Dragons Luck

by Robert Asprin

  And Lizzy was hanging around, and George, and there was Mai. This was getting far too complicated. Griffen was already on a collision course. Flynn had given him enough pushes, enough pressure, enough distractions, that it wouldn’t take much more.

  In fact, Flynn didn’t really need to be here anymore at all.

  Flynn pulled out his matched suitcases and began carefully packing, hands still just a bit shaky from alcohol and fear. It was time he got back into his own environment. This conclave was nearly done. Griffen would either falter completely or hang on by his fingernails. Either way, he would be ready when Flynn decided just what he wanted with him. The next step, if he bothered with one, would be the last, and it could be handled by proxy.

  After all, what else are lackeys for?

  Forty-one

  All in all, the conclave progressed quite well. To be sure, there were some raised voices and occasional ruffled feathers, but nothing out of the ordinary when people of differing opinions gathered for discussion. If anything, it was tamer than most bar gatherings to watch an NFL game.

  It came as no surprise, then, when things went bad. It was a surprise to Griffen, but not to any of the attendees. To them, it was only a matter of time before something blew up. The only question was when and over what.

  What was noteworthy, and therefore discussed long after the conclave disbanded, was the aftermath.

  It all started innocently enough. Someone suggested a scavenger hunt, and the bulk of the attendees thought it was a fun idea. Griffen was hesitant, but finally agreed with the consensus, only on the condition that no laws would be broken by any of the teams taking part. He had taken part in some scavenger hunts back in college, and knew firsthand how raucous they could become if hard-and-fast rules were not established from the outset.

  That evening, players were divided into two-person teams, and, following yet another suggestion, each team was made up of individuals from different groups. This was both to promote conversation between the attendees and to ensure that the use of their various powers would be kept to a minimum.

  One such team was composed of Lowell, the main spokesman for the vampires, and a young shape-shifter named Gustov. Early on, they agreed that they were severely handicapped in the competition as neither of them was local, nor had either of them been to New Orleans before. Even though the list of items to be sought was not particularly difficult, without much knowledge of the French Quarter they didn’t even know where to start looking for half the items they were supposed to be seeking. As such, they decided they would not seriously pursue the quest but rather use it as an excuse to explore the Quarter a bit in the allotted time.

  One item they chose to look for was an old LP record. For that, they wandered down Decatur Street toward the French Market in hopes of finding something in one of the small “retro” shops in that area. Unfortunately, they discovered that most of those shops had closed early, so they made their way leisurely back toward Jackson Square.

  There were many interesting shops to catch their attention as they window-shopped their way along, and were both pleasantly surprised to find each other’s company both relaxing and pleasant.

  As they approached the Square, however, Lowell noticed that Gustov seemed increasingly uncomfortable, constantly glancing ahead and obviously distracted in his conversation.

  The reason for this soon became clear.

  As they drew abreast of the line of mule-drawn carriages waiting for fares in front of the cathedral, the animals became noticeably restless, shifting their feet and tossing their heads. Their drivers, chatting in the shade, broke off their conversations to attend to the mules, glancing around to try to figure out what was upsetting them.

  Realizing what was happening, Lowell gazed at the animals, then made a small, barely noticeable gesture with his right hand.

  The mules immediately calmed down, their ears coming forward and their fidgeting ceasing.

  Gustov gave his teammate a small, embarrassed smile.

  “Thanks,” he said.

  “Think nothing of it,” Lowell said with a shrug. “Is that sort of thing much of a problem for you?”

  “Not usually,” Gustov said. “I live in a city, and there aren’t many domestic animals around. I don’t go to the zoo very often, though.”

  They walked a few more steps in silence.

  “Do you think you could teach me how to do that?” the shape-shifter said at last. “Calm animals down, I mean. I can think of times when it could come in real handy.”

  “I really don’t know,” Lowell said. “I’m not sure how much of it is a learned skill and how much is an inherited ability.”

  He glanced around.

  “Tell you what,” he said. “Let’s give it a try and see what happens.”

  With that, he led the way across the street and up the ramp beside the Jackson Brewery to the Moonwalk. Pausing, he peered up and down the sidewalk that ran along the Mississippi River to the Aquarium of the Americas and the Riverwalk shopping center. The walk was well lit by mock gaslight streetlamps, but there were still patches and stretches of near dark.

  “There should be . . . Ah! There.”

  The vampire pointed at a rat that was snuffling around the litter at the base of a trash can.

  “Now what you do is stare at it for a few moments to fix the image in your mind, then envision what you want it to do . . . like this.”

  He stared at the rat, then made a gesture. The rat left off its foraging, advanced several feet toward them, then stopped, sitting up on its haunches.

  “That’s neat,” Gustov said.

  “Now you try it.” Lowell nodded, stepping back a pace.

  The shape-shifter took a deep breath and stared at the rat. Several moments went past. The beast seemed to lose interest in them, sniffing the night air as if trying to locate a new food source.

  “It doesn’t seem to be working,” Gustov admitted at last.

  “Oh well,” Lowell said. “Maybe it is hereditary. Then again, maybe you just need to practice a bit.”

  “What was that gesture you made?” the shape-shifter said.

  “Gesture?”

  “Yes. A little wave with your hand,” Gustov said. “You did it just now, and before when you were calming the mules.”

  “Oh, that.” The vampire shrugged. “It’s just a way to focus your energies. You let the suggestion build, then release the instruction with a gesture. Watch.”

  He stared at the rat again, then gestured.

  The rat stood up on its hind legs and waved its forelegs as if it were dancing.

  Gustov threw back his head and laughed out loud.

  “What are you doin’?”

  The two men looked around.

  A couple was approaching them. Apparently one of the scavenger-hunt teams from the conclave. The woman was one of the changelings, the leggy coltish one they called Tammy. The man was the tall skinny black man who was one of the hosting locals.

  “Oh. Hi . . . Slim, is it?” Lowell said. “I was just showing Gustov here some of the basics of influencing animals.”

  “Uh-huh,” Slim said. “Looks like a bit beyond the basics. You’ve got that animal doin’ stuff it don’t do normally. Mind letting it go?”

  “Oh. Certainly.”

  Lowell gestured again, and the rat dropped back to all fours and shook itself.

  “Sorry,” the vampire said. “I didn’t mean any harm. Friend of yours?”

  There was an ill-muffled snort of laughter from the shape-shifter.

  “We’ve worked together before,” Slim said, stiffly. “More like an associate. I try to treat the animals I deal with on a level of respect. I guess that’s one of the differences between you and me.”

  “Hey. Lighten up, Slim,” Lowell said. “It’s not like I set him up to swim the Mississippi.”

  “No. You just had him dancin’ around like some street-trash hustler. That ain’t somethin’ he’d do normally,” Slim growled, turning
away.

  “What? It’s beneath his dignity?” The vampire laughed. “C’mon. It’s just a rat.”

  “Yeah?” Slim said, returning to the fray. “And you’re a vampire. How’d you like it if someone got into your head and had you dancin’ around just for show.”

  “Slim,” Tammy said, warningly, putting a hand on his arm.

  “Like there’s anyone at this conclave who could get that much control over me . . . or any other vampire,” Lowell shot back.

  “Hey, guys,” Gustov said, stepping between them. “Don’t you think you’re overreacting a little?”

  “And you stay out of this,” Slim said, turning on the shape-shifter. “If I want advice, it sure won’t be from the likes of you. What? Has he got a mind hold on you, too? I thought you were further up the food chain than that.”

  “What are you doing?” Lowell said, looking at the changeling.

  Tammy looked up from her cell phone.

  “I’m calling Mr. McCandles,” she said. “This whole thing is getting out of hand.”

  “Whistling up the dragon to bail you out of trouble?” the vampire sneered. “Well, he isn’t strong enough to stop me if I really wanted to get into it with Animal Man here. Oh, put that thing away. We aren’t . . .”

  He started to reach for Tammy’s phone, but Slim knocked his hand away.

  “I don’t care how bad you think you are,” he snarled. “You don’t touch her while she’s with me. Leastwise, not unless she wants you to.”

  “And you don’t lay hands on me!” Lowell hissed. “Better men than you have learned to regret taking such liberties.”

  Again, Gustov stepped between them.

  “Gentlemen,” he said. “There’s no call for . . .”

  “And I told you before to back off, Fido,” Slim said.

  “Around here, a man fights his own battles once he starts ’em.”

  The shape-shifter struck a stance.

  “That’s twice you’ve insulted me, Slim,” he snarled. “Both times I was trying to help. But if you . . .”

  “What’s going on here?”

  Griffen McCandles appeared out of the darkness, striding toward them.

  There was a frozen moment, as everyone held his pose in tableau like a bunch of guilty children when the front door opens. Then everyone started talking at once.

  “We were just . . .”

  “The man threatened to . . .”

  “Started to go off on me over . . .”

  Griffen held up his hand, and they lapsed into silence.

  “Let’s try this one at a time,” he said. “Lowell?”

  “Gustov asked me a question regarding basic animal-control skill,” the vampire said. “We came up here, away from the tourist traffic, so I could give him a minor demonstration. Slim here came along and took exception to what I was doing. Something about offending the dignity of a rat. It went downhill from there.”

  “I see,” Griffen said. “Slim? Anything to add?”

  “He was makin’ it stand up on its hind legs and dance,” Slim said with a scowl. “To me, that’s abusin’ the power.”

  Griffen remembered how offended Slim had gotten when it was suggested that he use his animal-control skills in his street act.

  “Did you say that to him?” he said.

  “No. I just asked him to stop,” the street entertainer said. “Don’t figure it’s my place to try to tell someone else how to use their abilities.”

  “That was it, then?” Griffen said. “A disagreement over how one’s powers are to be used? I thought that was the kind of thing that was supposed to be talked out at this conclave.”

  “It got a bit heated, Mr. McCandles,” Tammy put in.

  “There was some name-calling and muscle flexing. All in all, I’d say it was just a misunderstanding that got a little out of hand.”

  “Very well,” Griffen said. “We’ll leave it at that. I think a round of apologies is in order, and after that we can all forget it.”

  “I ain’t apologizin’ to him after what he said,” Slim said stubbornly.

  “All right,” Griffen said, turning to the other two. “Lowell, Gustov, on behalf of the conclave, let me apologize for any offense offered you tonight. We know that there are a lot of old grudges and biases here, and we’re all trying to work past them.”

  “Thank you, Mr. McCandles,” the vampire said. “I, too, must apologize for my comments. They were said in the heat of the moment when I felt I was being challenged.”

  “And thank you, Lowell,” Griffen said with a slight bow. “Now, if we’re all . . . Slim?”

  Slim was ten yards away, striding off down the Moonwalk with his shoulders in an angry set.

  Apparently not everyone was ready to forgive and forget.

  Forty-two

  Griffen was sitting at one of the back tables in the Irish pub. While he normally sat at the bar so he could chat with the other regulars or the bartender, tonight he opted for solitude, and the others respected it. Sipping his usual Irish whiskey in larger-than-usual gulps, he brooded about the altercation with Slim.

  Of all people to cause an altercation at the conclave, he would never have figured Slim. If anything, the street entertainer was the one who had served as Griffen’s advisor about what to expect and how to handle it. For him to be the one to pick a fight with attendees from not one, but two other groups went beyond surprising.

  Once again Griffen ran through what had been said and done once he arrived on the scene, but still he was at a loss to find a better way he could have played it. The situation had simply degenerated too far by then, and all he could do was attempt damage control.

  “Hey, lover!”

  Startled, he glanced up as Mai plopped down on an empty chair at the table, drink in hand. It said something about how focused he was that he had not even noticed that she had come in.

  “Oh. Hi, Mai,” he said, forcing a smile.

  “Are you okay?” she asked, leaning forward to peer at him. “You look a little down.”

  “Just a bit tired is all,” Griffen said. “This conclave thing has been running me ragged.”

  “Well, I sure haven’t seen much of you,” Mai said, leaning back. “I was just a little worried about you, is all. Thought you might be upset over your go-round with Slim.”

  Griffen stared at her.

  “How in the world did you hear about that?” he managed at last.

  “Well, I could just say ‘It’s the Quarter,’ which it is.” She grinned. “Truth to tell, though, some of the fey kids are holed up at a bar up the street and were talking about it. Your sister is working the bar and overheard a lot of it. Since she doesn’t get off for a while, she gave me a call and asked me to look you up.”

  “Oh, that’s just great.” Griffen grimaced. “I was hoping the whole thing would just blow over. Instead, the word is spreading.”

  “Hope for the best, but plan for the worst,” Mai recited smugly. “If it blows over, fine. You’d better be thinking about what you’re going to do or say, though, if it doesn’t.”

  “What can I say?” Griffen said, shrugging helplessly. “I know Slim has a thing about abusing the power to control animals, but he really seems to have overreacted this time.”

  “From what I hear, that was only part of it,” Mai said, sipping at her drink.

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean I don’t think you got the whole story when they gave you the recap,” Mai said, leaning forward and lowering her voice. “The animal-control thing is where it started, but it escalated into a pissing contest over whose powers were stronger and who could control who. Specifically, it really heated up when the question came up if you were powerful enough to control a vampire.”

  Griffen covered his eyes, then massaged his forehead. “This just keeps getting better,” he said.

  “You haven’t heard the best part,” Mai said with a grimace. “The real subject of conversation is what you’re going to do abo
ut it. It seems everyone is expecting you to come down on Slim.”

  “What?”

  “Well, he is one of the locals.” Mai shrugged. “And he not only got into it with a couple of the other attendees, he specifically defied and embarrassed you in front of witnesses. Some are thinking that you’re going to have him bounced from the conclave. Other are saying that, since you’re a dragon, you’re going to come down hard on him just to make an example of what could happen if anyone crosses you.”

  Griffen slammed his glass down on the table.

  “That tears it,” he growled. “What am I supposed to do now?”

  “I really don’t know, lover,” Mai said with a sigh. “I just figured I should pass along the info you didn’t have. You’re in a tough enough spot without people holding back on you.”

  Griffen favored her with a long stare.

  “That sounds a little funny coming from you,” he said.

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” Mai said, cocking her head to one side. “Has Val talked to you?”

  “You never bothered to mention that you knew Flynn,” Griffen said, straight-faced. “I had to hear it from him. He seemed to think you had told me all about him.”

  “I know a lot of people.” Mai shrugged. “It didn’t seem very important, particularly with you getting ready for the conclave. Besides, you seemed totally taken with him.”

  “From what he said, I got the impression that you two aren’t very fond of each other,” Griffen said. “Would you care to elaborate on that?”

  “I’d say he’s a snake, but it would be insulting to snakes,” Mai said, playing with her drink. “I know he’s been giving you advice, and that doesn’t sound like the Flynn I know. He doesn’t do favors. The only one Flynn is interested in is Flynn. If he’s being nice to you, you can bet there’s something in it for him.”

  “You mean he might have a hidden agenda?” Griffen said with a smile. “If not, then he’ll be the first dragon I’ve met who doesn’t.”

  “Well, speak of the devil,” Mai said, jerking her head toward the far door.

  Griffen looked around. Flynn had just entered the bar. He gave a quick wave at Griffen, then stopped at the bar to order a drink.