The longer I stared at his body, the more uncomfortable I grew until I was fidgeting on the stool like a kid in church. I was in the same room, basically, with a corpse, which shouldn’t bother a ghost, but it did. Sure, he breathed and all that jazz, but everything that was Yolkeltod wasn’t here anymore. So he was a corpse. A zombie. Though he didn’t hunger for brains.
Oh my god, what if he did wake up and crave brains? Zombie apocalypse on an alien planet. Visions of hordes of lumbering drakcol who grunted for brains pranced around my mind.
Thankfully, the door opened and distracted me from my random thoughts. Dr. Maklownil strode in followed by another person. The doctor's jagged pink scales appeared even rougher next to the other drakcol. She stood straight, her fern green scales shiny with youth, and her deep brown hair was neatly braided down her back.
Her claws clicked on a tablet as she asked, “Has his sister or guardian approved yet?”
“No, their guardian has deferred to Tinlorray in this matter,” Dr. Maklownil replied as he moved closer to Yolkeltod’s bed. Hepeered at the monitors before focusing on the blank black box, then frowned. “She hopes he’ll come back. He’s a warrior soul.”
“Soul type doesn’t matter in this situation,” she said, voice laced with kindness.
“I’ve explained that to her multiple times, but the anomalous readings stoked her hope again, not that she needed much assistance.”
“How much longer can we cater to her protectiveness? He will not awaken, and yet I understand her need to keep him like this.”
Dr. Maklownil lifted his palms.
“I will talk to her,” she said, tapping on the screen. “The hospital can offer her a…” She broke off into a word I didn’t understand. I repeated it over and over again, not knowing what it was, but from context, I assumed someone to help Tinlorray. “Perhaps that will help.” The woman tucked the screen under her arm. “It doesn’t seem right to keep him like this.”
“It’s not,” the doctor said.
The new woman was probably hospital administration checking on the situation. Yolkeltod must be a long-term patient. They chatted for a few more minutes before departing.
Bouncing, I stared out the window and watched the potted ferns wiggling in the wind. There was nothing to do. All the other beds were full of drakcol, but none of them had visitors, nor did they talk. I turned back to Yolkeltod and patted his arm without knowing why I did it, my fingers slid through it like they did everything else.
Man, I missed touching people. Hugging or snuggling. It was the simple things in life. Interacting with the world and being a part of it. I truly wasn’t here. I had one foot in this existence and one foot in the other.
Which was why I needed to leave.
Fyn had been right when he said this plane was for the living, not the dead—not me. How to leave was as much of a mystery today as it was last week. What my tether might be was anyone's guess. Still, I would have to try to find and break it.
A twinge pulled in my chest.
What was that? Pain? That was new. Faint. Barely more than a needle prick.
My Sunshine’s smile popped into my thoughts. He was finding his smile—maybe it hadn’t been lost in the first place? Even with Seth, he’d been relaxing. They would be okay without me. They had each other, Kal, and their other brothers.
Another twinge stung my chest. Gone as quick as it came.
Zoltilvoxfyn, I thought. This crush had refused to dim; instead, it grew steadily under his shining light. Hugging myself, I tried to force away the thought. I couldn’t stay here because I liked him. Fyn had told me to pass on; that was his whole purpose.
Still, I didn’t want to leave him.
I lifted my hand to the light, pretending to feel it, and I froze. I could see through my fingers. I’d never been able to do that, except when I extended myself too far and vanished. My skin always looked like it had when I was alive, but right now I was blurry to the point I saw the green of the ferns on the balcony. I shook my hand, like that would help, and watched until I solidified once more.
Tucking it against my stomach, I locked any and all worry away. It was all fine.
The sky had started to darken by the time Tinlorray arrived. She was even more worn out than the last time I’d seen her. Her tail was lifeless on the ground, her hair limp, and her scales dull. She trudged across the room and flopped onto the stool, not giving me enough time to leap out of the way. I passed through her, making her shiver.
“You need to let him go,” I told her when she grabbed Yolkeltod’s much larger hand. She didn’t hear me, but I couldn’t help telling her. “He’s gone, and he’s never going to come back.”
Tinlorray brushed his reddish-brown hair behind a tapered ear, then tugged the blanket up over his broad chest. She smoothed the blanket over him as she said, “Yolkeltod, you need to wake up.”
The uncomfortable curl returned with a vengeance. This was a private moment, but here I was watching it like a voyeur. Ihadpromised Yolkeltod, but there was nothing I could actually do.
With a slight grimace, I sat on the edge of his bed. “He’s gone, Tinlorray, but you’re all he cared about. You were his tether.”
She didn’t respond; instead, she kept straightening and tucking the blanket around his still frame.
