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Han saw more and more of the Dathomiri running into the lake, despite the chill of the water. They waded out until they could stand upright with only their heads protruding. The tactic did not seem to be working: sparkflies dived at them, settling on their scalps, stinging and burning them through their hair, and more were clustering out there by the hundreds with every passing minute.

He glanced at his wife. “You can use the Force like a big public address system, can’t you?”

“I can make myself heard, yes.”

“Tell the ones out in the lake to duck under the water at the count of ten. Then count down.”

“You in the water!” Leia didn’t seem to raise her voice above the Senatorial projection and volume she’d been able to employ since she was a teenager, but her voice somehow carried to all corners of the camp. “When I call ‘zero,’ go beneath the water! Ten … nine …”

Beside Han, Carrack raised his blaster rifle to his shoulder. He did not fire immediately, instead jacking a clip of what looked like small cylindrical grenades into the bottom. A rectangular optic screen flipped up over the weapon’s usual sights, and Han could see images displayed on it, human-shaped silhouettes in a light green. Carrack was murmuring, barely audible through his helmet: “Target one, one five seven point three meters.” He swiveled just a bit, and a new silhouette appeared on the display. “Target two, one three four point two meters.”

“Two … one … zero!”

Han saw the heads of the Dathomiri in the lake go under the water. He aimed down and swept his flame across the water’s surface. His blast incinerated hundreds if not thousands of insects, and smoke rising from the spot baffled and dissuaded more sparkflies descending in their wake.

“Away.” Carrack fired and immediately racked the grenade launcher attachment on his weapon. He adjusted his aim and fired again instantly. “Away.” He aimed. “Away.” He fired.

He got five shots off before the first shell detonated in the distance.

Even for a Jedi, Ben decided, running full-tilt through a forest in pitch blackness was a bad idea. He grazed off one tree, stinging his shoulder, and crashed through a thornbush before the first pain of scratched flesh registered on his nervous system. Ahead, Luke seemed to be doing better, but not well; Ben heard his father smack a low-hanging branch, and the man’s startled exclamation was a word that Ben would never have thought to hear him say.

Another few steps and Ben tripped over something that felt like a log made of meat. He hit the ground in a graceful roll and rose. “Stang.”

“You all right?”

“I’m fine.” Ben took a couple of steps back and reached out for the object that had tripped him. He had a bad feeling about it.

His hand encountered a face. Its skin was cold. “Dead body here.”

“Our adversaries are concealing themselves in the Force. A reversal of focus. The closer we come, the more diffuse my awareness becomes—oof!” With Luke’s exclamation came a thrashing of branches and a tremendous thud.

“Dad!” Ben charged toward the noise.

Then there was more noise, a lot of it. Fewer than thirty meters away, ahead and to Ben’s left, an explosive detonated. Instinctively, Ben went flat to the ground. A moment later another explosive went off, ahead and to Ben’s right.

Seven more explosives went off at intervals of about a second, each farther from Ben and Luke. When it was done, Ben raised his head. He could see a stand of trees burning not far away, another burning off to his right. “Dad?”

“I’m fine.” Straight ahead, the darkness was briefly interrupted as Luke’s lightsaber ignited at an altitude of about four meters. Ben saw it move, cutting through what looked like a series of vines. Then it, and presumably Luke, dropped to the ground. Ben didn’t hear Luke land, but the lightsaber stopped in its descent.

Ben got to him. “What happened?” In the lightsaber’s glow, he could see his father’s face. Luke looked unhurt.

Luke gestured with it up into the air. “Net trap. Big stone counterweight. There were also