Rose raised her eyebrows.

“You may wish to consider carefully before agreeing,” she said. “It is not something I would ask slightly, nor something you should agree to hastily.”

“Okay. What’s the favor?” Griffen said, grateful for the out.

“Every thirteen years there is a gathering of supernatural and spiritual beings,” Rose said. “A conclave, if you will. The location rotates through various host cities. There is one happening this year over the Halloween weekend, and New Orleans has been chosen to host it.”

“So what’s the favor?” Griffen frowned. “Do you want me to be a speaker or something? If so, I don’t really think I’m qualified. Mose would be a better choice. If you’d like me to, I could ask him.”

“I actually had a more active role in mind,” Rose said, carefully. “If you are agreeable, it is my wish that you serve as moderator for the conclave.”

“Moderator?” Griffen echoed. “I’m even less qualified for that than to be a speaker. I don’t know any of these people… or types.”

“That’s what makes you the perfect choice,” Rose said. “You have no affiliation or alliance with any of the groups attending. More important, you’re a dragon. Dragons don’t usually attend these events, so everyone will be a little scared of you. It will help keep everyone in line.”

“Keep them in line?” Griffen said with a frown. “What sort of beings are going to be attending this conclave?”

“Think of them as normal conventioneers in town for the weekend,” Rose said. “You certainly have enough experience dealing with that from your time in the Quarter.”

“So does everyone else who lives here,” Griffen countered. “What do you need me for?”

“How do normal conventioneers act?” the voodoo queen pressed.

“Well, usually they wander through the Quarter, drink too much, make passes at the locals and each other, and sometimes wander down the wrong streets at night and get mugged or into a fight,” Griffen recited. “The pattern doesn’t change that much whether they’re sailors or librarians.”

“Now imagine that same behavior at a supernatural conclave.” Rose smiled.

Griffen did, and didn’t like the image he got.

“I see your point,” he said. “But seriously, Rose, I wouldn’t know what to do or where to begin.”

“I can help you with that as the event approaches,” Rose said. “This conclave is important… potentially crucial for the future of everyone involved. The important thing is that you agree to help.”

“But…”

“You do agree, don’t you?”

“Well, yes, but…”

The bedroom door opened, and Fox Lisa emerged blinking into the light.

“What’s up, lover?” she said, yawning into a fist. “I thought I heard voices.”

“It’s just…” Griffen began, then realized that Rose had disappeared.

“Unexpected visitor?” Lisa said, peering around the room. “Hell, invite her in. You know I don’t mind.”

“I… I don’t think that would be a good idea,” Griffen said, wondering how much he should explain, if at all.

“Lighten up, lover,” Fox Lisa said with a bawdy wink. “I keep telling you you’ve got to get into the spirit of the thing.”

Griffen was totally unable to explain why he found that so hysterically funny.

“You did what?!”

The outburst took Griffen aback. He was sitting in Mose’s, as he so often found himself when seeking Mose’s advice. It had occurred to Griffen previously that, outside of card games, he had rarely seen Mose out of the older man’s home. Whether Mose was simply more comfortable in his own surroundings, or he just didn’t like to get out in the Quarter, Griffen couldn’t be sure. Regardless, his usually stoic guide seemed unduly stressed.

“I agreed to Rose’s request. What else could I do considering the help she has given me?” Griffen said.

“Look, son, I know your sense of honor has swelled up a whole lot more than most of the people your age. But you’ve never struck me as this stupid,” Mose said.

Griffen looked at his mentor in confusion. He had never found Mose this unbalanced, not to mention harsh. A part of himself winced over his teacher’s roughness, the rest of him hit the other end of the scales. He wanted to retaliate.

“I don’t see how agreeing to an ally’s need is stupid, Mose,” he said.

Mose seemed to draw himself inward, centering.

“Sorry… sorry. Wrong phrasing, Griffen. You caught me by surprise is all. That doesn’t happen much when you reach my age.”

Griffen watched as Mose’s eyes momentarily fogged, as if he were looking at memories and times long since past. Griffen had grudgingly learned that a dragon’s outward appearance had little to do with his actual age. His friend Jerome had been the first to show that to him—a man he knew as another face around campus who had turned out to be much, much older than Griffen.

Still, Mose was such a timeless figure in so many ways, that this momentary display of emotions further set Griffen aback. The older dragon suddenly seemed… tired.

“I don’t get it, Mose,” Griffen said. “What is so startling about this all?”

“Well, to start off, I would never have expected Rose coming to you, or anybody for that matter, with such a request,” said Mose.

Griffen hadn’t thought about that yet. Rose was in many ways an enigma to him. He had no experience with voodoo queens or ghosts, and found the combination of the two a little disconcerting. He leaned forward, obviously curious about Mose’s take on things. The other man shook his head, expression and tone growing more calm and controlled by the moment as he centered himself.

“Well, it’s not an everyday request from just anybody. Don’t get me wrong, Rose was a fine woman while alive. And I’ve heard nothing but good things about her since she has crossed to the other side. Still, I don’t pretend to understand her motivations. In this, or in anything.”

“Well, make some guesses. What do your instincts tell you?” Griffen asked.

“The big one is that these kind of meetings tend to get real cliquey real quick. In years past, Rose would be representative if not head of the local voodoo community. Now she’s switched groups. She represents the spirits and ghosts and wandering souls, and maybe there will be some confusion about just whose interests she is most concerned with.”

“That’s not all, is it?”

For once Mose showed his emotions fully, half-rising out of his chair and his face flushing. This alone let Griffen know how much the matter was taxing him.

“Of course not! You don’t have any idea what goes on at this type of thing! You are far too young, far too new on the scene, to take on such a responsibility. Dragons don’t usually take part in these conclaves, and when it gets out that you’re not only attending, but helping to run it as well, you’re gonna have everybody and their kid brother watchin’ to see how you do. Anything goes wrong, you could end up holdin’ the bag. At the very least, it would be an embarrassment and a loss of face. At worst… I just don’t know.”

Griffen paused for a moment, keeping himself calm before responding. The comment about his youth, as well as his ignorance, got him more riled up then he would ever have expected.

“So, what do I have to expect?” Griffen said, keeping his voice controlled and outwardly calm.

He had half expected a full rundown right then. Mose had been his most valuable source of information since he had fallen into a world full of dragons and strangeness. What he didn’t expect was for Mose to look away, seemingly embarrassed. Again, the older man took a deep breath, calming himself before speaking and obviously hiding his embarrassment.

“To be honest, Griffen, I don’t know. Never in my long years did I attend such a conclave, much less moderate one. Dragons don’t ‘lower’ themselves to such meetings as a rule. In my case, it just never came up.”