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“That and loads more,” Tahiri said.

“What happened here?”

“I let my guard down,” she said. “Nom Anor has something in one of his eyes that shoots poison.”

“Did he hit you with it?”

“No. But when I dodged, I hit the rail, and then he knocked me over it.”

“And Harrar?”

“I don’t know. He attacked Nom Anor, I think. Maybe he’s gone after him. Which is what we ought to do.”

Corran peered outside at the dark and the rain. “I agree. But how to track them in this, without the Force?”

“I have my Vongsense,” Tahiri said. “If he hasn’t gone far, I might be able to sense him.”

Corran produced a small glow rod, and in its light they found muddy, water-filled footprints leading back toward the heights. They followed the prints until they came to a narrow ridge of stone.

“At least there’s only one way to go,” Corran said.

As they ascended, the lightning reached a crescendo, striking in the valley where they had been staying every few seconds or so. The roar was so steady they couldn’t hear each other speak. Then—rather abruptly—it was over. The rain slacked off, and then ended, and the wind subsided to a clean, wet breeze.

The ridge continued until it joined a larger one, ascending the whole time.

“He’s going for high ground,” Corran said. “Can you sense your lightsaber?”

“No,” she said. “There’s something interfering—more than usual.”

“I feel it, too,” Corran said. “It’s Zonama Sekot. Something’s wrong.”

“We failed,” Tahiri said. “Whatever Nom Anor was going to do, he’s already done it, I’m sure of it.”

“There may still be time to stop him,” Corran replied. “Concentrate. Use your Vongsense.”

She closed her eyes, and he felt her relax, reaching out to someplace he couldn’t go.

“I feel him,” she said at last. “Up ahead.”

By the time the east was gray with dawn, they had reached a broad, upland plateau that showed signs of recent convulsion. The stone beneath the soil had split in places, rearing up to reveal its strata. The soil was black and ashy, and the vegetation was low when there was any at all, though the charred trunks of larger boras still stood here and there, like the columns of ruined temples.

“I’ve lost him,” Tahiri said, a tinge of despair in her voice. “He could be anywhere up here.”

Corran agreed. Where there was soil, it was spongy with a dark green web of grass that resisted tracks.

“We’ll keep going in the same general direction,” Corran said, “unless—”

Far above, they heard a faint report, like very distant and brief lightning.

“Sonic boom,” he murmured, searching the skies with his gaze. The clouds had cleared away, leaving only a few thin ones very far up.

“There,” Tahiri said. She pointed to a swiftly moving spot, high above.

“Good eyes,” Corran told her. “I’ll give you one guess where that’s going.”

“Wherever Nom Anor is.”

The dot was descending rapidly toward the plateau. Corran peered along its projected path and caught a hint of motion near a copse of low trees.

“Come on,” Corran said. “If we run, we might get there in time.”

“We will,” Tahiri swore.

Nom Anor was watching the ship approach when the ground beneath his feet suddenly shuddered. It lasted for only an instant, but he knew it was only the beginning. He looked off toward the still-visible field guides and saw a white plume curling up toward the sky. He curled his lip—if he had timed this wrong, if he died in the explosion he had caused, how the gods would laugh.

The grass off to his left rustled, and from the corner of his eye, Nom Anor glimpsed unnatural color. Turning as if in a dream, he beheld Corran Horn stepping into the clearing, his eyes full of death.

Nom Anor glanced up at the approaching ship. It was only moments away, but that was longer than it would take for the Jedi to kill him. He touched his hand to the stolen lightsaber—

And ran, into the low-sprawling copse of trees behind him. He need only buy enough time for Choka’s ship to land and dispatch warriors.

Corran Horn shouted and ran after him.

Nom Anor dodged through the trees, leaping an old fissure, then bore to his left,