Page 4 of Queen’s Griffon (Swords & Tiaras #2)

Chapter 3

Avera

Avera would need a miracle to convince the captain to aid her with her quest. To think, back in Seaserpent Bay she’d thought her biggest problem would be finding passage on a boat. Now she sailed on one but was no closer to achieving her objective.

Find and return the five stones—seals, as Opal called them—that had kept the ancient evil, Zhos, imprisoned until Avera’s own father, Basil Currosa of Verlora, removed them nearly three decades ago. Now, Zhos had begun causing trouble. The entity had stolen villagers and set them to work unwillingly to free it from a frozen lake in Fraegus Spire. It whispered in Benoit’s ear and convinced him to kill Avera’s family. It even had creatures of mist attack Avera, claiming once she died none could stop Zhos’s return.

Well, she still lived, but was no closer to finding the stones since she’d failed to convince the captain to take her to Verlora.

Jerk.

Her mood didn’t improve at being alone on a ship full of strangers. Captain Griffon had kidnapped her but left behind Gustav, the man who’d been her stern weapons instructor growing up and her fiercest ally after her mother’s death, and Josslyn, a woman she’d met recently who’d shown her what it was like to have a friend. She also really missed her horse, Luna, a steed without compare.

Since she couldn’t stand to be in her cabin for long—the rocking motion of the ship still not completely agreeing with her belly—Avera went above deck and watched the horizon. The air filled her senses with its vibrancy. Despite the chill of the wind that filled the sails, the sun kept her warm.

As she leaned on the rail and watched the rippling of the waves, a presence by her side had her turning. A woman with tanned skin, boyishly short hair, and large, hooped earrings stood there, holding a mop.

“Is it true you’re Daerva’s queen?”

“That would depend on who you ask.” Avera’s lips turned down. “I was forced to run after my mother’s consort decided he wanted the throne, had my mother and siblings murdered, then had me falsely accused of the deed.” Avera saw no reason to not admit the truth.

“And you didn’t kill him?” The woman cocked her head.

“I will the next time I see him.” This time, she wouldn’t run away.

The reply brought a smile. “I’m Simhi.” The female sailor held out her free hand.

Avera stared at it a moment before clasping it and murmuring, “Avera.”

“You’re part Verlorian.” Stated, not asked.

Kind of obvious given Avera’s coloring. Daervians usually tended to have pale features and hair that ranged from gold to russet. “I am.” Then because she had nothing to hide, she lifted her chin and declared, “My father was a man named Basil Currosa. He left Daerva before my mother could tell him she was pregnant with me.”

“ The Basil Currosa?” Simhi’s eyes widened.

“You know him?” Avera herself knew nothing of the man, and while she’d said the name to Griffon and he’d admitted knowing it, he’d not acted as impressed as Simhi.

“Of him. He was only the greatest scientist of the time.” Simhi leaned close to whisper, “Some claim his last experiment is what destroyed Verlora.”

“It’s very possible.” Avera didn’t even try to protect the man who’d fathered her. “It would seem he stole something of great value from Daerva, something that needs to be returned or the rest of the world might meet Verlora’s fate.”

Rather than scoff, Simhi appeared pensive. “And you want to go to Verlora to get it back.”

“Yes. But your captain refuses.” Avera shot a glare in the direction of the helm even though she couldn’t be sure he’d returned to pilot his ship.

“Can’t blame him. He lost his dad the day Verlora fell.”

“You were there?”

Simhi shook her head. “Oh no, I’m too young for that.” Her lips curved into an impish grin. “My mom was one of those who fled with my brother. You might have seen him on board. Big fellow, goes by the name of Kreed.”

“He’s the first mate,” Avera murmured. She’d seen the brutish man, but never actually spoken more than a few words to him while seasick— kill me now, make it stop, oh god give me the bucket.

“Yup. He doesn’t remember though. He was just a young boy at the time.”

“Are there many Verlorians on Saarpira?”

Simhi nodded. “A few hundred. Place was just a shanty town of a few dozen people when the evacuated ships sailed into its bay. Mum says those first few years were hard. The island wasn’t meant to feed the hundreds that descended.”

“Why not settle on another continent?”

“Because Mum said at first everyone thought it would be temporary. We lost many in the beginning of the exodus. A few returned to see if it was safe. They never came back. Once folks realized we couldn’t go home, many left Saarpira to settle elsewhere. But some chose to remain. Over the years, we built homes and businesses. It’s actually rather civilized now.”

“Except for the part where you became pirates.”

Simhi didn’t apologize but she did grin. “Had to feed the folk somehow.”

“Do your people want to return to Verlora?”

“I reckon the older ones do. Saarpira ain’t fancy. To hear the stories, Sitnalta, the capital, was the most incredible city in the world with the streets practically paved in gold.” She rolled her eyes and laughed.

“It could be true,” Avera offered with a smile. “Even if not, it was pretty remarkable. Some incredible inventions emerged from Verlora. I used to collect them.”

“You like fancy gadgets?” Simhi inquired.

“Very much so. Growing up, I had few friends.” A kinder thing to say than none. “I kept myself occupied by taking apart the machines I could get my hands on.”

Simhi laughed. “You sound like me mum. Always tinkering. She fixes things back in Saarpira. Me and Kreed, we’re all thumbs with that kind of stuff. Captain ain’t too keen either, but if you run into Garth, he might show you some of his stuff. He’s one of the old-timers, so if you ever want to hear some stories, he’s your man. He’s the reason we still have an engine on board. Not that we use it much, what with fuel being expensive and hard to come by.”

The mention of an engine lit up Avera’s expression. “You think he’d show it to me?”

“Ayuh. He loves talking about his baby.” Simhi giggled again. “Why don’t I introduce you?”

Simhi led Avera into the bowels of the ship, literally. They descended too deep for portholes and natural light. A smell Avera didn’t recognize filled the air.

Simhi saw her sniffing. “That’s the oil you’re smelling. Black liquid that, when lit, burns until it’s all consumed.”

“I saw some once in Fraegus Spire. The guardian who lived there, Opal, used it to keep her cave warm.”

“I didn’t think Daerva had any oil.”

“We don’t trade in it,” Avera stated. “I’m not even sure where Opal got it from.”

“What’s a guardian do?”

Avera hesitated before murmuring, “She watches over something evil.”

“Hope she does a better job keeping it in check than the Verlorians did.”

The reply had Avera frowning. “Are you saying Verlora was taken down by an entity intent on harm? I thought you said it was one of Basil’s science experiments?”

“There are a few theories about the fall of my country. The most widespread is the claim it was only the volcano. That once it blew, it just kept going, corrupting the land and air.”

“What’s a volcano?” Avera asked.

“A mountain that, when agitated, explodes and spews liquid rock, ash, and poisonous gas.”

“Rock isn’t liquid.”

“It is if it gets hot enough. That’s what started the evacuation. Mount Etna blew.” Simhi exploded her hands. “Mum says the ash and gases from it burned the lungs. Those who breathed too much of it never completely recovered. That poison supposedly ruined the land while the lava, which is the liquid rock, buried the city. When it met the ocean, it created a toxic steam barrier you can still see today.”

If that were true, then Avera would never be able to retrieve the rocks. Surely Simhi exaggerated or was mistaken. “But not everyone believes this mist is deadly?”

“The mist doesn’t kill any more if you breathe it but there’s new danger now. Some claim the volcano birthed monsters. And those monsters don’t like people and kill them if they dare come close.”

“Has anyone seen them?”

“I don’t know. No one’s ever made it back alive. Actually, that’s not true. One person did, but Vinmo hasn’t spoken a word since his return unless him screaming from the nightmares counts.”

“What else do people say?”

“There’s a few that claim those who died now haunt Verlora and suck the life from the living.”

“Ghosts?” Avera tried to not laugh.

“Yeah, I’m not sure about that one but a few sailors who’ve gone past for a peek claim they’ve heard moaning coming from the mist.”

“What do you think?”

“I think even if the volcano stopped spitting there ain’t nothing left. Nothing of worth, anyhow.”

“Doesn’t sound like any scenario has any hope,” a dejected Avera replied.

Simhi slewed a glance at Avera. “Don’t be so sure. There’s a prophecy, you know, one that seems to indicate Verlora will one day be saved.”

“What’s the prophecy claim?” Avera asked. Once upon a time she would have scoffed, but she’d seen too much now to make light of things that seemed farfetched.

“It’s not entirely clear. The person who done wrote it down did it like a poem. Let me see if I can remember it. It’s got a bit about curiosity gone too far, and then something about playing with things best left alone. A verse about people not heeding the warnings of the past. Something, something… a land dies during the rebirth. Then there’s a bit about someone with a crown and her pet saving the day.”

Avera’s excitement dulled. “Sounds like an interesting ballad.”

“It was always too somber for me. I like livelier jigs meself. But there’s some who think it’s a prophecy and are waiting for the signs mentioned in it.”

“What signs?”

“Dunno. You’d have to ask someone who actually knows the words. We’re here.” Simhi stopped in front of a closed door and knocked. It took only a moment before someone wearing grimy clothing and spectacles on the tip of their nose answered. “Hey, Garth. The queen here was hoping you’d show her the engine. She likes machines.”

“Her Majesty?” the short man exclaimed. He bowed deeply, losing his glasses in the process.

Avera scooped the lenses and handed them back, saying, “Please, call me Avera. I’m hardly a queen anymore.”

“A royal title is for life,” Garth declared.

“Not according to the man who stripped me of mine,” Avera quipped. “I hear you are a master inventor?”

“Me?” Garth blinked from behind his lenses. “Goodness no, just a mechanic.”

Simhi nudged his arm. “Avera likes taking stuff apart, too.”

“You do?” Garth sounded surprised.

“I used to, although I sometimes ran into difficulty reassembling. I lacked the proper tools,” Avera admitted.

“Don’t you worry, I have everything we need,” Garth exclaimed, clapping his hands.

“Need to do what?” a puzzled Avera replied.

“Fix things, of course. I’ve been praying for the tinkering god to send me someone to assist.”

“I—”

“Am the answer to my prayer. Come, come. Let’s get started.”

Avera shot a helpless look at Simhi who grinned. “See you at dinner.”

With that, Avera was abandoned with the eccentric man, who babbled as he showed her what required mending. It proved fascinating.

She didn’t even notice the passage of time until a certain captain bellowed, “What do you think you’re doing?”