Robert Asprin - Dragons Luck

Some were bad.

“The cards say you will marry but never have children. You will excel in business but never own one. You need to learn to communicate more with people.”

Drake smiled at the reader across from him. His smile did not match his young features.

“I’ve already had three kids, no wives, and my youngest is about your age. Don’t get me started on the businesses.”

And some… well, “ugly” just didn’t describe it.

“This… this is impossible. No one can have this many life lines… and they keep changing! Don’t you ever stay the same?”

“Well… hold on. Let me try.”

The young shifter looked down at her hand and focused. The reader’s eyes crossed as the lines on her hand truly changed, the many wrinkles merging into one deep line, almost in the exact center of her hand.

“Is that better?” she asked innocently.

“That… that… that’ll be twenty dollars if you please.”

“Sure thing.”

Griffen’s attention was drawn to Robin and Hobb. They were actually standing behind one of the vampires, who was getting his cards read. The reader, an elderly man with an exaggerated lisp and a pink cowboy hat, was having some difficulties.

“Death card… again,” the reader said.

All the cards on the table were death cards. Five of them in all.

“Is that some kind of trick deck?” the vampire said, scowling.

“No… no… someone must be playing a trick on me. The readers are competitive here… Let me try another deck.”

Neither noticed Hobb elbow Robin in her ribs soundly. Griffen could just make out her comment as she giggled and elbowed him back.

“What? James Bond did it… kinda.”

“Say, that gives me an idea.”

Hobb leaned closer and whispered in her ear. She giggled.

“Ah, that’s better,” the reader said as he laid out the cards, “the Lovers.”

“That woman on the card…” said the vampire.

“Yes?”

“That’s my mother!”

Griffen was already hauling the two changelings away by their collars. He could hear the reader try to apologize fifteen feet away.

He was about to lay into them when again his instincts hit him in the pit of his stomach. He looked around and saw a very sedate shifter sitting at a table Griffen hadn’t noticed before. The woman reading his cards had a shawl over her head, her face hidden. The shifter got up, walked right past Griffen, and left the Square. His face was troubled.

Griffen, forgetting the changeling couple for a moment, walked toward the now-vacant seat. The reader lifted her head, a faint smile playing across her lips then fading just as quickly.

“Hello, Rose,” Griffen said.

“Read your cards, young man?” she said.

She didn’t acknowledge his greeting, not even with her eyes.

“Look, I…”

“Sit, I can’t say much right now, but I can read your cards.” Griffen sat.

Rose nodded and began to shuffle an old battered deck. She blew on it before handing it to him. The cards felt oily and thick, more like fabric than paper. She had him cut the cards, then hand them back.

She laid out seven cards in a line. Griffen had never had his cards read, but from what he had seen, most readers used an intricate pattern, a cross or a horseshoe or even a star. She merely laid a line.

“Turn over the first card,” she said.

The first card was Death.

Griffen looked up and around suspiciously.

“No, it isn’t the changelings this time. You know what is on your mind, and what is causing you the most grief. This is the card of the now.”

“Is Slim—”

“I may only read the cards. Turn over the next two.”

The Five of Wands, the Seven of Wands, both reversed. “You are conflicted inside, and at the same time spreading yourself too thin. These two cards together are disaster. Continue to try and do everything when you don’t know what you even want, and you will only rip yourself up inside,” Rose said.

“So what else is new? But how can I—”

“Flip the next two.”

Griffen did. They were the Hermit reversed and the Seven of Swords.

“My, you do like conflicting pairings,” Rose said. “The Hermit reversed, you can’t do everything on your own, you have to accept the help of those who offer it. But the Seven of Swords, you can’t trust many of those around you. They are poised to stab you in the back. You must be very careful to know your true allies.”

Griffen reached toward the last two cards.

Rose reached out and rapped his knuckles with something long and hard. He didn’t see what exactly before it disappeared again. It was covered with beads and a few hanging feathers, and it stung.

“I didn’t tell you to turn over the cards,” she said with a smile.

“I thought ghosts couldn’t hurt you unless you let them,” Griffen groused.

“You chose to sit down, didn’t you?” she said, smiling more. “Turn over the cards.”

The Princess of Swords and the Princess of Cups, both reversed.

“Women, it always does seem to come down to that. One unbalanced of the mind, one frustrated of the heart. Neither is a solution card, so these are the end of this road, but not a full answer. You will be left wanting.”

“I repeat, so what else is new?”

“Nothing,” Rose said, and she stood.

Griffen took that as a cue and stood as well. She smiled and reached out, as if to brush her fingers over his cheek. Only they passed through with only a bare whisper of sensation. She had seemed perfectly solid before.

“Good luck, Griffen. I will probably see you before the end of all this. Oh, and would you tell those adorable little changelings something for me?”

“Sure. What?”

“That their child will be fey.”

With that, she and her table were gone. No one seemed to notice but him, but then no one had noticed them arrive. Griffen stood there and, with a frustrated sigh, rolled his eyes.

“Oh, sure, how am I supposed to work that into a conversation?!”

He was almost sure he could hear Rose’s laughter on the wind.

Allgood ideas get screwed up in committee.

There were multiple reasons the conclave utilized speakers for each of the groups, and those representatives were not chosen at random. Simply put, some of the members of the conclave weren’t the sharpest. Not to mention well behaved.

Rumor already ran rampant among the lesser members attending. They debated back and forth constantly. Was Griffen guilty? Innocent? What would the speakers do either way? What should be done about the police? Most of those attending were concerned, and afraid. A few, though, found this to be the most exciting conclave ever, and were constantly playing devil’s advocate to keep the conversation flowing.

Within hours of the impromptu decision to investigate the murder independent of the police, everyone knew. No one quite knew how the rumor leaked so fast, though a few of the vampires were likely candidates. They had been stirring up the discussion and sitting back with happy smiles as the emotions flared.

However, Tail, whether he knew it or not, was part of what made it worse. He had, in effect, spoken for the shifters on how they could, or would, help such an investigation. It was a small thing, but he had gone over Jay’s head. Jay, the chosen representative. Any other time, it would have been no problem. But when things are unstable, a bubble of vacuum in the power structure, no matter how small, can be a catalyst.

Griffen didn’t know any of this. All he knew was he had been called in, again. And once again, he had to leave his home and rush over to deal with conclave matters. At four in the morning, because some young shifter had decked one of the garou.