Star Wars_ Fate of the Jedi 06_ Vortex - Denning Troy [20]
“My patience grows short,” Taalon warned. “If you believe you can deceive me, you are mistaken.”
“It was my guides from Sinkhole Station,” Luke explained. The first set of eyes began to glow with the same golden anger he had seen on his previous visit, and he glanced away, making the movement quick and obvious. “They weren’t very trustworthy.”
“Or so you would have me believe.” As Taalon spoke, his gaze shifted toward the fountain, and he let out an audible gasp as more sets of eyes began manifest around the first. “Who are they?”
Luke could only shake his head. “Your guess is as good as mine,” he said. “Destructors? Manifestations of the dark side? More beings like Abeloth?”
“Prisoners …” Taalon said, leaping to his own conclusion. He shot Luke an angry glance. “Just as you hoped I would become.”
Luke put on an innocent face, then protested, “I wanted to go back to Abeloth’s cave.”
“A ploy,” Taalon said. “Had you shown your eagerness, I would have sensed your trap.”
“You’re too clever for me again, Lord Taalon.” As Luke spoke, he experienced the familiar jab of his son’s Force touch. Ben felt worried and seemed to be trying to warn him about something, urging him to stay alert and keep his guard up. Obviously, something must have gone wrong back aboard the Shadow—but there was no use letting Taalon know. Luke turned back to the fountain and, maintaining a deliberate air of calm, pointed at one of the more alien-looking sets of eyes. “Any idea what species those might belong to?”
“None at all.” Taalon stood gazing from one set of golden eyes to another for several moments, then gave a sudden shiver and looked away. “But their promises are not to be trusted.”
“Promises?” Luke’s surprise was as real as his alarm. The darkness in the fountain had clearly reached out to Taalon in a way that it had not to him, and whether it was promising to reveal Abeloth’s true identity or the secret of drawing on the fountain’s power, that could only mean trouble. “They’re actually speaking to you?”
Taalon turned to Luke with a sneer. “Your act grows annoying, Master Skywalker.” He spun on his heel and started away from the basin. “It was a cunning trap, but nothing in this galaxy is harder to trick than a Sith High Lord.”
WHEN VESTARA LOOKED OVER HER SHOULDER, SHE SAW ONLY THE fern-and-fungus jungle swallowing her path. When she paused to listen, she heard only the hammering of her own heart. When she pulled the hot, humid air through her nostrils and down into her heaving lungs, she smelled only the sour taint of her own fear. But she knew Ben Skywalker was behind her, just twenty or thirty meters down the slope. She could feel him, a fierce, fiery presence in the Force, clambering up the ridge behind her, tireless and determined and unforgiving.
It was her own fault, of course. Vestara could have tossed a thermal detonator into the medbay as she locked Ben inside, or she could have taken a minute to sabotage the Shadow’s fusion core before rushing away. But she had told herself that Ben was too quick and cunning to eliminate so easily, that trying to kill him would only decrease her chances of reaching Lord Taalon with the news of Ship’s return. The truth was, she simply had not wanted to kill Ben. She had allowed her fondness to become weakness, and Vestara detested weakness … especially in herself.
Continuing to bound up the ridge, and drawing on the Force to combat her growing exhaustion, Vestara dared to glance back. She saw no sign of Ben, only a handful of fronds still fluttering in her wake. They would be still by the time he passed, and the thick undergrowth was perfect for an ambush. All she had to do was think of a way to negate his danger sense … or to overwhelm it. If she could find a circle of paroxispore or a brake of acid-feather, Ben would not