed. Another new friend lost to this stupid quest.

“Watch out below,” shouted a sailor as a rope ladder unrolled and dangled over the rail.

Avera secured the satchel crosswise on her body before gripping it and beginning to climb. It bumped her as she ascended, making her wonder if the emperor knew what the stones truly were. Basil hadn’t, and their secret drove him mad.

As Avera made it to the deck of the ship, the lookout shouted, “Dragon in the sky.”

All eyes turned to see the mighty beast coasting above the fog, circling the continent.

Koonis barked orders. “Let’s get moving before it decides we’re tastier than that kraken.”

The ship took sail, not that Avera got to watch. Back to the cage she went, minus the satchel.

It was a miserable trip. Days and days of no daylight and rancid food. When Koonis appeared to announce, “We’re about to dock,” she could barely muster the strength to lift her head.

She was marched, bedraggled and filthy, onto the dock where a grand entourage waited. A young man dressed in silken finery took one look at her and said, “Is this the Queen of Daerva?”

“Aye, Emperor.” Koonis dropped to a knee in front of the man and bowed his head. “I’ve brought her and the stones, as ordered.” He dropped the satchel at the emperor’s feet.

The emperor’s lips tightened. “Why is she so filthy and starved-looking?”

Koonis raised his head, fear in his eyes. “Your eminence? I simply treated her like I would any other prisoner.”

“She’s not a prisoner, you fool, but my soon-to-be consort.” The emperor didn’t make a sign, and yet a soldier stepped forward, and before Koonis could protest, his head went flying. It rolled across the dock and plopped into the water.

To Avera’s surprise, the emperor bowed. “Apologies, Majesty, for your mistreatment. I didn’t think I had to explicitly tell the captain that, as my fiancée, you should have been treated like a precious treasure. Let me make it up to you.”

By the end of that day, Avera was ensconced in luxury, bathed, pampered, fed. And more surprisingly, the stones were on the dresser of the room she’d been given.

The note with them?

Please accept these as a wedding gift and a promise that together we shall stop Zhos from ruining the world.

Perhaps she could still save Daerva. The price?

Marriage to a stranger.