“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.”