Annie Nicholas: Koishi

In Outremer, when a human wanted to speak with a dragon, they made a sacrifice. He gazed out the window. “Uh, you’ll have to hike up halfway to the top of the volcano.” What next? Make her chant some silly spell or–or bring a present?

“I have to go on foot?”

He shook his head. “There’s a road you can drive part way.” He flipped the picture of the dragon she had drawn, and he sketched a map. “At the end, there is a trail. Follow it until you reach a large, flat stone. Sit there and–and sing until he finds you.”

“Sing?”

“Well, how else will he know you’re there? Doesn’t have to be a fancy song.”

“I’m a terrible singer. Couldn’t I just ring a bell or something?”

“You’re summoning a dragon, not a bellhop.” He shoved the paper into her hand and guided her from the house. Maybe a gong, but never a bell. “Wear something pretty.” He smirked at his brilliant idea. May as well enjoy himself fully.

“Hike up a mountain in something pretty?”

“I didn’t say it would be easy. I tried to warn you away. If you go through with it, that’s up to you.”

She sighed. “Anything else?”

“Bring him a present.”

She stomped her foot, but didn’t say anything else and left.

Koishi watched Sandra storm back to town from his doorway. He took pleasure in the way her ass swayed in her tight jeans. Where was he going to find a large, flat rock? He’d better set some of his sheep free on the pastures quickly, then start searching.

A present for a dragon, indeed. Sandra picked her way along the stone and dirt path leading up the volcano. Look pretty? She tried to kick a rock in her sling-back heels and missed.

But she’d done it. Anything to get her hands on the saji. Whatever it was. She had the name of the item; however, no one knew what it looked like. For all she knew it was a syringe full of magic fairy dust.

She had listened to Koishi, against her best judgment, and wore a blue dress she’d purchased in town. Heck, she’d even had her hair done. If this turned into a joke, she’d find his tight Asian ass and–and give it a good hard pinch.

He had the oddest sense of humor. Even when he was telling her about this meeting stone, he’d seemed on the edge of laughing. She’d probably end up on YouTube sitting on the stone, singing her little heart out. Sighing, she rubbed her arms. She came from the flat part of the Midwest. It hadn’t occurred to her it would get cooler at higher altitude.

The wind tore at the sketchpad tucked under her arm. She’d spent the afternoon shopping for a present, but either couldn’t afford what she’d found or thought the trinkets were too cheap. This was her sister’s life she was bargaining for, so what she brought had to be worth something special. Dragons hoarded treasure, according to her friend. What would another piece of gold be to someone who probably owned mounds of it?

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.