Star Wars the Truce at Bakura - Kathy Tyers [91]
“So you’re just the guest who’s not allowed to leave?”
“I won’t be here long. Let’s get out of here.” She balled her fists on her hips. “You, ah, found your way in. I don’t suppose you’ve thought of a way of getting back out.”
“Not yet.”
She rolled her eyes. “Not again.”
“Look, sweetheart,” he said thoughtfully, sitting down on the edge of the bed. “I jimmied the black box of a speeder and crashed it into their wall. As far as they can tell, I bailed out a long way back. Let’s lie low for an hour, let them check it out and look the grounds over—”
Heavy footsteps approached outside the hall door. Han sprang off the bed. “Can I get out up there?” He dashed toward the fireplace.
“Of course not. Too narrow.”
Too late. The door whooshed. Han seized a metal rod inside the blackened chimney, jumped as high as he could, and pulled up his legs.
“Have you seen anything suspicious out this window?” asked a helmet-filtered voice. Han wedged himself between two scratchy black stone walls. He wanted to gain more altitude, but didn’t dare attract attention by knocking down soot. Smoky residue made his nose and throat itch. At the thought of that guard droid sitting right inside the door, his hands got clammy.
“I haven’t tried.” Leia’s voice defied the intruder.
“Right. Stand aside.” He heard slow steps—two pair—and imagined a scanner team checking for life-forms. He wondered if stone blocked their equipment. He couldn’t reach his blaster. At any second, they’d notice that droid.…
“All right, you’ve run your check. Now get out of here,” Leia said. As if in tribute to the icy menace in her voice, the troopers’ bootsteps beat a hasty retreat. After a few seconds, she called from beneath him, “They’re gone.”
“Stand back,” he said. Cautiously he got a grip on both walls, then he straightened his legs and dropped. For an instant, he saw her standing with a horrified expression. Then carbon dumped like a downpour, obscuring his vision.
“Some rescue,” her voice observed.
“Suppose they’ll be back?” he asked, stepping sideways on the stone platform around the fireplace. Once the soot settled, he could see again. What a mess. The guard droid stood in a corner beside the door, artfully draped with articles of clothing to look like furniture. Leia’d moved fast, too.
“Yes,” she answered. “I think lying low is out of the question.” She ducked through a small door and reemerged carrying a large white towel. “Stand still. I’ll do what I can.”
One minute later, she dropped a black towel onto the floor. “You’re clean enough for now.”
Han had been staring at her repulsor chair. “Hey,” he said, “I’ve got an idea.”
CHAPTER
15
Gaeriel stood outside Eppie Belden’s door and straightened her freshly pruned bundle of cloudberry spikes. Each fragrant blossom could have produced a succulent fruit, but too many spikes on a vine made the fruit tiny and sour. The symbolism—some blossoms, some lives cut off to allow a few to grow stronger—gave her small comfort. Would Eppie understand that her husband for over a century had died in Governor Nereus’s custody? Or would he return again and again in her perception, like Roviden?
Eppie’s caregiver opened the door. “Good morning, Clis.”
“Hello, Gaeriel.” Clis stepped aside with a queer expression on her round face. “Come in. Quickly.”
“Something wrong?” Gaeriel walked past Clis toward Eppie’s favorite wing chair. No one sat in it. “Where is she?” Gaeriel asked, alarmed.
“In the study.”
“The study?”
“See for yourself.”
Gaeriel strode through the dining area to Orn Belden’s office. A work screen silhouetted a small, hunched figure. “Eppie?” Gaeri cried.
The figure turned around. Eppie Belden’s wrinkled face glowed with the intensity of a small bird’s. “You know anyone else who’s likely to be here?”
“She’s been like that all morning,” murmured Clis. “Go on in. She’s been asking for you.”
“And for that young man.” Eppie paddled her repulsor chair away from the work screen. “Who was he? Where did he come from?”
Stunned almost beyond