Koshi by Annie Nicholas Page A

down to their mines, and melting his delicate gold and shiny silver for their own crafts.
    Currents of lava increased in flow into the gateroom as his vision narrowed on the dwarves. He’d erupt the fucking volcano before they laid one pudgy finger on his stuff.
    Sending his power deep into the Earth, he called to the liquid stone. He’d flood his treasure room if they got past his defenses. The mountain groaned, unbalancing one dwarf to pinwheel his arms and then topple over onto the ground.
    Ishi impaled him through his stomach with the tip of his tail.
    The other two stopped mid-swing and met each other’s gaze, then raced for escape, leaping toward the gate.
    With a twist of his torso, he blocked their way using his tail once more, skewered dwarf still on it and all. Blood dripped from their dead companion.
    “Ishi?” A soft voice called out behind him.
    He spun around, ankle deep in dwarven menace.
    Sandra peeked around the doorway, a vulnerable target.
    His heart bronco-ed as he placed himself between her and the intruders. “Get out of here!” he shouted at her. Pain lanced into his shoulder. The sharp burn arched down his arm. He glanced back at an axe embedded above his wing. The little snot just missed, either by bad aim or his dumb luck.
    The volcano rumbled again since he was still connected to the core, except now he remembered something more precious than gold stood not far from him. Destroying his den would kill Sandra.
    He roared in the face of his enemies. Spit flew from his lips, landing on the horned helm of the nearest dwarf. Drawing upon his power, he focused his call on the lava. A headache blurred his vision with the effort. Spilling the liquid stone across the room from the stream, he encased the closest of the living intruders in molten heat. Their magical armor would survive, but not their exposed flesh. The dwarf screamed and flung himself through the gate.
    Ishi sucked in a deep breath and blinked his vision back into focus. Had he given himself an aneurysm?
    The scent of roasted dwarf filled the air. Maybe Urgle was hungry?
    Something would have to be done about the dwarven colony usurping the goblin hoards. He didn’t care for either race, but the goblins were stupid and easier to manage.
    Breathing heavy, Sandra clung to the rock wall. She stared with wide eyes at the cooling glob by the gate. “You fight like this all the time?”
    Shrugging, he stepped forward and blocked her view. “This was a small skirmish.” He tilted his head as he watched the color drain from her face. “I’m a gatekeeper. It’s my job.” He stood in a shallow pool of lava, his scales designed for this hot liquid. “Careful.” A small drop would sizzle right through her delicate body.
    He had almost sent the flood of lava into his treasure room where he had left her. Fool. He could have killed her.
    An aftershock shook the room. Stumbling forward, she wheeled her arms, trying to maintain her precarious balance.
    Time slowed as his searing heart froze. As if having a mind of its own, his tail snaked out to catch her, but it dragged with the weight of an impaled dead dwarf still stuck on the barbed end.
    The lava wasn’t deep; however, it would sizzle the flesh off her bones.
    She let out a high-pitched shriek and tumbled forward.
    His lungs seized as he stretched forward, doing a belly flop, to have her land on his face, his mouth, anything else but the lava.
    He heard nothing and opened his eyes, surprised to find they were closed.
    Sandra hovered over the liquid fire. A thick green arm was wrapped around her waist.
    Ishi’s gaze met Urgle’s.
    The goblin set her back on her feet, far from the ledge. “I do good?”
    The dragon nodded, still sprawled across the receding lava pool. “You did great!”
    The goblin grinned. “Okay.”
    “Give me time to think of a good reward for you.” He rose to his feet and brushed off his dignity. He was a dragon, not some lounging hound dog.
    “Okay.” His pet