Chapter 11
What’s my tether?
Zoltilvoxfyn worked around his greenhouse, dragging with each step. He’d agreed to help me, and shockingly, he hadn’t lorded over me the fact I’d changed my mind so quickly. He must be nicer than I’d thought. I mean, I didn’t know him. Maybe he was a saint, who knew? I would, soon, of course, because I didn’t plan to leave his side all that much, barring stalking Seth and Tinlorray—not stalking, guarding, protecting. Whatever.
I skipped after him, whistling. Every pressure that weighed me down yesterday had vanished as soon as I talked to Zoltilvoxfyn. He’d banished my guilt with a few simple words. He was like a beam of sunshine breaking up my cloudy day. I felt nothing, but I swore warmth came off Zoltilvoxfyn, and I wanted to bask in it.
When he almost dropped a potted succulent that, I kid you not, was neon orange with green polka dots, I asked, “Are you alright?”
“I didn’t sleep last night.”
“Why?”
His tail slashed behind him. “I was worried you wouldn’t come back, and if you did, you don’t know where my quarters are.”
“I’m not helpless,” I commented. Besides, what did he think would happen to me? A monster that ate souls would swoop out of the sky or something? Like really, what could happen? “I would’ve waited for you here or wandered around the palace.”
“I don’t think you’re helpless. I was simply available if you needed me.”
“Thanks.” An urge to hug him swept through me. God, I missed touching people. I was starved for it. I would give almost anything to curl up against his broad chest.
He cleared his throat and went back to work, but his tail kept twitching incessantly while his wings rustled on his back. What did they look like? I imagined his wings were no different than any of the other drakcol’s I’d seen, but I wanted to seehis.
“I’m going to have to give you an endearment,” I announced. Drakcol didn’t have nicknames the way we did. They didn’t shorten their names, because they had some kind of class structure attached to them, which no one had explained. But they did give fun endearments, like Kal’s brothers calling him “Pest.”
“Why?”
“Your name is too long.”
“I am a prince.”
Like I’d said, class structure. “So I can’t give you one?”
Zoltilvoxfyn peered over his shoulder. “What name?”
My lips pursed as I thought it over. His name left a lot of choices for nicknames, the most obvious ones: Zol or Fyn. ButI didn’t want to shorten his name like a human, but rather call him something another drakcol might.
Suddenly, I bounced up to him. “Sunshine”
“Excuse me?”
“I'm going to call you Sunshine.” He was my light now.
He stared at me with his impossibly green eyes, and I held his gaze. Eventually, he replied, “Fine.”
“Sunshine,” I said. The Drakconese word was three syllables and hard to pronounce, but if I said it in English, he wouldn’t understand me.
He muttered, “At least it’s longer than what Seth calls Kalvoxrencol.”
“So how do I move on to the Great Beyond or whatever you call it?”
“I do not know.”
“Seriously? Aren’t you my guide to whatever comes next?”
“I haven’t met many spirits, and they all knew why they were still here. You have no idea?”
“Nope. None. Absolutely blank. I’m floating around, basking in the cluelessness of my existence.”
