“Are Kian and his bodyguards going to be there?” Turner adjusted the headrest of the passenger seat in Bridget’s new car. It was one of the specially outfitted ones Kian had ordered for the village residents, equipped with autonomous driving and windows that turned opaque at a certain distance from home base.

Overkill, and that was saying something coming from the king of paranoia himself. Turner’s safety measures were a necessity, but they didn’t rely on technology, which could always be hacked.

A different solution was needed, but at the moment Turner was drawing a blank, probably because he was not looking forward to the testing.

His paranormal abilities were nonexistent, and he was going to do poorly, which he hated, especially in front of witnesses. Hopefully, Kian had changed his mind about attending. It would be bad enough to fail in front of Bridget and Kian’s sister. Turner didn’t want to do so in front of the big man himself.

“They are going to meet us at the lab.” Bridget eased out of her new parking spot at his building.

Acclimatizing to the new place had taken a few days. Even though he’d lived in the apartment for years, it looked and felt totally different. Everything was as new to him as it was to Bridget.

Not that the place had ever felt like home to him before.

Walls and windows and furniture created a dwelling, people created a home. Without Bridget, the most luxurious villa would have been just a house, while with her a cave would’ve felt like home.

After a lifetime of living alone, he couldn’t conceive of returning to it.

Hell, he was even going to miss the bunch of busybodies hanging out in the keep’s café.

At the end of a long day, he’d come to enjoy sitting and listening to their prattle and their gossip, laughing at a few jokes.

It had been easier to be around them than he’d expected.

Most of the immortals he’d met were upbeat people, which had surprised him at first. Living for as long as they did and watching history unfold, they should have been disillusioned, jaded, and bitter. In his mind, he’d equated them to old warriors who’d taken part in endless battles, witnessing the senseless loss of life and the futility of it all.

Perhaps the difference was that immortals weren’t weighed down by disease. They didn’t suffer from various aches and pains either, except for those caused by fatigue or exertion.

More importantly, most of them hadn’t experienced the loss of a loved one.

The only source of pain in their lives was fear of their enemies, but those had been quiet lately.

Turner wondered what they were up to. With no spies at the Doomers’ base, the clan was flying blind. Something needed to be done about it. He would have to talk to Kian.

“What are you thinking so hard about?” Bridget asked.

“This and that. I let my mind roam aimlessly.”

“Aimlessly? I doubt it.”

Sharing his thoughts with Bridget was another thing Turner was struggling to get used to. He liked talking to her, but not everything that popped into his mind was worth mentioning. He didn’t like voicing thoughts and ideas he hadn’t fully formulated yet.

The thing was, Bridget would keep pushing until he opened his mouth and spat out his random stream of consciousness. She loved hearing him talk while he thought things through, saying that she found the process fascinating.

“I was thinking about the immortals I’ve met at the café, and that I was surprised most of them were so normal and positive. I’d expected jaded attitudes and superiority complexes.”

Bridget laughed. “Both are true. Immortals are superior to humans, it’s an indisputable fact. They are stronger, have better senses, and can manipulate human minds. But on average, they are not smarter, or more moral, or any of the things that make a real difference. This is pounded into our heads since we are old enough to understand, but I can’t say everyone accepts and internalizes the lessons. Many clan members feel entitled, and some feel jaded. Each person is a unique individual.”

“Still, for really old people they are very young at heart. Sometimes they act almost juvenile, like Anandur and his jokes and his banter. I would’ve never believed the guy’s been around for a thousand years. Not that I have a problem with that. I’d rather spend time with Anandur than his dead serious brother. But I can’t help thinking that the positive attitude is the result of good health and no worries of it ever deteriorating.”

Bridget cast him a sad look. “Everyone sees the world through the lenses of their own experience. To you, the guarantee of health seems like a tremendous boon, but immortals take it for granted. I guess people don’t appreciate what they have until they experience its loss.”

There was truth to that, no doubt about it, but he still needed an explanation for the puzzle. If the immortals took their health and longevity for granted, then something else must’ve been responsible for their upbeat outlook on life.

Unless it was all an act.

“Do you think immortals pretend playfulness to counteract the tedium of their long existence? Could it be an act?”

Bridget shook her head. “You and your mysteries. Can’t you let it go as that’s just the way it is?”

“No. I have to understand.”

“Maybe it has to do with a sense of purpose. I’ve been thinking a lot about it since my speech. I think it is an essential component of a meaningful life. The purpose doesn't have to be grandiose, for most humans feeding their families and raising their children is purpose enough. For us, though, there has to be more. Most clan members don’t have children, and basic things like food, shelter, and safety are not a concern.”

As Bridget helped Turner figure out the last missing piece of the puzzle, he leaned back and crossed his arms over his chest. “The founder of your clan is brilliant.”

“I know. But what prompted you to say that in this context?”

“As you’ve wisely said, your people need more than survival to motivate them and give them a sense of purpose. The goddess has been providing it since the very beginning. I wonder if that was her intention from the start, to give her people a goal to strive for, or was she really concerned about the future of humanity and wanted to provide it with a roadmap to achieving it.”

“It’s absolutely about humanity,” Bridget said. “As the last survivor of her people, Annani feels she is the custodian of their knowledge, and that it is her duty to continue their work. She’d decided on this course of action long before she had children, so filling their lives with purpose was not a concern. I think she had children because she knew she couldn’t do it alone. Not the other way around.”

“Perhaps she needed a sense of purpose for herself? Something to keep her going even though everyone she loved and cared about was gone?”