Dragons deal gm-3

by Robert Asprin

  "I really do," Val said. "Our friends are just about the only family that Griffen and I have. Our parents are dead. Our only blood relative is our uncle."

  "Why, you poor thing! You want some of ours, you just ask. We tired of feedin' them."

  Val laughed.

  "All right, you take a look at that." Aunt Herbera turned her so she was facing the long mirror attached to the wall next to the white-painted fireplace. "That too low-cut? You can stand to wear it because you're so young and fresh."

  Mai was right about the muslin being dull in color and texture, but it had transformed in the dressmaker's hands into a work of sculpture. The fabric was pleated over each breast into a strapless bodice. The small folds met in the middle in a woven V that showed the cleft between them. The rest of the muslin fell smoothly down around her body to the rectangular bolt lying at Val's feet from which it had been unrolled. Even in that color, the shape was perfect for her, youthful and, she was almost embarrassed to realize it, devastatingly sexy.

  "That's unbelievable," Val breathed. "You did this just by draping?"

  "All the time," Aunt Herbera said. She regarded her work critically in the mirror. "It does look good." She reached up to tweak the left side upward under Val's arm.

  Val's eyes widened. Something was moving in the fireplace. She didn't worry that something was burning. Even during that winter, it was rarely cold enough to light a real fire. Most people relied on furnaces, most of which had been retrofitted to the old wooden houses. Val could hear the low hiss of baseboard heat. But the ornamental screen attached to a white wooden frame to match the fireplace surround was moving. Perhaps her cat was playing in there? Val was just about to mention it, when the screen went flying violently outward.

  It hit Aunt Herbera in the back of the leg. She spun around.

  "What was that?" she demanded. A shape rolled out of the chimney and sprang to its feet. It looked around and snarled. It was the size of a teenager, like a wiry human in build, but its hands and feet were too big for it. What looked like gelled-up spiked hair on its head was a mess of big gray-brown scales the size of leaves. Its pointed teeth were made for tearing flesh. Its tongue, Val was horrified to see, was forked. It flicked at her, tasting the air. Bizarrely, to Val's eyes, it wore a brown T-shirt and gray sweatpants, "A clinker! God save us, get out of my house!"

  The creature laughed at her. It jumped high and kicked off against the fireplace as if it were the side of a swimming pool. Over their heads it flew, claws out, straight for Mai.

  The small Asian woman saw it coming. She was braced in the big armchair long before it got there. She lifted herself on the arms and kicked upward, smacking the clinker in the jaw. It tumbled backward and landed on the floor. In a split second it was up again, ready for another attempt. Mai jumped to her feet and stood hunched over with her hands flat on the air, martial-arts style. Val felt something strong hit her, something invisible. It made the clinker stumble backward.

  "Who are you?" Mai demanded. "Who sent you?"

  "You know who," it cackled, in a hoarse, gravelly voice like that of a four-pack-a-day smoker. "This is a warnin'! You better back off and stop interferin'!"

  Mai's eyes widened, then narrowed again. "I don't take warnings from lowlifes like you!"

  "Then how's this instead?" It raised its long hands and spread its fingers out. Flame gushed from the fingertips in thin streams. Mai leaped out of its path and landed near the front door. The curtains started to crackle. Val ran to beat them out with the folds of muslin.

  Aunt Herbera snatched up the ornamental fireplace poker and started belaboring the creature over the head from behind. "You get out of my house, you spawn of Satan!"

  "Ow! Ow!" the creature bellowed. It ran around the room with the old woman in pursuit. She chased it into a corner and rained blows down on it. "Knock it off, you old sack of bones! That don't even raise a bump!"

  "It don't, do it?" Aunt Herbera asked. She raised the rod to hit him again.

  The thing straightened up, grinned evilly at her, and grabbed the poker out of her hands. "No." It tied the brass rod in a knot. Aunt Herbera gasped. The creature flung the piece of metal away and pushed her to one side. "Good thing you ain't on my schedule!"

  Mai was still on guard. As she got closer, she turned in a circle and let go a roundhouse kick. The clinker fell back, its jaw knocked sideways. It rolled on the floor and came up on its hands and knees. Mai hit it again with another dose of force field. Though the invisible hand pushed Val backward five steps, it had no more effect on the clinker. The creature scooted toward Mai as swiftly as a lizard and wrapped itself around her legs. Mai screamed. She flailed at its head with her fists. The clinker seemed to flow up her body until she was wrapped up in its limbs. Smoke rose from her clothing and hair. Val gawked, horrified. She and Aunt Herbera rushed to try to and peel the clinker away from Mai. Its skin was burning hot. They snatched their hands away, gasping in pain. Aunt Herbera retreated.

  Mai fell to her knees. The clinker clung to her, cackling in her ear.

  "You stay out of business that don't concern you. You get one warning, and that's all! After that, I don't stop!"

  "Tell Jordan Ma that he can stuff his warnings up his ass and dance!" Mai gritted out. Her teeth were clenched together. She clawed and kicked, but her movements were jerky with pain. Val took a deep breath, and dug her hands between the clinker and Mai's body. She pried outward.

  "Leggo, girl!" the clinker roared. "I got no problem with you. I'll spare your life and the old lady if you let me have this female."

  "No way, asshole," Val snarled. She doubled the effort, grunting as she pushed outward.

  Val felt the creature's muscles loosen slightly. It might be fast, but she was stronger. She put all her strength into pulling it away from her friend. The creature's right-arm grip popped loose. It scrabbled at Mai's shoulders, trying to keep hold. Val put her foot into the clinker's neck, pushing it down and away. Its hot skin burned her, but she was determined to eject it no matter what it took. The other arm came loose. Before it could regain its grasp, Val grabbed the clinker by the neck and heaved. Mai collapsed on the oval rag rug, gasping. Val dragged the clinker out over the living-room floor. It wasn't very heavy, but her hands felt as if the skin were going to boil off her bones. She dropped it and blew on her palms.

  The clinker turned over to scuttle back to Mai, but Val stomped down on the back of its neck with one foot. It flipped over and made to grab at her with all four limbs. Val smiled viciously.

  "I was hoping you'd do that," she said. She brought her foot down hard on its crotch.

  "Oooh!" It contracted in on itself, clutching at the injured spot. It rolled side to side, moaning with pain. Val felt herself growing bigger, but she didn't care. She kept on kicking and stamping on whatever part was closest. "Girl, leave me alone! Uncle! Uncle! You killin' me!" Val looked down to see if it was badly hurt. In the brief pause, it flipped over again and tried to head for Mai.

  By then, Mai had risen to her knees. She had her claws out, but she looked bad. She was in no shape to defend herself. Val grabbed the clinker by the nape and hauled it upward. It couldn't have weighed more than thirty pounds. Val shook it and slapped its face back and forth. It swung its legs up and battened onto her forearm. It scratched at her, but it could not get a toehold on dragon skin. Then it began to glow red. The heat increased. Val felt blisters rising on her skin. She punched at the clinker's back, where the kidneys would be on a human, willing it to let go. The pain was temporary, she kept telling herself. Only temporary!

  The creature's hot grip seemed to grow weaker and weaker with every blow. At last, it let go and dropped to the floor. Val was on it in a heartbeat, kicking its head and belly until it lay in a pool of its own blood, which flowed from its mouth and nose. The blood flickered blue and purple like a gas fire. She stood back, gasping.

  "That was amazin', young lady!" Aunt Herbera said. "You are as strong as iron."

 
"Sometimes she doesn't know her own strength," Mai said weakly. Val and the old woman ran to help her up. Her lovely designer clothes hung in scorched tatters on her body. Her usually pale skin was red where the clinker had touched her.

  "Well, I am impressed to death. Gris-gris ought to be proud to be on your arm, Ms. Valerie."

  Val knelt beside Mai. "Are you all right?"

  "I am getting better," Mai said, swallowing hard. "It felt like it was trying to burn the life out of me. If you hadn't stopped it . . ."

  Val smiled at her. "Well, I did, so don't think about that. Come on, sit down." They helped her into the armchair and found a quilt to tuck in around her. Mai watched Val bustle around, completely unself-conscious about displaying that magnificent body of hers in a scanty pink bra and panties. Apart from her burns, which went almost bone deep despite what she had told Val, Mai suffered from an uncomfortable and unfamiliar feeling. She had to search deep in her memory for a similar sensation, one that she had felt seldom in her long life.

  Oh, yes. Gratitude. Mai nodded.

  She had given friendship to Valerie McCandles and received friendship in return. Mai was humbled that the girl who did not know her that well and did not understand the danger into which she was putting herself and her unborn baby had thrown herself at a creature she had never seen before to save her friend's life. It was not that Val had so much faith in her dragonish abilities; she had merely seen her friend in trouble and acted.

  Would she have done the same? Mai doubted it. She was ashamed.

  How many roles had Mai nurtured carefully over the years? Dozens, or more. Siren, leader, thief, muse, lover, daughter? Yet her favorite was the simplest of them all: friend. In her long life, she had never really had one before. It was a genuine revelation to her. It made Mai rethink her strategy, or part of it. Whatever Mai would do in the future, Val would never suffer from it.

  "Thank you," she said.

  "No problem," Val replied. She looked down, and realized she was in her underwear. "Oh, my God!" She reached for the fallen swaths of cloth and wrapped them around her.

  They heard a moan coming from the clinker. It was stirring on the floor where Val had left it. Aunt Herbera stood over it and glared down.

  "In my younger days, I would have hung you out with the washing! Crawl back into the sinkhole from which you climbed!"

  "Are you kiddin'?" the creature asked, showing its bloody teeth in a grin. "That ain't even poetic!"

  "You want poetry?" Val demanded, coming to loom over it.

  "No, I want you to drop the towel. You got some body on you, babe." It leered at her.

  Val kicked it in the neck. "I want you to swear an oath to me. I want you to promise to serve me."

  The clinker let out a pained laugh. "Oaths? We don't swear no oaths! That's fairy-tale stuff."

  Val hauled him to his feet by his unspeakably dirty T-shirt. "You don't? Well, how about this oath? If you don't swear to leave me and my friends and family alone and do what I say when I tell you to do it, I swear that I will tear you here and now into little quivering bits and burn them until you will wish you were swimming in a Lucky Dog cart to ease the pain. You owe me."

  "For what?" the clinker asked.

  "For not killing you right away and asking questions later."

  The creature looked alarmed. "What do you want, Ms. Beautiful, three wishes?"

  Val grimaced. "No. I'll figure that out later. In the meanwhile, you had better not hurt my friend, or this lady, or me, or anyone in our families, now or ever. Or I'll find you again. I've got friends in high places. And low places. And a bunch of other places. I'll find you, and I will finish the job. You know what I am."

  "Yeah. All right, all right! Agreed," said the clinker. "Gimme your cell-phone number."

  "What?"

  "Well, how the hell you expec' me to find you in all of New Orleans when you want me?" he demanded.

  "You have a cell phone?"

  "Get wit' the twen'y-first century, lady!" He reached into his pants pocket and pulled out a battered flip-phone. Val reeled off her number. The clinker punched a button, and Val's purse erupted with her ring tone. "Now you got mine." It grinned at her. "You don't wanna give me one more look at that bodacious body of yours, huh?"

  "No! Now, get out of here!"

  "Dang, what a bitch!"

  Val made a move toward him and stamped the floor. He fled for the fireplace and zipped up into the chimney. He left a contrail of sparks that winked out.

  "That was absolutely amazing," Mai exclaimed, turning to offer Val a smile of admiration.

  "Hurts," Val said, folding up like an accordion on the floor. She clutched her hands. Mai noticed for the first time that both arms were covered with blisters up to the elbow.

  "It'll heal," Mai said. Now was the time for her to help. She rose from her nest and folded the quilt into a pillow to put under Val's head. Aunt Herbera left the room and returned with a glass mayonnaise jar filled with green salve.

  "You both need my special burn cream," she said. "This come from an old family recipe my great-grandma learned from her great-grandma. You can't buy this in stores." She started slathering it onto both girls.

  In spite of the eye-watering smell of menthol, the salve smelled good. After just a few moments, the redness went away. Within fifteen minutes, most of the blisters had flattened out. Mai looked down at herself in dismay.

  "Will you look at my blouse? It's ruined!"

  "I told you it was a waste to buy designer," Val said, fingering the pieces of cloth.

  Mai smiled. "Darling moose-butt, it is never a waste of time to buy designer. It is a waste if you wrestle demons in it, though. I will kill that creature. What did you say it was?"

  "A clinker," Aunt Herbera said. "Dragon-kin, but real distant. I thought it was a legend that mothers tell their children to keep 'em from goin' out at night and raisin' hell. That was as pretty as anything, the way the two of you faced it down! And you, Miss Val, stompin' it like a cockroach. You wouldn't mind if I tell that story? I participate in folktale circles. That is as good as anythin' else that ever won first prize."

  At first, Val was horrified to realize that she had just fought a fire-wielding creature in front of a stranger, and one of Gris-gris's relatives at that. But the older woman's eyes were full of admiration, not fear. She believed in supernaturals. She lived with legends, and she was not at all surprised that Val and Mai had handled themselves like one of her peers.

  "No problem," Val said, relieved. "As long as you make sure I don't look fat in my dress."

  Aunt Herbera touched her arm. "Honey, they will all be wondering what you got under there by the time I finish with you. You'll look like a woodland nymph. Not that I ever met any. But I bet you have."

  "No," Val said. "You'll have to ask my brother. Wood nymphs are more his speed."

  "Do we have to ask you not to tell your nephew about this?" Mai asked.

  Aunt Herbera shook her head. "Wouldn't matter if I did. He already thinks this girl here can walk on water. The fact that she can wrestle fire-demons will just make him worship her more. But if you don't want me to, I won't. You go on, now. I'll call you when your dress is ready. It'll just give me something pleasurable to think about while I'm sewing. Let me give you something to wear home, honey."

  They heard her cackling with delight as they left.

  "And so a legend begins," Mai cracked. A borrowed blouse of Aunt Herbera's that would have wound around her twice hung from her slim shoulders.

  "So," Val said, "you want to tell me who sent you that guy as a warning?"

  Mai hesitated. "Not yet. Forgive me, but I don't want to involve you in my troubles. Not yet. I must thank the two of you for saving my life. And healing my wounds."

  "That salve of hers is great," Val said, thoughtfully. "I wonder if it will work on diaper rash."

  Thirty-three

  Griffen ran off the elevator in the Royal Sonesta Hotel. He had had to leave a stimula
ting discussion over drinks with Holly and Bert, about magic being sacred or profane, but the phone call sounded urgent. The rising annoyance in Wallace's voice told him he had better get there quickly, or there was going to be violence.

  Not as many games had been running lately as there might be during this season. The people who normally played one or two nights a week were involved in Mardi Gras activities: going to parties, tableaux, building floats, and all the other activities that Griffen himself was doing on the side. That meant that not as much money was coming in as he and Jerome had hoped. They were feeling the pinch. Griffen had had to cover part of the last payroll out of his savings. Word had also continued spreading about the crooked games--or at least the losers' perception that they were crooked. Once a rumor started, it was hard to stop it. Griffen hoped this was not going to be another disaster.

  He heard the shouting from the open door of the suite and winced. He hoped the windows looking out over the pool were shut. A hotel security guard raised his head when he saw Griffen. There must have been some complaints. Griffen made a gesture to assure the man he had seen him, and the guard leaned back against the wall. He had a bribe coming later on for not shutting down the room.

  "Hello, folks," Griffen said, coming in with his hands raised. "I'm Griffen McCandles. What's all the fuss?" The combatants stopped yelling and turned to glare at him. A short, round-bellied man with a few strands of hair plastered on his scalp jabbed an angry finger at an equally short, round man on the other side of the table.

  "Griffen! This sonovabitch accused me of slipping cards under the table! He says I'm cheating! You have known me for how long?"

  "There has to be some kind of misunderstanding," Griffen said. He felt pressure like a drill driving right into the third eye on his forehead that Holly insisted he had. "Mr. Stearn is an old friend of ours. What is it that you think you saw happen?"

  "Think?" the other man said. He was a Chinese-American about the same age as Stearn, but with a good deal more hair. "Just because I am old doesn't mean I'm blind, or that since I retired I have enough money to lose to criminals."