by Troy Denning
When Luke found no sign of the Jade Shadow, he turned to his Pydyrian guide. “I hope you’re not trying to be clever, Sanar. If the Shadow went down at sea—”
“Not at all.” Sanar pointed at the ankle-deep carpet of ground-vines in which they were standing. “Your ship is here, beneath us.”
Luke dropped his gaze, immersing himself in the White Current in case he was seeing another Fallanassi illusion, and found only the same four-pointed ground-vine leaves that he had seen earlier. “Beneath us?”
“In a cave.” Sanar stepped to the cliff’s brink, then leaned out and pointed back under them. “Down there.”
Using the Force to anchor himself in place, Luke stretched over the edge and looked down the sheer face. A hundred meters below, half hidden by a swarm of shrieking, sharp-winged seabirds, he glimpsed the dark shadow of a cavern’s mouth.
“I see.” Luke turned back to Sanar, then asked, “How do we get down there?”
The Pydyrian narrowed his small mouth in what was probably an expression of surprise. “You’re a Jedi, aren’t you?”
“I am,” Luke agreed, “but Jedi don’t fly.”
“No?” Sanar looked more surprised than ever. “Then I have no idea. Perhaps we should go back and rent an airspeeder.”
Luke shook his head. “No time for that. I’ll just do it the hard way.”
He withdrew a palm-sized cable launcher from his equipment belt and sent a stream of liquid wire shooting toward the rocks below. As soon as the line was long enough to reach the cave, he cut the flow and depressed the TEMPER button, sending a small electrical charge down its length. The wire solidified instantly, becoming a metal cable strong enough to carry several hundred kilograms. To secure the top end, he took a thumb-sized ground bolt from a belt pouch, threaded the cable through an eyeclamp, then affixed it to a blaster adaptor and fired the whole assembly into the ground.
A soft THWUNG let him know that the anchoring splines had deployed. Luke fed the line through a trio of braking hooks on his belt, then backed to the edge of the cliff and began to sit out over the empty air.
Sanar’s thin brows arched in concern. “Master Skywalker, will you be needing me any longer?” He let out a wet-sounding cough—the first Luke had heard from him—then added, “I’m not feeling very well.”
“You’ve done enough, Sanar. Thanks for your help.”
“No—thank you, Master Skywalker.” Even as he spoke, Sanar was already retreating toward his landspeeder. “If you have trouble recovering your wife’s ship, call me for a ride. You have my comm codes.”
The Pydyrian was inside the X-40 and closing the door before Luke could reply. The quick departure was not as alarming as it might have been. When they had first arrived and stood gazing out toward the distant island, an unexpected atmosphere of disguiet had fallen over the clifftop and slowly built into a tangible sense of peril. It was probably no more than a Fallanassi illusion designed to keep intruders away from their temple refuge. But Luke had felt Ben reaching out to him earlier with a sense of wariness and unease, and he was well aware that Sanar’s eagerness to be gone might also be the first sign of a betrayal.
Luke took a moment to still himself in the Force and let it flow through him. He could feel a nebulous cloud of animal life in the windswept field atop the cliff, and in the sea behind him. He could even sense the waves of foreboding and mystery radiating from the distant island—no doubt the Fallanassi’s refuge and home. But his danger sense remained quiet, and he did not sense anything at all in the cavern directly below.
Luke began to rappel down the chalky face of the cliff, taking his time and remaining alert to danger. He could think of a dozen reasons Abeloth might have come to Pydyr, and none was good. She might have come intending to recruit an army of protectors. Or she might have known of Luke’s old romance with the Fallanassi leader Akanah, and come hoping to exploit the relationship—or take vengeance against Luke by killing an old suitor. Either way, the followers of the White Current were in terrible danger, and they needed to be warned.
As he drew near the cave, seabirds began to whirl about his head, diving and shrieking in an effort to drive him away from their nesting area. The cavern entrance was about twenty meters high and shaped like a lopsided O, with a slightly flattened bottom. He could just make out the Shadow, sitting on her struts about seventy meters in, a nebulous silver object only partially visible through a cloud of swirling, shrieking birds.
Before entering, Luke extended his Force awareness deep into the cavern—and felt nothing. Despite the thousands of birds, despite the cacophony and the air they stirred wheeling past to inspect him, he still felt no living presences anywhere ahead. He quickly pulled his blaster and lightsaber, then pushed off the cliff and descended in a free rappel, using the Force to pull himself deep inside the mouth.
After bumping aside half a dozen startled birds, Luke landed in a deep crouch about twenty meters in. He immediately dived for the cover of a nearby boulder and lay motionless, calling on his more mundane senses to locate the being responsible for deadening the Force inside the cavern. For a hundred heartbeats, he heard nothing but the birds and smelled nothing except their guano.
Then suddenly he could feel their presences, filling the cavern and spilling out over the sea. They were fierce little birds, frightened by his intrusion and on the verge of attacking. Luke poured thoughts of friendship and safety into his presence, and the birds began to quiet, both in the Force and in the cavern. He disentangled himself from the rappelling line and spun to his knees, taking care to keep his emotions calm as he peered around the boulder.
Walking toward him, Luke saw a tall, brown-eyed woman with tresses of curly brown hair hanging down her shoulders. Dressed in a simple white toga belted at the waist by a thin golden cord, she had high cheeks and a full-lipped mouth that seemed somehow sad despite its broad smile. She looked directly at Luke, and only then did he feel the waves of joy she was radiating into the Force.
“Luke Skywalker.” She extended her arms toward him. “Welcome.”
Luke rose and answered her smile with one of his own. Unlike everyone else he had seen on Pydyr, her appearance remained unblemished by the illusory pox, and there was no hint of fatigue or illness in her posture. He started across the cavern floor to greet her.
“Akanah. It’s good to see you.”
She scowled at his weapons. “You have a strange way of showing your pleasure.”
Luke glanced down and flushed with embarrassment, but returned only the blaster to its holster. “I apologize.” He gestured at the birds wheeling about their heads. “I’ve been pursuing a very dangerous … being, and when I couldn’t sense these birds in the Force—”
“Naturally, you grew suspicious.” There was a slight note of disapproval in Akanah’s voice, and she cast a meaningful glance at the lightsaber still in his hand. “What must I do to persuade you that you have nothing to fear from me?”
“Only convince me that you are you,” Luke replied. “Tell me the name of my mother.”
Akanah arched a brow. “You hold a grudge a long time, Grand Master Jedi. I had thought you would be over that by now.”
Luke knew by the sly smile that accompanied her words that he was not looking at an impostor. He and Akanah had met decades before, when she had tricked him into helping her find the Fallanassi by claiming that his mother belonged to their order. And while Abeloth might have known the facts of that meeting, she could not have known how Luke felt about the hoax—that he had come to understand Akanah’s desperation and had forgiven her, and that they had even become romantically involved for a time.
Certain now that he was talking to the real Akanah—and only Akanah—Luke returned his lightsaber to his belt. “I am over it.”
He stepped into her embrace and was surprised by the sudden sense of warmth and well-being he experienced. It felt good to know that Akanah still had fond feelings for him after all these years. But there was a pang of sadne
ss, too, as he was reminded of the arms he would never again feel—and that he never again need fear making Mara jealous when an old girlfriend held him a bit longer than was appropriate.
Akanah seemed to sense the drift of his thoughts and stepped back, still holding his hands. “I heard about Mara. I am very sorry.”
Knowing better than to force an insincere smile in Akanah’s presence, Luke nodded and squeezed her hand.
“Thanks, that means a lot to me,” he said. “We miss her, but Ben and I are doing fine now.”
“I am glad to hear it.” Akanah dropped her gaze to his weapons again. “Much more glad than I was to see you holding those. Surely you know better than to believe you have anything to fear from the Fallanassi?”
“Forgive my caution,” Luke said. He felt as though he should have been relieved to see Akanah, but he was not. There was something reserved in her manner—something that suggested he should not take her help for granted. “My quarry has some frightening abilities. I couldn’t take a chance.”
Akanah shook her head sadly. “Why do we always fear what we do not understand?” She took him by the arm and started deeper into the musty cavern, their feet slipping on the uneven, guano-slickened floor. “That is why I wanted to see you before you departed. I hope you don’t mind.”
“Of course not. I’m glad you came.” Now that they had been together a few moments, Luke could feel a flatness in her Force aura—a hint that there was something she did not want him to sense. “But you must know I came for more than the Shadow. There’s someone new among you—someone very dangerous.”
Akanah nodded. “Yes, Najee said you were looking for the pox carrier,” she replied. “There is no need to worry about her, Luke. We have the epidemic under control.”
“There is no epidemic,” Luke said, putting a bit of an edge into his voice. “And we both know it.”
“Then why are you here?” Akanah asked. “Surely you are not arrogant enough to believe that the Fallanassi need Jedi protection—or that we desire it?”
Instead of answering, Luke stopped and turned to stare out the cavern toward the white island. “Then you are hiding Abeloth?”
“You knew that when you came to Pydyr,” Akanah replied gently. “You also know that you are wrong to be here.”
“Looking for Abeloth?” Luke shook his head. “You only believe that because you don’t know what she is.”
“I know that you are playing with the White Current,” Akanah countered. “I know that your Jedi arrogance is what cost you your wife and your two nephews.”
“My Jedi arrogance?” Luke fought to keep his emotions under control. The Akanah he remembered would never hurt him out of spite; if she was saying such things, it was either because she had changed, or because she believed them and thought he needed to hear the truth. “We’ve made some mistakes, yes—I have made mistakes. But the Jedi aren’t like the Fallanassi. We don’t hide from the galaxy, we embrace it and we live in it—and that means we must sometimes fight to defend it.”
“To defend it, or control it?” Akanah asked, speaking softly. She took his arm and started toward the Shadow again. “The Jedi have lost their way—you have let them lose their way, Luke. First, they convince themselves that they are beyond light and dark—”
“That was never Jedi canon,” Luke said. “A Sith infiltrator attempted to corrupt our beliefs.”
“And she succeeded, did she not?” Akanah asked. “Consider the evidence. A Jedi Knight has assumed the throne of the Hapes Consortium. Jacen Solo took it upon himself to change the flow of the Current. And now, a Jedi Grand Master has joined forces with the Sith. If that is not corruption, I have no understanding of the term.”
Luke fell silent, more surprised by the accusations than hurt by them. Akanah had no doubt learned about the Sith alliance from Abeloth herself. But how she had concluded that Jacen had wanted to change the future, he had no idea. Luke himself had come to that realization only gradually, after retracing his nephew’s journey with the Mind Walkers and speaking with his spirit in the Lake of Apparitions. The only reasonable explanation was, again, Abeloth herself.
Half a dozen steps later, Luke finally asked, “Akanah, how can you know what Jacen was seeking? Is that something Abeloth told you?”
“How I know does not matter.” Akanah’s Force aura began to grow faded and hazy as she grew more guarded. “What matters is that you believe it, too.”
They reached the Shadow’s stern and circled around to port. The boarding ramp had been left down, and Luke was dismayed to see a dozen of the sharp-winged birds flitting in and out through the open hatch.
“The failure is not yours alone,” Akanah said, speaking in a gentler voice. “I sensed the shadow inside Jacen when he asked to study with us, but I allowed him to stay because he was your nephew … and because I believed I could help him find the light again.”
“Thank you for trying,” Luke said. “I know that you made an impression—Jacen spoke of you fondly, and with respect.”
Akanah gave a dismissive wave. “It was a mistake,” she insisted. “There was too much fire in him … too much will. I should have known he would leave before he was prepared.”
“Prepared?” Luke asked, surprised. “You had plans for him?”
Akanah nodded. “To teach him to accept. He had so much Jedi in him, always believing that the galaxy was his to save.” She stopped in front of the Shadow’s boarding ramp, and a cold fog began to obscure her Force presence. “That is why he became what he did, you know. It is why so many of your Jedi Knights become monsters. It begins innocently enough, with a vow to protect. But they have a habit of taking a burden greater than they can carry. Soon protection becomes control, and the Jedi protector becomes the Jedi ruler, just as Kueller did on Almania, just as Raynar Thul did in the Colony—just as Tenel Ka has in the Hapes Consortium. You assume too much, and the galaxy pays.”
As Akanah spoke these last words, a ripple of excitement rolled through the Force from the cavern mouth, and Luke realized they were not alone. He extended his awareness in that direction and was not all that surprised to feel his son’s presence just outside, hanging above the top edge—perhaps even on the same rappelling line he himself had used. And with Ben was Vestara’s presence, damped down and—save for the burst of excitement that had given her away—almost undetectable.
If Akanah had felt the ripple, she showed no sign of it.
Deciding to follow her lead, Luke said, “There’s great wisdom in what you say. But what of the evil in the galaxy? Should we allow the selfish to enslave the weak? The greedy to steal from the poor?”
“One cannot rid the galaxy of a killer without becoming a killer,” Akanah countered. “One cannot fight evil without doing evil. Did the Jedi learn nothing when they decided to stand against the Yuuzhan Vong?”
“The Jedi stopped a brutal and savage species from conquering the galaxy,” Luke replied, starting to grow irritated. “And later, we prevented a cruel retaliation against those same invaders.”
Akanah shook her head. “You prevented a change from coming to the galaxy,” she said. “That is all you did.”
“So we should have allowed the Yuuzhan Vong to take everything?” Luke countered. “We should have gone into hiding and allowed them to sacrifice trillions of innocents to their imaginary gods? Is that what you’re saying?”
“I am saying the Current is not ours to control,” Akanah replied. “We cannot know where it will carry us, or what turns it may take getting us there. We can only trust to its purpose and not try to bend it to ours.”
“And you believe that’s what Jacen was doing,” Luke said, once again probing for the source of her knowledge. “Trying to change something in the future?”
“No, I am convinced he did change something.” Akanah waved Luke toward the Shadow’s open hatch. “And that is why I must ask you to go and leave the ancient one here with us. Perhaps, with our help, she will be able to undo the damage.”
An icy lump formed in Luke’s stomach. “Undo it?” He wanted to ask Akanah if she had lost her mind, but considering who she had just admitted the Fallanassi were sheltering, he was not sure he wanted to know the answer. “How?”
“Why do you ask questions when you already know the answer?”
Luke understood, of course. Abeloth had promised to return the Current to its original course. Perhaps such a thing was even possible—but that did not make it a good idea. Jacen had looked into the Pool of Knowledge and had a Force vision of a dark man in dark armor, sitting on a golden throne surrounded by acolytes in dark robes. But when Luke had looked, two years after Jacen had become Darth Caedus and been killed, his vision had been of Jacen’s daughter, Allana, standing next to a white throne and surrounded by friends of all species. If that was the change Abeloth had promised to undo, Luke wanted no part of it.
Instead of ascending the Shadow’s ramp, Luke said, “Master Yoda once told me that the future is always in motion. We can never see it perfectly because it’s always changing.”
“Yes, you have told me about Yoda’s teachings before, when we were … traveling.” Akanah smiled at the memory, then continued, “We Fallanassi believe much the same thing—that it is impossible to know where the Current will take us, because the Current is ever-changing.”
A flutter of exhilaration rose inside Luke, and he began to hope that he might yet persuade Akanah to cooperate. “Then why would you want Abeloth to change it back?” he asked. “If we don’t know where it’s going anyway, how can we know that the old course is any better than the new course? Or even that it’s different?”
“Because now we do know,” Akanah replied. “When Jacen changed its course, he changed it to something—to that vision you saw in the Pool of Knowledge, of the white throne—”
“How do you know about that?” Luke demanded, interrupting to prevent her from mentioning Allana while Vestara was outside eavesdropping. “Abeloth?”
“Then it is true.” Akanah’s voice grew more resolute. “Jacen has turned the current toward a destination of his choosing—and you have seen it.”