Star Wars_ The New Jedi Order 11_ Dark Journey - Elaine Cunningham [67]
“Jaina is not worldly enough for my purposes just yet. Perhaps this Jag Fel can help.” Ta’a Chume aimed a cool smile at her favorite. “Feel free to contribute your own efforts to the cause.”
Trisdin’s blue eyes narrowed at the casual, offhanded manner in which she offered his services. “It would be my pleasure,” he agreed, not without malice.
The glance Ta’a Chume sent him showed understanding but no offense. “Charm the girl,” she instructed. “Offer her a sympathetic ear when her handsome young pilot meets his unfortunate but inevitable end.”
She walked away, leaving Trisdin staring after her. He intended to do all that Ta’a Chume asked—he really had little choice in the matter—but he could not help but wonder what his own “inevitable end” might be.
And knowing Ta’a Chume as he did, Trisdin suspected that Prince Isolder would be the next to offer consolation
SEVENTEEN
Jaina eased open one of the ballroom doors and peered in. Her eyes swept the glittering assembly, looking for a tall, straight figure clad in somber black. The room was a swirling sea of bright colors and glittering jewels.
There was no sense of Jag’s presence, either. Like some of the people she knew—Wedge Antilles, Talon Karrde, and her father—Jag projected a strong presence through the Force, an energy very different from that of a Jedi but powerful in its own way.
And now that she thought of it, here was yet another gap in the conventional Jedi view of the Force. It couldn’t perceive or affect the Yuuzhan Vong, or account for people like Han and Jag. Maybe “light” and “dark” were not opposites after all, but simply two aspects of a Force far more varied and complex than any of them believed possible. She stretched out with her senses, trying to catch some glimpse of these larger horizons.
Suddenly a powerful presence flooded her awareness, and these thoughts vanished like the blade of a switched-off lightsaber. Jaina whirled to face Kyp Durron.
For a long moment she simply stared at the Jedi Master, disconcerted and slightly disoriented by the rush of his power over her senses. At the moment of his arrival she had been without shields, without boundaries. Jaina felt as if she’d awoken from a deep trance to find herself gazing directly into a sun.
He reached around her and firmly shut the door, leaving them standing alone in the corridor.
Jaina’s shields swiftly returned, and the details of this unexpected meeting began to take focus.
Kyp was somberly dressed in sand-colored Jedi robes, and his silver-shot mane had been tamed into dignified curls. Carefully controlled anger rolled off him in waves, and the expression in his blazing green eyes left little doubt concerning its target.
Jaina’s chin came up in an unconscious imitation of her mother’s regal poise. “Kyp. I suppose you left dozens of mind-controlled servants and guards behind you, stumbling around the palace in confusion. That’s your style, isn’t it? Not to mention the only way to explain your presence here.”
“Getting out will be easier. You’ll be with me.”
“I don’t think so,” she said coolly.
“Think again. I’m here to take you to your brother’s funeral.”
That was the last thing Jaina had expected. Kyp’s blunt pronouncement tore a veil from her heart, and for a moment the terror and fury and agony of Anakin’s death filled her senses.
Jaina hurled away these emotions and replaced them with an anger that matched Kyp’s. She planted her fists on her hips and stared him down. “You’re going to ‘take me’? You and what Sith Lord?”
He stabbed a finger at her in a gesture that reminded her a little too much of her father in a parental snit. “Don’t challenge me, Jaina.”
“Give me one good reason.”
His eyes raked over her, and the expression in them dispelled any fatherly comparisons. “You couldn’t channel the Force wearing that dress. There isn’t enough room in there for it to squeeze through.”
Jaina’s cheeks flamed, but no suitable retort came