by 1
She smiled. “I should be awake before this time tomorrow. My clock is still a little off.”
“Shall we go to the dining hall? You look like you can use some protein.” He smiled and she held her breath as her heart did a little flip.
Yesterday, he was an attractive male. This morning, he was devastating. The blue of his robes made his eyes sparkle.
She shoved her flickering attraction aside and inclined her head. “Please. I would enjoy seeing more of the facility during daylight.”
“We will have a more thorough tour after you eat.” He grinned and offered her his arm. “We will also meet with the assessment officer. She will assist in your placement.”
They left her quarters and merged with the slowly thickening stream of folk in the Citadel robes.
Zeyan whispered. “What do you mean by placement?”
“Each member of the Citadel goes through a regimen of meditation and duties to the facility. Your grasp of your talent will determine your placement.”
Orenn didn’t seem to notice that everyone they passed reached out to touch her, but she felt each tug at her soul as they sought her out.
Nine hundred eighty-six souls were within a five-kilometre radius. Three were near death but most were healthy and happy.
She smiled as yet another person brushed up against her. “I know what I am.”
Chapter Three
Orenn sat next to her in the assessment officer’s comfortable rooms. Iyanna sat with her hands in her lap, her burgundy robes flowing around her and over the arms of the chair. Her ivory hair was in stark contrast to her onyx skin, but her gold eyes were kind.
“Zeyan Rev…”
Zeyan raised her hand. “Stop. I have been disallowed use of my family name. I will be Zeyan from here on out.”
Iyanna nodded. “Understood, Zeyan. May I ask what the nature of your talent is?”
Zeyan shrugged. “By the myths of my people, I am a soul keeper.”
“Can you explain the nature of your gift?” Iyanna was making notes on a data pad.
“I suppose it is a gift, but on my world, it is forbidden to have an active talent.” She sipped the tea that the assessment officer had served.
“When did you first know about your talent?”
She dragged in a deep breath. “My grandfather died when I was eleven. I was with family at his bedside. When they all went to make arrangements for burial, I crept back into his rooms and knelt at his bedside. With everything in me, I wanted to see him again, to speak with him again and he came to me. He stood at the bedside and he put his hand on my head, telling me that it was his time and he would love me no matter what, but that I couldn’t tell anyone. I could never tell anyone that I called him.”
“Was that the only time?”
“No. I could always call the dead even a few days after death. I can speak to them before they move on and I can hold them again, tell them that it isn’t too late to send messages to their loved ones and I can hold them inside me until they are ready to go.”
Orenn sat up straight and stared at her. “What?”
“I can hold the souls within me until they are ready to go. Accident victims, victims of violence, they all have a hard time moving on. I hold them in my mind until they get their bearings and then let them go.”
Iyanna seemed fascinated. “What is the most you have held at one time?”
“Five souls. A family who died in a fire.” She closed her eyes at the memory. They had been friends and in her fifteenth year, she had taken them from the accident site and kept them safe until they had adapted to the idea of death. She had let them go after their funerals and held a small ceremony in the darkness, releasing floating lanterns to mark their spiritual freedom.
Arching her brows, Iyanna made a note in the file she was working on. “That is amazing. I have never met a talent who could separate souls from a body.”
Zeyan leaned back and ran her hands through her hair. “That isn’t what I do. I collect souls that are loose and lost and keep them safe until their energy is willing to move on. In a few cases, I can give the souls visible form to speak with.”
“Ah. Would you be willing to demonstrate it?”
“Sure. There are three dying folk in the surrounding area. They should come to me as soon as they pass.”
Orenn’s eyes widened. “You can feel the dying?”
She sighed and explained, “I can feel everyone. Nine hundred and eighty-six souls in the area. Only three are dying and they are very old.”
The two members of the Citadel looked at each other and a silent communication flowed from Orenn to Iyanna.
“I can also see you doing that.”
Orenn blinked. “What?”
“Psychic communication, emotional transfer, every time a mind or soul leaves its body to touch another. It leaves a visible trail that I can see.” She drummed her nails on the edge of the couch she sat on. “It is also very rude.”
Iyanna blushed. “You are quite correct. Orenn was surprised at your ability to see and count the minds of those around you.”
“It is more difficult in a city, so I have kept my residence to the countryside as much as I was able to.” Zeyan shrugged.
Orenn nodded as if that made perfect sense. “Why does everyone touch you?”
She chuckled. “I didn’t think you noticed. It isn’t everyone who touches me, only the talented. As far as I have been able to tell, the normal members of a population find me unsettling.”
Orenn raised a brow. “And the talented?”
“They draw strength from me. Somehow, my aura settles the talent.”
Iyanna leaned forward. “Well, that explains my urge to get close to you. Does it ever get inappropriate?”
“Not yet. Most keep the touch to my arms, back, spontaneous hugs and the like.”
“Do you know why?” Iyanna was intent.
“I suspect it has some connection to my seeing talent communications and psychic energy. Your souls literally spread beyond your bodies to use your talents, so contact with me seals you more firmly into your physical forms for a moment. This is a comforting sensation for most from what I have been able to observe.”
Iyanna raised her hand and extended it. “May I?”
Grinning, Zeyan met her halfway, lightly touching her forearm. The velvety look of her skin was confirmed by the contact and when Iyanna’s eyes closed momentarily, Zeyan released her. It took Iyanna a few seconds to return the favour and when she did, there was a relaxed grin on her lips.
“That felt…nice. I don’t know another word for it.” Iyanna touched her own hand and rubbed her palms together.
Orenn asked his friend, “Is Vesa available? She might be able to provide some insight as to what is going on in Zeyan’s aura.”
Iyanna reached over and pressed a few numbers on a com pad. When the other side of the line picked up, she smiled, “Vesa, can you come to my office?”
“Sure. What do you need?”
“An observation.”
“I will be there right away.” The com went quiet.
A knock on the door made Zeyan jump, but Orenn grinned, “Vesa’s office is across the hall.”
The woman was small, silvery with black hair and huge black eyes. Zeyan wasn’t up on all the races, but there was something familiar about the physical form.
She came forward in the same burgundy robes that Iyanna wore. “What am I to observe?”
“Our newest member, Zeyan, has a certain effect on the equilibrium of talents. I think it might be something that you can see.” Iyanna straightened.
“Ready when you are.”
Iyanna reached out and took Zeyan’s hand again.
Vesa let out a low whistle. “Zeyan, are you doing that deliberately?”
“No, it is a simple reflex.”
“Does it draw power from you at all?”
“No. Folks can touch me all day. It doesn’t hurt. No change in my energy level at all.”
Iyanna reluctantly released her hand and nodded to Orenn.
Zeyan was less cool when she met Orenn’s gaze. His touch on her upper arm sent a tingle through her that had Zeyan staring at Vesa defiantly. The aura reader kept an almost straight face, but there was a gleam of knowledge in her eyes.
When Orenn released her arm, she relaxed into the couch and asked Vesa, “What did you see?”
“Your energy literally wraps and hugs those who touch you. It is no wonder that they are comforted by you, you compress their energies gently and leave them feeling whole.” Vesa smiled, edging closer.
Zeyan picked up on the hint. “Yes, Vesa, you can touch me, too.”
Without any warning, all three of the Citadel members made contact with her, with Vesa watching her intently.
She felt the contact but nothing else. Vesa blinked her huge black eyes and withdrew her grip. Iyanna followed suit, but Orenn was the last one to remove his touch.
Vesa took a seat in the room and fanned herself. “Well, that was fascinating. I have never felt so cared for as when you touched me. I knew I was safe in the depths of my soul. Is that how it was for you two?”
Orenn nodded. “It was like I was surrounded by comfort, like nothing harmful could touch me.”
Iyanna agreed. “It was the same for me.”
Zeyan poured herself another cup of tea. “And yet, when I am next to normal folk, whatever I radiate acts like repellent.”
Iyanna smiled, “I think we can offer you several positions. How do you feel about travelling?”
“I would like to get over my space sickness first. Is there anything else?”
Iyanna tapped her finger on the file. “I think I have the right place for you. You will have to go through your initial orientation classes, but based on the side effect of your talent, I believe you would best be served with a singular tutor. We will offer the position to our instructors and a suitable candidate will be drawn from the applicants. Is that acceptable?”
“What would I be doing in my duties?”
“Teaching a class on the migration of souls. Many of the species we deal with are vague on the concept and you are precisely the person to speak about it.”
“The migration or just souls in general? Or how about the extension of the soul that allows talents to function beyond the constraints of the body?” Ideas were flowing in Zeyan’s mind. She had craved the opportunity to inform those who would never know what effect the soul had on talents.
“You can speak on whatever subject you like. Now, you can complete the tours of the facilities and spend a few hours in the meditation garden. Let Orenn know if any of those close to death come to you.”
“Don’t you want to know where they are so you can send healers?”
“If they haven’t sent healers to them by now, they are dying of natural causes.” Vesa was practical.
“I would request that you make sure of that. If someone gets me a map, I can pinpoint the fading lives.”
Orenn was curious. “The souls will come to you after death?”
“Only if they don’t proceed immediately. Some say that the souls dissipate, but some souls choose to stay or are too shocked at their situation to move on. If these folk are ready for death, I won’t see them unless I call them.”
Orenn raised his brows again. “You can summon the dead?”
She laughed. “How else could I keep them safe?”
As the first steps of a schedule came into being, Zeyan relaxed at being surrounded by her own kind. For the first time in her life, she didn’t have to stay on her guard and she had the possibility of living a productive life.
The Citadel had distinct possibilities.
Chapter Four
Two months later…
A wave of dizziness swept over her, but Zeyan refocused and addressed her students. “So, when you utilize your talent, especially those of you with psychic connections, you extend the energy of your persona or your soul into the surrounding area. This is why the mind-body connection has to be cultivated and strengthened as much as possible.”
She swayed and leaned against her desk, the fatigue that was her constant companion struck her hard.
“Instructor Zeyan? Are you all right?” One of her students rushed toward her but stopped when she raised her palm.
“I will be fine. I am dismissing class today, but I want all of you to study instances in your species’ history where souls or minds were separated from bodies. It is important to know the dangers so that you can ensure your own safety.” Zeyan swayed again.
“I insist that you submit to an exam.”
Zeyan scowled at her eager student. The fanatic intensity of a healer was in his eyes. “I will submit to a standard mechanical exam. You are not qualified to make contact with me. Ask Quedar for details.”
She reached for her cup of tea and slugged down a bolt before straightening and heading for the door. Her robes were purple, the colour of a teaching student.
Her route to medical blurred in her vision, but she made it after waving off a dozen offers of help. “Doctor Tinneer, I seem to be having that problem again.”
“Wonderful, I just got a new scope in from Morganti. This is the perfect time to test it out. Hop on up here, Zeyan.”
The physician patted the table and Zeyan lunged for it, catching it on the second swipe of her flailing arms. She hauled herself onto the table and flopped back into a prone position.
Within her first week at the Citadel, the medical staff had stopped trying to touch her. Quedar’s tale of contact had spread throughout the healers and after two tried to heal minor cuts Zeyan had earned during a stint in the kitchen, no others touched her.
The light of the scanner was soothing. It ran over her body from head to toe and back again. Doctor Tinneer helped her sit up the moment that the light shut off. Zeyan noted the thick gloves that the healer was wearing. “Did those come from Morganti as well?”
Tinneer laughed. “Yes. We filed a request just for you.” He made sure that she was stable and went to read the details of the report. He cursed softly under his breath and switched the display.
Zeyan sat as the Citadel doctor called in psychic specialists from all over the facility. She waited patiently, swinging her legs as they poured over her test results. After an hour, she coughed, “How long do I have?”
Tinneer came to face her. “You are dying and we don’t know why.”
A Wyoran healer raised her hand. “I don’t know about your species, but this effect resembles a catastrophic Wyoran-link failure. Your body keeps reaching for a mind or spirit that isn’t there and it is dying as it wastes all of its energy in the search.”
Zeyan groaned as the idea sank in.
Tinneer rushed toward her, “Is that it? Does your species form psychic links?”
She chuckled. “Not in the way you think. How many of my species have been recorded as leaving Heschell?”
She waited while they brought up the records.
Tinneer rubbed at his eyes and the other healers exchanged looks. “None. None of your kind have ever left the surface of your world for more than a week.”
Quedar stepped forward and cleared her throat. “I felt a gaping loss before Zeyan was able to close me out. A draining that almost knocked me unconscious in under a minute.”
Zeyan kept her legs swinging in a slow rhythm. “So, without my world to bond to, my body is searching for an anchor and not finding it. It is exhausting me with the search. Until death.”
Tinneer growled. “We are not going to let that happen.”
Zeyan frowned, “I don’t see how that is possible. My life is linked to my world and if I return to my world, there is a death sentence waiting for me.”
Quedar nodded grimly. “Then we are going to have to find an anchor to take the place of your world.”
“What?”
Zeyan spent the rest of the night in medical playing dice with the on-duty physician. The rest of the hea
ler team was interviewing the handful of psychics strong enough to act as an anchor for her.
“How can you be so cheerful?” Desli asked as he tossed the dice.
“What do you mean?”
“You are facing a rapid deterioration of your existence and yet, you are playing games.”
“Ah.” She chuckled and took her turn, clapping and recording her score. “Well, to understand this, you have to know that my entire life has been a death sentence. From the moment we enter school, we are taught that the genetic tampering of our ancestors was an abomination. Any deviation from the norm in the culture of Heschell is considered horrendous enough to warrant destruction on sight.”
“There are no talents or gifted on your world?”
“None that admit their talent if they want to live. I outed myself when I tried to help my cousin with her grief. In that moment, I surrendered my right to life by the standards of my people.”
“That’s horrible. Why did you do it?”
“Because I saw someone in need. She said she wanted a moment with her mother and that I could provide. I was also tired of hiding. So very tired.”
The healer smiled. That was something he could understand. “You were chafing?”
Zeyan chuckled. Chafing was a common Citadel term for the urge to use a dangerous talent. “Yes, I was chafing and so I opened myself to judgement. The offer of the Sector Guard came as a complete surprise. It was nice, don’t get me wrong, but it wasn’t expected.”
“So, you exposed your talent in public and knew that you would die and then you didn’t.”
She laughed and took her turn. “You are making it sound like the slowest suicide in history. I didn’t want to die. I just didn’t want to hide what I was anymore. It was exhausting and it wore on my emotions.”
“What will you do if they can’t find an anchor for you?”
She shrugged. “I will continue as long as I can and then slowly join the souls that I speak to. Death holds no fear for me.”
A cleared throat behind her made her twist in place. “Doctor Tinneer, no takers?”