Page 1 of Dark Destiny: The Turning Of The Loom

1

KHIANN

"Behold your chariot, Prince Khiann." Julian entered the ward, driving a wheeled chair that looked like an ugly chariot that could seat only one person. "Don't worry," he said. "The other four are upstairs. I'll get all of them here one at a time, but first, I want to show you how it works."

"Please do not call me prince," Khiann said, hoping the translation earpieces the doctor was wearing worked well. The old tongue and the new one had very little in common, and he had learned it was easy to say something offensive without meaning to. "I am not a prince of anything."

"That is not true, my love." Annani rose to her feet and examined the wheeled chair Julian parked next to Khiann's bed. "You are my prince."

At the far end, Adaluh made a sound that communicated his impatience to get a wheeled chariot of his own without having to actually ask for it, and the other three echoed the sentiment. Raffy, Leo, and Michael were the names the staff had chosen for them until they either remembered their own names or chose something else.

They were all eager to get mobile after spending weeks on their backs.

"Let me help you down." Julian wrapped his arm around Khiann's midsection and held on while Khiann swung the emaciated sticks that were his legs over the side of the bed.

At least he was now wearing pants and socks, a major upgrade that had happened less than a week ago. All five of them were now using the bathroom, aided by the staff and using a walker, of course, but it meant no more tubes and excrement bags. That alone was priceless, and so was eating food instead of receiving nutrients through a tube.

Khiann did not mind that the shuffle to the bathroom exhausted him and that he had to recuperate for hours afterward. The little bit of regained dignity and independence was worth it.

Julian practically lifted him off the bed and carried him to the chair, with Khiann's feet barely touching the floor. He was grateful the healer was making an effort to preserve his dignity by making it look as if Khiann had stood on his own two feet and pivoted into the seat.

By the time the maneuver was complete, Khiann was breathing hard, as though he had run a race. Throughout it all, he could feel Annani's eyes on him, but he did not look at her. He did not want to see pity or worry in those beautiful eyes.

He had his limits.

"Put your hand on this stick and push it in the direction you want to go," Julian demonstrated. "Small, gentle moves. You don't want it to go too fast."

Khiann wrapped his hand around the stick, and as he pushed forward, the chair lurched and clipped the foot of the bed hard enough to send a crack up his spine.

"Gently," Julian said.

"You did not warn me this chariot was tethered to a wild kunga," Khiann said.

Adaluh laughed, and it sounded rusty, but it was music to Khiann's ears. It was the first laugh he had heard from any of the four. "The kunga is inside, and it's really tiny," Adaluh said.

He was joking, of course. Since the translating earpieces had arrived, the five of them had been constantly learning new things about the world they had woken up to, and Adaluh knew about motors and electricity. Not that any of them remembered the world they had left behind, but the vocabulary they commanded was a good indicator of what had been available during their days.

They had no name for a chair with wheels powered by an engine. A chariot was the closest term, and chariots were vehicles pulled by kungas.

Khiann eased the stick, pushing it gently, and this time the chair crept forward obediently. He drove it in a slow arc around the row of beds, and the four males who had followed him into the earth followed him with their eyes.

He did not remember leading them. He did not remember them at all. But he knew he was responsible for them. Annani had told him they had been his guards, assigned to him by her father, which meant they belonged to her rather than to him. But after five thousand years of shared slumber, their fate had become entangled with his, and it seemed only fair that he assume responsibility for them.

Now they were watching him drive around the ward in a mechanical contraption that was difficult to steer, and it was up to him to prove that the motorized chair was the door to freedom they all hoped it would be.

He turned the chair around more smoothly this time and allowed himself the satisfaction of mastering the vehicle.

Not too long ago, he could barely hold a coherent thought. They would all dissolve almost as soon as he formed them, like words written in the sand and scattered by the wind. He had lived in fragments of dreams and stories, confused and frustrated with each new waking, and the worst of it was that he could not ask questions. He had been completely reliant on Annani and the stories she chose to tell him, and he had been grateful for every one of them.

He had been under for a very long time, not knowing which way was up, and the sound of her voice had brought him to the surface.

"You are doing beautifully," Annani said.

He smiled at her. "You are too kind to me. How am I supposed to improve if all I hear from you is praise?"

She gave him a sideways look. "I believe in the power of positive reinforcement. It worked with all my children, who grew into exceptional adults."

Khiann stifled a grimace. He was not her child, and he did not want to be treated as one, but even Annani's youngest daughter was much older than he was.