Dragons Luck

“The man threatened to . . .”

“Started to go off on me over . . .”

Griffen held up his hand, and they lapsed into silence.

“Let’s try this one at a time,” he said. “Lowell?”

“Gustov asked me a question regarding basic animal-control skill,” the vampire said. “We came up here, away from the tourist traffic, so I could give him a minor demonstration. Slim here came along and took exception to what I was doing. Something about offending the dignity of a rat. It went downhill from there.”

“I see,” Griffen said. “Slim? Anything to add?”

“He was makin’ it stand up on its hind legs and dance,” Slim said with a scowl. “To me, that’s abusin’ the power.”

Griffen remembered how offended Slim had gotten when it was suggested that he use his animal-control skills in his street act.

“Did you say that to him?” he said.

“No. I just asked him to stop,” the street entertainer said. “Don’t figure it’s my place to try to tell someone else how to use their abilities.”

“That was it, then?” Griffen said. “A disagreement over how one’s powers are to be used? I thought that was the kind of thing that was supposed to be talked out at this conclave.”

“It got a bit heated, Mr. McCandles,” Tammy put in.

“There was some name-calling and muscle flexing. All in all, I’d say it was just a misunderstanding that got a little out of hand.”

“Very well,” Griffen said. “We’ll leave it at that. I think a round of apologies is in order, and after that we can all forget it.”

“I ain’t apologizin’ to him after what he said,” Slim said stubbornly.

“All right,” Griffen said, turning to the other two. “Lowell, Gustov, on behalf of the conclave, let me apologize for any offense offered you tonight. We know that there are a lot of old grudges and biases here, and we’re all trying to work past them.”

“Thank you, Mr. McCandles,” the vampire said. “I, too, must apologize for my comments. They were said in the heat of the moment when I felt I was being challenged.”

“And thank you, Lowell,” Griffen said with a slight bow. “Now, if we’re all . . . Slim?”

Slim was ten yards away, striding off down the Moonwalk with his shoulders in an angry set.

Apparently not everyone was ready to forgive and forget.

Forty-two

Griffen was sitting at one of the back tables in the Irish pub. While he normally sat at the bar so he could chat with the other regulars or the bartender, tonight he opted for solitude, and the others respected it. Sipping his usual Irish whiskey in larger-than-usual gulps, he brooded about the altercation with Slim.

Of all people to cause an altercation at the conclave, he would never have figured Slim. If anything, the street entertainer was the one who had served as Griffen’s advisor about what to expect and how to handle it. For him to be the one to pick a fight with attendees from not one, but two other groups went beyond surprising.

Once again Griffen ran through what had been said and done once he arrived on the scene, but still he was at a loss to find a better way he could have played it. The situation had simply degenerated too far by then, and all he could do was attempt damage control.

“Hey, lover!”

Startled, he glanced up as Mai plopped down on an empty chair at the table, drink in hand. It said something about how focused he was that he had not even noticed that she had come in.

“Oh. Hi, Mai,” he said, forcing a smile.

“Are you okay?” she asked, leaning forward to peer at him. “You look a little down.”

“Just a bit tired is all,” Griffen said. “This conclave thing has been running me ragged.”

“Well, I sure haven’t seen much of you,” Mai said, leaning back. “I was just a little worried about you, is all. Thought you might be upset over your go-round with Slim.”

Griffen stared at her.

“How in the world did you hear about that?” he managed at last.

“Well, I could just say ‘It’s the Quarter,’ which it is.” She grinned. “Truth to tell, though, some of the fey kids are holed up at a bar up the street and were talking about it. Your sister is working the bar and overheard a lot of it. Since she doesn’t get off for a while, she gave me a call and asked me to look you up.”

“Oh, that’s just great.” Griffen grimaced. “I was hoping the whole thing would just blow over. Instead, the word is spreading.”

“Hope for the best, but plan for the worst,” Mai recited smugly. “If it blows over, fine. You’d better be thinking about what you’re going to do or say, though, if it doesn’t.”

“What can I say?” Griffen said, shrugging helplessly. “I know Slim has a thing about abusing the power to control animals, but he really seems to have overreacted this time.”

“From what I hear, that was only part of it,” Mai said, sipping at her drink.

“What do you mean?”