Star Wars_ Fate of the Jedi 06_ Vortex - Denning Troy [172]
“This is bad,” Vestara said. “They’re coming to their senses.”
“Just act casual,” Ben said. “We’ll be fine, as long as we don’t draw attention to ourselves.”
“That’s right,” Luke agreed. He had one hand resting on Ben’s shoulder, steadying himself. “They don’t realize Taalon is dead yet, so they have no reason to think anything is out of the ordinary here.”
There was a calm confidence in Luke’s voice that suggested he was experiencing the same waves of reassurance that kept rolling over Ben. Someone they knew was using the Force to encourage them, trying to tell them that help was on the way. The touch was not familiar enough for Ben to recognize, though he suspected his father knew exactly who was reaching out to them—and how far away they were. Ben just hoped it wasn’t another Fallanassi illusion.
Luke’s knee gave way again, and Ben sucked air through his teeth as his father’s hand clamped down on his semi-diced shoulder. But he didn’t complain—he was far too grateful to have a father there to hold on to him.
“Just keep walking,” Luke urged. “We’re almost there.”
“Almost is the problem,” Vestara replied. Nearly two dozen Sith had entered the circle now, and a few dazed eyes were beginning to swing in the Skywalkers’ direction. “They’re never going to let us board without Taalon or my father. It might be better to duck out of sight and hope they get distracted when they find Lord Taalon’s body.”
“We can’t wait,” Luke said. He pointed his chin toward the far corner of the island, where Ship’s red-veined globe was just starting to climb for the sky. “Abeloth is leaving—that’s why the Fallanassi have stopped killing intruders.”
Vestara frowned. “So?”
“So, we still have a chance of tracking her,” Luke replied.
“And that’s a good thing?” Vestara ran an appraising eye over both Skywalkers, then said, “You two are a long way from fighting form, and if you think I’m going after her alone—”
“Hardly,” Luke interrupted. The trio had closed to within thirty meters of the Shadow, but a lean Keshiri Sith with deep purple eyes and alabaster hair was starting in their direction—and motioning for others to follow. “We just have to finish this.”
Vestara looked at him as though he were crazy. “Why?” she asked. “Say you do manage to kill Abeloth … again. So what?”
“Dad, Vestara kind of has a point about that,” Ben said. He could think of only one reason a badly wounded Abeloth would flee her Fallanassi protectors, and it wasn’t because she expected the Skywalkers to return to fighting shape before she did. She had to be worried about fighting someone else—maybe a whole bunch of someone elses. “Killing Abeloth doesn’t accomplish much.”
“It keeps her weak,” Luke countered. “And that protects the Shelter Jedi.”
The observation struck Ben like a blaster bolt. Like his father and everyone else, Ben had attributed the Jedi Knights’ recovery to the death of Abeloth’s first body. But after discovering she was still alive, it had never occurred to him to ask why those Jedi were still sane. The answer, of course, was probably just what his father had suggested—after the destruction of her first body, she had been too weak to reach out to the Shelter Jedi. But if she ever regained her strength, she would certainly do so again—especially if she could use them against the Order.
As of now, the Skywalkers were the only ones in position to track her. His father had shed more than enough blood to use a Dathomiri blood trail against Abeloth. But if that didn’t work, they would have to track her by analyzing her hyperspace jumps—and to do that, they needed to be close