by Rae Carson
Her lightsaber returned to her hand with a satisfying smack.
The crushed red remote twitched and sparked against the tree.
She glared at it as triumph filled her. Maybe patience was overrat—
Whispers filled her ears. No, her very mind. She whirled, seeking their source even as the realization dawned: It was happening again.
The jungle around her faded. All went deathly silent as sweltering darkness closed in, threatening to smother her. An image sprang to mind, and she flinched away, though there was no avoiding the horrible sight: Kylo Ren, black-clad and ferocious, his crackling red lightsaber slicing mercilessly through robed figures. She heard their screams, smelled their blood, watched as they tried in vain to flee or beg for their lives. Nothing slowed him. He was a juggernaut of destruction, monstrous and unstoppable.
Relief flooded her like a wave when the vision shifted, but it quickly changed to utter desolation as she saw herself, wind-whipped and alone, standing in a forsaken landscape of endlessly fractured ground. The hair on her arms stood on end, for the air crackled with electricity. Before her, a massive monolith jutted upward, scraping the sky. It was black and shimmery, casting a huge shadow.
The monolith shifted. Became a giant face of stone, cloaked in evil…
No, not a stone at all. A form of something, part human, part machine, with tubes stretching away from it like tentacles, all filled with a strange liquid. Was this creature alive? Or was it—
Flashes of Luke’s face. Then Kylo’s. Han Solo, his hand against Kylo’s cheek. A young woman in a hood. A freighter flying away from Jakku…
Finally, a burning voice in her head, as clear and unbearable as a desert sun: “Exegol.”
She whispered the word back, her voice shaking: “Exegol…?”
And suddenly she was standing before yet another giant stone structure, this one shaped like a huge claw, its thick, bent fingers grasping ever upward. Her legs twitched as if to flee, even as something about it beckoned to her, invited her. She found herself wanting to approach the massive claw-thing, wanting to know what it would feel like to run her fingers along its rough black surface.
The black claw-thing was a throne; she could see it now.
She took a step forward, but something beeped at her, and she hesitated. The beeping continued, grew more insistent. Clarity hit her like a quarterstaff to the jaw. Of course she couldn’t touch that throne. It belonged to darkness and evil. She had already chosen a different path, hadn’t she?
More beeping. Something appeared on the throne. A familiar figure. Rey blinked in shock and dismay.
Quick as it appeared, the vision evaporated like morning mist, and she was left gasping in the jungle. Rey was so relieved to sense the life and light and humid green around her that it took her a moment to come fully back to herself, to trace the sound of beeping to a felled tree, and beneath it a very indignant BB-8.
Rey dashed over to him, pushed some branches away. “I’m so sorry!” she said.
He babbled at her while she extricated him from the fallen trunk—it took a little help from the Force to free him completely.
One of the orange discs that protected his modular tool bay had popped off, exposing a dark channel to his motive system.
She’d hurt her friend. Poe was going to be livid with her, but not more livid than she was with herself.
The little droid warbled at her.
“Yes, Beebee-Ate, it happened to me again.”
He whirred at her, part question, part empathy.
“No, I still don’t know what the Force was trying to show me, but this time was…worse.” So much worse. Unspeakably worse. She stared off into the trees. Some of the flashes had been memories. Hers, and…Kylo Ren’s? “Let’s get back.”
Maybe she should tell Leia what had happened. Or maybe not. The general had enough things to worry about, and Rey needed Leia to believe in her, to trust her. What would the general say if she knew how Rey’s frustration and anger were triggering visions of death and dark power?
She just needed more training. More time meditating in the Force, more time seeking the peace Leia was trying to teach her. She could do it. She had to.
If only she could hear voices through the Force, like Leia could. Surely Luke could provide some guidance. As Rey and BB-8 neared the camp, she decided to try again. Nothing’s impossible, Leia had said.
“Master Luke,” she said. “I’m afraid.” Rey glanced around, making sure only BB-8 was there to observe her speaking to no one. Rey reached out to the Force and said, “Before I felt it, you saw it. I’m drawn to the dark side. Or maybe it’s drawn to me. I don’t know. Whatever it is, it’s stronger now, and I can’t push it away, hard as I try…I don’t understand it.”
BB-8 beeped.
“Shh, don’t interrupt. Master Luke? I think you can hear me, I need your—”
BB-8 beeped again, more insistently.
They had reached the edge of camp. “Seriously, you’re being annoying, go over there,” Rey said, indicating a large flight case.
He did as asked, but he warbled his indignation.
“It is how it works,” Rey countered. “There are Force spirits; Luke wrote about them in the Jedi texts. They come when you need them the most.”
The droid remained loudly skeptical.
Rey ignored him. “Master Luke,” she tried again. “I have visions of things that frighten me. I don’t want to lose this…Leia is how I dreamed a mother would be…and my friends…I don’t want to let them down.”
There it was. Her greatest fear. That these people she’d come to care for so much would be disappointed in her. Maybe even hurt by her. She’d been alone for so long…she couldn’t bear the thought of losing any of them.
“But no one here understands…except Kylo Ren. If the son of Han and Leia can be turned, can’t any of us?”
A twig cracked, and Rey looked up. Snap Wexley and Rose Tico were walking toward her, questions writ all over their faces.
“How much of that did you hear?” Rey said.
“Of what?” Snap said, failing to look innocent.
“Nothing,” Rey mumbled.
Rose’s expression softened with empathy. The commander of the Engineering Corps had a disarming quality about her. Whenever she spoke to Rey, it was all Rey could do to keep from spilling all her fears and worries to her friend. “You okay?” Rose asked.
“Yes, of course, I was just doing…”
“Jedi stuff,” Rose finished for her.
“Yeah.”
Thankfully, Rose chose not to press her. She said, “The general asked for you.”
Rey took a deep breath. It was decision time. Should she tell Leia about her dark vision or keep it to herself?
CHAPTER 2
General Armitage Hux watched—from a safe distance—as Supreme Leader Kylo Ren and a squad of stormtroopers cut a swath of blood and destruction through the pathetic Mustafarian colonists. They battled through the gloomy woods of Corvax Fen, one of the few patches on this hellscape of a lava planet that was cool enough to support native growth, if you could call this “growth.” Barren trees grew out of a noxious marsh, and the air was hazy with mist. The barbarian colonists were failing to put up a decent fight; their archaic halberds and broadswords were no match for the technical superiority of a good blaster, or even, Hux had to admit, a lightsaber.
Ren was a blunt instrument, a mindless dog, whose current obsession was putting all the First Order’s plans behind schedule. The general was half tempted to wade into the fight himself to hurry things along—just so they could leave this awful planet. Or at least he would be half tempted if his skills were not better used elsewhere. Best if Ren did all the dirty work; Hux was too valuable to risk.
“He’s almost beautiful to watch,” mused Allegiant General Pryde
, standing tall beside him. The older man had arrogant blue eyes and a high hairline that seemed immune to perspiration, even in a hell-climate like this. “Don’t you think?”
Hux refused to gratify that with a response, because true beauty came from discipline, from order. So it was almost against his will that he found himself mesmerized as Ren met a barbarian’s charge head-on, cloak flowing, mist swirling around him. The glow of his lightsaber occasionally snagged on his cheek scar, making it appear as though a crack of glowing lava slashed his face. It was like something out of a dream, or maybe a nightmare, as the Supreme Leader plunged his fiery crossguard into his attacker’s abdomen, lifted him from the ground, and sent him toppling onto his back. Kylo Ren did not spare his fallen foe a single glance, simply rushed forward into the woods seeking his next kill.
But there was no one left. Corpses littered the ground, barely more than lumps of shadow in the gloom. The air smelled of ozone and scorched vegetation. All was eerily silent as Ren looked around, catching his breath. Even from a distance, Hux could sense his disappointment that the killing was over, that no outlet for his rage remained.
Kylo Ren gathered himself and strode away into the woods, shoulders set with determination, lightsaber still ablaze. The mysterious object he had come for—dragged all of them across the galaxy for—was nearly within his grasp.
“He’s gone mad,” General Hux said, and the contempt in his voice was obvious even to his own ears. “Flames of rebellion burn across the galaxy, and Ren chases a ghost.”
“No,” Allegiant General Pryde responded, softly but firmly. “Someone was behind that transmission. And Leader Ren will answer to no one.”
Hux narrowed his eyes. Ren would definitely answer to someone, someday. He just didn’t realize it yet.
* * *
—
Kylo Ren showed mercy to nothing and no one, but he had a grudging appreciation for things that struggled to survive. Even though the nearest lava flow was many klicks away, it seemed as though the air ought to be too hot, too chemical, for life to truly thrive here. As they’d landed, Hux had proclaimed the planet a “desolate hellscape,” and Kylo hadn’t bothered to correct him. The truth was, Mustafar was teeming with life—all connected through the Force. Like those hapless cultists he’d just killed, who’d been obsessed with protecting Vader’s legacy. Or this forest of twisted irontrees they endeavored to cultivate. Or even the extremophile organisms that swarmed the lava flows. All fragile but determined, mutilated but indomitable.
It was no wonder his grandfather has chosen this place for a home.
Kylo strode through the trees, lightsaber still ignited. Malevolence lay ahead, along with a darkness that had nothing to do with the planet’s day–night cycle. But that’s not why he kept his weapon ready. He refused to put it away because for the briefest moment, as he was hacking away at Mustafarians, he had sensed her. Watching him. Now his guard was up, and it would stay up until he got what he came for.
By silent mutual agreement, the stormtroopers who’d accompanied him had declined to follow him through the woods, which suited him fine. He preferred to be alone for this.
A few more steps and the ground became soggy. The mist thickened. A small splash indicated that his presence had been noticed. Finally, the trees broke open onto a small lake with brackish water, bordered on all sides by forest and large black lumps like boulders, jutting out of the ground at odd angles. No, not boulders, he noted upon closer look, but rather fallen remnants of Darth Vader’s castle.
An oily film slicked across the lake’s still surface. But as Kylo approached, the water bubbled up in the center, sending tiny waves to lap at his boots.
A giant emerged, a hairless creature sheening with wetness, bits of lake detritus clinging to its pasty skin. Its eyes were squeezed shut, but it could still see after a fashion, because draped over its massive bald head and across one shoulder was a second creature with long spidery tentacles. The two were locked in symbiosis. Kylo sensed the giant’s pain, as though it were a slave to the spidery being that clung to it. Yet neither could it survive alone.
The spider creature spoke. “I am the Eye of Webbish Bog. I know what you seek.”
“You will give it to me,” Kylo said.
The Eye cocked its head, making an eerie squealing noise. It took a moment for Kylo to realize the creature was laughing at him. “No need for that,” the Eye said. “Do you really think my lord would have left it in the guardianship of one who could be swayed by a trick of the Force?”
No, he supposed not.
“You’ve been seeking it for a while, yes? I must warn you, our fiery planet burns away deception. If you proceed down this path, you will encounter your true self.”
Kylo was growing impatient. He glared in silence.
“Fine,” the creature said, as though disappointed that Kylo would not indulge him in ceremony. “In accordance with Lord Vader’s wishes, you have defeated my protectors and earned it. His wayfinder.”
The blind giant beneath the Eye raised its enormous hand from the water and pointed toward a small island in the lake. On it was a stone structure, like an altar.
Kylo turned off his lightsaber and hooked it to his belt. He waded into the shallow lake, soaking his boots and cloak. The water was warm, and the ground beneath the water a sludge that sucked at his feet. He ignored it all, reaching for a pyramidal object. It fit satisfyingly in his hand, heavy and hot, and he stared at it a moment, lost in its red glow. The sides were etched glass framed in deep-gray resin. The crimson light within seemed to pulse faintly. Ren had come a long way for this, and yet he hesitated, eyeing the pyramid with distrust.
“It will guide you through the Unknown Regions,” the Eye said. “To the hidden world of Exegol. To him.”
Whoever he was. The transmission purporting to be from Palpatine had reached the far corners of the galaxy. Kylo had it memorized:
At last the work of generations is complete. The great error is corrected. They day of victory is at hand. The day of revenge. The day of the Sith.
He wasn’t sure what to believe about it, but it was a fair guess that Kylo wasn’t the only one seeking answers. Others would follow the same path and come to Mustafar sooner or later, looking for this exact object.
So surely his grandfather would have made it harder than this? Those cultists were too easy to kill. This creature too easy to convince. Then again, he was Vader’s heir. The object belonged to him.
Now that he had it up close, the etchings in the glass clarified into patterns. Star charts. Alignment markers. Something stirred deep within him, suggesting ancient knowledge and power, and he felt a rush of triumph. It had all been worth it—diverting ships, sending out spies, tracing old records, enduring the smug disapproval of that idiot Hux—all to find this.
Kylo looked up, and was startled to discover that the Eye of Webbish Bog was gone, slipped back beneath the surface of a lake so still it was as though nothing lived within it at all.
How long had he been staring at the pyramid?
Kylo Ren wasted no more time. Dried blood made the skin of his face itch, and his boots and cloak were soggy with lake water, but instead of returning to his command ship, the Steadfast, he dismissed everyone back to their regular duties and jumped into his modified TIE whisper to make the next part of the journey alone.
No one protested.
He connected the pyramid to his navicomputer, attaching ports where indicated by the glass etchings. The nav interface lit up with new information, but it also blared a warning.
For these coordinates would take him beyond the Western Reaches into the Unknown Regions. Kylo overrode the warning and jumped his TIE to lightspeed. The stars turned to streams of matter.
The Unknown Regions remained uncharted because a chaotic web of anomalies had created a near-impenetrable barrier to explora
tion; only the most foolhardy or desperate ventured there—criminals, refugees, and, if the reports were true, remnants of the old Imperial fleet who had refused to accept New Republic rule.
A few planets had been discovered, but their populations remained small, and their trade with the rest of the galaxy had been throttled by the navigational risk. The Sith and the Jedi had found paths through to even more dangerous, more hidden worlds—or so legends said—and the specific, carefully stepped coordinate jumps required to safely navigate the anomalies were among their most closely guarded secrets.
The trip would be worth the risk. Someone was out there, claiming to be the Emperor himself, and Kylo could already sense ripples of doubt in the First Order. After all he’d done, after all he’d sacrificed to become Supreme Leader…who would dare to challenge him now?
But what filled him with absolutely incandescent rage was the thought that Snoke—his master, the one to guide him away from the duplicitous light, the one he’d looked up to above all others—has been someone’s puppet all along.
Kylo was done with masters. He would be no one’s lackey. He would destroy whoever—whatever—he found in the Unknown Regions. No one would question his right to rule supreme.
And Vader had left him a guide, a compass.
The TIE bumped out of lightspeed into rough space; it felt as though he were flying through gravel. He double-checked the nav—the TIE was on course. He had to have faith that Vader’s wayfinder would steer him true.
That, and the Force. Kylo Ren drew on all the rage and frustration of the last few days and gripped the controls in cold focus. Once his flight steadied, he sent his TIE to the next set of coordinates.
This time, instead of the streaming stars of hyperspace, his ship entered a glowing red mesh of hexes. He’d heard tales of the Red Honeycomb Zone of exotic space—some called it the Blood Net, others called it the Ship Eater—but until now he hadn’t been sure he believed any of them. It was one of the only known safe passages through the anomalies of the Unknown Regions, but it seemed malevolent and angry, and the sensor indicators on his console flashed wildly, unsure what to make of it.