“Here,” Temra says, “let me show you some stretches to help with the pain. You’ll have to be ready to ride again tomorrow morning.”

Petrik groans at the thought, but he still indulges her, bending as Temra does and blushing when her rump is tight in her pants at the next stretch. He looks away.

I smile softly at the two of them.

And then, as though all the events of the day are finally registering, a wave of exhaustion comes over me.

I need a moment.

I brush branches out of my way as I find a path through the trees. The ground is covered in leaves and mulch. My boots sink a good inch into the ground with every step. My arms ache from how they were roughly handled, and my knees go weak as I finally get out of view of everyone else.

Behind my closed eyelids, I can see Kymora’s soldiers surrounding us. Every horrifying moment is repeated over and over again in my mind. The sword lunging for Petrik. Temra being carried away. The destruction caused by Secret Eater.

And then the attack comes.

Not an outward one, but one from within.

My breath speeds until the shrill sounds are all that fill my ears. I brace my hands against the bark of the nearest tree as I feel my mind falling. It plummets to a dark and empty place, devoid of hope. There is no ladder or rope to climb back out. There is no end in sight. No light to guide my way.

I am nothing but fear and panic.

On and on time speeds or maybe it stills, stops completely, leaving me behind while the rest of the world goes on.

“There you are!” a voice says from somewhere nearby, the tone furious. I spin toward it, horrified Kellyn is catching me in the midst of an attack. “We need to talk. I cannot believe you’ve forced me into—Bladesmith?”

I make a shooing motion with my hands while I try to breathe. Kellyn ignores the gesture completely, stepping up behind me. His hands curl around my arms gently, but firmly. His deep voice rumbles, “I’ve got you. You’re safe.”

I don’t try to get away, but neither do I lean into the touch. I’m shocked into stillness by the contact.

“Ziva, it’s okay.”

Kellyn stands there, waiting out the attack with me. I’m mortified that he’s witnessing this, but I can’t do anything to make the panic subside.

I’m falling.

When will it end?

Please end.

Breathe.

When it finally alleviates, I don’t move from my position. I can’t.

Because if I do, if I pull away, he’ll see the tears now streaming down my face. Being caught like this, by him, is bad enough as it is.

Maybe if I just start talking, it won’t be so weird that I’m letting him hold me.

“You never call me by my name. It’s always ‘bladesmith.’”

“I didn’t want to get too attached.”