Robert Asprin - Dragons deal

He missed last-minute krewe meetings, fittings, even meals. The sun rose over nearly silent streets that swiftly filled with shouting, raucous crowds of tourists. It was Mardi Gras out there, but inside, poker was the only thing on Griffen's mind.

He only stopped to eat when his hands started to get shaky. After finishing the one whisky and water, he skipped liquor, drinking coffee or diet soda exclusively. The Eastern dragons did the same thing.

About four hours in they were all desperate for the bathroom. Griffen glanced at his fellow players through a gradually increasing lens of yellow, but he wouldn't go first. Rebecca finally broke, headed for the toilet.

"You must have the weakest bladder in the world!" Jordan Ma snapped at her, the first sign of temper from him. Griffen was glad. It meant the cool-headed dragon was breaking.

Rebecca shot him a hateful look. "I drink when I play. I have been playing. It is good to stay hydrated!"

The others, glad of the excuse to take a break, followed in her wake. Mai threw the old decks into the wastebasket after every few hands, setting them on fire with one gentle breath so no cards could be retrieved. She was like a coin-operated fortune-teller. Only her hands and eyes moved. She didn't speak to anyone, not even Griffen. She was probably angry with him for roping her in and would probably take it out on him later when they were alone, but he was glad for her silence. He focused on every turn of the card, every chip that clinked into the pot. Griffen was playing for real.

To the others, this was not life and death. Except possibly for Peter, poker had never been their sole support. Only Griffen knew the desperation of needing to make money by his wits and skill. They could not have that edge. He did. This was more than life and death. He had barely begun to acknowledge his heritage, to learn what it meant to be a dragon, to take on his own power and learn about it. He was not going to get driven out of town by a bunch of tourists . His muscles ached, and the chair padding felt thinner and thinner as the raucous afternoon became loud and musical night, but his mind stayed sharp. It had to.

Gradually, the stacks between his wrists grew larger and larger, as the piles belonging to the others shrank. Winston Long went all in on a hand that Griffen knew from his twitching eyelid was a bluff. He confidently matched the call as well as a side bet from Peter, and stripped the table bare of brilliant gold coins when his hand proved the stronger. Pack removed himself from the table, with a philosophical half smile. The remaining players showed signs of desperation. Griffen found himself grinning ferally at them. This was real card-playing. He felt more alive at that moment than he had in months. Being an executive, a responsible human, a lover, a friend were satisfying, but not like this, not like a game of chance where every move was significant. Every hand could bankrupt him and send him into exile.

Rebecca got more nervous as her stash of gold ran down. Griffen took advantage of it by making large raises against her in each hand that she seemed to have mediocre cards, according to the rapidity of her blinks. Peter let out an amused snort when he saw what Griffen was doing but didn't intrude or try to rescue his fellow dragon. In fact, he seemed almost pleased when Griffen finally wiped her out. Rebecca pulled away from the table with a grim face and went to join Winston. Griffen heard her whispering angrily. Winston tried to calm her. She got up and started pacing.

"Stop that at once," Jordan Ma ordered, without looking up from his cards. "Winston?"

"Sit down, child," the old dragon said.

Rebecca regarded him with dismay. "But he has taken all my gold!"

Winston raised weary eyes. "You lost, young one. He won. That is how it works. You knew it was at hazard. Now it is gone."

"I want it back! He can't keep it!"

"Stop it!" Jordan ordered. Rebecca glowered at him. Griffen watched his hand carefully. Jordan circled his forefinger on the back of his hand once. So the cards were good, but not that good. Griffen pressed his lips together. He had ace-three unsuited, but Jordan wouldn't know that. He pushed out eight stacks of the heavy yellow coins.

"I am putting you all in."

Jordan looked up at him in surprise. Rebecca's distraction had made him lose track of the betting. He looked down as Mai turned over the river card. It was an ace. One pair. Jordan hesitated.

"Call or fold," Griffen said.

Jordan glanced at his hand. "Call." He stacked his remaining eight piles of chips and gold in the center, his advancing armies meeting Griffen's.

Griffen turned over his hand. Jordan bent his head a fraction of an inch. "Very neatly done, Mr. McCandles. Very neat. You caught me off guard, and I fell for it." He threw in his cards without revealing them. Mai gathered them up. Griffen wished she had shown him what he had beaten, but it wasn't really that important.

That meant the last dragon standing was Peter.

Griffen looked at him. He still saw the friendly young man with the gelled-up hair who had become a friend to him over the last couple of months. He realized that on the one hand, Peter had betrayed his confidence to the others. On the other, they had played some good cards, each relishing a really worthwhile opponent. Griffen gulped coffee to prepare himself for a multihour session. It would take a long time to finish Peter off. Griffen was getting tired, but he could do it.

Then he changed his mind.

"It's not worth it, Peter. Let's get it all over with. One hand, winner take all."

Peter was surprised, but the idea appealed to him. He nodded slowly.

"Why not?"

"You're not serious," Mai said.

"I am," Griffen said. He had relied upon skill, cunning, courage, and patience, but to win in a single hand required luck. If he didn't have that, none of the others would make a difference in the long run. If he was meant to stay in New Orleans, let the Big Easy prove it to him. "Let's play."

"Okay, then." Peter sat back with his fingers interlaced behind his head.

Both of them sounded casual, but they were deadly serious. Mai opened the last new deck and shuffled it crisply. She doled out two cards to each of them and set the deck down.

Griffen didn't even look at his cards.

"All in," he said. "I'll match what you are holding."

"Griffen, no!" Mai exclaimed. "Don't do it like that!"

"You are joking," Peter said.

"Not at all," Griffen said. "Absolutely nothing I do now would change what I've been dealt. It's one hand. You have exactly the same chance of winning or losing that I do. It's a major stake. What do you say?"

The other dragon smiled broadly, showing sharp white teeth. He put his hand down without looking at it. "I agree. Just lay out the other five cards, Mai. No sense in prolonging the agony."

Griffen held his breath. This was a turning point in his life. Mai flicked out the flop, the turn, and the river facedown, then showed them one by one.

Three threes and two twos. Griffen laughed out loud.

"Let's see 'em," Peter said.

"You first."

Peter grinned. He flipped over the first card. A king. Then the second.

Another king.

"Full house," he said.

Griffen's heart pounded, but he was trusting to the little voice in his head. He turned over the first card.

An ace.

His mouth was dry as he went for the other card. Another ace would cement his victory. There were three more in the deck. He fervently expected, no, hoped, to see one. How badly did the Big Easy want to keep him there? He wanted desperately to stay. He had changed his whole life to be there. Let chance show him that he had made the right decision. He turned the card.

A three.

Four of a kind. The only card other than an ace that would make that hand work was right there under his fingers.