"Never felt nothing like that," said Wrayburn. "It's a test. God wants me to do my job and walk away. I can do that."
"You are every inch Antaeus," Holly praised him. She looked at Griffen in concern. "It's Griffen I'm worried about. We three have been preparing for ages. You didn't even have any reading material."
"I'll handle it!" Griffen said, disliking being singled out. "And if you say I'm too young . . . !"
The wineglasses on the table began to hum, then dance on the surface. Holly grabbed for the stemware and held it steady.
"What's going on?" Cos asked. "Is there something that the scepters caused? Is it you?" he asked Griffen.
"No!" Griffen protested.
"No," Holly said. "I doubt that's him. He's not radiating that kind of destructive energy. You'd be able to feel it yourselves, sitting that close to him. Let me concentrate. Something is attacking the wards." She squeezed her eyes shut. "It's coming from outside, not inside."
Griffen felt pressure on his chest, like invisible walls closing in on him. He swiped at the air, but there was nothing solid to push aside. Cos fingered the collar of his polo shirt.
"I'm choking. What's happening?"
"Are we under attack?" Bert asked. "From who? And what?"
"No idea," Holly said. Even she looked shaken. "It's some kind of external force. It's trying to get in. It doesn't feel elemental, it feels malign."
"How in God's name would you know that?" Bert asked.
"I do know," Holly said. "Just like you would know the word of God when you heard it. This isn't the time for an argument, Bert."
"Let me out there," Griffen said, even though fear planted a cold hand on the back of his neck. "I'll take care of it."
Holly knew what he was talking about. "No! We must not break the wards. They are giving us more protection than you can. We'll ride this out."
"What if they don't hold?" Griffen asked.
"We can hope they do."
"What can we do?" Cos added.
"Pray," said Bert. "Pray hard."
"I agree," Holly said. "Guys, I'm going to do something a little premature and use some of the energy we're raising to protect us.
"You can't do that!" Cos said. "It's too soon."
"The energy will still be there," Holly said. "But we might not. Don't you feel that?"
"'Course I do," Cos said. He put a hand on his chest. "Feels like . . . asthma attack."
Holly took his hand and squeezed it. "Lend me your power. Concentrate on putting the force of your element into my hand."
"This doesn't seem right," Bert said, even though his face was gray. "Need to save power . . . for the parade."
"Don't you want to live to ride those floats?" Cos asked, his head beginning to droop.
"God will protect us if He finds us righteous," Bert said.
"Sometimes we have to help ourselves to get His help," Holly said. "Don't be a self-righteous fool. Remember that story about those footprints in the sand?"
Bert gave her a crinkle-eyed grin. "I always thought the man in the story was the . . . biggest idiot ever born. All right. I just wish . . . I could breathe."
"You will, soon," Holly promised. Her voice was the strongest of the four of them. Griffen marveled at that, but Air was in her power. "Lend me your power. Let's do it now."
"All right," Cos said. "Do what you know."
Griffen was full of admiration for the other two men. Humans were more resilient than he would ever have guessed. These men, who didn't officially believe in magic, were putting their lives in trust to a wiccan, whose practices were condemned by their own churches. They were handling the whole supernatural thing a lot better than he did when he found out he was a dragon. Unlike Harrison, who had been in love with a voodoo queen, these were adherents to more formal sects. He admired them, but he was concerned for his own involvement.
"Holly, I don't know if I should," Griffen gasped out. "I'm afraid of setting everything on fire."
She turned intense eyes to him.
"It'll be all right," she said. She laid the Scepter of Air on the table with its top at the center. Griffen, feeling as if he were in a dream about drowning, dropped his with a thud and pushed it with clumsy fingers until it touched hers. Bert's head was sagging. He needed both hands to put his scepter in place. Cos made a mighty heave and put his point forward with the others. Then he dropped back in his chair with his eyes closed.
Holly tossed back her long blond hair, tilted her face to the sky, and let out an eerie wail. It resolved into words. "We ask thy aid. Let that which others send to us return to them threefold! Lend us thy will. We ask this for the good of all, according to the free will of all. Let all that comes to us return to the giver threefold! Let it happen now!" She let her hands fall on the junction of the four scepters. Griffen felt something rise from it like a hot burst of steam. He squeezed his eyes shut. The howling of a hot wind swirled around them. Grit tore at his skin; rain lashed it. Griffen's heart pounded. He felt it tearing him and the others apart.
Suddenly, it stopped. He panted for breath.
He opened his eyes. Nothing was there but four people sitting around a table in a small kitchen with gingham curtains. No water or sand dripped from the walls. The cheerful copper-colored clock above the stove clacked.
"That was scary as hell," Cos said. "But that pressure's gone."
Bert regarded her severely. "I don't agree with what you just did."
Holly was outraged. "What? I sent the power back to where it came from."
"But the threefold stuff, that's punitive. You're hitting back more than we were attacked!"
"If you listened, you heard me say that all good things shall also be returned threefold. And I am not the one doing the meting out of justice. That is the universe's job. I am just asking. Just what you do when you pray. And it seems to have worked, thanks to all of you."
Cos cleared his throat. "Hard to argue with that," he rumbled. "Got to ask my preacher."
"But why did that happen?" Griffen asked.
"I don't know," Holly said. "We might never know. It could be a function of our power-raising, or from someone who doesn't want us to do it."
Griffen immediately thought of Stoner, but how could he know about the scepters? They hadn't been out of their box in six decades.
"We'd all better get going," Cos said. "Just in case it starts again."
Holly held her hands over each one of them. Griffen felt as if she had just sprayed a suit of armor on him.
"You'll be protected for a while," she said. "But be careful." She smiled at Griffen. "See you all at your king's party."
"Yeah, Griff," Bert said, shaking his hand. "Lookin' forward to it."
Griffen kept all his senses sharp as he went home.
Forty-three
Griffen, black bow tie crisp as a potato chip, shook hands with each person who entered the dining room. Val stood beside him, smiling and gracious in her blue dress with her long golden hair flowing over her shoulders. By tradition, the queen of the krewe would have been next, but Val threatened to boycott the whole party if Melinda was closer than three feet.
"It's silly," Melinda had declared, but she went along with it. She was fifth in line after Etienne and his mother, Antoinette. She wore pale green scaled jacquard with a little jacket over her shoulders. Even Griffen had to admit she looked queenly. He stopped thinking about her and concentrated on his party.
The restaurant had come through for Griffen in every way. Waiters and waitresses in immaculate white aprons poured red or white wine or delivered drinks on tiny round trays. Hors d'oeuvres that smelled and looked marvelous were circulated on large silver platters with white napkins. The guests nodded or shouted compliments to Griffen.