A shout of surprise awakes me, and my pillow shoves itself out of my hold. Toren scrambles back, wide-eyed, and a hand pressed to bloodied bandages in need of a change.

“Where- there was an accident. Casper! Mace? Here boy! Casper!” “Casper”  jolts awake, throwing punches before his eyes are completely open and blinking blearily in the early morning sunlight.

“Toren, it’s okay-” I reach for him, trying to soothe the fear and nerves the way I did before, but he smacks my hand away.

“Oh my god, my face, you son of an Ow!” Bash is holding his nose. The wolf is running nuts in circles, and Casper mimes frantic apologies.

“Everybody stop!” Toren shouts. Mace stops his howling. Bash pauses, one hand fisted in Casper’s shirt and the other holding a knife to his throat. Blood dribbles down from his nostrils. Casper lowers the pan he’d grabbed off one of our packs.

“Good.” He clears his throat. “Would you please explain who you are and how my companion and I came to be traveling with you?” He asks politely.

“Well, I’m the guy your pal here tried to jump-” Bash begins, and I wave for him to shut up and lower the knife while he’s at it.

“I’m Zara. This is Bash. We were on our way to Bond Clan when we found your vehicle. There was an accident. Do you remember that?” I ask.

Toren nods slowly.

“Good. So, we found you guys, and we got you out. We brought you both here; there wasn’t time for us to get to a healing center or someplace else,” I continued, shooting Bash a warning glare when he gave Caspian a little shake just because.

Toren frowned. The way his forehead scrunched was adorable. I try to brush my hair, which is probably a mess from sleeping on it, and wipe my face if I drooled while I slept. This wasn’t how I wanted it to go; my hands were filthy from crawling around, and my clothes were more mud than cloth, but it’ll have to do.

“As for who we are, um. Ah-...” I swallow and take the plunge. “I am Zara Rueben, daughter of Nataliya. Offspring of Koldof. Your Bond mate.” I stand and curtsy, following the customs of my ancestors, and try to keep my voice steady. “I bow as a stranger, rising with a new purpose, to walk by your side to the Clan of our forefathers so that they may know this intention between us. Will you recognize me?” There. I got it all out. Bash nods in approval, and Casper looks awed. Toren blinks once, twice.

“No.”

Whatever I was expecting, it wasn’t that. I smile, though it isn’t funny.

“Sorry… did I say it wrong?” I didn’t miss a line; I know I didn’t. But perhaps there’s a different greeting I should have used before the sacred question to honor his people.

“No, it was prettily said. But I’m not your- whatever you think I am.”

I’m not going to panic. False positives happen; it would make sense that he has doubts.

“I could be wrong,” I admit. “But I don’t think I am. My Gin Dori fits with yours, see?” I try to reach out and show him how the two pendants fit together, and again, he pulls away.

“No. I’m sorry, Miss, thank you for saving me, but I meant I’m not… um, that. But I believe you’re the one I’ve been searching for.”

My heart soars.

“Because we’re destined to,” I begin.

“Because you’re making me sick,” He cuts in.

Bash's eyebrows shoot up even while he presses a towel to his nose, and Caspian groans from where he’s still trying to blink off the last of his sleep.

“I... make you-I’m making you sick. I make you sick?” He nods earnestly and ducks when Casper throws a balled-up chunk of paper at him.

“You seem to be at the center of my symptoms,” He explains. “I recognize how ridiculous this may sound. But I’m aware that you Clan’s folk have outlandish customs or gifts, as you call them?” He touches his head, frowning when his fingers come back stained red.

 “I mean no slight against your people. But if this is a gift that you are doing, I would ask that you stop now. I want to return to my normal life, and your gift is getting in the way. I believe it’s having adverse effects on my health as well,” He finishes this up, nodding and lips moving slightly, his head quirks to the side as if he’s checking off some mental checklist. He’s thought about how this conversation was going to go.

“I don’t- I can’t... It doesn’t work like that,” My words won’t come; I can’t swallow past the lump formed in my throat.

“Then perhaps you know someone with a cure? I keep seeing you in my dreams, and I don’t know why. I’m sure it sounds ridiculous, but I'm telling the truth. I swear upon my honor as a man of the people of Apparatus,” He insists. “I’ve had chills, fatigue, mood swings-”

“I get the picture,” I whisper.

He continues to tick off on his fingers.

“Bodily aches, loss of consciousness, continuously seeing your face-”

“I said, I get it.” I can’t take much more of this.

He smiles politely, tolerantly. His teeth don’t show, and his eyes don’t follow the motion of his lips. My stomach heaves, and there’s a hoarse panting sound that I think might be coming from me.

“I need air,” I announce to no one in particular. My feet are moving, I back up so fast I tumble over and keep going, striding out from that god-awful cave and into the brush. I don’t stop moving until hands are on my forearms, and I’m pulled in tight against a hard chest. I’m making that rasping gurgle noise again. Am I breaking in half?

“Zara,” Bash tries to soothe me, but the pity and pain shine alongside tears in his eyes, and I yank away; I will not be cosseted.

“Okay, so it’s not him. It’s not him! It’s- maybe it’s his friend, maybe it’s Caspian. A false positive, those happen,” I insist, pacing. Bash shakes his head and tries to reach for me again.

“Zara, it’s not-” I shake him off, thoughts racing as I do my best to keep talking and fighting the panic.

 “I got it wrong. My Gin Dori was searching for someone close to him. I probably misspoke. Or it’s Caspian. Or it’s you, of course, it’s you!” I whirl on him, hands thrown up. “Why wouldn’t it be you? You were just too close all this time for me to see, you’re my Bond-”

“Zara,” He’s crying for me. Face screwed up in misery, hurting for my pain as he pulls me in by my wrist. “Zee… it’s him. You know it’s him.” His hand strokes my hair, arm wrapped around my waist for a long minute before I realize he’s all that’s holding me up.

“He- oh god. Oh god. He- oh god.”  It’s all I can say; it spills out of my insides and quakes in the still air of the day. My knees buckle, and he sinks to the ground with me.

“It’s okay. It’s going to be okay,” He whispers, rocking us. The same thing I promised Toren the night before.

“We’re supposed to be joined-” I sob. “I- I said the words, but he didn’t-”

“I’m here, Zee. I got you.” His tears soak into my hair.

“Everyone has a match; I’m supposed to have one!” It’s contained chaos; it is a singularity being destroyed. “What do I do? I don’t know what to do!” I choke out a sob and refuse to let it go further, clawing at Bash, but he won’t release me, won’t allow me to go through this awful, crushing thing alone.

“I know,” Bash mutters, rocking still. “I know.”