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Outside the circle, Laranth had her blasters trained on the boy.

“It’s just a drill,” Jax said. “Just a drill. Calm down.”

Slowly the red rage melted from the boy’s eyes, to be replaced by miserable fear. “I’m—I’m sorry. I don’t know what happened. I just lost it. I’m so sorry.”

“That,” said Jax, “is what we have to work on, Kaj. You can’t use the Force out of anger or hatred. You draw on the dark side when you do that. Remember: There is no passion; there is serenity.”

Kaj’s shoulders slumped and he nodded. “There is no ignorance; there is knowledge. I need knowledge.”

“No kidding,” muttered Laranth, holstering her weapons.

Fear flickered again in the boy’s eyes. “I don’t want to go to the dark side, Jax. I don’t want to be like that Inquisitor. I felt him. When he came after me. He was all cold hatred like … like a frozen methane lake. He wanted to kill me and he didn’t even know me. I don’t want to be like that. Teach me not to be like that, please.” He looked from one Jedi to the other in naked entreaty.

“We’ll try,” Jax said, looking to Laranth for accord. If we survive the lessons, her expression said.

“The good news is that nothing leaked out,” Jax continued. “I saw what was happening, but I didn’t sense it.”

“Lucky you,” added Laranth drily. “If you’d been blindfolded, you’d be dead now.”

And if anyone had told me two days ago that that would be a comforting thought, Jax thought, I’d’ve called them crazy.

They moved to more gentle pursuits after that, the two Jedi putting Kaj through a series of meditative exercises geared to feeling the textures of the world around him, using only the Force. That was far more successful, and Kaj seemed to have left the shadow of his explosive first lightsaber practice behind. They ate and then the boy slept on a couch Jax pulled into the light cage.

“He looks even younger when he’s asleep,” Jax commented. “Makes me feel ancient.”

Laranth said, “You’d never suspect he was capable of blowing this entire building apart, would you?”

Jax chuckled, realizing suddenly how much he’d missed the Gray Paladin. He glanced at her, sprawled with feline grace on a low couch in the upstairs living room, and wondered how he had ever been foolish enough to let her leave. A couple of thoughts collided in his head on their way to his mouth: Ask her to come back to the team and help train the boy. Ask her what she really thinks of Tuden Sal’s plot.

He opened his mouth to speak—and at that moment, the door in the foyer chimed, then glided open to admit I-Five, Den, and Dejah.

Laranth came to her feet in one whip-like movement. Gone was the relaxed pose; the atmosphere of warm contentment fled with it.

Confused, Jax rose. Clearly, he couldn’t ask her anything now. “How did it go?” he asked I-Five.

“It went well. The female is on her way to Orto, where a highly placed family is waiting to embrace her. I note that the building is still standing, so I assume things also went well here?”

Jax glanced at Laranth, but she had retreated from them, her facial expression as impenetrable as a duracrete wall.

“Mixed bag,” he admitted. “The bad news is that Kaj had another episode. He got frustrated with the practice droid and destroyed it. The good news is the sculptures didn’t let any of that out.”

Now Laranth met his eyes, silently noting his obvious omission—how close he’d come to dying.

“You modified them, then?” Dejah asked, sorrow etching her voice.

“If we hadn’t,” Laranth said coolly, “there wouldn’t be a chance that Kaj would ever get trained. Oh, and this place would be crawling with Inquisitors right now.” She turned to Jax. “I should go. I’ll take Thi Xon Yimmon your message.”

“Uh, sure,” Jax said. “Let me know when I can see him. It needs to be soon. Today, if possible.”

She nodded curtly and left.

“You’re meeting with Yimmon?” I-Five asked.

“I need to resolve a couple of things with him.” He told them about Pol Haus’s message, the unsubtle this-is-not-a-threat speech, the hint that he and Laranth both felt pointed to the Whiplash