Stalking the Dragon (23 page)

“You have two hours to learn,” said the Grundy. “I suggest you get busy.”

“I think I liked you better when we were mortal enemies,” said Mallory.

“We still are,” replied the Grundy. “This is a temporary truce, but I shall win in the end.”

“We'll see about that.”

“Death always wins in the end.”

“Well, you may win in the end,” said Mallory, “but I'll be damned if you're going to win today.”

“Indeed you will be,” said the Grundy. “Now please go away. I still have work to do with Carmelita.”

Mallory turned and rejoined his group.

“Are you crazy?” whispered Dawkins. “He kills people just for looking at him.”

“Not my cavalier,” said Belle. “He's not only gorgeous, but he fears absolutely nothing.”

“Both of you shut up,” said Mallory. “I've got to learn what's involved in handling Fluffy in the ring.”

“I think I'll take my leave of you,” said Picayune. “I just saw Harry the Book and Big-Hearted Milton enter the arena and head off toward their seats, and I've got some bets to make.”

He began walking off.

“Wait!” said Dawkins. “I'll join you.” He turned to Mallory. “I've saved your life and found your dragon. You don't need me anymore, do you?”

“No, you deserve a rest after all that heroism,” said Mallory. He turned to Dugan. “
You
stick around.”

“Surely you don't expect another attack, John Justin,” said Winnifred.

“Why not? Brody's still on the loose, and he's got two hours to stop us before we're due in the show ring.”

“I guess you have a point,” she admitted.

“Fear not,” said Belle. “I'll never desert you.”

“I can't tell you how comforting that is,” said Mallory wryly.

“
I'll
desert you,” said Felina brightly.

“I thought you were going to desert me a couple of hours ago,” said Mallory.

“I keep forgetting,” she explained apologetically.

They passed the sea serpents, the gryphons, the hydras, the banshees, the unicorns, the six-legged basilisks, the tree-dwelling watersnakes, and all the rest, until they came to a crowded area that seemed to be reserved for dragons
of all sizes. Mallory gave the elephantine ones a wide berth and wandered over to a section that was clearly set aside for miniature and toy dragons.

“She's gorgeous,” said a nattily dressed young man, who spotted Fluffy from a distance and wound his way through the grooming tables to get a closer look at her. “Good luck—though she's so feminine I can't imagine she'll have any trouble winning.”

“She'll have more trouble than you think,” said Mallory. “I've never even seen a show before, let alone been in the ring. I have no idea what I'm supposed to do.”

“Then perhaps you'll let me help you.”

A number of nearby exhibitors looked daggers at him, but no one said a word, and the young man ignored them.

“I assume we're competitors,” said Mallory. “Why would you want to help me?”

“You're John Justin Mallory, aren't you?”

“Yes.”

“My father embezzled money to pay for my mother's hospital bills. You could have turned him over to the cops. Instead you got him a night job with the Prince of Whales so he could pay off the money and go free. My whole family owes you for that.”

“How can you throw a guy in jail for paying his wife's medical bills?” said Mallory with a shrug.

“There are plenty who would have done just that,” said the man. “By the way, my name's Murray.” He walked over to where Winnifred was standing with Fluffy, gently took the leash from her, and led the little dragon over to his own rubber-topped grooming table. “Now,” he said, lifting her up and setting her on the table, “let's get to work.”

“Where's your own dragon?” asked Mallory.

“Right there,” said the man, pointing to a fireproof cage beneath the table. “Easiest way to keep her clean, now that she's been groomed.”

“I was wondering about all the crates and cages we're been walking past,” remarked Mallory.

Murray rummaged through a box filled with grooming equipment, picked out what he needed, and laid it at the front of the table.

“First we'll trim her whiskers and eyebrows,” he announced, picking up a scissors and going to work. “Next,” he said when he had finished, “the nails.” He quickly and expertly clipped all of Fluffy's toenails.

“Her feet are filthy,” Murray observed. “In fact, her whole body looks like she's been out on the street during a snowstorm.”

“Well, a light snow,” said Mallory.

“
Any
snow turns black in mere minutes in Manhattan,” replied Murray. He lifted a bottle. “This is a dry shampoo; we don't have time to properly soak her. You can help me rub it in.”

“Will she mind it?”

“I never yet saw a dragon that didn't love a massage, and that's what this will feel like.”

They finished, and then Murray set Fluffy down on the floor and handed the leash to Mallory.

“Okay, she's presentable,” said the detective. “What do I do with her in the ring?”

“At various times the judge will ask you to pose her, to gait her, and to fly her.”

“Fly her?” repeated Mallory.

“You'll walk around the ring and she'll fly at shoulder height. He'll judge her on grace and strength. When he gaits her, she'll trot on your left side. If she gets too full of herself she'll break into a run; then restrain her and get her back to trotting. That helps him judge her body structure.”

“Is there a practice ring?” asked Mallory.

“No, but you can practice right here in the grooming area.”

“Now, what about posing her?”

“Just get her to stand four-square and look alert. If you have any of her favorite food, bait her with it, which is to say: Hold it up when you want her attention. The judge will study her overall outline, and the sweetness of her expression.”

“Sweetness?” said Mallory with an expression of disbelief. “She's a dragon.”

“But a beautiful, feminine dragon,” said Murray. “Now, at some point the judge's assistant is going to let something loose—you won't know in
advance if it's a bat, an insect, a rat, or even a mechanical toy—and she'll be judged on how quickly and accurately her flame shoots out at it.” He paused. “And finally, the judge will ask you to place her on a table so he can examine her structure with his hands, and check to make sure you haven't added any illegal fuels to her flame.”

“Okay. Then what?”

“Then the judge announces his choice, and you go on to the next level or you go home.”

“Seems simple enough.”

“Oh, it is,” agreed Murray. “Most exhibitors get pretty good at it after ten or twelve years. But most exhibitors aren't walking into the ring with Fluffy.”

“So you know,” said Mallory.

“She's entered today, and there can't be two dragons that look like this.” He lowered his voice confidentially. “That's why no one else offered to help, when you so clearly needed it. They all think they might have a chance to win if you're handling her.” He paused and looked admiringly at the little dragon. “She's so good she'll win in spite of you.”

“Thank you, I think,” said Mallory. “I appreciate your help, especially considering we're competitors.”

“Not immediately. Fluffy's a toy, my Minnerva is a miniature. We won't meet until the Group, and if we do meet then it means each of us has already won Best of Breed.”

“Okay,” said Mallory. “I'll practice right here. Where's the ring?”

“Each ring has a number,” replied Murray. “Toys are in Ring 4.”

Mallory thanked him again, then went to work with Fluffy. He managed the trotting easily enough, but it took him almost fifteen minutes to figure out how to make her fly alongside him. He then went to a food stand and picked up a chocolate chip cookie, a hot dog, and some candy, but none of it interested the little dragon.

“Dugan,” he said, “we haven't got time for you to leave the building, but check the vendors and see if you can find some elephant-shaped chocolate marshmallow cookies. I've only got half a dozen, and I have no idea how many I need in the ring. I think we have maybe twenty minutes, tops, before ring time.”

“Are you sure?”

“That I want the cookies? Hell yes.”

“I mean, are you sure you want me to leave?”

“Yes.”

Dugan shrugged. “You're the boss.”

He walked past Mallory on his way to an exit, and as he did so a shot rang out. People screamed, dragons hissed, gorgons roared, and Mallory scanned the crowd looking for the source of the shot. Winnifred pulled out her Magnum and tried to spot the shooter.

“Is it okay if I get some more morticians' putty too?” asked Dugan.

“You're not going anywhere!” said Mallory. “Help me spot the gunman.”

“Be careful!” breathed Belle.

“It's the guy with the horns,” announced Dugan.

“Get him!”

The zombie walked forward, and the crowd parted before him like the Red Sea until he was face-to-face with Brody. He slapped the gun out of Brody's grasp, and placed a massive hand around his neck.

“What now?” asked Dugan.

“Bring him over.”

Dugan dragged Brody across the floor until they stood before Mallory.

“Where did the bullet hit you?” the detective asked the zombie.

“My calf,” replied Dugan.

“You weren't trying to kill
me
,” said Mallory to Brody. “You were aiming at
her
.”

“It went off by accident,” said Brody.

“And you're going to jail by accident,” replied the detective.

“No!” protested Brody.

“You should be grateful,” said Mallory. “Given who you owe money to, I wouldn't want to be in your shoes when they finally release you.”

A pair of the Garden's security team fought their way through the crowd and soon arrived at Mallory's side.

“This the guy with the gun?” asked one of them.

“Yeah,” said Mallory. “Take him away for safekeeping. I'll file charges tonight or tomorrow.” As they were cuffing Brody, Mallory held up a hand. “Just a second.”

They looked at him curiously, as he reached a hand into Brody's pocket and came away with half a dozen elephant-shaped chocolate marshmallow cookies, which he transferred to his suit pocket. “Okay, he's all yours.”

“You were magnificent!” said Belle. “I get all hot and bothered whenever you're forceful.”

“Dragons at ringside, please!” came a voice over a loudspeaker. “Toy dragons in Ring 4, miniature dragons in Ring 5, full-sized dragons in Ring 6. Judging will commence in three minutes.”

Mallory began making his way to the ring when an irate exhibitor walked up to him.

“Are you the guy who came here with a cat-thing?”

“What about it?” replied the detective.

“Come get her. She's eating all the fish we bait the serpents with.”

“Winnifred?” said Mallory, turning to her.

“I'll take care of it, John Justin,” she answered, heading off toward the sea serpents' grooming area. “You just concentrate on the show.”

“Thanks.”

“Now, I don't want you to be nervous at all,” said Belle as he reached ringside. “Don't even think of the fact that you have no idea what's going on and are a total innocent in the ring. Don't worry that this is second nature to most of the handlers. Forget that Fluffy doesn't even know who you are and can't possibly feel comfortable with you. The judge probably speaks English, though I know one of the more popular dragon judges speaks only Sanskrit.”

“Shut up,” said Mallory.

“What a thing to say!” responded Belle. “I was just trying to calm your nerves.”

“They didn't need calming until you started talking.”

“Go ahead, hurt my feelings,” said Belle. “Just because I love you and want nothing but the best for you. Just say any heartless thing you want. See if I care.”

“Ring call,” said a voice over the speaker system. “All toy dragons in the ring, please.”

The ring steward checked each entry off against the program book. As Mallory walked by, the steward stopped him. “Excuse me, sir,” he said, “but did you know that your chest is sobbing?”

“It gets emotional at shows,” replied Mallory.

“It should get together with my rheumatiz,” said the steward. “The two of them probably have a lot to talk about.”

Then Mallory received an armband with a number from the ring steward and entered the ring. As he walked Fluffy around the perimeter he passed Harry the Book, who was sitting in the first row, flanked by Big-Hearted Milton and Gently Gently Dawkins.

“Glad to see that you made it,” said Harry. “For a time there I am afraid Brody is going to cost me half a million dollars, give or take. But now you are here and Fluffy is here and everything is copasetic.”

As Mallory glanced across the ring at exhibitors and dragons who looked like they'd been doing this all their lives, a single thought raced through his mind:
What the hell do I do now?

C
HAPTER
32

4:01
PM
–5:07
PM

The judge, a short man dressed in a tux and tails, stood in the center of the ring, and was eventually surrounded by eleven toy dragons standing on the mat that formed the outer boundary of the ring.

“Gait them twice around the ring, please,” he said. The other handlers, most of them human, but also including an elf and a troll, began trotting with their dragons, and Mallory and Fluffy fell into step behind them. Mallory didn't know one dragon from another, but even he could tell that Fluffy was moving so smoothly and gracefully that her feet barely touched the ground.

“Okay, pose them,” ordered the judge.

Mallory glanced at the nearest handler, who got down on her knees and began setting her dragon's feet exactly where she wanted them. He was about to follow suit, but when he checked Fluffy's feet they were in precisely the position the handler had set
her
dragon's feet.

Other handlers were getting their dragons' attentions with various types of bait: dead mice, boiled liver, bonbons, whatever most interested their particular charge. Mallory looked down at Fluffy: she seemed incapable of standing wrong or running awkwardly, but showed no interest whatsoever in the proceedings or her surroundings. He took an elephant-shaped chocolate marshmallow cookie out of his pocket and tossed it to her. She emitted a very refined, ladylike little roar and gobbled it up, then looked alertly at him, ready for another. He noticed that the judge was walking from one dragon to he next, studying each in turn. He waited until the judge was approaching Fluffy, then pulled another cookie out of his pocket. She practically trembled with excitement just as the judge reached them.

Mallory waited until the judge walked over to the next dragon in line. Then, acutely aware that he had only five cookies left and that she ate nothing else, he put the cookie back in his pocket.

The judge summoned a dragon and its handler to one end of the ring. “Gate down, fly back” were his instructions.

The handler set off at a trot, the dragon trotted alongside him, and when they reached the far end of the ring he turned, said “Up!,” and the dragon flew back just off his left shoulder until they were once again in front of the judge.

“Next!” said the judge.

Mallory was fourth in line. When all eyes were on the dragon being gaited and flown, he whispered “Up!” to Fluffy, who merely stared at him. He tried “Fly!” with an equal lack of success. He'd run through half a dozen more words when the judge summoned him over.

“Down and back, same as the others” were his instructions.

Mallory trotted slowly across the ring with Fluffy gaiting alongside him. He hoped that this was such an ingrained routine that she'd automatically start flying when he reached the far end and began running back, but she didn't.

In desperation, he pulled out another cookie and held it straight out at shoulder height. Fluffy flew up, grabbed it out of his hand, and flew the rest of the way.

Then came the individual examinations on the table, and the test of the strength and accuracy of the dragons' flames, and finally the judge stood back, surveyed the field thoughtfully, and pointed to Fluffy.

“Best of Breed!” he announced.

This was followed by thunderous applause, which seemed not to bother the little dragon at all, and then the judge presented Mallory with a trophy.

“I don't know what happened to her regular handler, that little gremlin,” said the judge softly, “but you'd better improve damned fast if you want to win the Group.”

“Don't you belittle my Lover Boy!” said Belle heatedly.

Mallory gave the judge an apologetic smile and led Fluffy back to the grooming area, where he turned the dragon over to Winnifred and set the trophy down on Murray's table.

“Good job, Mallory,” said Harry the Book, who had wandered over from his ringside seat. “Now do it two more times.”

“Don't get your hopes up,” cautioned Mallory. “She won in spite of me. I didn't know what I was doing in there.”

“This did not exactly escape my notice,” replied Harry.

“I see you have your mage with you,” said Mallory. “I hope you don't think he can hinder the Grundy in any way whatsoever.”

“Big-Hearted Milton?” said Harry. “He knows better than to go up against the Grundy, or indeed to annoy him in any way whatsoever.”

“Then what's he here for? Surely he's not a fan of dragon shows.”

“He is here because Brody was still on the loose until a few minutes ago, and somehow I did not believe that the Grundy would lift a finger to hinder him should he come looking for a little revenge. I am not an oddsmaker for nothing, and I decide that if he has a grudge against anyone in the world, you are a one-to-five favorite.”

“Incidentally, I returned your two flunkies,” said Mallory. “So where's my samurai goblin?”

“He's guarding Jeeves back at Joey Chicago's,” answered Harry. “His assignment ends when the show ends, and then he will be free to seek his fortune wherever he wants, and indeed I myself am considering offering him employment.”

Murray and his miniature dragon returned to the grooming area just then, carrying a trophy that looked identical to Mallory's.

“Well, I will leave you to prepare for the wars,” said Harry, starting to head back to his seat. “By the way, watch out for the banshee. I hear on the grapevine that they have hired a most effective handler.” He didn't wait for a reply, but just kept walking.

“Congratulations to you and Minnerva on your win,” said Mallory.

“Congratulations on yours,” replied Murray, gesturing toward Mallory's trophy.

“What happens now?”

“They have a few more breeds to finish judging, and then the Group judging begins,” said Murray. “I've seen the competition. You should waltz right through it.”

“I just wish I knew what the hell I was doing,” said Mallory.

“You won, didn't you?”

“I could ride Man o' War to a win in a cheap claming race, too,” said Mallory. “But winning the Belmont Stakes is different.” He paused. “I don't
know a thing about dragons, but I know every eye was drawn to Fluffy, and she seemed to do everything right in spite of my ignorance and inexperience. But now she's got to beat a bunch of Best of Breed winners; we're moving up in class from claimers to the Belmont.” He looked around. “Where the hell did she go?”

“The fat broad is exercising her,” said Felina, pointing across the arena to where Winnifred was walking Fluffy.

“We don't need either of them,” chimed in Belle. “We've got each other. Nothing else matters.”

“Girl problems?” suggested Murray with a smile.

“Not like anyone else's,” said Mallory with a grimace.

The speaker system came to life. “Group judging in five minutes. The Fire-Breathing Group will be judged first.”

“Might as well get over to ringside,” said Murray, giving a tug on Minnerva's leash.

“I'll join you,” said Mallory. “Felina, tell Winnifred to bring Fluffy to the ring.”

“Maybe,” she replied.

“Let me rephrase that: Felina, tell Winnifred to bring Fluffy to the ring or I'll never feed you again.”

“I'm on my way!” said Felina, racing off.

“You just have to know what motivates her,” Mallory explained as he began walking to ringside with Murray.

Winnifred met them there and turned Fluffy over to Mallory, then leaned over and whispered to him: “I discovered the word.”

He stared at her uncomprehendingly. “To get her to fly,” continued Winnifred, “just say ‘
Sky
.'”

“Thanks,” said Mallory, taking the leash from her. He turned to Murray. “Good luck.”

“Luck won't be enough,” said Murray. “Fluffy's that much better than the rest.”

They entered the ring, Mallory felt a little more comfortable this time, and fifteen minutes and two cookies later Fluffy had won the Fire-Breathing Group. As Mallory was walking out of the ring, carrying an even bigger
trophy than before, he passed the Grundy, who was entering the ring with Carmelita for the Clawed Group judging.

“I'll see you soon,” the demon promised him.