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The dealer droid collected the cards. “One kill to Lecersen. Two kills to Jaxton, plus ten for a clean hand sweep. Final results for the hand, Treen one, Lecersen four, Jaxton twelve, Bramsin two. Launch proceeds to Lecersen.”

Jaxton looked appreciative as the bet values blanked before the other players and his adjusted to FOUR THOUSAND CREDITS. He smiled at the others. “You shouldn’t underestimate the new boy.”

JEDI HILL CAMP, DATHOMIR

IN THE DEAD HOUR OF THE NIGHT BEN SKYWALKER LAY AWAKE IN HIS bedroll, in one of the lengthy waking spells he’d experienced between short bouts of sleeping. He could have slept well despite the discomfort of thin bedding over hard stone, could have meditated himself to peacefulness despite the danger they were in. But part of him wanted to be alert, awake for any change.

And so he was when the trickle of dark side Force energy passed overhead.

It was a strange sensation. He visualized it as if someone held the end of a ball of yarn and threw the ball itself across the room, there to be caught by a friend, stretching a single strand of yarn between them. But here the yarn was Force energy far above his head, and it hung in the sky, unseen.

Ben rose noiselessly and stared up after it. He saw only stars, a brilliant sea of them, a vista you could only get somewhere hundreds of kilometers from cities and lights.

There was noise near him. He saw a woman rising, staring up as he had done. He could also feel her, strong and distinctive in the Force—Kaminne.

He returned his attention to the sky. He kept his voice quiet, barely more than a whisper. “Any idea what that is?”

“The start of a spell known as a control web. Known by some Witches as the Crawler’s Perch, by others as the Guiding Net.”

“What does it do?”

“It allows firm and difficult-to-interrupt control of animals over a broad area.”

“Of course.”

“They would have used one like it with the sparkflies. But this one is stronger, meaning that the animals they will send have stronger wills. They—”

She broke off as Ben felt another thread of Force energy pass overhead. The first one had moved southwest to northeast; this one moved southeast to northwest.

Kaminne offered a vexed sigh. “They are building it fast. There is no subtlety here as with the sparkflies, just speed. I’m going to rouse the camp.” She turned and, with her toe, prodded at the dark shape of the woman sleeping nearest her.

Ben moved over to the southwest lip and looked down to where his father should be. He could not see Luke, but could feel him there, awake, alert.

In minutes, dozens more Force threads had passed overhead and the warriors and Witches of the two clans had been awakened. Now no new threads were being added, but Ben could feel the web of energy slowly descending, like an almost weightless net sinking through thick liquid.

Torches and glow rods were springing to gleaming life all over the hilltop. Ben noted that, though he was ostensibly owner of the encampment, the clan members turned to their individual clan leaders for orders. Tasander situated his warriors, spears forward and bows and blasters behind, as a wedge at the center of the southwestern slope. Kaminne split her force into two units and set up one unit, warriors ahead and Witches behind, to either side of Tasander’s wedge. Reinforcements and nonfighters stayed to the center of the camp.

And nothing happened. There was no noise at all from the woods surrounding the hill; insect noises had ceased altogether. Now a murmur, increasingly nervous, sprang up from the Dathomiri.

Ben reached a conclusion and sprang up atop a rock. “Your attention.”

The Dathomiri turned to look at him.

“What’s happening now is what the Empire and Alliance call psychological warfare. Why don’t they attack? you ask. Because they want you to get more and more nervous. They want your nerves to break. Are you going to let them do that?”

“Never.” The voice was Drola’s.

Others repeated his word. Drola’s voice rose above theirs. “Cowards