Greed is Good Part 5: Coffee Break (1st Draft)
This is post #5 of 5 in the series “Greed is Good”
I gazed at the medallion, absentmindedly flipping it from side to side. I was supposed to be unravelling it's mysteries, but my mind was elsewhere. The revelation that Blue Ridge Casino is owned by an actual, genuine, true life, dragon was not an easy one to process, but it was unmistakably true. Right now there was a silver dragon in residence no more than ten minutes from my house.
Yes, dragons can take human form, do you think they'd have stayed hidden this long if they couldn't, and yes, it's possible to tell a dragon's color even when they are in human form. Thinking about it after the fact it did rather make sense, dragons in general have a fondness for gold, or failing that money in general and silver dragons, well, they're the smart ones in the family. Actually calling himself Drago though, that was just arrogant.
I wondered idly if he was the cause of the strange behavior at the casino. But it didn't really fit, not least because all of that behavior had happened before he got there. Which suggested there was more than one form of magic at work. I had no doubt it was magic, some things are too ridiculous to be explained any other way.
My phone buzzed. It was Mercedes, performing another miraculous research feat.
Mercedes: Sante Drago, AKA the Silver Dragon. 65 yrs old. Emigrated to the US thirty years ago. Rich. Secretive. People who cross him disappear.
Well that wasn't very encouraging was it? Not that I really wanted to cross a dragon, I mean just the whole fire breathing thing makes a person a little nervous. I made a note to do a little research into fire resistance, you never know.
Mercedes: Dragons, magical creatures. Short tempered. Physically strong. Dangerous.
Brodie: Stating the obvious Mercedes.
Mercedes: In human form they're only a little stronger than a regular human, but they still have access to some magic. Older dragons are claimed to be able to mentally dominate people.
Well that was something I could work with. After all Drago couldn't exactly turn into a mystical creature in full view all the customers at his casino could he? I wondered how old he really was. Dragons lived hundreds of years, even I knew that, if he looked sixty he must be five to ten times that old. Maybe I could conduct my investigation without involving him? Yeah, sure.
Of course it would be a lot easier to figure out what was going on if I had a better feel for the pulse of the magical community round here. Up to now though I'd deliberately steered clear of that, it's hard to maintain a low profile when you're attending weekly meetings.
But, it was time to admit that hiding just wasn't going to work. Stuff was happening here and elsewhere. Sticking my head in the sand wasn't going to protect me. Before I could change my mind I flipped over to the Facebook page I'd been looking at earlier.
It didn't outright call itself a group for practitioners of magic, because that would be crazy, but there are code words that have grown up over time and this one used them all. They met every Wednesday, time to introduce myself.
Charles Town doesn't offer a lot of choice when it comes to coffee, if you don't like the major chains or purchasing at a gas station. The Coffee Ground isn't fancy, but they are at least able to serve me a coffee that tastes like coffee. They have all the fancy options too mind you and probably have the biography of the person who ground the beans, but they know to get out the way and give me a black coffee when I ask for one.
Which is why I arranged to meet Charles Allen there. Well, that and the fact I certainly wasn't going to let him in my house, I might never get him to leave again. Charles was an expert in dead languages, he was also an expert in boring people to death.
"An unusual piece this." Charles waved his hand at the photo in front of him. "No chance I could see the original?" His voice took on a faintly wheedling tone.
I shook my head firmly. "It's a little too valuable to be moved around."
"Well, quite. I remember a few years ago when I was doing some research for the British Museum. We were cataloging and transcribing some Egyptian hieroglyphs. Anyway one of the others, Stephen I think it was, he drops the tablet."
"Quite." I said, trying to bring him back to the topic at hand. "So what does it say?"
"Hmm? Oh I'm not sure. It's Elamite certainly, you're right about that, probably Middle Elamite, though it could be Old Elamite, it's not always easy to tell the difference and the further back you go the less references we have to draw on." He picked up the photo and peered at it more closely.
"The Persian's really were a remarkable society. I had a colleague some years back, an Iranian, very bright man."
"Would he be able to translate this?" I asked.
Charles blinked. "Oh, no." He said dismissively. "It's not his field at all." He put the photo down and took a sip from the pale coffee like substance he had purchased. I had counted at least four spoonfuls of sugar being added after he got it.
"Elamite is an isolated language you see." He began his lecture again. "That makes it harder for us to translate. But I think I may be able to do something, with a little time."
"Take as long as you need." I said, just keep me posted.
Charles beamed at me. "Oh I will." He said happily. "You can expect frequent reports!"
"I look forward to it." I said as I stood and made to leave, but Charles was apparently immune to sarcasm. He was staring at the photo again, his lips moving silently. I shook my head in amusement and walked out the shop and back into the bright sunshine.
I hadn't made it back to my car when the phone rang. I didn't recognize the number and did what I always do, ignored it. By the time I was sitting down in my car the phone buzzed again, this time with a voicemail notification.
"Brodie." It took me a moment to place the voice, but then I realized it was Doug the werewolf. "Rick's missing. Call me."
Not even a please, typical. I had no intention of calling Doug back, it set a bad precedent, but Rick's absence was more than a little disturbing, what with all the other weirdness going on at the casino. I made a mental note to ask Wayne about him this evening.
Next: Part 6 — Food Fight
Greed is Good is weekly serial sequel to The Wolves of West Virginia, which is available on Kindle.
by Eoghann Irving [-]
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