Elevating a fern chick coop so it could be rebuilt did not necessarily help that goal.

  But Zallah was calm and urged Kevmo to be patient. “The Path will balk if we press them too aggressively. We are better off biding our time and waiting for them to make a mistake. And they will, Padawan. We all make mistakes. The Path’s errors will be our opportunity.”

  After dinner, frustrated and unwilling to raise the matter with his master once more, Kevmo excused himself to walk the streets of Ferdan. Kevmo had no real destination; rather, he let the Force pull him through the streets. Despite the late hour it was still light out, and the market was doing a waning business as vendors packed up their meager offerings and headed home. Things were beginning to return to normal after the flood, but the market was a clear indicator that they weren’t quite there. Not yet.

  “Kevmo? What are you still doing here?”

  The Padawan turned to see Marda walking along in a daze, her blue paint smeared and her expression dejected. Kevmo immediately went to her, concerned.

  “Our skiff is damaged, and we’re waiting for parts. Hey. Is everything okay?” he asked, and before she could say anything, Marda dropped her basket and burst into tears, her despair a sucking vortex of emotion that Kevmo had to fight to maintain his sense of self. He’d never felt anything but the faintest of emotions from Marda. What had upset her so much? “Is it the Littles? Are they okay?”

  “Yes, yes, they’re fine,” Marda gasped as Kevmo picked up her groceries and guided her to a more secluded corner of the market. In the shade, he put a hand under her elbow, offering support. Marda struggled to collect herself, hugging her stomach. Kevmo realized he wanted to do more than hold her elbow. He wanted to hug her, tease her until she smiled again. But he did neither of those things, simply waited for the storm of her emotions to subside.

  She said, “It’s Yana. My cousin. I just found out she’s planning on leaving the Path, and I don’t know what to do. I thought…” Her voice trailed off. “I don’t know what I thought. That we would remain until we were Elders, I suppose.”

  “Do people leave the Path often?” Kevmo asked, trying to keep the excitement out of his voice. This didn’t seem too great a tragedy to him, and the Force was giving him a chance to discover more about the Path without pushing. This had to be the sort of thing Zallah had meant. Kevmo felt a little guilty prying, but Marda seemed to want to talk, so he was more than happy to listen.

  “No, not often,” she said, shaking her head so hard that the dark silky strands of her hair came loose from her braid. Before he could stop himself, Kevmo reached to tuck one behind her ear. Marda sucked in a soft breath and stared at him. “Why would they?”

  Marda seemed about ready to spin herself into distress again, so Kevmo took her hand in both of his and squeezed it. The contact felt more intimate than he’d meant it to, and Marda paused as her eyes met his.

  “Kevmo,” she murmured, and wow did he like how it sounded. She let her lips remain open when she finished his name. The tips of her sharp teeth gleamed.

  “Why don’t I treat you to a flavored ice?” Kevmo said a little hoarsely. He gestured to the nearby stall, breaking their intense eye contact. “And then we can sit and talk this through, okay?”

  Marda nodded, not saying a word, and Kevmo wondered if he’d made a mistake. Overstepped. He liked Marda. He wouldn’t want her to get in trouble for something the Force cult had done. She had a good heart and truly believed that the Force could be hurt, or that using the Force meant that people somewhere else in the galaxy got hurt. Kevmo didn’t believe that, but he also didn’t think Marda was a bad person. Even good people got confused sometimes, and he was willing to bet the Mother was the person the Jedi were looking for. It seemed strange he hadn’t met her a single time in all their visits to the Path.

  Carefully gathering Marda’s basket, he took her to the dessert stall.

  Kevmo got a bright-yellow sun apple ice, while Marda got a deep-purple durga berry ice. They made their way to a bench and sat down close enough their arms brushed. The suns were finally setting, and the night air was cooling rapidly. They ate their sweets in silence, and Kevmo was beginning to think perhaps he’d miscalculated, been too aggressive. He was a Jedi. Marda might think any interest he showed in her was a futile gesture at best. Which it…was. It had to be. He would leave and she would be left there, and that was just how it was. The thought shouldn’t make him so unhappy.

  “Thank you. And I’m sorry,” Marda finally said once they had finished their ices and returned the canisters to the vendor. “I’m not usually so emotional.”

  “I know,” Kevmo said with a small smile. “Do you want to talk about it?”

  “I don’t know,” Marda said. “Yes, I do. But I don’t know how I feel about it. I mean, I’m sad, but I’m also…angry. And I don’t know what to do with that.”

  “Angry at your cousin for wanting to leave?” Kevmo asked, and Marda shook her head.

  “No, I’m angry at her because she has everything and it isn’t enough,” Marda said. “She has a home but won’t see it. She’s one of the Children, Kevmo! The Mother chose her for a very special task, and yet she’s just going to turn her back on it? On us?”

  “The Children?” Kevmo asked. Marda had mentioned them before. “They’re the ones who go out into the galaxy to spread the message of the Path?”

  “Yes, but they do more than that. They are the most trusted members of the Path. They commune regularly with the Mother and the Herald, doing the hard work of going out into the galaxy. How can Yana share the message of the Path if she’s not part of the Children?”

  “Maybe she wants to do that in a different way,” Kevmo said. “Remember when I told you about the Convocation on Jedha? They discuss things there and talk about lots of different stuff and then take those conversations back to their respective groups, but they also sometimes recruit from among the pilgrims on Jedha. There are lots of different ways to commune with the Force,” Kevmo said, pausing when Marda’s expression lit up.

  “That’s it! Yana and I…we could go to Jedha together,” she said, jumping to her feet. “Yana is already one of the Children, and maybe she’s tired of how futile their work is. They’ve gone to Hynestia and Hon-Tallos, and we haven’t had any new recruits from either place. It must be so hard for Yana to keep trying to convince people of the rightness of the Path without success.”

  “I…I’m not sure that’s why Yana is leaving,” Kevmo began, reeling from the confirmation that the Children had definitely been to Hynestia, but Marda was so enamored of her idea she didn’t hear him.

  “Do you think…when you leave…” Marda said, turning her lovely eyes on Kevmo. With Marda radiating passion, he felt like he was falling into the starry dark of those eyes, drowning in their depths. He knew he was just being fanciful, but he could definitely feel himself falling into the headiness of Marda’s excitement. Especially when Marda held out her hands, turning them palms up in the way of the Path. “Kevmo, do you think Yana and I could go with you?”

  Kevmo blinked up at her, surprised by the question. “Uh, well, we’ll be returning to Port Haileap. But I’m sure Master Zallah won’t mind you riding along?”

  “Can we get to Jedha from Port Haileap?”

  “Oh, sure…” Kevmo said, his voice trailing off when he finally realized the full scope of Marda’s idea. He stood up to face her. “Wait, you’re going to Jedha?”

  “Yes! The Path should have a seat on the Convocation, right? And Yana is experienced at telling people about the Force. I think maybe she could teach me how to do what she does, and then I can take over for her. That way, she isn’t abandoning the Force. Plus she still gets to leave Dalna like she wants.” Marda threw her arms around Kevmo, and he froze, shocked at first by the physical contact.

  “Kevmo,” Marda breathed next to his ear, “the Force wills it. Can’t you feel it? The flood, Yana’s announcement right before leaving for Thelj tomorrow, all of this—it’s right. It’s exactly as the Force wills. Gifts freely given.”

  Kevmo blinked as Marda released him. “Marda,” he began, but stopped. Marda was looking at him intensely, and a strange heat began to bloom in Kevmo’s middle.

  Then Marda kissed him. Just a light brush of her mouth on his, and Kevmo was vaguely surprised kissing was something Evereni did, considering those sharp teeth.

  Then it was over, and he was reeling again and had stopped breathing.

  He stared at her, and Marda’s eyes were huge, too. She put her hands on his cheeks, thumbs gently stroking his family tattoos.

  “Marda, that—” But Kevmo didn’t get to finish, because Marda yanked him forward, kissing him even more fully.

  For a moment Kevmo lost himself, the taste and scent of Marda everything. She tasted cold, from the ice so recently on her tongue, like dark berries, and she was so careful even as she tilted her head to deepen the kiss.

  Kevmo was on fire with it, his hands full of sunlight and Marda’s hips, but he had to gasp for air and pulled back.

  Marda, smiling, let him. Her hands fell to her sides. She was looking at him like he was her favorite thing. Under that heady gaze it was difficult to regain his wits. He’d never—that had been—

  And he wanted her to do it again.

  That could not happen. He stepped back. “I, um, I should walk you back. One of the townspeople said the flood may have brought out the ice gators early, and from what I heard they’re pretty nasty.”

  “Yes, you’re right,” she said. She laced her fingers through his and gave him a smile as she took up her basket again. Kevmo returned the smile, and they made their way back to the Path in silence that was, for Kevmo at least, extremely fraught. Her hand in his felt like the only real thing, and he was grateful for the contact or he probably would have brought that hand up to touch his mouth.

  Marda hummed softly as they walked. Kevmo was grateful for that, too. Without conversation, he could focus on settling himself. He welcomed the warm Force with every step, its brightness so clear it obliterated his flushed emotions.

  At the boundary gate Marda said, “The Children have left again, and we don’t expect them for several days. But when they return, if you and your Master Zallah allow it, I hope Yana and I can go with you. I’ll convince her, and I’ll secure the permissions I need.”

  Kevmo could only nod, dazed. And Marda laughed joyfully. Just like he’d felt her despair earlier, her new hope punched at him. So he was not surprised when she hopped onto her tiptoes and kissed him again. Then she waved and left him there.

  Once Kevmo got back to Ferdan, he went straight to his room in the lodging house. Only Zallah was sitting there waiting for him, a bemused expression on her face.

  “Padawan,” she said, idly levitating her lightsaber above her hand, a thing she did when she had a difficult topic to tackle. “Lady Jara said she saw you in the market not too long ago.”

  Kevmo’s stomach fell. “Oh.”

  “Oh, indeed,” Master Zallah said with a sigh, snatching her lightsaber from where it hovered before her and clipping it back on her belt. “Sit. Let us discuss attachments.”

  Marda prepared with extreme care for her audience with the Mother. She was cleaner than she’d ever been, her hair plaited elaborately beneath her plain gray cowl, and after she dipped her fingers into the brikal-shell blue paint, Marda closed her eyes and drew the three Force lines during one slowly released breath.

  She was prepared.

  The next day, Yana and the Children would return from their current mission. Before they did, Marda would secure permission from the Mother to take Yana and establish the Path on Jedha as part of the Convocation.

  Her arguments were thought through and strong. Marda had spent every hour of the past three days working with the Littles and meditating on this future. She did not have sensitivity to the Force, but if she asked with open hands, the Force would always offer an answer. It had. This plan brought together all the skills Marda had cultivated over her life, and Yana’s, too. It was an adventure on behalf of the Force; it was leaving Dalna without leaving their home or the Path. Marda and Yana would remain together, the way she knew their mothers would have liked, even if Yana couldn’t admit it.

  The certainty settled low in Marda’s chest, like a new, shining organ come to life, because she’d discovered who she was meant to be.

  As she walked to the Mother’s cottage, Marda folded her hands over the feeling. She felt so warm, and had since she’d kissed Kevmo. Maybe, she admitted to herself once again, the heat of the star inside her was a little bit of a gift from him. She’d accept it, and employ it with all the devotion she could muster.

  Then if all went well, she could kiss him again.

  A smile twitched her lips. She barely believed she’d done it in the first place—her only previous kiss had not been nearly as sweet and ended very badly. A human girl in the Ferdan market had offered it as a gift freely given in return for the flower Marda had given her. The girl had kissed her cheek, and Marda turned her face to kiss the corner of the girl’s mouth—but then the girl’s father had dragged her away, citing a mix of anti-Path and anti-Evereni vitriol it had taken Marda weeks to untangle. Yana had consoled her but said, “That’s what your teeth are for,” with a little snarl.

  Yana probably wouldn’t be any happier about Marda kissing a Jedi. But that was too bad, Marda thought with a giddy hop to her step.

  The Mother’s cottage bloomed with color, even in the aftermath of the flood. The gardens were as lush as always, if slightly bedraggled. She never lost whole plots to disease or drought, thanks to the strength of her connection to the Force. The flowers were the best sign of the Force’s blessing on the Mother and, through her, on the Path of the Open Hand. As long as they bloomed, Marda would know her faith was true.

  She smiled and opened her palms for the Wookiee Jukkyuk, who stood as an honor guard at the entrance. He returned the gesture: the pads of his fingers were stained blue instead of painted waves on his face, given his preponderance of fur. Then the Wookiee opened the door for Marda, and she went in. The cottage was merely the entrance to the Mother’s caverns, but it stood as a monument to the home that had been built with love. The flood had not damaged it in the least, Marda was relieved to see. She headed for the staircase and descended to the Mother’s listening room.

  It was rare for Marda to visit, but she always loved to do so: the sun opal gleamed between stalactites and stalagmites, and the warm blues and thick gray carpets and pillows loaned it a softness and comfort Marda longed to savor.

  The Mother sat on a lush pillow, cradling her large purple jewel in her lap. Beside her were the Herald and Elders Aris Ade and Delwin. All three had the upper halves of their faces painted entirely blue, as was right for Elders of the Path. Marda was surprised her audience included those three but not discouraged. In fact, it might make this easier. Aris Ade in particular had been encouraging Marda to choose how to more actively participate in the Path.

  Marda knelt and bowed low, her hands open in her lap. “Mother, Herald, Elders,” she said.

  The Herald said, “Marda. You have come before us with a request.”

  Marda flicked her gaze to the Mother, who contemplated the massive jewel, caressing it with both hands, its weight clear in the way she cradled it. It gave off a soft lavender glow, making the Mother’s fingers look like the branches of a tree at sunset. And its surface seemed to shift, reminding Marda most of the Kessarine eggs just before they hatched.

  Someone cleared their throat, and Marda tore her gaze from the strange jewel. “I…yes, Herald. I have a request of the Mother and the Elders of the Path.” She smiled slightly at Elder Aris Ade, who returned it broadly.

  Finally, the Mother raised her head. “I hope it is not your same request, Marda Ro. I will not make you one of my Children.”

  Marda held herself stiff as the old disappointment shook through her. Then she nodded. “I accept that, Mother. This is a different request, that I believe will greatly benefit the Path.”

  “Let us hear it,” the Mother said, her features softening into encouragement.

  Bolstered, Marda said, “My cousin Yana is leaving the Path.”

  The Herald frowned.

  “I was unable to persuade her, for many reasons. I am sorry for that failure. But—” Marda glanced around at her elders. “I want to go, too.”

  Elder Aris Ade’s eyes widened in shock. Elder Delwin, a Weequay whose expressions Marda always had trouble reading, dropped his jaw—easy enough to read. The Herald was the one who spoke.

  “Marda Ro,” he chided darkly.

  But the Mother held up one hand, cradling the heavy jewel in her lap with her other. “Let us hear Marda speak, Werth. She is not going to leave the Path.”

  “No, I would never,” Marda said passionately. “I want to take Yana to Jedha and establish the Path there.”

  The Mother’s expression sharpened in a way Marda had never seen. But she said nothing.

  “Jedha!” said Aris Ade.

  Marda nodded. She kept her attention on the Mother. “There is a council of Force adherents on Jedha, and no voice from the Path. Conversations about the Force that affect not only the Outer Rim but the entire galaxy happen there!” Marda pulled back on her enthusiasm, determined to present her case plainly and diplomatically. She was not a child; this was not a whim.

  “Jedha would be nothing but a distraction from the Path,” the Mother said.

  Surprise gave Marda pause. She’d not expected such a hard line from the Mother. She sank back into her kneel to collect herself.

  “Jedha,” the Herald said, “is a good idea.”

  The Mother sliced a glance at him, then turned to Marda, her smile warming. “Remain patient, Marda Ro. Soon the Gaze Electric will be complete, and we will all go into the stars. I had thought to leave you here in charge of this home on Dalna, but if you are determined, you may join us. Then. Soon.”