Page 68 of Queen's Griffon

He and Monty waited for her on a stoop, the solid concrete safe from any burrowing bugs. When she descended, she had a somber expression.

“What is it?” Griff asked. “What did you see?”

“Not Avera, if that’s what you’re wondering. Whatever the dragon went after, it’s gone. We’re three streets away from a giant crack, though. It’s huge, and knowing what lives underground, it’s probably not a good idea for us to go near it.”

“Then how will we get to the lab?” Monty queried.

“There is another way,” Griff murmured. A secret passage known by few at the time, and only him in the here and now. “It’s not too far. Follow me.”

Despite the decades, this section of the city remained familiar to Griff. He’d grown up near here. Passed these buildings on his way to visit his friends and go to the stores. The park where he used to play ball had turned into a barren patch of land. Only stunted weeds grew. Past it, the gate that had never been closed in his youth creaked as he pushed it open.

Simhi sounded reverent as she said, “What is this place?”

Looking upon the castle etched into the mountain itself, Griff’s voice emerged choked as he said, “My home.”

Chapter 21

Avera

The doorbehind Avera opened so abruptly that she, along with Lenno and Frisk, fell into the building. While the men recovered quickly, jumping to their feet to glare and point their weapons, Avera gaped. They’d been rescued by an older fellow with snowy white hair, a creased visage heavily scarred on one cheek, wearing a tattered tunic and pants repaired with patches of mismatched fabric.

“Who are you?” Lenno shouted, menacing with his blade.

“Is this how you thank people who save you?” the stranger asked with an arched brow.

“Ain’t no one supposed to live here.” Frisk backed his comrade and also aimed his sword.

“Not many do,” the man stated, his lips turning down. “I do believe I’m the last one left.”

Avera picked herself—and her jaw—up from the floor. “Our thanks, sir, for your timely intervention.”

“I almost didn’t let you in. Merisu thieves aren’t welcome here.” The fellow offered a stern glare at the Lenno and Frisk, but his expression softened as he eyed Avera. “However, then I saw you. You’re Verlorian.”

“Half. My mother was Daervian,” Avera stated, eyeing the stranger, wondering why he appeared familiar.

“I’m glad to know some of my people escaped,” the old man stated. “I feared the worst, that the Verlorians had died out.”

“There aren’t many,” Avera answered truthfully. “A few hundred scattered around.”

“So few,” the man murmured.

“Who else is here?” Lenno glanced around with a scowl.

“Just me,” offered the man with a shrug. “Verlora isn’t exactly welcoming of visitors, as you might have noticed.”

“How did you scare off the dragon?” Frisk queried.

“With a novelty item. Fireworks, they’re called, although you might not be familiar with the term as they were a Verlorian invention that hadn’t been distributed outside our borders when the volcano erupted.”

“You’ve been here since the cataclysm?” Avera asked as Lenno blustered, “What’s a firework?”

“It is an explosion of light and sound. Colors, too, depending on the mixture. Quite lovely when set off at night.” The old man offered an explanation that didn’t make much sense. He glanced at Avera. “And yes, I’ve been here since the volcano and everything that followed. I had to stay in the hopes of righting what went wrong.”

“You know what happened?” Avera asked.

“Didn’t you pay attention? A volcano exploded,” Lenno snapped.

The stranger’s expression turned somber. “I’m aware seeing as how I was in charge of the experiment that caused the eruption and started that unfortunate chain reaction of events.”

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