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She saw the Sith leaping down from the balcony, coming after her. He hit the floor, turned toward her, and collapsed. The big man lay on his side, eyes open and seeming to stare right at her. The pupils were bloodshot from the chemicals in the flash grenades.

The Huntress waited until he blinked. Then, seeing no other signs of movement, she held up her hand and shouted, “Cease fire! Cease fire!”

She thought briefly that his paralysis might be a trick, then discarded the notion. The Sith didn’t need subterfuge to win the battle; it was obvious he had them overmatched. The only explanation was that Serra’s drug had finally worked its magic. According to the instructions she had been given, they had four hours before they needed to administer the next dose.

With Jedder dead, the hired soldiers were staring at her, waiting for their next orders. The Huntress closed her eyes and reached out with her mind, seeking guidance. Someone else was coming: the blond woman from the camp on Ambria.

“You three go bring the airspeeders around to the front of the house,” the Huntress barked. “The rest of you gather up the bodies. Don’t leave anything behind that could link this to the princess.”

The survivors hustled to follow her commands.

She didn’t bother to tell them to hurry; they were already moving as fast as they could, eager to get away from this place where so many of their comrades-in-arms had fallen.

On an impulse, she bent down and retrieved the now extinguished lightsaber from where it lay on the floor beside the fallen Sith. She turned the curved handle over, inspecting it carefully.

She ignited the weapon and was surprised by its weightlessness.

“What about this?” one of the soldiers asked, holding up the duffel bag the Sith had dropped in the first few seconds of the attack.

“Take it with us,” she said absently, not even bothering to look over. “Give it to the princess.”

Infatuated with her new toy, she made a few slow, experimental swings with the unfamiliar weapon before extinguishing it and secreting it away in one of the pockets inside her robe, just as she had done with the strange crystal pyramid from the library out back.

Five minutes later they had the prisoner and their casualties in the back of the speeders, and they were heading to the drop shuttle that would take them back to Doan.

15

As Zannah brought the Victory in to touch down in her designated hangar at the Ciutric IV starport, she felt a sudden sense of uneasiness.

“Something wrong?” Set asked from the passenger’s seat, picking up on her discomfort.

I’m about to challenge my Master in a battle to the death, and I’m still not sure if I made a mistake picking you as my apprentice.

“It’s nothing.”

Set shrugged. He was sitting with his chair reclined, his legs stretched out, and his feet resting on the dash. If he was feeling any anxiety himself, it was well masked.

With the ship on the ground, Zannah cut the engines. She couldn’t shake the feeling that something was very wrong, but she had come too far to turn back now.

Is this a premonition of my own death? Will Bane end my life tonight?

“What now?” Set asked, sitting up and swinging his legs down to the floor.

When he had first accepted Zannah’s offer, she had sensed a clear reluctance in him. Over the course of the trip to Ciutric, however, he seemed to have warmed to the idea. Now he appeared almost eager … though Zannah was aware this could all be an act.

“When we arrive at the estate you need to wait outside,” she said out loud. “My Master doesn’t like uninvited guests.”

“I’ll hide in the bushes like a scared little Kath pup,” he promised.

“This isn’t a game,” she warned him.

“Everything’s a game,” he replied. “This is just one you really can’t afford to lose.”

“If I lose, you might end up dead, too.”

“Or I could end up as your Master’s new apprentice,” he countered with a sly grin.

“You wouldn’t find him nearly as tolerant of your impertinence.”

“Then