Star Wars_ Darth Bane 01_ Path of Destruction - Drew Karpyshyn [131]
He didn’t speak until the man stood directly above him, looming like the specter of death itself.
“There is venom in your body,” Caleb said placidly. “You have come for the cure,” he continued. “I will not give it to you.”
The man didn’t speak. Not surprising, given his state. The poison would have left his tongue cracked and swollen, his mouth parched and blistered. But he didn’t need words to convey his message as his hand dropped to the hilt of his lightsaber.
“I am not afraid to die,” Caleb said, with no change in his voice. “You may torture me if you want,” he added. “Pain means nothing to me.”
To prove his point, he plunged his hand into the bubbling cauldron. The scent of seared flesh mingled with the smells of soup and poison. His expression never changed, even as he withdrew his hand and held it up to show the scalded flesh.
He saw doubt and confusion in the newcomer’s eyes, a look he had witnessed many times before. In the past his stoicism had served him well, usually thwarting the plans of those Sith or Jedi who had sought him out for one reason or another. They couldn’t understand him, and that was how he wanted it.
He cared nothing for their war or what either side valued. In fact, there was only one thing he cared about in all the galaxy. And this performance was his only hope of protecting it from the monster standing above him.
The implacable man before him puzzled Bane. His only hope for survival had just been denied him, and he wasn’t sure what he could do about it. He could sense the power in this man, but it wasn’t the power of either the dark side or the light. It wasn’t even the power of the Force in any normal sense of the word. He drew his strength from ground and stone; mountain and forest; the land and the sky. Despite this difference, Bane could sense that the man’s power was formidable in its own way. Bane found its strangeness disturbing, unsettling. Was it possible he was actually going to lose this battle of wills? Was it possible this simple man—a man with only the faintest flicker of the Force inside him—was actually able to defy a Dark Lord of the Sith?
Had the healer’s mind been weak Bane could have simply compelled him to do his bidding, but his will was as unyielding as the black iron of the pot he had plunged his hand into. He had demonstrated that pain and threat of death would be ineffective tools in convincing him to change his mind, as well. Even now Bane could sense his mind building up walls to block out the pain; burying it so deep it almost seemed to disappear. And there was something else he was burying as well. Something he was desperately trying to keep Bane from uncovering.
Bane’s eyes narrowed as he recognized what it was. He was trying to hide the presence of another, shielding whoever it was from the Dark Lord’s hazy, fevered perceptions. He turned his attention to the healer’s small, ramshackle hut. The man made no move to stop him. In fact, he had no reaction at all.
The door was blocked by nothing but a long curtain that flowed gently in the breeze. Bane stepped forward and flipped it aside to reveal a small, ramshackle room. A young girl, her eyes wide with terror, huddled silently against the far wall.
A grim smile of relief touched the corners of Bane’s lips as he realized the truth. Caleb had a weakness after all; he cared about something. All his strength of will was useless because of this one failing. And Bane was not above exploiting it to get what he needed.
With a single mental command he swept the terrified girl up into the air, carrying her out to suspend her upside down above the healer’s boiling pot.
Caleb leapt to his feet, showing real emotion for the first time. He reached out to her, then pulled his hand back, his eyes flicking between his daughter and the man who literally held her life in his grasp.
“Daddy,