Robert Asprin - Dragons deal

"Throw me something, mister!" a little voice cried out from the sidelines. Others joined in. Oh, yes! That was something he was supposed to do.

He reached for the hooks containing more neat hanks of beads, thousands of them, in every color, and pitched them toward the watchers on the side. The crowd surged forward like goldfish feeding in a pond, snatching at the glittering snakes that flew through the air. Griffen felt the magic spread out. Remember, Etienne had told him, you have plenty. Be generous, Your Majesty.

He made sure to aim for the children sitting on the top of ladders. The kids caught the offerings with both hands against their chest, their faces full of glee. He plunged a fist into the bucket of doubloons at his side. Like a real king, he spread the largesse to his public. Roars of approval all but drowned out the music behind him.

"Any sign, Griffen?" asked Melinda's voice in his ear.

"Not yet," Griffen said. He peered ahead into the lamplit street. They were only half a block from Canal. If Stoner wanted to prevent a second scepter from doing its job, he didn't have long. But Griffen was well protected. He was surrounded on all sides by fellow dragons, in front of him, occasionally dropping back beside him, behind him . . .

Behind him.

He had forgotten Stoner's gift of stillness. Suddenly, he felt a cold metal ring touch his neck. He didn't have to look down to know it was a gun.

"Hand me the scepter, McCandles."

"You've been back there the whole time, haven't you?" Griffen said. He stared out at the approaching intersection, keeping a smile pinned to his face. The pinball of fire danced in his belly, itching for a fight. Griffen told it to quiet down.

"The question is immaterial. Give me the scepter."

"I can't," Griffen said. "If you know what it is, you know why I need to use it."

"It will create difficulties for my department," Stoner said. "That threatens all of national security."

"But it leaves this city vulnerable."

"You can't make yourself responsible for that."

"It's my home," Griffen said. They were a hundred yards from the intersection. He could feel the waves of power that were left by Holly and Cos. He needed to join to it immediately. He lifted his hand.

Stoner shot out his hand and grabbed for the scepter. Griffen held on to it with both hands. He realized with a moment's wry humor that the agent was dressed as St. George. He had been hiding behind the curtain concealing Griffen's backup supply of throws. Griffen fell onto his back, trying to break the other man's grip. Stoner brought his other hand around in a chop that made Griffen's wrists tingle, but he turned his shoulder into Stoner's chest. There wasn't time to waste. He had to finish the ritual early, even if it made it less effective.

"Fire, I call . . ." he began, trying to lift himself to a standing position. Stoner kneed him in the back. Griffen fell to his knees. They grappled with the scepter between them. Griffen felt it turn in his grip. The fire in his belly sang. A wave of heat blasted from the scepter toward the side of the street.

Children screamed as fire burst out of the windows of the hotel at their back. Emergency crews on the sidelines mustered to move them away from the blaze.

"You see what kind of danger you are putting your home into? This device must be locked away!" Stoner said.

Griffen couldn't leave the paradegoers in danger, but he couldn't pull away from Stoner. The agent plunged two fingers into the muscles of his upper arm. His hand went numb. He switched the scepter to his left hand.

"Melinda!" he choked out.

"We see it," she said in his ear. "Leave it to us. Valerie and I have this under control."

"Mr. Griffen, we're comin'!" Etienne's voice announced.

"Let go now, and I will see to it no charges are filed against you and your colleagues," Stoner offered.

Griffen was so mad that he could hardly see straight. Ruining the parade, putting thousands of people in danger, when there were other times Stoner could have demanded the scepters. Like at Holly's house. He was furious when he recalled the force that almost crushed them. The pinball jumped up and down, demanding satisfaction. Griffen was inclined to deliver it. He looked straight up into Stoner's face and brandished the golden rod.

Fire burst from the dragon's mouth and washed the two of them in a crackling blaze. The watchers let out a shout of surprise.

"What are you doing?" Stoner demanded.

"Get off my float now, or it goes up," Griffen said. He was aware of the flames. They licked at his costume and hair. He didn't feel his skin burning, but he'd deal with that later. "You can't stop me now."

The float continued to roll down St. Charles as they battled for possession of the scepter. Stoner held up a hand to protect his eyes. He stabbed for Griffen's Adam's apple with the other hand. The crowd cheered them, thinking it was all part of the act, St. George battling the dragon. Well, this time the dragon would win.

"This is an obscenity!" Stoner gritted. His sleeve caught fire. He batted it out. "You are in violation of a hundred different laws!"

"I want to see the official paperwork," Griffen said, fighting to get the words out in the parching heat.

"Don't be obtuse. You know this is off the books. The government needs the results, but not everything has official sanction."

"Then get lost," Griffen croaked. "Protecting this city from natural disasters is also in the government's best interests."

Griffen looked up through the smoke. His eyes watered. He blinked them clear. They were still a hundred feet from the intersection. It was a little premature, but it was his best chance. He staggered to his feet. Stoner swept a leg forward and kicked them out from under him. Griffen turned up the heat. The pinball danced with joy. Tongues of fire blazed up from the floor, hiding Stoner from view. Stoner bellowed in pain. Griffen huddled down with the scepter clutched to him, feeling the cape smoldering on his back. He tried to remember the words of the binding ritual.

Suddenly, clouds of white hit him from five different points. Griffen gasped as the fire extinguishers played up and down his body. He just saw Etienne grinning at him over a black plastic cone. He was hauled off the float by dozens of hands. He coughed. More hands pounded him on the back. When his eyes cleared, he found himself on the street in a ring of New Orleans police officers. Stoner, too, was surrounded, but he looked less happy about it. Harrison shoved his face into Griffen's field of view.

"Get back up there, McCandles!" Harrison ordered him. "You've got a parade to finish!"

"You can't let him go, Detective!" Stoner said.

"You tellin' me what to do in my own city again?" Harrison exclaimed, rounding on the government agent. "Get up there!"

Griffen didn't hesitate. He stood up and pointed his scepter to the burning building. A fire truck was parked out front, but its little streams of water would be a feeble aid for a centuries-old wooden structure. Tongues of red began to lick out from under the eaves. The roof would catch any moment.

"Fire, go out!" he bellowed.

The fire went out. It seemed to suck away suddenly into another dimension, so swiftly did it vanish. In delighted amazement, Griffen put out the fire on the float just as quickly. He hoped this new talent lasted beyond his involvement with the scepter. It was really useful. The watchers cheered wildly. They were loving the Fafnir parade and all its unexpected special effects.

Griffen could have cheered, too, as they hauled Stoner away. He could hear Harrison haranguing him all the way to the police van.

He settled into his throne. Ten yards more to go. He felt the lines of Antaeus and Aeolus intersecting over his head. It wasn't the triple knot he was hoping for, but maybe next year. Now was the time for him to call the energy raised by the first ritual and bind it with the others. The city would be protected from wildfires and explosions, better than Homeland Security could. The government could not be everywhere, but this could.