"Just say yes," Val told him.
"Yes," he said, obediently, though his face was set in a mulish expression. "What am I agreein' to do?"
"I'll tell you on the way uptown," Holly said, rising to take his arm. "Come on with us. Griffen, don't worry. We'll be ready for anything. And thanks."
"One more thing," Griffen said. "We need to keep in communication. I brought walkie-talkies. They have earphones so we don't have to hold them up all the time. They're all on the same frequency. It's an open one, but I can't help that." Jerome passed out the plastic blister packages. He and Gris-gris escorted the others out of the house.
"What about us, Griffen?" Callum asked. "You got a strong man to ride your float with you and take care of that scepter? Protecting this city from fire's the most important thing of all."
Griffen stared at him. "I don't have to have anyone else with me. All of you are going to be riding right in front of me."
"Well, what do you expect us to do if this guy turns up?" Terence asked. "He sounds pretty dangerous."
"You're dragons!" Griffen exclaimed.
"Well, but we're not really fighters," Mitchell said.
"It's part of what we are!" He looked around at their puzzled faces. No wonder they had never attacked him or challenged him. They had forgotten what they were. "Look, the guy who is attacking us is another dragon. He's pretty powerful, and he has agents with him, but there are twenty of us against three of him. We can do this! You all claim that your blood makes you more important than anyone else."
"Well, yes," Callum admitted. "So what?"
"Well, what do you think having dragon blood means? What it used to mean? You transform for party tricks? And you were pretty rude to my friend Fox Lisa at the party, and all because you have dragon blood running in your veins. Is that all your heritage means to you? Picking on someone else? Well, I have more, and I am saying you have forgotten what it is to be a dragon."
The group looked at one another.
"You shame us, Griffen," Callum said, reproachfully.
"I hope so," Griffen said. These people had lived all their lives in comfort and privilege. They had gone soft. There had been no such thing as someone like Stoner the last time Fafnir marched. In those days, anything someone did to protect their home was understood. It was more important than letting the government eavesdrop on you. The presumption of innocence meant something. "You don't know what it's like to be under threat. This is it! We are being threatened. I need you to keep these men from taking over something that is important to our whole city. As dragons, you have the power to prevent that. If you want this ritual performed, that is. As your king," Griffen added, though he couldn't believe the words were really coming out of his mouth, "I need your help."
The lieutenants gawked at him as if he were suggesting they dance naked in public.
Melinda flung herself up out of her seat. "What is wrong with you? Never in my life have I seen so many self-righteous, complacent people! What will it take to get you to rise and do something difficult? You have worked tirelessly for the parade and the parties, but not for the ceremony at the heart of your involvement? I don't believe it! Back home, we would eat you cowards for lunch!"
Lucinda's eyes flashed. "We have a different way of doing things here, Mrs. Wurmley."
Melinda turned to regard her. "Well, Mrs. Fenway, how is that working out for you? Look at you! Never mind, Griffen. We don't need them. All it will take to repel this foolish intruder is you, me, and Valerie."
"Hey!" Val protested. Melinda put her hand on Val's shoulder, ignoring her efforts to shrug it off.
"Together we will be far more of a force than all of you put together. This girl here has ten times your potential. She hasn't known of her heritage for more than a few months, and she's more prepared than you are to face a threat."
Griffen watched Val's face change from open hatred to open astonishment. Melinda did honestly seem to appreciate his sister. Val was just starting to realize it.
Mitchell cleared his throat. "We haven't forgotten who we are, Griffen. It's just that y'all are opening up cans of whoop-ass that we sealed up decades back."
"When this is over, you can go back again to the way you were before. This won't change your relationship with your allies. You have a common enemy. What about it? Will you help me?"
"I will," Etienne said. "You'll save the ritual, Mr. Griffen. You'll see to it that dis city and everyone in it is protected from fire."
"I'll do my best," Griffen said. "Look, if I am wrong about these men, then you can blame me later on. If I'm right, then you have to admit that. In any case, I insist. You respect pure blood. I'm invoking it."
"Well, you don't have to put it that way," Callum said. "Of course, if there's going to be a problem, we'll help." The others chorused their agreement.
Griffen almost collapsed with relief. "All right, then let's discuss strategy."
"That was weird," Val said, as they waited for Doreen to pick them up on the curb in front of the Fenway house. Melinda had already departed in her chauffeured car.
"Are you all right?" he asked her.
"Yeah. I . . . have a lot to think about."
Griffen nodded. "If you want to talk, let me know. Excuse me, I have one more call to make."
He took his phone out of his pocket and dialed. "Harrison? It's Griffen. Stoner is in town. He didn't call you? He said it was a matter of national security."
The deafening blare of horn music filled the street outside of Fafnir's den. A giant knight in silver armor over fifteen feet high was the first thing that met Griffen's eye. Only when he got closer, he saw the puppeteer underneath the mannequin's legs, as if he were giving it a piggyback ride. It raised a huge hand and saluted him. A huge green dragon, riding on the backs of two puppeteers, came over to menace the knight. Griffen left them to their game. In the street, hundreds of musicians in a rainbow of uniforms vied with one another to be heard as they tuned up. The smaller floats sat between the super floats. Each had a float captain who shouted at the riders around him to finish setting up and get on board. In turn, Mitchell, the parade captain, shouted at all the float captains through a megaphone. Hooks on each float were loaded with swaying hanks of necklaces. The weather prediction was for sunny but cool, in the upper fifties. Griffen was glad of his gold silk livery and the hearty lunch he had eaten. Both would keep him warm on the front of his float on a cool February evening. He went up the line looking for it.
He had not slept well the night before. Excitement and worry gave him strange dreams. He felt as if he were still in them, passing among crowds of krewe members in full costume, dogs dressed as dragons, and the giant heads on the brilliantly colored and neon-lit floats all looking at him with insane grins.
"Griffen!" Val shouted. She stood up on the maids' float and waved. Fox Lisa and Mai were with her. Their silk gowns and headdresses made them look like ladies from Castle Anthrax. "Good luck!"
To his astonishment, he noticed that Melinda was with them. They were all wearing earpieces. "What's going on?" he asked.
"I am mustering your secondary force, Your Majesty," she said. She pointed to her own float, which was next in line. "I will be able to hear you, but they won't. You were going to waste a valuable resource: these girls. We have made our own preparations."
"Good idea," Griffen said. Val was openly less hostile to her than before. He leaned close to Val, and murmured in a low voice, "Are you all right?"
"I . . . still don't trust her, but she treats me like I matter."
He smiled and patted her arm. He was glad the truce was holding. "You do. Good luck. I know you all know how to take care of yourselves." Fox Lisa patted a fanny pack slung over her shoulder. Griffen blanched. "You're not riding armed, are you?"
"No!" she exclaimed. "But I've got pepper spray. You never know."
Mai smiled at him. "Those knee breeches show off your calves, Griffen. You should wear them more often."
Griffen shook his head. "Next time I'm king, maybe. I'd almost rather wear a tux!"
A handsome white horse trotted up to them. Etienne was on its back in green-scaled mail and a helmet. "C'mon, Mr. Griffen. Get on board! We step off in less than half an hour!"
Griffen followed him to the front of the line, where the rest of the lieutenants milled around on twenty matching white horses. He mounted his float, which looked like the head of a dragon with its mouth open. Hidden inside the lower-front fangs were boxes of throws. He checked them all: the shining metal doubloons, glittering necklaces, and stacks of The Flagon with the Dragon. He grinned and settled himself on his golden throne. Nothing to do now but wait and enjoy.
Antaeus had stepped off an hour and a half before. Griffen had been monitoring their progress through his earpiece. So far, Jerome had reported no suspicious activity or other dragons. Harrison had been in touch, furious about Stoner. It took a lot to convince him that Griffen had not known about Stoner's designs on the scepters all along.
Griffen touched the walkie-talkie attached to his costume inside the back of his belt.
"Antaeus, this is Fafnir. How are you doing?"