Page 88 of Dark Destiny: The Turning Of The Loom

In the evenings, they watched the history films together, two episodes most nights, and by the second he was usually asleep, either against her shoulder or with his head hanging at odd angles.

She had been surprised by how much of the history was new to her.

Annani had lived through all of it, but she could not have been everywhere at once. She had not visited Athens, or Rome, or the court of a Chinese emperor, and in those days, news had traveled slowly. By the time it reached the Northern Lands, where she had spent most of those years, it had been told and retold so many times that it was more legend than record.

The dramatized documentaries showed her things she had heard of and some she had not, and they were as fascinating to her as they were to Khiann. He asked questions, and she answered them as best she could without letting him know that what he was watching was a sanitized version, made for human consumption. It had been created for people learning at their own pace in their own homes. It showed the marble, and not the slaves who quarried it. It showed the conquest and not the thousands who had died. It glossed over the suffering or reduced it to a sentence and a somber chord of music, and moved on.

There was no reason to depress him with tales of all the evils of this world before he had learned about its goodness and beauty.

If he asked, she would tell him the truth, and she suspected that one day soon he would, because he was smart and would realize that he was watching a whitewashed version of world events.

"Last circuit," Gertrude said.

Khiann came around the corner of the patio, the crutch swinging and his free arm loose at his side, and he was not winded.

Not the way she had expected.

His chest rose and fell a little faster, and there was a slight sheen on his forehead, but he was not gasping, and when he reached the lounger, he did not collapse onto it. He sat on the edge next to her and set the crutch aside.

"That was very good," Gertrude said. "Better than I expected for the first day. Next week I might switch you to a cane."

"What is the difference?" he asked.

"A cane is more dignified. Some even hide swords inside it." She winked.

Khiann's curiosity was piqued. "Is there any chance you can get one of those for me? I would love to have a weapon."

She laughed. "You are in the most secure location on Earth, and no one here will harm you or the Clan Mother. Besides, the bad people of this era use deadlier weapons than swords. When you are well enough, you can ask to train with the Guardians and learn all about modern warfare."

"That should be interesting. According to Annani, I was not a warrior, but perhaps I will be one in this part of my life."

"You can be whatever you wish to be," Annani said. "Perhaps you would like to be a poet or a musician. Toven became a storyteller."

Gertrude smiled. "I need to go. It was an excellent session. Do you need me tomorrow, or are you good on your own?"

Khiann thought about that for a moment. "I have been training on my own all week, and I am sure you have better things to do than hover over me."

She nodded. "As you wish. If you change your mind, call me."

"I will."

"Goodbye." She inclined her head, stepped into the house, and closed the sliding door behind her.

"Ogidu, don't forget the walker," they heard her say.

"It shall be delivered this afternoon, Mistress."

"Thank you."

A moment later, the patio door opened again, and Ogidu came out with a pitcher of lemonade and two glasses, setting them on the low table. "Would you like something to snack on, Clan Mother?"

She looked at Khiann, who seemed perpetually hungry.

"I would like something to eat," he said.

Ogidu dipped his head. "Right away, master."

He withdrew, and they were alone.