Star Wars_ Fate of the Jedi 06_ Vortex - Denning Troy [168]
Taalon staggered up, so exhausted and sickened by his condition that he could not be bothered to run. He stepped to Luke’s side and, without ceremony or hesitation, pressed the blade emitter of his unignited lightsaber to Luke’s flank.
But Abeloth spun away, and Taalon’s blade crackled to life without injuring Luke.
“No,” Abeloth said. “First, you must do something for me.”
Luke glanced over to find Taalon frowning in confusion.
“Skywalker has already killed one of your bodies,” the High Lord said. “Are you sure you want to give him a chance at a second?”
“I want what you offered.” Abeloth started toward the back of the hall, where her other body—Akanah—lay at the edge of the glowing stage pit. “I want you to make Luke Skywalker suffer as we have suffered.”
Taalon’s lavender face transformed from an expression of bewilderment to one of understanding, and he looked toward the front of the hall, where the drone-and-crack of clashing lightsabers had assumed a new urgency as Vestara attempted to keep Ben from disengaging and going to his father’s aid.
Luke reached for his son in the Force, urging him to flee.
Abeloth’s hot breath hissed into his ear. “There is no escape, Luke.” She was speaking in Callista’s voice, with an edge so cold and vengeful it made his stomach sink. “Not for you … not for your son.”
Abeloth carried him to the edge of the pit, where Akanah’s burned and broken body lay, her back grotesquely crushed. Deciding to try again, Luke used the Force to reach into the vault overhead and … Abeloth’s tentacles tightened around his throat. He felt himself falling, and in his dream he heard the roaring clatter of a collapsing roof.
But it was only a dream, and he continued to fall … deeper … deeper … deeee …
WHEN LUKE AWAKENED, HE WAS STILL UPRIGHT, STILL WHEEZING, AND still locked in Abeloth’s grasp. Taalon stood a couple of meters away, on the adjacent side of the sunken stage. At his feet lay Ben, caught in a crackling net of Force energy and writhing in pain. Behind him stood Vestara, looking exhausted, battered, and—to Luke’s surprise—more than a little frightened and sad. Even Gavar Khai had been brought to the edge of the pit, though he remained unconscious and moaning in his Fallanassi-induced nightmares.
“You are weak because you have not been feeding,” Abeloth was saying to Taalon. “Mortals need to feed, do they not?”
“Of course.” There was impatience in Taalon’s reply, but even more, there was fear. “But I haven’t been able to keep food down since I fell into the Pool of Knowledge. Its water must have been poisonous.”
“And your healers cannot find the toxin?”
Taalon shook his head. “They’ve run every test known to us.”
As they spoke, Luke’s eyes were sweeping the area, searching for some way to escape that did not involve using the Force to spray them all with magma. But he was also listening, because if he and Ben survived—and he was determined they would—anything Abeloth told Taalon about what he was becoming might be a clue to destroying her.
When Abeloth did not reply, Taalon continued, “They’ve found nothing.”
“Why do you think that is?” Abeloth asked. “You have bathed in the Pool of Knowledge, my child. Is it that you remain truly ignorant of the answer? Or that you are afraid to know it?”
Taalon’s brow furrowed, and a look of comprehension and horror slowly came to his eyes. “I … I …” He looked over at Abeloth, his lavender face now so pale it was almost alabaster, then asked, “How?”
The tentacle around Luke’s throat tightened, and his vision began to narrow again.
“First, your promise,” Abeloth said. “Luke betrayed us, and for that, he must pay.”
“As you wish,” Taalon said.
The High Lord glanced down at Ben, still writhing at his feet. The Force net began to contract, and Ben’s eyes widened in surprise. For a moment, he seemed more confused