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I hide behind my shield just in time.

As I skid back in the dirt from the force of the blow, Izan goesflying.

The force of his own swing sends him soaring through the air over the heads of other fighting warriors. He knocks another pair over. Agony absorbs the blow, powering her next swing.

Echo is as strong as ever, unaffected by the magic in our opponent’s hammer, because it didn’t actually come into contact with her, just the invisible shield she projects.

It’s beyond satisfying to watch Izan struggle to regain his footing, but eventually, he picks himself back up, shoves anotherfighter out of the way, grabs his war hammer, and zeroes in on me once again.

His first strike appears to have only enraged him. He charges again.

I extend my left hammer, hiding behind it, waiting for the next bone-crunching blow. Might as well let the brute tire himself out before I advance with swings of my own.

Instead, Izan flips the handle forward, testing it against my invisible shield. He taps the shaft against it lightly, moving outward.

Trying to find the edge.

I shove forward, pushing the handle aside with Echo. I swing my own hammer at the opening presented to me.

But Izan spins away with more agility than I would have thought possible of a man his size. I’m so stunned, in fact, that he gets the best of me. The shaft of his hammer finds the edge of my shield, and he flings it out of my hands, sending Echo skittering out of the way. Before I can react, he shoves a shoulder into me, sprawls me flat on my back on the dirt.

And then he raises his hammer high, preparing to crush me into the earth.

“Ziva!” A horrified scream comes from somewhere out of sight. I think, distantly, that the voice belongs to Kellyn, but I have no time to respond to it.

I roll as fast as I can, out of the reach of that hammer. It sinks deep into the earth where my head was just a second ago. I feel thethumpof it, somehow still painful on the back of my head. The reaction of the earth to the blow. Clods of dirt fly upward, rain down on me, pelting my face with exploded bits.

Undaunted by his miss, Izan raises his hammer again, a maniacal grin on his face. He swings again.

I keep rolling, slightly slowed by the unfamiliar armor I wear, trying to stay out of reach of that hammer. Agony feels insignificant in comparison. I pull my own hammer tight to my body as I move, keeping a fierce grip. I don’t have time to raise it, to send up a strike of my own.

All I can do is move and move. I’m getting dizzy.

Izan grunts something low that sounds like “Hold still.”

As if.

I keep rolling, realizing how foolish I was, thinking to take him on. So what if I made the weapon he carries? It’s capable of killing me just as much as anyone else. I’m not invincible. I’m not even that talented of a fighter. I just got so angry. But that fury seems to have fled as I now fight for my life.

I roll once more, my body smashing into a hard surface.

A boulder—impeding me from moving any farther.

I look up in horror at the next swing. He knows he has me now. He raises his hammer higher; it disappears from view behind his head.

I don’t have time to think. I act.

My boot swings up, catching him in the crotch.

He chokes, drops his hammer behind him, his hands going to the wounded area.

With a scream, I rise up onto my knees and send my hammer smashing into whatever part of him I can reach.

I hear a thundering crack. A sound I cannot describe comes out of the brute, and he staggers to the side.

I think I hit his pelvis.

But I don’t stop to examine. I swing again.