• Choose a category
• All
• Classic-Fiction

Anakin’s expression immediately soured. “But I was hoping—”

Luke held a hand up. “Stretch out with your feelings, Anakin. Can you feel Daeshara’cor here?”

The youth hesitated for a moment, then shook his head. “No.”

“No, indeed.”

Chalco frowned. “You didn’t expect to find her here?”

“Not unless something highly unusual is going on. I think she came here for information.” The Jedi Master sat as far forward as the restraining straps would allow. “We will learn what she learned, then move on. That’s when we’ll need you, Chalco.”

“What about me?” Anakin asked.

“You’re vital to all this, too, Anakin, that much I know.”

His nephew’s expression brightened. “What am I going to be doing?”

“I’m not certain. The Force hints at times, and hints are all I have. And the hint for right now is that you’ll be staying with the Skate.”

“You wouldn’t be saying that because it’s easier than telling me to stay because you’re my uncle, right?”

Luke arched an eyebrow at him. “Anakin!”

The comm speakers in the lounge crackled for a second, then Mirax’s voice poured from them. “We are on final approach. A landspeeder is waiting for us. We’ll be on the ground in a minute.”

Luke smiled. “And if all goes well, we’ll be off again inside an hour.”

A temperate world with almost an equal mix of land mass and ocean, Vortex consisted primarily of vast grassy plains of blue-green grasses that whipped this way and that by the gusts of wind. The Vors themselves were a humanoid species of mammalian stock. Hollow-boned, with leathery wings that let them glide on the thermals rising from the plains, the Vors had an incredible sense of harmony within their species and with their world. This harmonic nature had inspired them to create the Cathedral of Winds.

As the landspeeder approached it, threading between two large colonies of thatched dwellings, Luke found the Cathedral to be something at once tied to the world, yet something completely alien to it. While the Vors were clearly capable of advanced materials manipulation—since without these skills the tall crystalline spires could never have been raised—they reserved such construction for special projects. Their homes were of the world and would nourish the world, whereas the glassy towers were made to be more permanent and impressive.

The winds fed into the Cathedral, rushing through hollows, twisting through clear tubes. Thin walls vibrated, filling the air with a ringing peal that undulated in tone. Transparent louvers connected to gears that, in turn, were connected to propellers, making the louvers rise and fall, sharpening and softening sounds. The very building seemed almost a thing alive, giving voice to thousands. And during the Concert of Winds, the Jedi Master knew, the Vors would use their bodies to shift the sounds, truly making that performance into a living symphony.

Mirax slowed the landspeeder, then brought it to a stop, allowing Mara and Luke to disembark five hundred meters from the towering cathedral. Standing there between the two Jedi and the crystal structure was a tall, blue-skinned female. She wore a gown of midnight blue that set off her flesh color and pearlescent feathery hair. Luke had once heard the term ethereal used to describe her, and here, at the Cathedral of Winds, it seemed so appropriate. Willowy and even fragile, she seemed a phantom composed of the melody washing over him.

As he approached, he smiled at her and was a bit dismayed to see that she did not return his smile. “Greetings, Qwi Xux.”

She nodded. “Greetings, Master Skywalker. It has been a long time. I am sorry you came all this way. I cannot help you.”

Mara frowned. “How can you say that?”

The frail Omwati smiled knowingly. “I know many things, Mara Jade. I know that when, with Wedge, I helped repair the damage here I did something that was good. After leaving him, I realized that this was the only place where I found peace. I returned and begged the Vors to let me continue my work