"That protection, as you call it, interferes with the spells that we have running to surveil the United States of America. When it is operational, it blocks all scrying or distance-viewing powers. In other words, it blocks this city from view."
"What about ordinary cameras? Microphones? I'm sure you have all that stuff in place."
Stoner didn't even blink. Griffen wasn't sure he ever did. He had eyelids, but perhaps they didn't close--like a snake's. "Our equipment deployment is classified. But there are things that ordinary technology cannot monitor. The spells must not be laid down."
"Now I don't know what you are talking about."
"You're a bad liar, McCandles. You do. I want you to help me."
"I told you I don't work for you."
"National security is at stake here. We cannot adequately protect this country if one part goes under a magical blackout. I warned you not to become involved in a subversive activity."
"This is New Orleans. Half of what goes on in this city is subversive," Griffen pointed out.
Stoner, notably, had no sense of humor. Griffen should have known better than to try. "Not that endangers three hundred million people and their way of life. You have access to those scepters. Bring them to me."
"I can't do that. And I don't have access, except . . ."
"Except when?"
"Except once," Griffen said, lying again and hoping his poker face was good enough to fool the Homeland Security agent. "They let me touch them. I thought it was just a game."
It didn't. "I'm not a fool, McCandles. No one with any sensitivity would miss the punch those things pack. We have been looking for them for years. They are well shielded most of the time. There have been a few times they were detected. We have tried to obtain them at those times. They were . . . protected." Griffen knew what he meant. He realized that it had to be Stoner who was responsible for the attack on Holly's house, the one that he had just barely survived. He was horrified by the thought that Stoner would kill four innocent people to get what he wanted but not surprised. "The next time you have access to them, I expect you to pass them on to me."
When hell freezes over, he thought. "When I get hold of all four scepters, I'll talk to you. But I have no idea if that's even possible."
"That's the cooperation I expect," Stoner said. "I don't want to have to take action when there are so many innocent citizens around who might get hurt. Don't force my hand. I expect to hear from you, or I am going to come and get them myself before they can do any harm."
The Homeland Security agent rose and placed a perfectly crisp new ten on the table. He left. Pearson and another man in nondescript clothes joined him. They went south on Decatur.
Griffen was relieved when Stoner left. He hated to have the man as an enemy, but his demand put them on opposite sides of the situation. To be a noncombatant in Stoner's battles was all Griffen could hope for. But he had no choice. Griffen could not give up the scepters before they had done their job. New Orleans deserved to be protected. No matter how powerful or all-seeing Homeland Security was, it couldn't guard the city all the time from all events. They had to look out for themselves.
In the meantime, they had to protect themselves from Stoner and his agents. Griffen had no choice. He had to warn the other krewes. They would have to prepare.
"We'll be ready for you," Griffen vowed. He left the coffee untouched and ordered a fresh cup and a plate of beignets. He opened his cell phone and hit a speed-dial number.
Lucinda Fenway bustled around her unexpected guests with all the aplomb of a practiced hostess. She saw to it that everyone had a chair and a drink in the large conservatory. "Edith will have some nibbles set up soon. You all relax now." She started to leave.
"Don't go," Griffen asked. "You're part of the krewe, too. You need to know what's happening."
"Well, all right, Griffen," she said, sinking into a handy chair. "You sound so serious."
"I have to be." He stood with his back to the fireplace, looking out over most of the same faces that had been at his party: all the lieutenants of Fafnir who could make it, the other three parade kings and their captains, Val, and to Val's annoyance, Melinda. Jerome and Gris-gris sat on folding chairs near the back. "Thanks for coming. I know it's the day before our parades, but we have a problem that will affect all of us."
Without using names, he told them about Stoner, and described him and the two agents he had seen. "He intends to get the scepters between the time they come out of that shielded case and before we bind the energy that has been building up. To me, that means he is going to try to take them before we get to St. Charles and Canal Street."
"He can't do that!" Callum said. "He can't stop the ritual! We've waited sixty-four years to get this done!"
"He sure is going to try," Griffen said. "He's tough, and he isn't working alone. You have to be prepared. Fafnir is under control. I'm worried about you other three krewes."
Cos Wrayburn leaned back in his chair. "I highly doubt that with all the police out there and the crowds, someone is gonna try and jump us during the parade. We're in plain sight!"
"Look, call me paranoid if you want," Griffen said, but you don't know what you're dealing with. You've honored me by taking me into your . . ."
". . . Fellowship?" Holly suggested.
Griffen smiled at her. "Yes, fellowship. That's a good word for it. I wouldn't mislead you, but you don't have to trust me. You all know Etienne?"
"For years," Bert said, grinning at the Fafnir captain, who threw him a mock salute. "He's a little crazy, but everything he has ever said is going to happen happens. I can't explain it, but I accept it."
"Well, Mr. Griffen is right," Etienne said. "Dere's gonna be an attempt on all of you. Strong men, out-of-towners who don't respect the tradition or Mardi Gras, either. We gotta protect de scepters."
"So what are you suggesting, Griffen?" Cos asked. "Are any of us in danger?"
"Not physically, unless you resist giving it up. I suggest that I put a rider aboard your float who can help protect your scepter at least until the power is harnessed, and at best until the parade is over and it gets put away again for next time."
"Oh, no," the captain of Antaeus protested. "The king float is special for our king. He rides alone."
Cos sat up. "I don't want anyone else on that float with me. I don't need help. If I am to do God's work, God will protect me."
"But what if this is one of those cases in which you're supposed to help yourself?" Griffen asked. "Look, what about a squire? Someone who will hand you doubloons and necklaces when you want them? Snap your fingers for a refill?"
"I kind of like that," Bert said, grinning. "Okay, you can put one aboard my barge. Especially if he can pour drinks."
"All right," Cos said, reluctantly. "But nobody who's gonna act out of turn. I don't want someone who's gonna draw attention away from me. I've been waiting years for this chance, Griffen."
"I have a couple of good people," Griffen assured him. He signed to the two men in the back, who stood up. "Both of them work for me. I will vouch for them absolutely. Gris-gris will ride with you, Bert. He's tough and fast. He follows orders. Cos gets Jerome. He can help you spot the people you have to be on the lookout for."
Cos looked Jerome up and down. "You've got good shoulders. You'll look good in a toga."
"Oh, no," Jerome said, holding his hands in the air. "No toga. But I will wear full mask and costume. I won't look like anything special. I will blend right in."
"That'll do," Cos said. "We're in, Griffen. What about Holly?"
Griffen hesitated. Melinda had offered him some of her men, but he didn't want to use anyone he personally could not trust. "I'm still checking around for someone who is fast, smart, and tough that I know can handle this situation."
"No problem," Val said. Griffen looked at her curiously. She whipped out her cell phone and dialed a number. "Yeah. It's me. Ms. Beautiful. Get here. I want to call in my favor." She smiled at Griffen. "This shouldn't take long."
They waited. Suddenly, squawking came from the hallway. Edith arrived just in front of a short, thin, scruffy-looking male who pushed his way into the conservatory. "He just came out of the fireplace!" she shrieked.
"It's okay, Edith," Callum said. "He's with us."
"Okay, babe, I'm here. What do you want?"
"He'll do it," Val said.