Page 13 of Queen's Griffon

“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?”

Chapter 4

Griff

Griff keptbusy and had just about forgotten about the little queen until dinner time came. Until now, Kreed had been bringing her food to the cabin which allowed her to avoid his crew—and him. That stopped today. No more pampering the little royal.

“Kreed, tell her royal highness she’s to join us for her meal,” he commanded his first mate.

“Sure. Where is she?”

Griff stared at him before frowning. “Isn’t she in her cabin?”

“Nope. Door’s wide open and she ain’t in there.”

Nor was she on any of the decks. Had she fallen overboard? Before he could order a search of the ship, Simhi passed by him on her way to the galley for her supper.

“’Scuse me, Captain. Time to fill my belly. I hear Cook’s made his famous rabbit stew,” Simhi quipped.

“With pie,” Griff murmured. His favorite.

“What’s got you looking like someone pissed in your dessert?” Simhi paused to ask.

“Our royal guest appears to be missing.”

“Nah, she’s just down in the belly helping Garth.”

“What?” Griff blinked and resisted an urge to jab a finger in his ear for a wiggle. Surely he’d heard wrong.

“The queen likes machines and stuff, so I introduced her to Garth, and he made her his assistant on the spot.”

“Garth has the queen working on the engine?” Griff couldn’t help but sound incredulous.

“I don’t know what they were working on ‘cause I left. You know I ain’t no tinkerer.”

“I’ll fetch em, Cap,” Kreed offered. “Garth always loses track of time when he’s busy.”

“You eat. I’ll go,” Griff growled. Better than snapping at Simhi, seeing as how she hadn’t technically done anything wrong, but she should have known better. A pampered royal was no mechanic. She’d do more harm than good and given they didn’t have the ability to fabricate parts like they used to, he couldn’t chance losing his engine.

Griff stalked toward the engine room, his glowering expression keeping the crew out of his way. He could just imagine the complaints he’d have to listen to as the little queen ranted about having to get her hands dirty. Assuming Garth convinced her to pick up a wrench. More likely she’d bent the man’s ear about her crazy desire to visit Verlora. Garth would be the wrong person to try and convince. He’d lost his wife and his three daughters when Verlora fell. He’d been on one of the freighters doing repairs when the calamity struck, safe aboard the ship. However, his wife and children? They’d been in the first building that collapsed because of the earth tremors. It took three people to hold Garth back. Even more to convince him no one had survived. Apparently, the structure didn’t just crumple, it got swallowed by one of the many crevices that opened up.

As Griff neared the engine room, his fists clenched, he braced himself for a harangue from a displeased, barely chin-high woman.

Instead, he flung open the door and bellowed, then gaped in astonishment, for there was the little queen, lying on her back, legs sticking out from under part of the engine while Garth crouched beside and handed her parts.

Griff winced as he heard a thump, then a curse. “Stupid metal.”

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