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But he had no scars. Not one. Not a single tattoo that Anakin could detect, and he could see most of the fellow because he wore only a sort of loincloth.

Now and then he touched something on the surface of the carapace, and the boat creature altered course slightly.

“Stay hidden,” Rapuung said, and stood.

“Qe’u!” he called.

Through the concealing roots, Anakin saw the other man’s head snap around in surprise. He uttered a string of words Anakin didn’t understand, and Vua Rapuung replied in kind. The floater began turning in their direction, and Anakin dug himself lower.

The two Yuuzhan Vong continued their conversation as the floater drew nearer to shore.

Anakin took several deep, steadying breaths. He’d been thinking about Vua Rapuung’s prudence; it was time to start thinking of his own. When would the Yuuzhan Vong stop needing him? Now? When they reached the shaper base? When he’d exacted whatever revenge he was after? It could be anytime. He remembered what he had told Valin about the Yuuzhan Vong and their promises. Was there any reason to believe Rapuung would keep his?

Anakin suddenly noticed that the two had stopped talking. Just as he was thinking about taking a look, he heard a loud splash.

“You may come out from cover now, infidel,” Rapuung said in Basic.

Anakin rose warily from his hiding place. Rapuung stood on the floater. Alone.

“Where did he go?” Anakin asked.

Rapuung gestured toward the water on the other side of the floater. “In the river.”

“You threw him in? Will he drown?”

“No. He is already dead.”

“You killed him?”

“A broken neck killed him. Mount the vangaak and let us depart.”

Anakin stood there for a moment, trying to master his anger.

“Why did you kill him?”

“Because to leave him alive was an unacceptable risk.”

Anakin almost retched. Instead, he climbed up onto the floater, trying not to look at the corpse floating beyond.

That was one innocent, unarmed sapient being dead because Anakin had saved Rapuung’s life. How many more would there be?

Rapuung began manipulating several knobby projections on the carapace. Anakin assumed they were nerve clusters or something of the sort.

“Who was he?” he asked, as the floater turned sluggishly downstream.

“A Shamed One. A person of no consequence.”

“No one is of no consequence,” Anakin said, trying to keep his voice steady.

Rapuung laughed. “The gods cursed him at birth. Every breath he drew was borrowed.”

“But you knew him.”

“Yes.”

They continued down the river at a leisurely pace. “How did you know him?” Anakin persisted. “What was he doing up here?”

“Trawling the stream. It was his usual route. It used to be mine.”

“You’re an angler?” Anakin said incredulously.

“Among other things. Why so many questions?”

“I’m just trying to understand what happened.”

The warrior grunted and held his silence for five minutes. Then, almost reluctantly, he turned to Anakin.

“To find you, I had to disappear. I faked my death out here, on the water. I made it appear as if some water beast had eaten me. They gave Qe’u my route. I will return and tell a story of how I survived, lost on this strange world, until I came across the vangaak, pilotless. I will not know what happened to Qe’u. Perhaps a Jeedai killed him, perhaps he met the same water beast I did.”

“Oh. And they’ll let us through the security on the river. But why should they believe that story?”

“They will not care. He was a Shamed One. His death will be of no concern. Even if they suspect I killed him for some reason, no one will question my story.”

“And how will you explain me?”

Rapuung grinned nastily. “I won’t. They won’t see you.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

Nen Yim found her master staring into the waters of the succession pool—the heart, lungs, and liver of the damutek. It rippled slightly as the native food fish of the moon investigated her shadow. It smelled faintly of sulfur, iodine, and something oily and burnt, almost like singed hair.

Master Mezhan Kwaad’s headdress was woven into an expression