Dragons Luck by Robert Asprin Page A

can go wrong with very little upside.”
    “Of course, there’s the status,” Estella said, carefully.
    “Then, too, it would be an ideal position for someone, say, who wanted to gain more influence over the various groups. Maybe even controlling influence.”
    Griffen shook his head wearily.
    “I’ve already had this conversation once with Slim,” he said. “I have absolutely no interest in organizing or gaining control of other groups. I have a gambling operation I’m trying to run. That’s it. I wouldn’t know what to do with any of these groups even if I were given control.”
    “Are you sure you’re a dragon?” Estella said with a faint smile.
    “As sure as I am of anything these days,” Griffen replied.
    “Well, you sure don’t sound like one,” she said. “At least not like any dragon I’ve heard of. So if you don’t want to moderate the conclave, why are you doing it?”
    “I was asked,” Griffen said. “Frankly, I couldn’t think of a way to say no.”
    “And just who was it that asked you?”
    “I don’t think it’s a big secret.” Griffen shrugged. “Rose asked me. Or maybe I should say her spirit.”
    Estella leaned back in her chair.
    “That’s what I heard,” she said. “If you don’t mind, could you describe her for me?”
    “Well, she’s black, looks to be in her midthirties. Her hair is very thick, and she wears it long… halfway down her back. About six inches shorter than I am, and I noticed her hands have very long fingers.”
    He hesitated, trying to put words to the picture in his mind, but Estella waved him to silence.
    “That’s her, all right,” she said. “I was just having a little trouble believing it is all.”
    “Why?” Griffen said, taken aback. “I thought that communicating with the spirits of the dead was one of the main beliefs of your group.”
    “It is,” Estella said. “I just can’t figure out why she’s approaching you… without even a ritual… when I haven’t seen or heard from her since she died. I mean, I am the one who took over the temple and have been running it ever since.”
    “I… I really don’t know,” Griffen said, a bit shaken. “If you’d like, I’ll ask her the next time she contacts me. Unfortunately, she seems to pick her own time and places. I’ve never been able to figure out how to initiate contact.”
    “It’s no big thing,” Estella said. “It made me curious is all. I guess that answers the questions I had. You can count on the support of me and mine at the conclave. Oh, and, Mr. McCandles?”
    Griffen cocked his head at her.
    “Don’t be too quick to discount the usefulness of any of these groups. We may not be hotshot dragons, but we’re not exactly powerless, either.”
    “Wait a minute,” Griffen said quickly. “I didn’t mean to speak poorly of your group or any of the others who will be at the conclave. When I said I wasn’t interested in trying to influence or control them, I only meant that I couldn’t see any way they would be of help to my gambling operation.”
    “I’m just saying you should withhold judgment.” Estella smiled. “We just might surprise you.”

Seventeen
    Early morning in the Quarter. The quiet time, the dead time. Garbage trucks had already been by to pick up the refuse of the night before. Most of the bars were closed, most of the music lowered to a dull murmur. Few tourists who came to New Orleans had the stamina to last the night. Locals drifting home from after-work downtime. Homeless, too tired to bother asking the occasional passersby for spare change. And a bare handful of people heading out to more conventional nine-to-five jobs. That was all that stirred at such an hour.
    Val often found herself awake at this hour. Sometimes she just woke early and couldn’t get back to sleep. Today though, she hadn’t yet been to bed, and although she was a bit groggy, she felt way too wired to even think about sleeping. She had to be at work in three hours and,