Dragons Luck

Twenty-eight

Mose was tired.

He was tired more often lately. He hardly ever went out anymore. Even then, it was usually just for a stroll or a brief chat with old friends. He had fewer old friends around, and those he did have… Well, he had been in the area too long. They had gotten older; he had started old and stayed that way forever. Or so it seemed to them.

And that age? Mostly only showed on the face and hands. His body was still strong enough that he sure didn’t worry about his safety when he did go out. Sometimes he even left his gate ajar. Not often, he wasn’t often that stupid. Just if he got into a mood. In case someone should try something. A bit of exercise and entertainment. Oh yes, his body was fit, just tired.

There was no doubt about it, he thought wryly, his ass was dragon.

He did keep active though, in his way. It was just that as time went on, he had learned to conserve his energy. These days he had taken up drawing again. He didn’t think he had much talent, but a dragon’s eye and a few centuries of off-and-on practice can do wonders.

He was sitting outside, enjoying the late-afternoon sun, a tall glass of lemonade beside him and a small drawing notebook in his hand. He felt like one of those old men he used to laugh at when he was younger. Except old men in his day didn’t draw. They worked, hard. They played chess. Sometimes they whittled.

He heard the gate open and looked up to see Griffen coming in. The boy was one of the most powerful young dragons he had ever met. Stronger and more varied now as an amateur than Mose had been during his heyday.

Yet he walked toward him hesitantly, almost sheepishly. His whole body language was unsure. Mose had Jerome’s reports that outside, when dealing with others, Griffen was more confident. With his friends he was comfortable. When he had to, he stood as a leader, as a dragon among men. It was only with Mose, and from reports perhaps with Flynn, that he became more meek, nearly subservient.

All the more reason for Mose to back away.

“I started to use my key, but it was unlatched,” Griffen said.

“I like to let the sounds of the street drift in now and again,” Mose said blandly.

“Mind if I pull up a chair?”

“Not a’tall.”

Griffen dragged over the other outdoor chair Mose had for company. Mose would have offered him some lemonade, but it would have meant sending him in for a glass. Too much like sending him off like a servant for the conversation Mose suspected they were about to have.

The two sat in silence for some time. It was a comfortable enough silence, the sounds of the city a soft susurrus around them. Mose felt Griffen’s eagerness but wouldn’t rush him. He never rushed.

“Mose… you know why I’m here.”

“Yes, I reckon I do, but you are going to have to spell it out.”

“I know, but I’m going to have to do it the long way.” Mose nodded and eased back a little more comfortably. He smiled slightly. That was the way he would have done it.

“When I came down here, I had my doubts. Beyond my doubts about myself, I didn’t know what good I could do you. Or why anyone would want to pass over something they’d worked a lifetime for to someone they had never met. The idea that my heritage makes me somewhat more powerful than you doesn’t make a whole lot of sense. You were plenty powerful enough for this group; so is Jerome.”

“Jerome isn’t as strong as I am, Griffen. He knows it. Besides, you can take this group further than I could. It is good people, with good potential. They should be more than just New Orleans grifters.”

“Still, others could have led them.”

“You’re right, I have known dragons who fit the bill, ones I had more direct experience with.”

“So why me?”

“Hmm… mind if I go the long way myself?” Mose asked.

“I made sure I didn’t have anything else planned tonight,” Griffen said.

“Shouldn’t take that long, but us old men, we like to tell stories now and again.”

Mose took a sip of his lemonade as he organized his thoughts.

“Not too long ago, before you were born, there was an election year, and the local authorities really decided to clamp down on the ‘unsavory’ types around here. They went around busting every grifter, bum, con, whore, and lowlife they could find. This was when I was still an employee of this fine organization, not its boss. Before I classed the place up some. And I got picked up doing three-card monte.”

Mose checked Griffen’s reaction; he seemed perfectly content to listen, even though he clearly didn’t see where this was going.

“People got crammed into cages built for a third of what got shoved in, and it was days before anyone even thought to start draggin’ people up to get judged. Now, me, I didn’t mind. A few others who worked in our ring got nabbed, too, so I wasn’t alone. Others weren’t so lucky.”

“You met Jerome, didn’t you?”

“You’re quick, now shut up. No going and ruining a fella’s story by cutting in.”

Griffen smiled and nodded.

“You kinda ruined the punch line, but yep, there was this snot-nosed little urchin, skinny as a snake, and all alone. But that didn’t faze him. Watched that lad go from person to person, looking them over, and moving on. He would chat with a few for a moment, move on again. Never approached anyone likely to rough him up just ’cause he was in arm’s reach. By the end of the first day he had four guys, myself included, lookin’ out for him with nothing expected back. Just ’cause we were the sort to look out for thems that needed it. When they let us out, he looked over the judge, and said, ‘He’s all right,’ and I knew to trust it.”

Mose shook his head and chuckled.

“He’s lost some of his openness with it, learned to keep a button on his lip, not tell everything he sees. But I tell you, Griffen, he may not be as powerful as me, but I never did meet a better judge of character.”

“And he was up in Ann Arbor feeling me out for more than a year,” Griffen said.

“Hell, no, he had you sussed out after the first night. He spent a year getting you ready in case we had the opportunity to pull you down here. Trust is hard to build.”

“But, Mose, that doesn’t tell me why you are backing out now. I still need your advice, but when I thought you were just pushing me away I wasn’t worried. Now Jerome tells me you are pulling yourself more and more out of the loop, and Valerie confirmed it. So what gives?”

“Griffen, you don’t need my advice. In fact, I probably set you back every time I give it. Oh, I help you in the short term, but you have got to stand on your own feet sooner rather than later.”

“So by holding back you are what, forcing me to grow?”

“Something like that, or I would if you weren’t running off to find a replacement for me. You need to be figuring things out yourself, not letting other dragons run you.”

“Flynn helped when you wouldn’t.”

“I choose my own replacements. I chose you!”

Mose stopped and calmed himself. Yelling at him was counterproductive. Even though Griffen got on the defensive about Flynn, it was a good thing. Defensive was better than meek.

“Griffen, you are destined to be a great force in this world. A force of nature practically. If you get it in your head that you need some mentor figure, it will be years before you learn otherwise.”

Griffen got up and paced. Mose watched him, saw that he wasn’t satisfied with these answers. He didn’t want to go the last step, but he owed it to Griffen. Still, to get through to him fully, Mose would have to be blunt.

“Griffen, I’m dying,” Mose said.

Griffen stopped and stared.

“We dragons age funny, but something you’ll hear from all the old-timers is that you feel when your clock is running down. Maybe it’s just in our head, maybe it’s a self-fulfilling prophecy. But on my clock the ticks are getting slower, and there is no way to wind it back up again.”

“How long?”

“I don’t know, but I’ve been feeling it for a while now.”

“I… I don’t know enough to ask if you are sure. You wouldn’t say it if you weren’t sure.”

Mose considered his next comment for the longest time yet, rolling it around in his head, tasting it on his tongue.

“Griffen, I know you think well of me, but you have to remember, low blood or not, I am a dragon,” Mose said.

“And?”

“And dragons can be some of the most selfish bastards you ever did run into when it suits us. You ask why am I backing off. Would you really want to spend your last few years chained to a job, an office? Even as nice an office as this?”

Mose waved to his courtyard, to his house. He picked up his glass and lifted it to the sky.

“So, I think you don’t need me, and I haven’t figured out what I need. So you must forgive an old, selfish dragon and let me try to find the peace I may. Knowing that what I have poured my life into is in good hands.”

Griffen started to say something, and Mose cut him off.

“And, I’d appreciate it if you told Jerome something else, or nothing. He and the others here, they will make a big fuss. I don’t want a big fuss. I’m telling you ’cause you need, and deserve, to know. And ’cause I’ve grown to love you in a real short time, son. But when I do slip away, one way or the other, I want to go quiet. I say, live big, and leave them remembering your living, not your dying.”

“That’s a lot to bear, Mose.”

“You’ve got the shoulders to do it, lad. Jerome saw it, and I’ve seen it. Stop doubting yourself.”

“Well… all I can promise is that I’ll try.”

Griffen started to leave, but stopped as Mose stood up. He walked over to Griffen, and wrapped his arms around him tight. Griffen stood stiffly for a moment, then hugged the older dragon back.

“You’ll do more than try,” Mose said, and smacked Griffen on the back.

Griffen nodded and left, locking the gate behind him. Mose smiled and went back into his house. Inside, he picked up his phone and dialed a number he hadn’t touched in years.

“Hello?”

“Hello, Danielle,” Mose said.

“Papa!”

“I just wanted to say, it looks like pretty soon I’ll be coming for a visit. Time to see my grandchildren and all.”

“Oh, that’s wonderful. Will you be staying long?”

Mose looked out into the sky.

“Might be I will,” he said, “just might be.”