Cos Wrayburn leaned back in his chair. "I highly doubt that with all the police out there and the crowds, someone is gonna try and jump us during the parade. We're in plain sight!"
"Look, call me paranoid if you want," Griffen said, but you don't know what you're dealing with. You've honored me by taking me into your . . ."
". . . Fellowship?" Holly suggested.
Griffen smiled at her. "Yes, fellowship. That's a good word for it. I wouldn't mislead you, but you don't have to trust me. You all know Etienne?"
"For years," Bert said, grinning at the Fafnir captain, who threw him a mock salute. "He's a little crazy, but everything he has ever said is going to happen happens. I can't explain it, but I accept it."
"Well, Mr. Griffen is right," Etienne said. "Dere's gonna be an attempt on all of you. Strong men, out-of-towners who don't respect the tradition or Mardi Gras, either. We gotta protect de scepters."
"So what are you suggesting, Griffen?" Cos asked. "Are any of us in danger?"
"Not physically, unless you resist giving it up. I suggest that I put a rider aboard your float who can help protect your scepter at least until the power is harnessed, and at best until the parade is over and it gets put away again for next time."
"Oh, no," the captain of Antaeus protested. "The king float is special for our king. He rides alone."
Cos sat up. "I don't want anyone else on that float with me. I don't need help. If I am to do God's work, God will protect me."
"But what if this is one of those cases in which you're supposed to help yourself?" Griffen asked. "Look, what about a squire? Someone who will hand you doubloons and necklaces when you want them? Snap your fingers for a refill?"
"I kind of like that," Bert said, grinning. "Okay, you can put one aboard my barge. Especially if he can pour drinks."
"All right," Cos said, reluctantly. "But nobody who's gonna act out of turn. I don't want someone who's gonna draw attention away from me. I've been waiting years for this chance, Griffen."
"I have a couple of good people," Griffen assured him. He signed to the two men in the back, who stood up. "Both of them work for me. I will vouch for them absolutely. Gris-gris will ride with you, Bert. He's tough and fast. He follows orders. Cos gets Jerome. He can help you spot the people you have to be on the lookout for."
Cos looked Jerome up and down. "You've got good shoulders. You'll look good in a toga."
"Oh, no," Jerome said, holding his hands in the air. "No toga. But I will wear full mask and costume. I won't look like anything special. I will blend right in."
"That'll do," Cos said. "We're in, Griffen. What about Holly?"
Griffen hesitated. Melinda had offered him some of her men, but he didn't want to use anyone he personally could not trust. "I'm still checking around for someone who is fast, smart, and tough that I know can handle this situation."
"No problem," Val said. Griffen looked at her curiously. She whipped out her cell phone and dialed a number. "Yeah. It's me. Ms. Beautiful. Get here. I want to call in my favor." She smiled at Griffen. "This shouldn't take long."
They waited. Suddenly, squawking came from the hallway. Edith arrived just in front of a short, thin, scruffy-looking male who pushed his way into the conservatory. "He just came out of the fireplace!" she shrieked.
"It's okay, Edith," Callum said. "He's with us."
"Okay, babe, I'm here. What do you want?"
"He'll do it," Val said.
"I'll do what?" the man asked.
"Just say yes," Val told him.
"Yes," he said, obediently, though his face was set in a mulish expression. "What am I agreein' to do?"
"I'll tell you on the way uptown," Holly said, rising to take his arm. "Come on with us. Griffen, don't worry. We'll be ready for anything. And thanks."
"One more thing," Griffen said. "We need to keep in communication. I brought walkie-talkies. They have earphones so we don't have to hold them up all the time. They're all on the same frequency. It's an open one, but I can't help that." Jerome passed out the plastic blister packages. He and Gris-gris escorted the others out of the house.
"What about us, Griffen?" Callum asked. "You got a strong man to ride your float with you and take care of that scepter? Protecting this city from fire's the most important thing of all."
Griffen stared at him. "I don't have to have anyone else with me. All of you are going to be riding right in front of me."
"Well, what do you expect us to do if this guy turns up?" Terence asked. "He sounds pretty dangerous."
"You're dragons!" Griffen exclaimed.
"Well, but we're not really fighters," Mitchell said.
"It's part of what we are!" He looked around at their puzzled faces. No wonder they had never attacked him or challenged him. They had forgotten what they were. "Look, the guy who is attacking us is another dragon. He's pretty powerful, and he has agents with him, but there are twenty of us against three of him. We can do this! You all claim that your blood makes you more important than anyone else."
"Well, yes," Callum admitted. "So what?"
"Well, what do you think having dragon blood means? What it used to mean? You transform for party tricks? And you were pretty rude to my friend Fox Lisa at the party, and all because you have dragon blood running in your veins. Is that all your heritage means to you? Picking on someone else? Well, I have more, and I am saying you have forgotten what it is to be a dragon."
The group looked at one another.
"You shame us, Griffen," Callum said, reproachfully.
"I hope so," Griffen said. These people had lived all their lives in comfort and privilege. They had gone soft. There had been no such thing as someone like Stoner the last time Fafnir marched. In those days, anything someone did to protect their home was understood. It was more important than letting the government eavesdrop on you. The presumption of innocence meant something. "You don't know what it's like to be under threat. This is it! We are being threatened. I need you to keep these men from taking over something that is important to our whole city. As dragons, you have the power to prevent that. If you want this ritual performed, that is. As your king," Griffen added, though he couldn't believe the words were really coming out of his mouth, "I need your help."
The lieutenants gawked at him as if he were suggesting they dance naked in public.
Melinda flung herself up out of her seat. "What is wrong with you? Never in my life have I seen so many self-righteous, complacent people! What will it take to get you to rise and do something difficult? You have worked tirelessly for the parade and the parties, but not for the ceremony at the heart of your involvement? I don't believe it! Back home, we would eat you cowards for lunch!"
Lucinda's eyes flashed. "We have a different way of doing things here, Mrs. Wurmley."
Melinda turned to regard her. "Well, Mrs. Fenway, how is that working out for you? Look at you! Never mind, Griffen. We don't need them. All it will take to repel this foolish intruder is you, me, and Valerie."
"Hey!" Val protested. Melinda put her hand on Val's shoulder, ignoring her efforts to shrug it off.
"Together we will be far more of a force than all of you put together. This girl here has ten times your potential. She hasn't known of her heritage for more than a few months, and she's more prepared than you are to face a threat."
Griffen watched Val's face change from open hatred to open astonishment. Melinda did honestly seem to appreciate his sister. Val was just starting to realize it.
Mitchell cleared his throat. "We haven't forgotten who we are, Griffen. It's just that y'all are opening up cans of whoop-ass that we sealed up decades back."
"When this is over, you can go back again to the way you were before. This won't change your relationship with your allies. You have a common enemy. What about it? Will you help me?"