It was scary not to know much about my fate, my purpose. I had once considered not knowing my major in college a crisis, but that was a joke compared to the life I lived now.
The rising sun began to push back the chill of morning. I finished my routine and opened my eyes.
I was facing the small camp, which Batu had packed up. The horses were saddled and waiting. He sat on a boulder nearby, watching me and chewing on a chunk of meat. While still hurting, my lower body was definitely moving better off after the yoga.
"What is this you do?" he asked again. Unlike his uncle, he didn't accuse me of a magic spell.
"It's called yoga," I said and swiped my tunic from the ground. "It helps me focus my mind and helps my hurt body."
"It is a dance?"
"Not really. It's … kind of how like you sing. It's an interpretation of nature."
"It is quite beautiful to see."
Of all the potential comments I'd expect, this was not one of them. I looked up to see if he was teasing. He didn't seem to be. His dark eyes were on me, and all traces of his wounds from the day before were gone. Warmth rose to my cheeks, and I was momentarily quiet, unable to figure out why butterflies leapt to life in my blood from the knowledge he had watched me - and found it beautiful.
"Thank you," I said at last. "Everyone does it where I am from."
"Your people dance from place to place and mine ride." The corner of his mouth pulled up in a half smile.
I rolled my eyes at him.
He stood and motioned to my horse. "Are you prepared?"
"Ugh, no. My legs and ass hurt."
He laughed.
I got the feeling sometimes women - or maybe people of this time in general? - didn't talk the way I did around him. I climbed onto my horse reluctantly. My butt was tender, and I settled into the hard saddle with a hiss.
"How does your magic heal me but not you?" he asked as he mounted.
Rub it in, jerk. "I don't know," I said through clenched teeth. "I'm not supposed to be able to heal anyone."
"Then how can you?"
Because some madman dropped me into a coma that lasted nearly a century. There was no way to explain it that wouldn't sound stupid aloud, even to my ears. But I sought some response.
Batu led us to the northeast once more. He slowed until I drew abreast of him and handed me a chunk of dried meat and a bladder of milk. I ate and sipped, putting together the least crazy story I could about why I could heal.