42. Annani
ANNANI
The family had come and gone, and the ward was quiet again.
Allegra had marched up to the bed and asked why Grandpa had no hair, but when Syssi had tried to explain that it was because Grandpa had been in a deep sleep for a very long time, Allegra had gotten upset and started crying.
She was afraid that her hair would fall out if she slept for too long, and she liked sleeping.
Thanks to the translating earpieces, Khiann had understood the exchange, so it had not troubled him, and he had given the girl his crooked half-smile that undid Annani every time.
Seeing that Grandpa was not upset about his hair loss seemed to calm Allegra, and she had stopped crying and patted his hand.
"It will grow back, Grandpa," she had told him. "Mommy says so, and Mommy knows the future."
Khiann had kept smiling, probably thinking that the child was speaking like children often did, repeating some nonsense that their parents had told them.
Then again, Annani had told him about Syssi's gift of foresight while he had slept, so perhaps he retained the knowledge somewhere in his subconscious mind.
The visit had exhausted Khiann, and he slept now, his beautiful eyes closed and his newly regrown eyelashes fanning over his cheeks.
She would never forget that first moment when his eyes had opened after five thousand years of stasis and the vivid blue she had carried with her through all those years was exactly as she had remembered it.
Once his eyes had focused, he had looked at her with wonder, with warmth even, and she had held her breath, waiting, hoping for the recognition, the widening of the eyes, the softening, and for everything lost to come flooding back.
It had not.
He had looked at her with curiosity, even appreciation, which was expected when beholding the visage of a beautiful goddess, but with no history at all.
She had told him who she was, who he was, and who she was to him, hoping the words would restart his memory.
"My name is Annani, daughter of Ahn and Nai.
I have been telling you stories while you slept.
I hope you heard at least some of them, but if you did not, I will tell them again.
Your name is Khiann, and you are the son of Yaeni and Navohn.
I am your truelove mate, and I have been waiting for you for five thousand years. "
The words had meant nothing to him that day when he had first awoken, and if they meant anything now, it was because she had been sitting by his side and telling him stories about their life together for days on end.
It was enough.
The Fates had given her back his body and his mind, whole and unbroken, exactly as she had asked, and they had honored the bargain and taken only what she had offered them.
Khiann would live, he would grow strong, and he would take his place in the new world he had awakened to, but it would not be the homecoming she had dreamt about.
He would never know her as he had when their love had first bloomed. It would be a new beginning, a new knowing, and she would make sure that it would be just as glorious as the first one.
As the monitor changed its rhythm, she rose to her feet and kissed his forehead.
"There you are, my love," she said as his blue eyes opened and beheld her.
They smiled first, and then his mouth followed, the corners lifting almost symmetrically.
She took his hand, and when he squeezed her fingers, there was more strength in them than there had been earlier in the day, and since nothing physical could explain the change, she interpreted it as determination.
His gaze reinforced her impression. There was steadiness in it, a purpose, as though he had climbed out of sleep carrying something he meant to give her.
"Annani," he said, and his jaw kept working, trying to make another sound.
Annani knew the movement. She had watched it a hundred times, the throat straining, the mouth shaping air that never became sound, and it always ended the same way, in frustration and exhaustion.
Her first instinct was to soothe him, to tell him not to strain, that the words would eventually come and that there was no need to become frustrated because they were not coming fast enough, but his hand tightened on hers again, and she understood he was telling her to wait.
"Yes, my love. I am here, and I am not going anywhere. Take all the time you need."
His lips parted. A breath came first, shaped like a word with no sound, the same breath she had watched him fail to voice time and again, and his brow drew down, his whole face twisting with the effort.
Then he lifted his free hand, the arm trembling only slightly under its own weight, and laid it over his heart.
"Annani," his voice was rough. "Sa-mu."
She stopped breathing.
My heart. He had called her his heart.
"Annani, sa-mu," he repeated, tapping his chest to emphasize.
Only two new words in his returning vocabulary, each a single syllable, yet they conveyed everything he wanted her to know. Sa-mu, my heart.
He might not remember her, but he was choosing her again.
The Fates had taken his memories of her, but they had not been able to touch the bond, which had never been severed because it had never been a memory. It was part of who Khiann was, who she was, and it lived in a place the bargain could not reach.
Her glow flared, and she did not try to smother it. It filled the ward and washed his face in soft light.
His eyelids were already growing heavy, and he fought to keep them from drooping. He had spent nearly everything he had on those two tiny yet enormous words, and the cost was dragging him back down toward sleep.
She lifted his hand from his chest and pressed it over her own heart, so he could feel it beating, fast, strong, and entirely his.
"Sa-zu," she said.
Your heart.
COMING UP NEXT
The Children of the Gods Book 112
Dark Destiny: The Turning Of The Loom