She ran down the stairs. “I’m late.”
With nothing else to do, I followed her. Where was she going, and why was she giving me white rabbit vibes? I had no idea, but I chased her, intrigued, as I thought over and over again,I’m late. I’m late.
The woman was over six feet, sporting a broad frame and thick muscles. Her green eyes stayed focused ahead of her as she dashed down the street. She wore plain black pants and a tunic that had a patch on her shoulder. I couldn’t read Drakconese, despite my best efforts, though I assumed it was maybe her name or a company logo.
It was oddly human, seeing a patch denoting what business I assumed she worked for. I’d seen other species that did something similar because why would humans alone have something like that? Still, the patch, for whatever reason, felt so human, like Tamkolvanloknol wasn’t so different from Earth.
A shadow crossed over the street, and I instinctively ducked. A drakcol flew over us, leaving a sinister shadow on the ground. Okay, so maybe it was somewhat different here.
My shoulders hunched as I chased her. Whenever a drakcol flew above me, I flinched, unable to shed that prey feeling. Oneof them could swoop out of the sky and pick me up like they were a hawk and I was a squirrel. Not that any drakcol had a reason to, or that they could, you know, see or touch me.
The drakcol woman I was stalking darted between buildings and broke through the tight alley to a wide port in the middle of a ring of buildings, surrounded by huge trees with blue-black trunks and vibrant red leaves.
Shuttles lifted and lowered at regular intervals while people dashed on and off. She boarded a shuttle that might as well have been a gray box, and I followed her. I hesitated at the ramp as the drakcol woman continued inside. What if she went too far away, and I couldn’t get back to Zoltilvoxfyn? What if he was lost to me?
I forged forward. It would be fine. I’d wandered the universe. I didn’t need him. So what if he saw me? It didn’t truly matter unless I had the urge to talk to Seth again or I got bored of no one talking back to me, so I should be good for another twenty-three years, right?
Chapter 8
Another ghost.
People were crammed into the shuttle, most were drakcol but not all. My friend, I guessed I would call her, sat in the back, her foot tapping on the smooth metal floor.
“What’s wrong?” I asked her, taking in her pinched expression and tense muscles. Her tail slashed the air, smacking the person next to her who growled in warning. She quickly apologized. “I wish you could hear me. Whatever’s wrong will be okay.”
I mean, I didn’t know that, but I hoped for her sake it would be.
When the shuttle landed, it jarred everyone besides me inside. The woman leaped to her feet and pushed her way through thecrowd, sending off rounds of growls that she ignored. I trailed her, sliding through people, leaving a wake of shivers in my path.
She rushed down the street, and I paused in my step for a moment. This part of the capital, if we were still in the capital, wasn’t as nice, not that it wasn’t beautiful or was rundown by any means. The buildings were shorter, though they still had spires and plenty of windows framed with balconies. Plants were still plentiful, but they weren’t as prominently displayed, and many drakcol wore uniforms versus street clothes.
My friend ran down the street, feet pounding with every step. She stopped in front of a wide building with numerous windows and terraces that wrapped around each level. The glass doors slid open, seamless with the windows beside it, and she dashed inside.
One look was enough for me to realize what kind of business this was. Injured people sat on metal stools while harried people ran long instruments over them and asked questions. The walls and floor were sterile gray without a trace of plants anywhere.
It was a medical facility.
The woman headed down a hallway without any bland artwork or even boring scenery pictures to liven it up, then started up a staircase. Like the apartment building, it had a wide square space for drakcol to fly up, but she ignored it. On the third floor, she stopped in front of a door and palmed the panel next to it, making a bell chime.
The door slid open, and an older drakcol with jagged pink scales sat next to a desk crowded with tablets. His hair was steel-gray and cropped close to his head, and he wore the dullest, most boring, gray uniform. It was like a onesie made of scrub material that had a high collar and no sleeves, showing his thin arms. He gave her a small smile, revealing his toothless gums. That, plus his jagged scales, told me this dude was old. Like dirt old.
“Tinlorray,” he rasped, waving her in. His claws were so long they were curling back toward his skeletal fingers. “Enter. I thought you weren’t going to make it.”
“Sorry I’m late, Dr. Maklownil.” She tilted her head to the side, offering her throat, which he ignored.
“Let me see them,” he said, gesturing to the stool in the cramped office.
Tinlorray spread her gray wings that each had a single talon midway down the bony ridge on top. The reason why she walked instead of flying became immediately apparent. An angry red stretched over the delicate membrane, and her right wing was oddly crumpled, the bone broken. The doctor tutted as he examined the massive wings that nearly spread from wall to wall, knocking some screens off the desk, which he ignored.
He ran a long wand with a wide flat tip about the diameter of a baseball over one wing, then the next. Dr. Maklownil grunted at whatever the readings were on his tablet, bony fingers clacking on the glass. “Your left wing should heal normally with some scarring. The right…” he trailed off.
“It won’t recover, will it?”
“Not without reconstructive surgery,” he said.
“Which is something you can’t do here.”
“No, this facility is not equipped with the necessary surgical suites. We can send an appeal to the Seeker Council for a medical facility in the capital to do the surgery, but they are busy. It will take time, though you will have the surgery eventually. This is a delicate procedure and will require an expert. I would be honored to help you file the necessary paperwork, of course.
