"I am king of Fafnir, lord of fire. You'll do what I say."
The sensation of heat closed in on him, protesting, as if to say, "Aw, Dad!"
And Griffen responded. "I mean it! Calm down! I bind you and order you to lay a shield over the city. And the environs." Whatever that meant, but it was in the ritual. Holly had said it, and so had Matt. In his mind's eye, he saw a sort of old-fashioned, hand-drawn map, all that fire calming down to a warm glow. The pinball inside him faded away to a pinpoint.
Griffen suddenly felt the weight of the solid gold scepter in his hand. He lowered it. He was exhausted. The job was done.
A little voice interrupted the haze in his brain.
"Throw me something, mister!"
A little black girl sitting on the top of a ladder waved to him, a large man bracing her back. Griffen smiled. He reached into the front of the float, which had been miraculously spared from the conflagration, and pulled out the remaining boxes of throws. He flung a flashing green LED dragon's-head necklace to her. It landed right in her little hands. She shrieked with joy. Griffen kept on flinging.
The day had been so strange, what with spells and power and mystic binding, it didn't seem to have been real. There was something missing, Griffen knew. The whole experience wouldn't be complete until . . .
The bands behind him struck up a loud brass fanfare. Yes, there it was: "Second Line." People on the sidelines began to tap their feet in time with the music.
Griffen was suddenly and thoroughly content with his lot. This was his city. He was king of Mardi Gras, and the world was wonderful. He waved and gestured with his scepter, loving the day and the event, being in the here and now. He understood Zen for the first time.
He rode the rest of the route in his scorched costume, on his burnt-out chicken-wire shell of a float, throwing doubloons and cups to the eager faces and hands of the crowd. He had nothing left that he had to worry about. Not until the parade ended, anyhow.
Fifty-one
"I was amazed those horses didn't panic at the fire!" Melinda shouted over the jazz band's cheerful music as they climbed off the floats when they reached their terminus point on Tchoupitoulas. Buses were waiting to take the riders to the after-party.
"Dey my hosses, Mrs. Melinda," Etienne said. "Raised 'em all myself. Dey not afraid of no dragon, nor dragonfire. Dey owned by dragon."
"I can't believe how fast that hotel fire went out," Mai said.
"It was the scepter," Griffen said. He was glad that Matt had marched in so soon and locked it up again in the case. He was beginning to miss the pinball, which vanished as soon as the scepter was gone. "I'm glad no one was hurt in it."
"No, and Melinda got everyone organized to soothe the kids," Val said. The marchers from Ladybug, Ladybug were right between our float and hers. She organized them and us maids to soothe the kids, and sent out a volunteer with a whole bucket of doubloons, compliments of the queen. Distracted them right out of the fear." She sent a shy smile to the older woman. "We're going shopping for the baby."
"Maybe later," Griffen said. He took out his cell phone. "I'm getting us a taxi. We need to go to the hospital first."
"Are you that badly hurt?" Fox Lisa asked, pulling aside the torn fabric to look at his skin. "You look okay."
"It's not me," Griffen said.
Val seemed to read his mind. "Gris-gris? He is hurt? Damn you, Griffen, why didn't you tell me!"
"He didn't want us to," Griffen said.
"And you listened to him? I'll go by myself!"
"I will take you," Mai offered.
"No, dear," Melinda said, taking her arm and pushing in between Val and the others. "I'll go with you. The rest of you go to the party. You deserve to have some downtime. Go on."
"Call me when you find out how he is," Griffen said. Val nodded. She was still upset with him. He didn't blame her.
Griffen saw them into the taxi. Everyone else was slapping one another on the back and swapping stories. The rest of the beer and throws were loaded onto the bus with them.
The party, thrown by Antaeus, with donations from the other three krewes, was being held in a huge auditorium. A lot of paradegoers who had bought tickets were there to share the fun and dance to the music. Three videographers had a huge flat-screen TV showing raw footage of the parades that they had just shot, complete with audio. It was so loud that Griffen had to put one finger in his ear to get a report from the hospital.
"Val says that Gris-gris will be okay," he reported to his friends and fellow kings. They were all laden with necklaces and other trinkets from one another's boxes. "He's going to keep the scar on his face. 'It's currency in the Quarter,' he said. Now she's going shopping."
Bert laughed. His temporary cast was covered with signatures from all four krewes. "I owe Gris-gris a lot for fighting that hard," he said. "He did more than I could to try and stop that man. He was like a supervillain!"
"At least we got the city protected against three elements," Cos said. "We'll try again next year."
"It won't be my problem then," Griffen said, cheerfully toasting his fellow kings.
"But you did it when it matter most," Etienne said. "Dat's why it had to be you, Mr. Griffen."
"You did a great job," Holly said. "Let me know if you ever want a third girlfriend."
Griffen found his throat had dried out. "Uh."
She laughed at him. "Just joking. You're sadly outnumbered as it is." She gave him a kiss on the cheek. "I'm looking forward to continuing our fellowship."
"That was a damned dangerous thing, that ritual," Cos said.
Etienne nodded. "Coul' been worse. Rest of you was okay, but half the time in my dream, Mr. Griffen didn' get up again after the fire."
Griffen looked at him aghast. "You mean I could have died?"
The hybrid waggled a hand. "It was possible. But it didn' happen. No, sir."
Griffen sat back in his chair, speechless.
"Well, that explains a lot."
"What?"
He gestured with his drink toward the lieutenants. "Why no one in this group attacked me. I've been warned so many times that dragons either fight their way up the food chain or sign on to someone who has more power than they do."
"You was the sacrificial king. It wouldn't have worked without you. You did good, Mr. Griffen. All of N'awlins would appreciate it if they knew."
Griffen gave him a sour look. "Thanks a bunch."
Etienne smiled. "Well, okay, but would you have said yes if I tol' you everyt'ing I seen?"
"No!"
"Then you see why I didn't. Had to be done, and y'all did great." He grinned. "Didn't you have a good time?"
"Yes, I did," Griffen admitted. He felt a warm feeling over the whole experience. Literally. But a pebble of resentment had taken the place of the pinball of fire in his belly. "I have been used by people for their own purposes since before I got here. I'm tired of being the symbol for the union of dragons. I hated being thrown into situations for which I was not ready. It's no consolation to realize I could rise to the occasion. I have just been too nice to say no, I'm not ready, I'm busy, I'm tired, I'm not interested."
"But all the opportunities might pass you by," Jerome said.
"Let them," Griffen said. "I need to learn who and what I am. I know that I am not really everybody's patsy. I just have to stop acting like it."