Page 5 of Queen's Griffon

And moaning.

And lying in the bunk as she resumed dying.

Food was brought and left along with jugs of water. Not that she had the appetite to eat. She did try to drink, only to heave it back up almost immediately. Blame the storm that wouldn’t stop swaying the vessel. She’d never known a person could be so ill.

Days passed before the seasickness eased. Hopefully for good this time.

It took her a moment before she could sit up. The dizziness closed her eyes.

Weakness infused every inch of her battered body. Her poor chest hurt. Her throat ached, the flesh of it raw. Before, when she’d been landbound, she thought sailing sounded marvelous.

Turned out it was more like torture.

She drank a glass of water and waited to see if it would stay down. When it did she followed it with a hunk of bread which had been left on a plate on the floor. A bit dry, but she washed it down with more water and felt a bit stronger.

It took a few deep breaths before she could stand. A glance through the porthole showed water as far as she could see. So still at sea, but at least the ship had stopped rocking violently.

Her first step almost dumped her back on the bunk as her weak limbs initially refused to cooperate. She gritted her jaw. She would not return to that bed, not until she got some answers.

When she reached the door, she expected it to still be locked. It opened, and in her surprise, she almost fell. She held on to thedoor for a moment, breathing. Bit by bit her strength returned, and the dizziness subsided.

Still, Avera remained weak, and it showed in her slow steps as she exited her cabin into a narrow hall. She headed for the daylight she could see and held in a groan at the sight of the three steps she’d have to climb.

Just three. It might as well have been a hundred. She panted heavily by the time she managed to totter onto the sunny deck. The fresh air that hit her skin and filled her lungs did much to revive. With her eyes closed, she inhaled deeply, each breath filling her with strength. When she felt less disoriented, she blinked at the bright sunlight magnified by the water all around. Not a speck of land in any direction, meaning she wouldn’t be escaping the ship anytime soon.

She took stock of her surroundings. The deck of wooden planking extended the length of the ship. Tall masts, hung with sails, jutted into the blue sky. Atop one was what she’d heard termed a bird’s nest, where apparently sailors kept watch for trouble.

A waist-high rail ran the circumference of the ship. Metal rings were embedded every few yards. She noticed more of those rings on the jutting structure in the center of the deck that held the steps going belowdecks. It rose well above her head and a squint showed a window, the glare of sun on it making it impossible to see inside. Had to be the bridge, which she’d also heard called the helm.

Sailors roamed the deck, busy with tasks, but not so busy they couldn’t give her curious glances. None spoke to her.

Avera pivoted to see if she could spot the captain, but no one of his large size and annoying nature appeared. Her gaze returned to the window. Did the captain stand behind it, watching?

Upon seeing a stocky woman slopping a bucket of dirty water over the side, Avera approached and ventured a soft, “Excuse me, can you tell me where we’re going?”

“To Saarpira.”

The isle of pirates long known for its lawlessness. The destination wasn’t exactly surprising, given who’d abducted her. “How long until we get there?”

“A week or more, at least. The storm blew us off track.” The woman wandered off with her empty bucket and Avera leaned against the railing.

Despite how she’d gotten aboard, it occurred to her that rather than be mad, she should be pleased. If she ended up in Saarpira, then she still had a chance of making her way to Verlora and completing the quest she’d been given.

If she could escape her captor.

As she inhaled more of reviving salty air, her gaze took in the sails, unfurled canvas that stretched taut as the wind filled them. They were emblazoned with a large emblem. One she recognized, but to be sure, she called out to a grizzled seaman coiling rope. “What symbol is that?” She pointed to the sail.

“That there is a griffon, just like our captain.”

Her heart stuttered. “Wait, are you saying the captain is called Griffon?”

“Aye, milady. Seems fitting given they’re both mighty beasts.”

The sailor must have thought Avera odd for she began laughing. Laughing and feeling better than she had in days. Perhaps not everything was lost. After all, she’d found the legendary beast that Opal, the guardian of Fraegus Spire, had indicated would be crucial for her quest. Apparently, if she wanted to save her country from Zhos—a powerful, murderous entity attempting to break free from his enchanted prison—shehad to find the Griffon. It might have helped if Avera had known she was looking for a man, and not an animal.

Even more helpful if Opal would have mentioned just how annoying he’d be.

Speaking of the irritating man, he suddenly appeared, walking back from the bow, his long-legged strut and wide shoulders making her gaze linger inappropriately. Of all the men to admire… It only increased her ire.

---