3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

The drakcol medium.

A human spirit stood in front of me with his mouth hanging open in a disconcerting way. He didn’t resemble my younger brother’s mate, Seth Harris, but he was definitely the same species.

His light brown hair hung to his narrow shoulders in soft curls, and his blue eyes with round pupils so different from mine stared at me. He was short. I didn’t realize humans came that short. Seth wasn’t as tall as most drakcol, but this human was even shorter than him with a thin frame. He was clad in odd clothes. His shirt depicted a human with their tongue hanging out and white hair sticking in every direction, and his blue trousers appeared rather stiff.

“Little Soul,” I said. “How did you get here?”

He didn’t reply, grinning and showing off his even, bright white teeth as well as his unscaled pink tongue.

How had he even gotten here? Tamkolvanloknol was a great distance from Earth, and Kalvoxrencol hadn’t landed on the planet when he retrieved his mate, answering the longing the Crystal had instilled in him. So where exactly had this human spirit come from? And how had he gotten here when most spirits didn’t wander far from their families or where they’d died?

“Do you understand me, Little Soul?” I asked. He probably didn’t speak my language. He might speak the same language as Seth Harris, but from my understanding, there were multiple languages on his planet, unlike my own, which had one. For Seth to speak to this spirit, I would have to explain my inner fire, though Kalvoxrencol might have already done so.

It was my duty to help this soul find peace. I would have to take him to Seth, but I should probably contact him first. He and Kalvoxrencol hadn’t been mated long, and they might be engaged in an activity I had no desire to witness. I suppressed a shudder. Watching my little brother fuck his mate wasn’t something I wished to see.

“Will you follow me, Little Soul?” I asked, even though he didn’t understand me. “You will have to because Seth is the only one who can speak to you.”

“My name is Caleb Smith,” the human said in passable Drakconese. His voice was higher pitched than any drakcol; it fit his slight frame perfectly.

“You understand me?”

His head bobbed. Seth did that too, and I didn’t know what it meant, though I doubted it was him acknowledging my dominance or position. Caleb continued, “I learned. I was on the space station for a while, and then I was on the Admiral Ven.”

I crossed my arms, tail flicking. “How did you get to the space station?”

He grinned, eyes twinkling, and it created the oddest swooping sensation in my stomach. He said, “I was on Earth when I followed purple aliens capturing spiders.”

“Illegal traffickers,” I said. A rather sizable illegal market for spiders existed, but vveki worshiped a goddess whose aspect was similar to that of an Earthen spider, and they considered all of them her sacred children. There was a ban on buying or selling Earthen spiders, as well as a few other planets’ spiders, within Coalition space.

Caleb lifted and lowered his shoulders before a torrent of words fell from his mouth. Some were Drakconese, others were human speech. I understood, though, he was on a ship with spiders that had been altered to be significantly larger, from his swinging arms. Said spiders killed the scientists. Eventually, he boarded a passing shuttle.

“Then you came to our space station?”

He waved a hand. “No. I wandered for cycles. Can’t even tell you how many. I’ve been everywhere.”

“And you are here now.”

“Yep,” Caleb said, smiling at me. “I went on the Admiral Ven to go home, but they didn’t land, so I stuck around for Seth.”

“You know him?”

“No, but he’s human.”

I didn’t know what to say to the wandering soul. He seemed perfectly content as he studied everything. I would’ve assumed he was alive if not for the slight blur around him as well as an innate sense my inner fire gave me that told me he was a ghost.

“What’s your name?” Caleb asked. “I told you mine. It’s only fair of you to share. Not that you have to be fair. I mean, I’m dead, but you’re the first person I’ve had to talk to in cycles. So a name would be nice. I can make one up for you, if you’d like. That might be fun, though your name is probably nice. Is it nice? Do you like it? What does it mean?”

My lips quirked at the rambling. “Zoltilvoxfyn. I’m the fourth prince of the Drakcol Empire. My name means precious gift of the Crystal, and yes, I like it well enough, and yes, it is perfectly nice.”

“You’re Kalvoxrencol’s older brother,” he said.

“I’m three cycles older.”

“Brothers are awesome. Not just brothers. Siblings are nice. I like siblings. It’s fun to see how blood plays out in people’s appearances, you know? My brothers look nothing like me, but one of my cousins is practically identical to me, even though she’s a girl. Weird, right? How can you see me?”

This soul talked. A lot. “My inner fire.”

“What? What does that mean? Are you special? You seem special.”

“My inner fire. Each drakcol has one, but type and strength is determined by family lineage. Mine allows me to see the spirits of those who have died. Kalvoxrencol has the gift of light. My other brother Dontilvynsan can read minds. Serlotminden can create fire. Hallonnixmin is persuasive.”

“That’s sweet,” he said. “I’m jealous. I would love to move things like I had the force.”

What did sweetness have to do with anything and what was this “force?” While he spoke my language, Caleb said things that didn’t make sense. “Why are you here on this plane, Little Soul?”

His shoulders lifted and lowered again. “Just am. Never left.”

Souls always had some idea of why they lingered: loved ones, unfinished business, revenge, or any number of reasons. I’d never met or read about a spirit who didn’t know why they were here. Then again, I’d never met a spirit who’d wandered this far.

“None?” I questioned.

“I stuck around. Why wouldn’t I? There’s too much to see.” Caleb skipped toward my greenhouse. His blue eyes with their strange, round pupils swept the windows. “This place is…” He broke off into human speech.

“I cannot tell from your tone if that is good or bad.”

He beamed at me, which caused the same swooping to occur in my gut. “Good. All good.”

Caleb slid straight through the glass, and I frowned. I didn’t allow anyone in my greenhouse, barring my brothers on rare occasions. It was my sanctuary. A place to be alone with my thoughts when I needed it, though sometimes that wasn’t a good thing. My mind was often my worst enemy.

I followed him inside. The humid air clung to my scales, and the hot temperature pressed against me. Flowers of all kinds, mainly my rarest plants and hybrids, greeted me. Light floral scents mixed with fresh dirt and fertilizer. Caleb raced around, a bounce in each step, as he studied my hard work.

Caleb was like no other soul I’d met. He exuded life. He wasn’t perturbed about the fact he was dead; though from his words, it had been some time now. Also, spirits did not travel the stars.

Apparently, the normal rules didn’t apply to Caleb.

Helping him find peace was my responsibility. I’d never met another medium. It was a rare inner fire—one of the rarest. But there were logs from the previous ones in history, and in them, mediums were mandated to bring restless souls to peace. I hadn’t assisted many spirits in crossing over, since most left without aid, but I would have to help this one. How though?

I had no idea, but it was my duty.