Star Wars_ Fate of the Jedi 06_ Vortex - Denning Troy [169]
Luke could not bear the thought of Ben dying such a horrid and anguished death, but he knew he had very little chance of preventing it. The instant he tried to call on the Force, Abeloth would tighten her tentacle again, and he would drop into darkness. The cold tide of despair began to rise inside him, threatening to engulf him, and he felt a shudder of delight ripple through Abeloth’s tentacles. She was feeding on his fear, just as she was feeding on the fear of the plague-stricken Pydyrians—using it to fuel her dark side power, to heal the terrible wounds she had suffered when Luke killed the other two bodies.
Thin lines of blood began to appear as the strands bit into Ben’s flesh. The first hint of pain appeared in his expression, but he made a point of catching Luke’s eye.
“Don’t … worry.” He spoke through clenched teeth, obviously fighting to keep his voice from breaking. “I have a … plan.”
The statement was so ludicrous and unexpected that Luke would have burst out laughing … had he not been sick with fear. Still, he did not show his terror to Ben—he did not want that to be the last thing his son ever saw. So he rasped a few words past the pain in his throat. “I hope it’s a good one.”
Ben smiled. “Don’t worry, Dad.” He flicked his eyes toward his shoulder, but Luke did not see anything useful there—only Vestara, standing a pace behind Ben looking entirely remorseless. “It is.”
Taalon chuckled darkly. “Oh, really? Then I must finish this quickly.” He looked over at Abeloth and smiled. “Before young Skywalker escapes and kills us both.”
“No.” Abeloth stepped over to Taalon, standing so close their shoulders touched. “We aren’t done with him.”
One of Abeloth’s tentacles slithered up Taalon’s chest. His eyes widened, and his head drew back involuntarily. The tentacle continued to rise, pushing its tip between his lips—and then it began to pulse. Taalon’s expression changed from repulsion to surprise to hunger, and he leaned forward and began to suckle.
“Stang!” Ben gasped, making a sour face. “Just kill me now.”
Again, Ben’s eyes flicked toward his shoulder, and Luke realized with a sinking feeling that it was Vestara to whom his son was attempting to draw attention.
Luke couldn’t believe it. Here they were, both nearly helpless and on the verge of death, and his son was counting on a Sith girl to save them—a Sith girl who had betrayed them both half a dozen times already. Had he been able to, Luke would have shaken his head in despair. Ben had been raised better than that.
As Taalon continued to drink, he began to look less weary and haggard by the moment. His pupils contracted to tiny pinpoints of light, and Luke realized with a shudder that this would have been his destiny, had he allowed the Mind Walkers to convince him to drink from the Fountain of Power—or bathe in the Pool of Knowledge. There were horrors in the galaxy that transcended all the glories of galactic civilization, evils that had existed before the founding of the first city—and that would remain after the razing of the last.
Taalon glanced down at Ben. The thin lines of blood swelled into rivers as the Force net tightened. Ben’s eyes rolled back, and he hissed between his teeth. Taalon grasped the tentacle and began to drink more greedily.
“Fear will make you strong,” Abeloth said, encouraging him. “Fear is the food of gods. Drink deeply and you—”
Luke reached for the ceiling in the Force and—hoping Abeloth would be distracted enough for him to succeed—pulled.
But the tentacle tightened. His vision darkened. His knees buckled, his hearing faded, and he felt himself falling again.
Luke continued to pull.
The floor started to vibrate beneath a clattering avalanche of roofing tiles and cross-supports. Something