Chapter 25 #2
“He fell into the lava.”
A reply that had Griff blinking. “How did he fall?”
“Because I pushed him.” Stated so matter of fact it took a moment before Griff processed what Basil claimed.
His jaw dropped. “Why would you do that? He was your friend. Your best friend.”
“Not after he stole my greatest achievement.” Basil’s lips twisted.
“I was the one who deciphered the hidden scrolls. Who retrieved the Dracova stones. The one who worked tirelessly with them, attempting to discover their secret. Lance never understood. He kept telling me to abandon my research, and when I refused, he tossed one of the Dracova stones into the magma. Next thing I knew, not only did a dragon hatch, it bonded to your father. Not me, the one who went through all the trouble,” Basil exclaimed, waving his hands.
“So, yes I pushed him into the volcano.”
“You killed my father.” Disbelief tinged his statement.
“Oh, don’t get that look. I did him a favor.
His injuries pained him daily. He never fully recovered from the chunk a beetle took from his leg, and not knowing if you’d survived left him depressed.
When I saw the chance, I put him out of his misery.
I promise it was quick and painless, even if it didn’t achieve what I’d hoped. ”
“What did you think you’d gain killing my father?” Griff growled through gritted teeth.
“I’d assumed death would break the bond between him and the beast that should have been mine.
I thought with him gone the dragon would latch onto someone new.
Only instead, it became completely uncontrollable.
I didn’t understand why until I read something in that scroll.
” Basil pointed to a table layered in paper.
“It said only the blooded can speak with the dragons. Whatever that means, it must have applied to your father, hence why the dragon eventually allowed him to get close.”
“What does this have to do with Avera and what you’re doing?” Griff queried tersely. He didn’t like seeing the jar that was filling with blood. Her blood.
“Because she is Voxspira. The oldest lineage ever recorded and the guardians of the Dracova stones. Or more aptly, the Dracova eggs. I saw how the dragon looked at her, not with its usual malice. I knew then she was the one I needed.”
Avera had been listening and scoffed. “You’re insane. My blood isn’t special, and it most certainly can’t tame a dragon.”
“Don’t be so sure of that. I already ran a test while you were asleep.”
“Don’t you mean drugged?” she spat.
Basil ignored her. “I placed you somewhere the beast would notice and then observed at a safe distance. It didn’t take long for the dragon to emerge and sniff you.”
“You put your own daughter out as bait?” Griff yelled. “What is wrong with you?”
“I had to be sure. Hence the experiment,” stated a very unapologetic Basil.
“So what if it smelled me? That means nothing,” Avera rebutted. “I reek. It most likely thought me rotted.”
“You aren’t the first unbathed person I presented to it. It killed everyone else I tried that experiment with. It recognized something in you, hence why you’re alive.”
“Wait, are you saying you’ve murdered others?” Griff wanted to scream but it emerged almost as a whisper. Who was this man? Because Griff didn’t recognize him.
“Murdered is a harsh word.” Basil’s lips pursed. “They were sacrificed in the name of science, and in a sense, for the good of others. Fewer people meant more food for the rest of us.”
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 sounded so 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 sleep bombs. 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.