Koshi (5 page)

She’d decided to risk it all and go with her heart on this decision.

Higher on the barren side of the volcano jutted out a large flat rock. That must be her stage. No trees grew here. A few scrubby bushes and weeds scattered around the hillside, then petered off in the higher altitude, but the view of the ocean was spectacular.

Different shades of blue as far as she could see. She’d never seen anything quite like it.

The stone stood about two feet off the ground and she climbed on, careful not to tear her dress. On wobbly heels, she gazed at the clear sky and the top of the volcano. Could she sing loud enough for him to hear her? The top was distant.

She didn’t have a full repertoire of songs to choose from. Most of the ones she remembered were from preschool. She doubted he’d want to hear a hearty rendition of
Pop Goes the Weasel
. She scanned the sky once more. Maybe she could flag him down if he flew by?

* * * *

Yawning until his jaw cracked, in dragon form Koishi stretched inside the entrance to his lair. He could watch the rock he’d placed from here, and had been waiting all day. That rock was heavy so she’d better show. He rolled over and eyed the spot once more.

Sandra stood upon it in a dress matching the blue of the ocean behind her. Short sleeved, buttoned to her throat, with the hem below her knees. She looked like she belonged in a church, not on the side of his home waiting to make a deal with a monster. He shook his head. His new toy was becoming more and more amusing.

Except she wasn’t following the rules he’d set. Where was the singing? He couldn’t very well show up without some kind of summoning. That broke all kinds of etiquette. He scratched his chin and watched as she scanned the sky once more as if he flew over the island in broad daylight every day. Like it or not, there were some laws to being a gatekeeper, and not riling the locals into a pitchfork-wielding mob was one of them. He’d take a hummed ditty at this point.

His gaze kept drifting to the thing she carried under her arm. It must be his gift. He hoped he liked it. Even if he didn’t, her company the last two days was enough for some small trade.

She squared her shoulders and took a deep breath–about time–and belted out an off-key rendition of
The
Star Spangled Banner
.

He jerked and slammed his head against the roof of the cave. Very well. It was a song, an odd choice, but a song nonetheless. He rubbed his head absently before soaring onto the mountain side.

Her voice petered off.

“Don’t stop on my account.” He called out as he crept closer.

The color had drained from her face.

“Finish.” He waited. She was about to pass out or run screaming. Either way, he prepared to catch her.

Sandra swallowed visibly and shifted her weight on the heels she wore.

He appreciated the curve of her calves. She had nice long legs. The kind that could fold around a male’s hips and give him leverage.

Taking a deep breath, she continued singing with a shaky voice.

Good girl. He liked her spunk and misguided courage.

She wanted something badly from him. Of his riches there were quite a few valuable items, but Sandra appeared less and less of a treasure hunter. She wore little gold, except that splendid necklace, and didn’t dress like someone who enjoyed wealth. Nothing about her matched his expectations, which was charming.

He blinked. The song must have ended.

She stood staring at him, poised as if ready to jump off the rock. “I–I brought you a gift.” She opened a pad of paper, flipping through the pages, and then held it up for him to view.

Squinting, he peered at the picture. It was a charcoal sketch. Of him? The drawing depicted him flying in the storm. Grinning, he glanced at her. It wasn’t the same one she’d shown him yesterday afternoon. This picture contained more detail, and skill that almost brought it to life. She’d made a real effort to please him.

She trembled and one knee gave out a little but she didn’t fall. She straightened. “You don’t like it.”

He tilted his head to the side and remembered to stop smiling. Mortals always mistook it for a snarl. “No, it’s nice work. Koishi told me that you watched me fly in the storm.”

She nodded. “Can’t the lightning hurt you?”

He let loose a snort of laughter. “Sure.” Her curiosity had won over her fear. A good sign. “That’s the point of flying in a storm. There’s not much in this realm that can hurt me. It was quite a flight.”

“You were thrill-seeking? You’d think guarding the gate would be enough.”

“It usually is, but I find myself less occupied than usual and searching for…entertainment elsewhere.” He slid his long neck over the rough surface of the ground to circle the flat rock she stood upon. Sandra had an independent streak he didn’t want to squash, and abducting her to his den would probably not win her over. He liked his females willing and eager.

His human form was considered attractive. The game of seduction always appealed to him, but he’d been immersed in the Asian culture for so long, he wasn’t sure how to proceed with a woman from America. The thought left a fluttery feeling in his empty stomach. How interesting.

Twisting one way, then the other, she regarded the full length of his body. “You’re much bigger than I expected.”

“Why else would the gate have chosen me?” He expanded his wings for her inspection. He truly was a splendid specimen. “All the better to fight with.” He enjoyed the way her eyes traveled along his form.

He drew closer to her and examined his portrait still in her hands. “I will accept this gift, but I fear I may tear it.” He wiggled the claws of his hand. “Give it to Koishi and he’ll bring it to me.”

“Okay,” she whispered and closed the book, tucking it under her arm.

“Why have you summoned me, Sandra?”

She retreated a little. “How do you know my name?”

Fuck. A dragon face was less expressive than a human one, thank goodness. “I–uh–am the dragon Ishi. I know all that happens on this island. How else am I supposed to protect the Takai Crossing?” That sounded wise. Sort of. His human-self could have mentioned her to his dragon-self, right?

“I was told you owned a saji.”

His lungs burned, since he seemed to have forgotten how to breathe. Who had shared that information? It wasn’t the most powerful item he owned, but somehow she knew exactly what was in his hoard.

She stood as if turned to stone. “I’d like to use it.” Clearing her throat, she met his gaze. “Please.”

Just like that? Trade a hand-drawn picture for the use of his supposedly-secret magical item? Either she truly was incredibly naive, or the most intelligent thief he’d ever met, because he had half a heart to say yes. He leaned on his elbows and brought his head level with hers. She smelled of truth, and he snorted the disturbing scent from his nostrils. This left him little choice. His honor demanded the trade.

Magic didn’t exist in Inverness, but some magical items could be charged in Outremer and used here. He owned a few and a saji was among them. He didn’t lend things, though. That was so pedestrian. “I don’t–”

“I have some money. I could rent it.” She swallowed visibly. “Maybe.”

He leaned in closer until his nose almost touched her. “Rent?” The question was all he could manage while attraction and insult warred inside his heart. One didn’t rent things from a dragon. They stole or traded or tricked it from him.

She stepped away, but her ankle twisted and she fell to her knees. Her gaze traveled up to his. “Yes.” Her answer came out soft as breath.

Gently, he snaked his tail around her waist and lifted her. “How would I know you’d return with it?” He watched the twinkle of sunlight dance upon her golden necklace. It sparkled with an intense sense of personal attachment. That made precious metal extra appealing. The love ebbing from it almost made his teeth ache. “I’d rather make a trade.”

“I don’t own much.”

“I like your necklace.” He never did use the saji. It wasn’t a weapon or anything practical. All the thing did was heal. Her piece of jewelry, on the other hand, drew him like a mother’s embrace–warm and soothing, offering him the acceptance his real mother never had. He didn’t own anything that ebbed love as this necklace did. It would be…novel.

Her hand strayed to her neck and she traced the chain with her fingertip. “It belonged to my mother. My father gave it to her when they first met as a token of his love. It’s all I have left of them.”

“That explains a few things.” He held out a claw.

Staring at his hand, her eyes took on a faraway look as if she fought an internal battle. “Fine.” She undid the clasp and held it out. “It’s only a piece of jewelry.”

Before he hooked the necklace with his claw, a familiar tug yanked at his soul. He hissed and blinked. The gate shone before him with five goblins standing on the wrong side of it. Fuck a duck, he’d been transported from Sandra before he could get the necklace.

He roared. The sound shook the cave walls and made the pebbles on the floor jig. “This is not your lucky day, boys.” He stabbed the first goblin through the chest with the tip of his tail.

Damn it, he’d been so close to holding that necklace. He bit the head off a screeching goblin as it ran back toward the gate. If they had only waited another minute to cross, he would have had it. He deflected a sword strike with his claws, disarmed the creature and stabbed it with the weapon.

One would think the pile of bones and decaying bodies he left at the mouth of the gate on the Outremer side would be a cause for concern before crossing. But no, they kept trying. He stepped on the next one until it popped underfoot.

The last one made it back through the gate.

He huffed and shook the body from his tail. What a mess. He couldn’t hunt Sandra before she changed her mind like this. The stench of rotting goblin was hard to clean off the skin. He had learned that the hard way in his youth, trying to court the local fairy princess. Twisting around, he spotted Urgle watching from his chained post in the other room.

Stomping across the area toward his new pet, he shifted to his human form. He grabbed a leather collar from his worktable and waved a hand over it while speaking a few magic words. Goblins, as a whole, were stupid. Urgle probably wouldn’t realize magic didn’t work here. He exchanged the metal collar for the leather one and set the goblin free from the chain. “The spell I cast on this collar will make your head explode if you leave my lair or touch my treasure.”

The goblin nodded and fell to his knees. “And if I went through the gate?”

“Well, I’d be summoned, then
I’d
make your head explode. Do we have an understanding?”

“Yes, Master.”

“Toss those bodies through the gate immediately, then clean the place.” This display of bloody carnage would keep Urgle in line for a few days. While the goblin took care of the mess, he could shower a few times and then find Sandra.

Chapter 5

Sandra stared out at the ocean, a half-empty bottle of sake resting on her lap. The first few sips tasted like dirty sock water and burned her throat like battery acid, but after a few more swallows it went down easier. Her sore feet, resting on the balcony railing, hurt a whole lot less.

Twirling the necklace hanging from her throat around her finger, she tried to focus on the crash of the waves and not on the events of this afternoon. Metal bit into her flesh, cutting circulation in her finger, and she let the chain unwind once more.

Damn Ishi for vanishing. What should she do now? In the morning, she’d have to hike the volcano and sing another flipping song. This time he’d hear her hearty rendition of
Pop Goes the Weasel
. Maybe she’d throw in the hand movements with it. She giggled and took another gulp of liquid fire.

The last of the sun’s rays crested the horizon. She’d been on this island for twenty-four hours and done things she’d never considered trying. She’d taken a ride from a handsome stranger, met a dragon, then watched him vanish in thin air, and gotten drunk on sake. A nice adventure for a girl from Crab Apple, but she wasn’t here for fun. She’d almost refused his offer before she’d recalled the reality of Beth’s illness.

Someone knocked on her hotel door. She glanced over her shoulder and sighed. The soft chair, the cool ocean breeze and the sunset had her reluctant to leave her spot. “Go away,” she shouted at the housekeeping.

The pounding returned. “Sandra?”

She jolted from the chair at the familiar voice, the bottle slipping from her numb fingers and crashing onto the balcony floor. “Koishi?” She stared at the door, unable to move yet. Had Ishi sent him, or was he here to see her on his own volition? She couldn’t decide which would please her more.

“Do you plan on opening the door?”

Smoothing her hair and straightening her dress, she tiptoed around the broken bottle on wobbly legs to let him in. She swung the door open, her heart fluttering at the sight of him. “What are you doing here?” He wore a crisp, button-down white shirt and khaki pants with his black hair combed to perfection. He’d been handsome yesterday in his farming jeans and t-shirt. Tonight he was edible. Or was that the sake talking?