Lion Head Mesa the darkest side of me

who was he? why could she not remember? why could she not remember? panic was beginning its slow choke of reason and air. silvertongue concentrated on the red floor between her paws. she had scrubbed these places herself; she knew each bend of the wall and roughened portion of stone which resisted all polishing. she knew the anteroom into which she brought this man and his companion, but she did not know him. her mind cried and fell back into itself, stilling her breath as for a long moment she reached toward his eyes again with her own. brow furrowed, mouth slightly moue'd as she tried with great and painful effort to move beyond that curtain of verdant thorns. but it would not be. a headache seethed in her flesh with sudden teeth, sparking tears at its virulent pain; she made a hasty bow and fled them for senmut's place atop the mesa, grabbing great draughts of air as she went. but the chain clasping her memories remained unbroken, and the despair darkened silvertongue until she could feel no more for a time.