Page 82 of Queen's Griffon

As far as Griff knew, Basil last had the rocks. Given Basil’s position as head researcher, his uncle got his own space and pretty much anything he needed to conduct his experiments. It made sense to start his search in Basil’s private lab, but where was it?

The markings at the next intersection had Griff humming with excitement. The label on the arrow going right statedBasilandMagma Lake.

He pointed. “Basil’s lab should be this way.”

“How come his uses his name instead of a fancy title?” Simhi asked.

“Because Basil never liked sticking to one particular field of study.”

“Is it me, or is getting hotter?” Monty complained, tugging the collar of his shirt.

“We’re deep inside the volcano, and according to that sign, not far from a lava lake.”

“Is it safe to be this close?” Monty’s eyes widened.

“Hopefully.” The magma flows they’d encountered thus far had long hardened, however, Griff knew the volcano remained active: the steaming water in the bay indicated it. It did surprise him how few tunnels were lined with the hardened, lumpy rock. Then again, like water, he imagined the lava chose the path of least resistance when the volcano exploded and began pushing it out.

They followed the corridor and came across several more barricades. Someone had been trying to restrict access.

Griff could feel himself tensing. Were there still survivors? Could it be his father still lived? A question hopefully soon answered.

At the last intersection Griff paused and cocked his head by the arrows labelledMagma Lake,Geology Labs, andBasil.

“What’s wrong, Cap?” Simhi whispered.

“I thought I heard something.”

They quieted and listened. In the silence, they heard a faint shriek.

A frisson went down Griff’s back. “That’s Avera.”

And she was in trouble.

He raced down the hall toward Basil’s lab, noting the door at its end. A door closed and sturdy looking. He didn’t slow down but slammed into it, expecting it to be locked or barricaded, onlyit popped open, and Griff stumbled inside. He quickly recovered his balance physically, but mentally his mind locked as shock gripped him.

A man in tattered clothing whirled to face him. A familiar man who’d aged since Griff last saw him.

“Uncle Basil,” Griff murmured. His heart began to beat fast. Did this mean his father lived too?

Basil beamed. “Griff, is that really you? Look at how much you’ve grown.”

A glance around the room showed much clutter, but what chilled him was seeing Avera lying on a table, a tube emerging from her arm, the inside of it red, the fluid within flowing up to a jar. It took Griff another second to notice the restraints holding her in place. She didn’t donate willingly, confirmed by her cry. “Help me!”

Griff took a step forward as Monty and Simhi clustered at his back. “What’s going on, Basil?”

“He’s stealing my blood,” huffed the little queen.

Why would Basil do that unless he knew Avera’s blood held special qualities?

“Oh, hush now, I’m not hurting you,” chided Basil.

“I asked what’s going on. What are you doing to Avera?” Griff took a step forward, but Basil shook his head.

“Please don’t come any closer.”

“Release her.”

“I’m afraid I can’t do that. Not yet,” Basil stated, and with that refusal, a scalpel appeared in his hand, pressed against her throat.

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