Dragons Deal

by Robert Asprin

  "That's none of your business," Griffen said.

  "Both of you like to use that phrase," Melinda said. "But it is my business. Like anyone who wants to assure the future for our species, I am interested in Valerie's well-being and that of her child. I want to give the next generation my full support."

  "There shouldn't even be another generation on the way yet," Griffen said, bitterly. "My sister hasn't even finished college. Thanks to your son. And both might have ended if any of your daughter's attacks had been successful."

  Melinda looked pained. "Please. As you say, my children are not good at handling personal relationships or settling down. You can understand that I am seizing the opportunity as I can. This may be my only grandchild."

  Griffen felt the poignancy in her words. He almost gave in at that moment, but she was still Melinda. He knew Mai distrusted her, and Mose had been wary of her.

  "Maybe we can work something out," Griffen said. "Under normal circumstances I would agree, that both sides should support a baby on the way, but these aren't normal."

  "The circumstances are as normal as they get for dragons," Melinda said. "You have no idea."

  "I don't want to know. My sister is the only one I care about. But let's declare a truce. I will talk to her. You stop phoning her and having her followed. If she says no, then you leave her alone until and if she wants to make contact with you. Her word is final."

  "Nothing is final when you live as long as we do," Melinda said.

  Griffen looked grimly pleased.

  "The same goes for you," he snarled. He held out his hand and willed the power of the scepter into it. A flame rose from his palm. He clenched his fist, and the fire snuffed out. It hurt, but it was an effective show. Melinda smiled.

  "Ah, you are coming into your gifts. Very well, I will abide by a truce. Please assure Valerie I really do only have her best interests in mind."

  "I'll tell her. The decision is hers, though."

  "Good enough for now," Melinda said. She nodded sharply. The two dragons pretending to shop for books fanned out to flank her. She glanced at Griffen, then headed for the door.

  The bell jingled before she reached it. She stopped as the door opened inward. Etienne strode in. He scanned the store. His face lit up as he spotted Griffen.

  "Mr. Griffen! Glad to find you here. I gotta ask you somet'ing."

  That means money, Griffen thought. "What can I do for you?"

  Etienne pointed to the nearest bay of shelves. "Well, let's just take a moment alone over dere where we gots some privacy."

  Melinda snorted at him. Etienne noticed her. He removed himself from her path and sketched a deep bow.

  "My lady."

  Melinda raised her chin and strode out past him. Griffen eyed him curiously. Etienne met him with a bland smile. He took Griffen's arm.

  "How do you feel about addin' some extra advertisin' in the newspaper Sunday supplement for the krewe?" he asked. "Half the proceeds go to our charity. Some of the others are kickin' in for a half-page ad. It'd be about a thousand. Mean a lot to have your support."

  "Another thousand? This is running into serious money," Griffen said, feeling as if he was being fleeced by an expert.

  "You have it, or so I hear," Etienne said. He gave Griffen a knowing glance. Griffen wondered how much of his intel was gossip and how much was clairvoyance.

  "Less than I had before," Griffen said. He had a mental picture of bags of cash with wings fluttering out of the window like in an old cartoon. He wanted to say no, but it was hard to appear stingy when everyone else was being generous. Jerome had told him of a voodoo deity that appeared in disguise to ask for charity. It was bad karma to refuse. As tightly as he was stretched, giving to those less fortunate was important. "All right." Etienne slapped him on the back.

  "It's all for a good cause. Hey, don't forget. Your final costume fittin' is day after tomorrow. Don't be late, okay? The tailor's fingers are about to fall off, all the people she's gotta fit, even though I told her you're somet'ing special."

  "I know, I'm king," Griffen grumbled.

  Etienne smiled. "Good, ain't it? See you at the first ball."

  Thirty-two

  Val held her arms up over her head and stared at the pale green ceiling. She stood in her underwear in the living room of a shotgun house in St. Bernard's Parish, hoping that the thin lace curtain on the window was opaque enough so passersby couldn't see her.

  "Hold still, honey baby. I got another pin. I don't want to stick you," Aunt Herbera said. Val felt the plump woman's strong, capable hands gather up another fold of beige muslin and press it against her. "Oh, this is gonna be so pretty!"

  "It doesn't look like much," Mai commented. Val lowered her eyes and delivered an annoyed look to her friend, who was curled up in a large, flowered, upholstered armchair under the front window of the small shotgun house. Mai shrugged. "Well, it doesn't. The fabric is dull. You could be wearing a curtain."

  Gris-gris's aunt turned with her hands on her ample hips and regarded her with exasperated pity.

  "I am drapin', and this is to make the pattern, Miss Mouth. If you never had nothin' fitted to that skinny ass of yours, you had this done on you. Saves fine fabrics from gettin' stretched and ruined. We do all our experimentin' with this." She returned to Val. "What was you thinkin' for neckline, honey? We got to think about expansion of that pretty bosom of yours, what with your little passenger on board, there."

  "I've got invitations to parties starting in a week," Val said. She suddenly worried about the time. "Will you be able to finish it by then?"

  Aunt Herbera waved a hand. "You can have it two days from now if you want it."

  Val felt shy asking about price, but she had become very aware in the last few months that not getting details up front usually meant she would be socked with expenses she didn't expect. "Will that . . . cost extra?"

  "Why, no, girl. That's just when I'll be done. You think I'm gonna hold it up for a while to be dramatic? I've got other things I got to finish, but Gris-gris wanted to make certain I took care of you. Okay, then, maybe a little give, 'cause the season'll run until March 10."

  Val was relieved. While there were gowns for every shape, size, and age of women in countless shops in New Orleans, she had not found a single decent evening dress for a six-foot-plus pregnant woman that she could afford. She had called Gris-gris to ask for the name of his relative who made clothes. Aunt Herbera was happy to oblige. And she wouldn't cost an arm and a leg, either.

  "How many relatives does Gris-gris have?" Val asked. "Just out of curiosity. He seems to have uncles and aunts and cousins for every occasion."

  "There's plenty of us," Aunt Herbera said, as she worked. "And there's some who ain't relatives but they is now. You know what that's like."

  "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 reache
d 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 no
t 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."