Dragons Luck

Griffen watched as Mose’s eyes momentarily fogged, as if he were looking at memories and times long since past. Griffen had grudgingly learned that a dragon’s outward appearance had little to do with his actual age. His friend Jerome had been the first to show that to him—a man he knew as another face around campus who had turned out to be much, much older than Griffen.

Still, Mose was such a timeless figure in so many ways, that this momentary display of emotions further set Griffen aback. The older dragon suddenly seemed . . . tired.

“I don’t get it, Mose,” Griffen said. “What is so startling about this all?”

“Well, to start off, I would never have expected Rose coming to you, or anybody for that matter, with such a request,” said Mose.

Griffen hadn’t thought about that yet. Rose was in many ways an enigma to him. He had no experience with voodoo queens or ghosts, and found the combination of the two a little disconcerting. He leaned forward, obviously curious about Mose’s take on things. The other man shook his head, expression and tone growing more calm and controlled by the moment as he centered himself.

“Well, it’s not an everyday request from just anybody. Don’t get me wrong, Rose was a fine woman while alive. And I’ve heard nothing but good things about her since she has crossed to the other side. Still, I don’t pretend to understand her motivations. In this, or in anything.”

“Well, make some guesses. What do your instincts tell you?” Griffen asked.

“The big one is that these kind of meetings tend to get real cliquey real quick. In years past, Rose would be representative if not head of the local voodoo community. Now she’s switched groups. She represents the spirits and ghosts and wandering souls, and maybe there will be some confusion about just whose interests she is most concerned with.”

“That’s not all, is it?”

For once Mose showed his emotions fully, half-rising out of his chair and his face flushing. This alone let Griffen know how much the matter was taxing him.

“Of course not! You don’t have any idea what goes on at this type of thing! You are far too young, far too new on the scene, to take on such a responsibility. Dragons don’t usually take part in these conclaves, and when it gets out that you’re not only attending, but helping to run it as well, you’re gonna have everybody and their kid brother watchin’ to see how you do. Anything goes wrong, you could end up holdin’ the bag. At the very least, it would be an embarrassment and a loss of face. At worst . . . I just don’t know.”

Griffen paused for a moment, keeping himself calm before responding. The comment about his youth, as well as his ignorance, got him more riled up then he would ever have expected.

“So, what do I have to expect?” Griffen said, keeping his voice controlled and outwardly calm.

He had half expected a full rundown right then. Mose had been his most valuable source of information since he had fallen into a world full of dragons and strangeness. What he didn’t expect was for Mose to look away, seemingly embarrassed. Again, the older man took a deep breath, calming himself before speaking and obviously hiding his embarrassment.

“To be honest, Griffen, I don’t know. Never in my long years did I attend such a conclave, much less moderate one. Dragons don’t ‘lower’ themselves to such meetings as a rule. In my case, it just never came up.”

“What do you mean? How could it not come up?” Griffen said.

“You seem so competent, sometimes I forget how new to all this you are. You were raised as human, which frankly isn’t the way most dragons do things. Anyway, you have the human fallacy of thinking all supernaturals are connected. It just isn’t so. Most dragons don’t even see the other things out there in the shadows, much less deal with them. Especially lower dragons . . . like myself.”

Now it was Griffen’s turn to look away in embarrassment. He had been told about his blood and Valerie’s being somehow more concentrated than most dragons’, but it so rarely came up. Even after all that had been forced upon him, some days he still didn’t believe he was a dragon. Some days he still wondered if he was simply insane.

“What can you tell me?” Griffen asked.

“Nothing,” Mose said, voice suddenly hard. “Griffen, you are a strong, confident man far beyond your years. You have made your decision. The timing being what it is, it behooves me to leave it to you. On this, you are on your own.”

“What do you mean?” Griffen said, confused and feeling the first hints of panic.

“I mean this is your baby now. I don’t know enough. Anything I could say might just mislead you. I won’t just be another obstacle for what will prove a very difficult task.”

With that, Mose stood. Griffen was still staring, confused and at a loss for words, as the older dragon walked past the younger. He briefly clasped Griffen on the shoulder, then headed out the door, leaving his own apartment, leaving Griffen alone.