Dragons Deal (26 page)

Nestled into folds of golden velvet perishing with age were four golden objects. Griffen could not easily define them. In shape and size they were like extralong pancake turners, except the paddle part of each had been wrought into a different fantastic shape. Griffen figured out immediately which belonged to what element. Air was rendered as the outline of many overlapping silver-gilt clouds, dusted with glittering blue crystals. The mountain shape at the top of Earth had dark red and grass green crystals. A glistening bubble dotted with aqua and moss green was Water. And Fire . . . Griffen felt his own eyes glow. The stylized flame of the top almost seemed to flicker because of the red and gold crystals set around the edge and licking upward from the handle in lines like living fire. He reached for it. Holly's hand snapped up and slapped his down. He looked at her in shock. She winked at him. Griffen withdrew it sheepishly.

Doug continued his narration. "These scepters will be yours to wield during the parade, when we charge you to set your element in order. This custom began overseas centuries ago and came over with the European founders of this city. For the protection of all, for the good of all, you must first raise the power of your element in the coming days so there will be sufficient to bind on the destined day, so by the time of penance, known as Ash Wednesday, this city and its environs will know security for another year or," he added, with a grin, "another sixty." The audience chuckled. "We-all don't intend that the next one will be that long after this."

"This is all purely ceremonial, of course," Griffen said.

Wrayburn smiled gravely at him. "No, Griffen. This is for real."

"Earth, our mother, the base under our feet, she who sustains us, and to whom our bodies belong, take your scepter."

Costain Wrayburn grasped the mountain wand and hoisted it over his head. The onlookers cheered. Doug shushed them.

"Hold it to the end, folks. Water, from which life emerged, the pathway and artery of our city, take your scepter. Air, the breath and the wind, guardian of music and flight, take your scepter." As Doug spoke, the next two assumed their devices. "Fire, the divine spark, the power of the sun brought down to us mere mortals, take your scepter." Griffen reached for the last rod in the box and raised it to the cheers of the audience.

As soon as his fingers closed on it, Griffen gasped. Instead of holding the wand, it seemed to take hold of him. A warm force radiated into his flesh, racing down his arm, into his body. It spread out to his head and feet. Finding nowhere else to go from there, it felt like it was shooting around inside him like a pinball banging from paddle to ringer to target, except the pinball was made of lava. Holly reached over and put her hand on his forehead. A cool sensation spread out from her palm.

"Calm," she said. "Control it. Don't let it control you."

Griffen had tried meditation a few times in his life, never seriously, but he knew techniques. He closed his eyes and concentrated on his breathing. The pinball slowed down. It stopped ricocheting around and rolled gently up into a spot just behind his solar plexus. He was aware of it, but it no longer hurt. His head rang as if counting up the points. Griffen opened his eyes. They weren't burning anymore.

Holly took her hand away. "That's better."

Once the energy stopped battering him, Griffen had a chance to examine the scepter. It was far heavier than it looked. It might have been solid gold. The glittering crystals were not glass. They were jewels. The light danced in them, teasing his eyes.

"I've never felt power in an inanimate object before," Griffen said. "It went through me like . . ."

"Shh. We don't speak of it," Holly said. "Come and talk with us later, all right? We'll have a drink."

"Face your element now," Doug instructed them. "Antaeus, you are the north. Aeolus, you are the east. Fafnir, you are the south. Nautilus, you are the west." He arranged them back-to-back, shoulders touching, facing down one of the aisles toward a wall or a door.

Griffen imitated the others when they raised their wands toward the ceiling. He felt a little silly, playacting in front of four whole krewes. They were eating it up, but it was all theater. The scepters were made by people who had some inherent power and really enjoyed what they were doing. What did the audience expect to see? Should he wave it around like a fairy godmother?

"All right, kings, time to call forth your subject. Focus on it. With your scepter, draw your element to you. Call it by name. Now!"

"Fire!" Griffen shouted.

Then, suddenly, it wasn't funny anymore. All the lights in his quarter of the room strobed toward him, going on and off like neon signs. The huge bulb over his head burst, releasing golden sparks. They fell toward him. Just over his head, they started dancing on the air like fairies. Each grew larger and larger, then exploded like fireworks. Hot air rushed toward him, kissed his face with a touch like a dry, raspy hand. The top of the scepter burst into flame, which roared toward the ceiling. Griffen flinched, but he could not recoil with the others at his back. He waved the wand, hoping to put the fire out. Instead, flickering lights shook loose from the stylized flame and took off into the air on their own. They danced around his head like cartoon Indians around a campfire. He felt something indefinable unlock. All of a sudden, he felt exposed and vulnerable. This was wild power. It would consume him and everyone there if he did not control it. He had never felt anything like it. It intrigued and terrified him at the same time. As Holly had instructed him, he made himself calm down.

You are mine,
he thought at it.
I am a dragon. In fact, I am the head dragon around here! You are subject to my command. The element of fire was given to us.
He didn't know whether any of that was true, but it gave him confidence.

The fire didn't believe him. It formed a face with two ears and a mouth. More flames became two hands that stuck themselves thumb first into the ears and waggled. A forked tongue came out of the mouth. Griffen gawked.

WHAT was that?
he thought at it imperiously, as a strict father might demand of a sassy teenage son.
I rule you!
His annoyance made the pinball in his belly grow to bowling-ball size. Power raced from it to his arm and to the end of the scepter. Red flames shot out of the gold peaks. They engulfed the wildfire in a cage of glowing net. The mouth of the face opened in a silent bellow of rage. Griffen concentrated, bearing down on the red flames. The cage shrank, until the face was squeezed up against it. It looked at Griffen beseechingly. Its lower lip pouted outward.

Are you going to do what
I
want now?
he thought at it. The face nodded. Griffen relaxed. The red flames died away, blending with the yellow.

The combined creature retreated, forming streaks of fire that snaked toward the ceiling and down again in spirals and lightning strokes. Griffen enjoyed the show.

He was aware of the other elements in the room. Tendrils of water flowed and rippled through the air on his right, hissing into steam as they struck the heat of Griffen's quadrant. On his left, a whirlwind scooted up and down the aisle. With her scepter, Holly conducted music that presumably only she and the scepter could hear. Griffen could not see what was going on at his back with Earth, but the rumble under his feet suggested Wrayburn had assumed authority over his domain, too. Griffen felt all four of the elements were connected, as he was connected to the other three kings.

"Together we weave the web that keeps our city safe," Doug intoned. "Let it go now. Let it go out and raise the power we need. We'll all meet again on parade day! Send it off. Right now!"

"Go away!" Griffen said, putting all of his will into the command. He didn't expect it to obey, but it did.

Fireballs, lightning, and all, the element of fire gathered itself into a ball like a comet. It circled Griffen once, leaving a black contrail that made him cough, then hurtled toward the curtains that covered the door on the south wall. It vanished with a
bang!
The curtains started smoking. Hoisting a fire extinguisher, Matt stood up and sprayed them. He disappeared in clouds of white. When the steam cleared, Griffen saw a round scorch mark on the yellow fabric. Doug shook his head.

"We are not gonna get the security deposit back this time," he said.

The audience sprang to its feet, clapping wildly. Etienne grinned as he showed Griffen two thumbs-up.

"Great show!" he shouted.

Doug signed for silence. "Together we weave the web that keeps our city safe. Remember, you can't talk about this with anyone who wasn't here today. But among those of you who were," he said, with a broad grin, "you've got a special story that'll last you a lifetime. See you all later on."

With the power dispersed, Griffen leaned against the shoulders of the others for support. The audience filed out of the room, talking loudly to one another. They were thrilled and impressed. Griffen was, too, but he needed a chance to go somewhere and think about what had just happened.

Wrayburn moved first. "C'mon," he said. "I need a drink even if the rest of you don't."

"I'll beat you to the bar," Griffen challenged him.

"Yeah, you Fire types got no patience," the big man grunted. "The least you can do is buy the first round."

"It'd be my pleasure," Griffen said. "Firewater for everybody."

"Hear, hear!" crowed Holly, putting her hand through his arm.

Griffen
took a solid pull at the whisky and water. He needed it. His nerves were still vibrating from the first spell he had ever been involved in casting. All the fantasy novels he had ever read said there was a price of some kind to pay for raising energy. He'd had no idea how spot-on that statement was. He needed a large meal and six hours of sleep on top of the drink.

The pinball of fire in his midsection warmed at the first swallow to hit his stomach, then went back to sleep, like a cat in the sun.

"You did some fancy footwork in there," Leopold said, setting down his glass. He had drunk half a beer in one long swallow. "Act like you handled fire all your life. Are you an entertainer?"

"No, I . . . I work in the gambling industry," Griffen said. "The truth is, I had no idea what to expect. It was amazing."

"That it was," Wrayburn said. "Hey, since we're bonded for eternity now, call me Cos."

"I'm Bert," said Leopold. "Just think of
Sesame Street
. My wife's name is Ernestine, and don't think we haven't heard all the jokes. Or you can call me Nautilus. It's traditional for the king to go by the name of the krewe. Once the year is up, I'm back to being Bert."

"I'm Griffen. Or Grifter, if you want."

The big man's eyebrows went up. "Like in
The Sting
?"

Griffen shrugged noncommittally. "I played a lot of poker in high school and college. Now I run a business."

"Well, you are a natural with fire," Bert said. "I am third-generation Nautilus. I'm proud as can be that they saw fit to ask me to be king this year. And it don't hurt that I own six car dealerships. The money helps."

"But the ritual," Griffen pressed. He wanted to get back onto the subject. Etienne had avoided telling him anything at all. These were his counterparts. They had to know more than he did. "What do you think happened in there?"

"Some kind of special effects," Cos said, his eyes placid but wary. "I didn't know exactly what to expect. I mean, it's been sixty years and more since that box was opened in public. At least, that's what your man Doug there said."

"We were instructed what to do," Bert said. "The instruction went only so far, you know, where to stand, how to hold the scepter. I know I never seen anything like it before. Never felt anything like it. I expect there was some kind of device in there, some kind of setup in the room, but it seemed more real than that."

"I wasn't told anything except to show up," Griffen said, resentfully. Etienne had blithely given him the time and place but nothing more. He was going to have words with the werewolf hybrid. Small wonder Etienne had disappeared as soon as the ritual broke up. Griffen wanted to confront him. He could have warned him that they were going to be performing some kind of heavy magic in public, before an unprepared and largely nonmagical public. By the time the crowds had cleared, Etienne was gone. With his gift of foreknowledge, he might have had some inkling that Griffen was pissed off.

"Maybe they thought you already knew what was up," Cos suggested. "Are you descended from a member of the original krewe? Lord knows that when we started up Antaeus again, we had to go through all the archives for our history. Amazing how little people write down when they're sure something is going to carry on in living memory. I'm making sure that every single event this year is documented, recorded, and made into a computer file as well so that we don't have to go through it all again next time."

"No. I'm from Michigan. I came to New Orleans last summer. I just graduated from college."

"You did?" Bert asked, surprised. He studied Griffen's face. "You must be some special if they asked you so soon."

"You can see why," Holly said. "He's got a gift for magic. They must have sensed that."

"I reject your supposition that what went on in there is magic," Cos said.

"What else could it be?"

"But what's all of it for?" Griffen interrupted the budding argument. "Why are you involved in this ritual?"

Holly regarded him seriously. "Well, do you believe in the concept of a sacred trust? Can you entertain the concept without going all ironical on us?"

"In theory," Griffen said honestly.

"Well, this is more than theory, isn't it?" Cos said. "It turned out to be the God's honest truth. I was told what I could expect, but I myself did not know what kind of a holy miracle it was until just a few minutes ago, and it has changed me forever. I wish I could tell my whole congregation. It was mind-blowing."