Page 84 of Queen's Griffon

Griff’s head—and heart—wanted to explode. This wasn’t the Basil he remembered, the kind, if absent-minded, scientist who used to bring him special candy and toys. Now he was a cold-hearted man who thought nothing of placing his own daughter in danger.

“How many people are left?” Griff growled.

“Just me,” Basil stated. “Which has made my research difficult. I thought I’d fail for sure until my daughter arrived. What a lovely surprise.”

Griff doubted Basil meant the part where he’d found out he’d become a father, but rather the fact he thought he could use Avera. “I doubt carrying around a jug of Avera’s blood is going to convince the dragon to be nice to you,” was Griff’s harsh rebuke even as he wondered if it would work. He knew Avera’s blood had special properties but the last thing he wanted was for Basil to bleed her dry for an experiment.

“As if I’d be so dumb. Blood decomposes much too quickly.” Basil rolled his eyes. “What I intend to do is filter it so I can see where hers differs from everyone else’s. Once I isolate the difference, I can hopefully fabricate a wearable talisman that will make the dragon think I am one of the blooded.” Basil soundedso sure and matter of fact, not recognizing at all the insanity of his plan.

“You’re sick,” Griff stated, advancing on Basil. “Release Avera at once.”

“Why do you care? She’s not Verlorian.”

“No, but she is the Queen of Daerva and more than that, she’s a person with a fierce heart, a keen mind and more integrity than both of us combined.”

“With her genetics, I’m not surprised she’s remarkable. But her very uniqueness is why I cannot release her.” His ex-uncle shook his head and the blade at Avera’s neck pressed hard enough a bead of red appeared. “I am on the edge of something revolutionary and I’m afraid I can’t let you get in my way.”

“You want blood, then take mine,” Griff offered. He sheathed his sword and held out his hands. “You said my father managed to get close to the dragon. I’m his son. Maybe I can too.”

“Oh, I intend to have your blood. Theirs too.” Basil’s gaze went to Simhi and Monty. “The more I have to compare, the better.”

“Whoa, you ain’t pricking me!” Monty exclaimed.

“Me either,” Simhi chimed in.

“We’ll see about that,” Basil stated, looking a tad too smug. His hand emerged from a pocket, gripping something. A glass vial that Griff only saw for a moment before it was tossed and shattered at his feet. A vapor rose from the shards.

“Don’t breathe it in,” Griff yelled, throwing his arm over his mouth and nose.

Basil cackled. “Silly boy. It starts to work on contact unless you’re immune, which I am.”

A heaviness filled Griff’s limbs.

“I never was much of a fighter, and the critters in the tunnels can be a tad bloodthirsty, hence why I created these sleepbombs. But in order to use them, I had to dose myself regularly until I could tolerate the gas without effect.”

Griff’s knees buckled, and he felt himself falling.

Basil came to lean over him, a blurry version that tsked. “You are large. It won’t be easy getting you out to the ledge for a test.”

“I’ll kill you for this,” Griff slurred.

“That’s what Lance said. I guess the nut doesn’t fall far from the bolt.” Basil cackled.

Basil, the uncle who’d bounced him on his knee.

Basil, who’d taught him to play chess.

Basil, the man who’d killed his father.

Basil, who would die if it was the last thing Griff did.

If he ever woke.

Chapter 26

Avera

Avera heldher 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.

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