Robert Asprin - Dragons Luck

“Well, that’s him aimed properly, then,” she said to herself.

About a block away she paused and clenched her fists as a wave of frustration passed through her.

“And one day, I’ll figure out how the damned chimeras don’t ruin their clothes in a shift. All the bloody designer outfits I’ve shredded over the years… gah!”

Mai stomped the minor frustration off, and by the time she reached her apartment she was once again basking in a job well-done.

Griffenhad picked up a tail.

Thankfully, this time it wasn’t of the green, scaly variety. That had only happened a few times, and always unexpectedly. Being followed, however, that was becoming far too common for his liking. Since moving to New Orleans, he had been followed by everything from federal agents to a cockroach. Not that he was entirely sure there was a great gap between the two.

This was different, though. Even when Homeland Security had been keeping an eye on him thanks to the interference of a dragon named Stoner, Griffen had been able to identify his watchers with only a bit of effort. This time, try as he might, he had yet to catch a glimpse of whoever, or whatever, was following him. He just knew they were there. It was as if he could feel eyes always on him.

Whoever his tail was, they were disturbingly good.

He had first noticed it early that afternoon. He had gone out a little early to check his public mailbox on Royal Street. There hadn’t been anything interesting, and when he came out, he first picked up the “watched” sensation. Looking around, he saw no people paying him attention nor any cockroaches or big shaggy dogs.

Griffen was learning more and more to listen to his instincts and senses. Though he grew increasingly sure he was being watched, he didn’t really feel any sense of threat. To play it safe, instead of going home as he planned, he swung down to Decatur Street to check out the DVD releases at Tower Books.

His new stalker followed, Griffen was sure of that, but again he couldn’t catch sight of them. He picked up a few DVDs he had been wanting anyway and thought about some of Padre’s advice concerning tails. One line particularly came to mind—change your routine. So where Griffen normally would have taken a right on Chartres and gone down to his place, he went left and popped into a two-story bookstore that he was fond of.

Griffen thought maybe if anyone followed him in, he could catch them in the stacks. He waited and listened, but no one came in. Not once did the bell over the door chime. And still he felt someone was watching, as if someone were right behind him, breathing down his neck.

A bit nervous now, he touched the beads around his neck, the ones given to him by Rose. He was beginning to wonder if she, or one of her ghostly friends, was the cause for all this. But he had never felt her as a presence before. Always when they interacted, she was just there, seeming solid and alive.

Without really thinking about it, Griffen pulled a small book off the shelf and went to the counter. He hated leaving a place without buying something, and he wanted to maintain an illusion of a fairly normal round of shopping. Just in case his pursuer hadn’t yet realized that Griffen had noticed them.

By now Griffen was more than a little edgy. He really didn’t like the constant attention and intrusions that he had been forced to accept since learning of dragons. Keeping his route different from his usual, he headed over to Royal. He picked up his pace, hoping to force his watcher to do the same. Then he abruptly ducked into Pirates Alley, a narrow walkway leading to Jackson Square.

He stopped dead, hoping to catch whoever was behind him as they rounded the corner. His back almost against the wall, keeping himself shielded from Royal Street as much as possible, he waited, sure that he would at least get a glimpse of them.

And waited. Senses stretched to the utmost. Ears and eyes fixed intently, trying to take in everything in front of him.

…And waited some more.

Griffen’s shoulders slumped. Nothing, nobody. Not even a bug or cat or anything. He started to scold himself in his thoughts, sure now that he had just imagined the whole affair.

“Aren’t you going to do anything interesting?” a voice said, from a half foot behind him.

Griffen whirled at the sound. Later, when his heart wasn’t pounding away in his throat, he was sure he would be embarrassed by just how high he’d jumped. He had been so utterly intent on the street in front of him that he hadn’t heard anyone approaching him.

Of course, looking at him, he wasn’t entirely sure he would have heard anyway. It was one of the changelings. The young boy who even in daylight was androgynous enough to be mistaken for a girl. He blinked at Griffen with an oddly mixed expression, curiosity and disappointment.

“You’ve been following me?” Griffen said.

“All day! I figured a dragon would do something better than shop for movies and books. Don’t you do anything interesting?” the changeling said.

“Well, the Quarter doesn’t really start to liven up till sun-down…” Griffen started, cutting off when he realized he was defending himself to a stalker. “You shouldn’t have snuck up on me, sc… startled me half to death.”

“You really shouldn’t admit to being scared. Some of us, we are scared all the time, but we don’t admit it. That just gets you targeted.”

Griffen looked at the young man, who seemed no more than fourteen. Slim had mentioned that the changelings were older than they looked, but that comment clinched it. Even in a lilting prepubescent voice, it betrayed experience and even wisdom a fourteen-year-old would never have.

“Look… I don’t think I got your name when we first met.”

“Because Tink didn’t do the formal introductions. We are fey stock, for cryin’ out loud, and everyone got so excited about meeting a dragon that we skipped the basics. It’s why I thought I’d come find you myself, see if you lived up to the fuss.”

Griffen noticed he still hadn’t told him his name.

“Missed the mark, did I?” Griffen said.

“No, didn’t mean anything like that, Mr. McCandles,” he said hastily. “We are only here ’cause of you; a dragon makes us feel safe. Feel important. Besides, you picked up on me following you. Most wouldn’t.”

“How did you manage to trail me so well?” Griffen said.

“Oh, I can see a little farther than my eyes is all. You felt my gaze even though I was a good four blocks away all the time. Have to say, your tactics are pretty good. Even most of the shape-shifters would have been caught.”

Now the changeling sounded full of admiration. Griffen was beginning to realize that balanced emotions were not going to be this bunch’s hallmark.

“Though your taste in movies stinks. Picking up Stooges when they had Marx Brothers? Really.”

“I already have all the Marx Brothers. Stooges were lower on my list,” Griffen said.

“Well, that’s all right, then. But if anyone puts out Ritz Brothers on DVD, I’m going to have to start looking into some heavy-duty curses. Some things are better left dead.”

Griffen shook his head and decided this conversation needed a radical switch.

“Shouldn’t you be with Tink? Where is he?”

“Oh, umm… let me check.”

Before Griffen could answer the young-seeming man’s eyes went cloudy. Not unfocused, but actual clouds seemed to roll over them, a thin layer of fog appearing to hover just a centimeter over the eyes themselves. Condensation started to form on the ends of his lashes.

“Damn… he is heading toward your Irish pub that you didn’t meet us at last time. From his expression, he’s looking for me through you. I think I’m going to go hide now.”