“I might be brain-dead, but I know about him. He and Prince Kalvoxrencol have been the main news for months, and the prince left over a cycle ago to travel to Earth,” he remarked, tail lazily moving. When it neared me, the tuft of hair at the end of his tail disappeared into my knee. I didn’t react, because I doubted he meant to do it.
Yet again, his gaze gravitated toward the door where his body was, and I didn’t blame him. He swallowed, his throat bobbing in his long neck.
“You can tell me anything.” I’d heard or said it all before.
“I’m scared.”
“Of?”
“Leaving Tinlorray. Death doesn’t bother me, but she’ll be alone if I go. We don’t have parents or other family members. All we have is each other.”
“I will do whatever I can to reunite you with your body. There has to be a way.”
“I don’t believe that, but thank you.” He started toward the door as if he was pulled by a string, and I followed him stiffly. The edges of his soul were starting to blur while color leached out of him, turning him transparent. I recognized what was happening. I’d seen other ghosts pass on, and Yolkeltod was about to leave.
“Give me time to talk to Zoltilvoxfyn,” I pleaded, following him.
Tinlorray sat next to his body, holding his hand in hers.
“Don’t go.” I didn’t want to be the only one here.
He looked back at me, the light from the window growing as he blurred, becoming even fainter. “I’m glad I met you, Caleb Smith. I think all I needed was to admit I was afraid. Maybe that’s all you need to do as well.”
“I’m not afraid,” I replied honestly. “What about Tinlorray?”
“Watch out for her, please.”
“I can’t.”
“Please,” Yolkeltod said, growing brighter and brighter. He smiled, radiating happiness. “I think you’re special, Caleb Smith, and what she needs.”
“I’m not.”
“Promise me you will take care of her.”
The words spilled from my lips. “I promise.”
He grinned, and from one breath to the next, he was gone.
Chapter 10
Well, maybe it’s time for me to go.
I sat on the ground next to Yolkeltod’s bed, leaning against the wall with my arms resting on my bent knees. My gaze never wavered from Tinlorray, and she never looked away from her little brother. He was gone. Everything that made YolkeltodYolkeltodwas no longer here.
It hadn’t taken much for his soul to pass on. It was like that for most ghosts; well, every ghost I’d met except me. I didn’t understand how they all moved on when I couldn’t.
Right after I died, I’d tried to pass on to whatever, if anything, follows this existence, but I couldn’t. I didn’t have any urge to move on. Why that was, I had no idea. Every ghost I’d talked tohad known what held them back. Yolkeltod had stayed because of his sister. When he finally let her go, he’d left.
What was I holding on to? I needed to answer that question if I ever hoped to leave this place.
As the sun sank in the horizon and the three moons started to rise, Tinlorray stood, her movements jerky. I followed her out of the hospital and down the street to a building resembling the apartments in the capital, though shorter and it had purple flowering trees growing on the flat roof. Like every other building I’d seen on this planet, it had plenty of windows and balconies.
She entered through the door on the ground, went up the stairs, then stepped into an apartment with two bedrooms, spacious living and dining areas, and a generous balcony covered in plants. Tinlorray must not live in the building I’d followed her from. Perhaps she worked in the other building?
Tinlorray promptly collapsed onto the couch and began to sob. I settled beside her. I wondered if she knew he was gone. If the grief was finally becoming real now that Yolkeltod wasn’t beside her? Maybe after she let it all out she would be able to release his body.
“I’m sorry,” I told her. “I will watch over you, like I promised, but I don’t know what good it will do.”
