“Interesting.” He started toward the door of the greenhouse. “If you don’t mind, I would like to eat while we talk about this.”
That sounded suspiciously like a date, which oddly made me feel rather light, like I could fly. Ooo, flying. That would be cool. I’d tried again and again to fly, but I couldn’t unlearn gravity’s control on me. It was too constant, and my soul refused to let go. The most I’d been able to accomplish was floating, and only for a little bit. Not even close to actual flying.
“Sure,” I said. “I don’t mind.”A date with a hot drakcol, I sang in my mind, though I couldn’t stop humming.
We left the terrace and went to a different part of the palace I hadn’t seen. His suite was on the other side of the palace from Seth and Kalvoxrencol’s.
Two arched windows were across from the door, overlooking the garden; the balcony off them was covered with even more plants. The living room had a divan on a thick rug that spread over the floor. Plants filled every available space, including light green and blue vines covering the ceiling. To the right was a wide open space with a cylindrical dummy that I assumed was for fighting. A half wall separated the living room from a space with a low table and woven mats. Much like Kalvoxrencol and Seth’s rooms, two doors were off the dining area.
To the right of the front entrance was another door that probably led to his bedroom. I peeked at Zoltilvoxfyn, then back at his room, fighting the urge to explore. Sunshine would see me, though, and I might make him uncomfortable if I looked at all of his stuff.
Since I died, I’d become extremely nosy and lost most, if not all, of my manners. No one ever saw me, so peeking inside people’s medicine cabinets wasn't rude. Well, it was, and Nana would’ve scolded me something fierce, but no one knew. So no harm done. Besides, it was interesting to learn what different aliens kept in their private spaces.
Zoltilvoxfyn changed that. His presence stopped my normal snooping and subsequent commentary about whatever I’d found.
He went to the dining area and thumbed through the choices on the dispenser before coming my way with a plate covered in fruit, bread, and meat (a normal drakcol meal as far as I’d witnessed). He sat on the couch, crossing his legs and resting his plate on them.
“You can sit next to me if my eating doesn’t bother you,” he offered.
I plunked down next to him. “So what do I do? How do I move on? What’s wrong with me? Do you think something’s wrong with me? What if I can’t move on? Will I be stuck here forever?Oh my god, what if I’m cursed? Do you even believe in curses? Does curses even mean the same thing in Drakconese?”
“Well,” he said, taking a bite of a purple fruit and showing off his gleaming canines, seemingly unbothered by my chatter, “we need to ascertain what your tether to the mortal plane is.”
We. He’d said we. I liked that. A lot.We.I stifled a giggle. I sat criss-cross-applesauce and scooted as close as possible before my knees brushed him and ruined the illusion that I was alive and this wasn’t a date. I would’ve never had a chance with him if I was alive. And, let’s be honest, this wasn’t a date, but I had to get my kicks from somewhere. Zoltilvoxfyn didn’t need to know.
No harm, no foul.
“How are we going to figure that out? Do you have like a…” I stalled, unable to think of a Drakconese word for “ray” or “sensor,” so I settled with, “prodding technology?”
“No. There is no technology that will aid us in this. I will read through all of the previous medium documentation, and you will tell me about your life and afterlife in the hopes we can figure out what it is.”
My knees bounced. “I can do that. Talking is myjam.”
His forehead furrowed at the last word. I’d said in English because I didn’t know the equivalent in Drakconese. Zoltilvoxfyn ignored it and said, “Tell me about your family.”
“What’s to say? They moved on already.”
He took a bite of flatbread. “That’s not talking, Caleb.”
So I proceeded to talk. My family was ordinary. My parents had been office workers, I was the youngest of four kids. I’d had plenty of cousins and aunts and uncles. Nana, my dad’s mom, had been a huge part of my life. I’d spent every summer with her in Bakersfield.
Sunshine listened, tail smoothly sliding back and forth. Occasionally, he would pose a question, then fall silent again. His head cocked to the side as he listened. My gaze landed onthe studs in his tapered ears and down to the long earrings in his lobes. The golden chains twinkled in the light as rough-cut emeralds brushed his neck. My fingers twitched, longing to touch them, to trail them down to his long neck.
Unbidden, my eyes flicked to his chest. Maybe he had other things pierced. I swallowed. I was unlikely to find out, unfortunately.
“Caleb?”
I started. “What?” I asked thickly.
“You stopped talking.”
He’d distracted me. The piercing in his septum distracted me too. I had a random urge to flick the golden ring with my tongue, which was new. Jewelry had never been a turn-on for me, but Zoltilvoxfyn wore it well.
“Caleb,” he said again, his head dipping to catch my eye. “Are you well?”
No. I was pretty sure I wasn’t. I was pretty damn sure I was developing a crush on Zoltilvoxfyn. Whether it was because he was hot or because he was nice or because he saw me didn’t matter. It would never work out. I was dead.
“Why do you wear so much jewelry?” I asked.
