Yana left her slicer kit where it was and opened the door, only to find the human woman turned away from her, toward the sounds from the garden. Clearly expecting the screams. Yana wasn’t sure what was happening, but one thing was certain, the sounds of distress came from Kor. And if her girlfriend was in trouble, there was nothing to do but take every single obstacle out of the way of her safety.

  Yana moved quickly, Evereni stealth on her side. It was simple to step forward and grab the human woman’s head, yanking it hard to the right and breaking her neck. The woman fell to the ground like a heap of dirty laundry. Humans were so fragile. Yana sometimes thought it was amazing they even survived to adulthood.

  And then she was striding down the hallway, toward the garden and the sounds of the fight beyond.

  When she stepped out into the garden, the grow lights temporarily blinding her before her eyesight adjusted, Treze was trying to fend off the Duros with his throwing knives while Kor had vaulted onto a nearby roof. The human had a blaster pointed at her, and Kor’s hands were up in surrender.

  Yana didn’t hesitate. She ran toward the human man, who turned toward her at the last moment. He fired, but Yana was already crouched low, avoiding the shot. She slid toward the man, aiming a kick at his knee, which bent the wrong way with a sickening crunch.

  “Gah!” he screamed, firing wildly. Yana didn’t pause. She flipped herself onto the man’s back, somehow avoiding the blaster bolts. She used her nails, jamming them into the soft skin of the man’s neck. Blood fountained and the human gurgled, but Yana was already stalking toward the remaining guard as the human’s body hit the ground with a hollow thunk.

  The Duros man whirled on Yana, and Treze took the opportunity to stab him with his long knife. Once the guard was on the ground, Kor leapt off the roof and came to stand next to them, holding her side.

  “Are you okay?” Yana asked as she picked up the blaster the human had dropped, and Kor shook her head.

  “No,” she said, her voice low. She lifted her hand to reveal a long gash in her robes, soaked through with bright green blood. “But I’ll live.”

  “What happened?” Yana asked.

  “I’m not sure how, but they knew why we were here,” Treze said. “It’s like somebody told them.”

  “Did you disarm the security system?” Kor asked, wincing as she adjusted her weight.

  Fury built under Yana’s skin as she pressed her hand to Kor’s bleeding wound. Somebody told them.

  “Yeah, but forget about that,” Treze said. “We have to get out of here. There have to be more than three guards in a place this big.”

  “We need to find the artifact,” Kor said. But no sooner were the words out than she was falling forward, Yana reacting quickly to catch her.

  “Kor,” Treze said, alarm widening his eyes. “Are you all right?”

  Kor said nothing, and when Yana looped her arm around her girlfriend’s waist, her head lolled. She was clearly unconscious, and a tiny bud of panic began to unfurl in Yana’s middle.

  “We have to get back to the ship,” she said. She grabbed the cloaks they’d thrown off and wrapped one around Kor while draping another across her own shoulders. Treze didn’t move, and Yana turned to glare at him.

  “Treze, this is not the time,” she began before she saw the knife sticking out of his throat. His response was nothing but a wet gurgle, and as he fell to the ground Yana blinked stupidly in shock. It was Treze’s knife that the not-quite-dead Duros man had pulled out of his own chest to throw. He lay on the ground grievously injured, but still a threat.

  Without a word Yana leveled the blaster at the Duros and pulled the trigger again and again until the blaster kicked, needing to recharge. Then she dropped it on the ground.

  “Treze?” Yana said, but the Mikkian said nothing, his head trendrils slack and the blood pooling around him and soaking into the tender grass more than enough answer.

  “We need to get out of here,” Yana said. She could hear far-off footsteps, but with the security system under her control, none of the doors would open unless she let them. She couldn’t get the artifact, not that she would even have tried at that point, but she had to get Kor to safety before she lost any more blood.

  Yana turned to leave the Graf compound, Kor’s weight making the walk awkward as she turned them both toward the sentry point. They had taken only a couple of steps outside the compound before Kor awoke, the cold air a slap in the face even the injured Nautolan couldn’t ignore.

  “I’m okay,” Kor said sleepily, but Yana just kept on walking. There was nearly a kilometer between the compound and the Scupper. They would make it.

  Yana had to believe that.

  It didn’t take long out in the cold for Yana to realize she and Kor were in a bad sort of way. The temperature had dropped even further, so the cloaks didn’t provide much protection. The wind had kicked up again, the icy fury of it slicing right through the fabric with frigid knives. Kor’s blood had already soaked through her robes, so the chill dampness of it also marred Yana’s robes, freezing and causing the material to twist and gape oddly. Yana tried not to think, tried not to give into the panic scratching at her. But when Kor fell for the second time, refusing to get up off the ice, Yana could no longer avoid the reality of their situation.

  “Kor. You have to get up. It’s just a little farther.” It wasn’t true. Yana didn’t have any idea where Sunshine was. He wasn’t where they’d left him, and there was no outline of a ship anywhere on the horizon. Yana could sense the damage the cold was doing to her body. Evereni weren’t fragile by any means, but the cloaks were no match for the weather on Thelj. Especially now that the wind had come up. She’d tried to contact Sunshine on her comlink, but there was nothing but static.

  Somebody told them, Treze had said.

  Kor gripped Yana just as the ground began to rumble. At first Yana thought it was a groundquake, but when she looked down, she realized that the dark shadows of the whales under the ice had amassed once more, this time in greater number than before. The rumbling came again, and the ice nearby cracked, the sound startlingly loud despite the howling wind.

  Yana swallowed fear. “Kor, if we don’t move, we’re going to be lunch.”

  “You should’ve asked.”

  Yana blinked, and for a long moment she thought perhaps Kor was dreaming. But that liquid gaze was on her, even if Kor’s face was pinched with pain.

  “What?”

  “You should’ve asked. Me to go. I would’ve said yes.”

  Yana reeled as if struck. “But your mom. And the Path. And your dad. I couldn’t ask you to leave everything you love.”

  “I love you…more,” Kor said. Her head lolled to the side, and hot tears burned Yana’s eyes. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d cried, but it had been a long time.

  “Kor?” Yana said, voice low. Her mind knew that Kor was gone. There was something wrong in the way her body felt, but Yana shook her anyway. “Get up, Kor! We have to get moving.”

  But there was no response.

  The whales beneath the ice slammed into the barrier once more, harder than before. Yana was knocked off balance, and myriad cracks erupted around her. She had to move.

  For a moment she debated taking Kor’s body with her, taking her home to Dalna. But another strike against the ice was all Yana needed to realize that if she didn’t move, they would both be devoured by the creatures beneath.

  She gave Kor one last kiss and laced a head tress around her fingers. “Your father was right. You were too good for me.” And then Yana hardened her heart and set out across the ice toward the rendezvous point.

  She’d gone only a few steps when the ice fractured, sending her running. There was a panicked moment when Yana thought she’d fall in, but it held, and she was soon on steadier footing. A glance over her shoulder revealed dark shapes scuttling across the ice, pulling at Kor’s body, dragging it into the hole the creatures had made.

  A gift freely given, Yana thought bitterly.

  Yana ran. The exercise warmed her some, and when she saw the Scupper, the embers of her rage flared into flames. The information broker wasn’t where he was supposed to be, and when Yana rapped on the side of the ship to be let in, she was greeted by the man holding a blaster level at her chest.

  “I didn’t think you’d make it,” he said. “The Mother doesn’t make mistakes.”

  “The Mother,” Yana said coldly.

  “I don’t want no trouble,” he said, his pale face sweaty despite the frigid air. He didn’t seem surprised to see Yana alone, and that confirmed it. This had been a setup.

  “What did she tell you to do?”

  “Bring you here.”

  “What else?” Yana growled.

  Sunshine hesitated.

  “You do know that I could kill you before you even pull the trigger, right?” Yana said. It wasn’t true, but the Evereni had a reputation in the galaxy. And as an information broker, Sunshine had definitely heard stories of the brutality of her people. He hesitated. She leaned in. “Even if you do pull the trigger, I’ll have your intestines for bracelets.”

  “What do you want?” the prospector asked, trying to glare.

  “She sent us here to die.” Yana took two long, deep breaths, staring at Sunshine. “You called them, didn’t you? Alerted the Grafs?”

  “I do what she tells me.”

  Yana bared her sharp teeth. “Why shouldn’t I destroy you right where you stand and let your skin freeze to candy for those ice whales?”

  “I’ll take you back to Dalna,” he said, stepping back, keeping the blaster on her. “You can settle it out with Elecia. But you need to ride in the head. I won’t have you slitting my throat while we’re in hyperspace.”

  Yana would do no such thing, because she didn’t know how to fly the ship. But she nodded, letting her fury and grief put a deadly sparkle in her eyes. Elecia, he’d called the Mother. She’d say that name, too, right before she tore out the Mother’s throat.

  Sunshine walked her to the refresher and locked her in. The sudden change in temperature sent her body into a fight of spasms. She hugged her knees and listened to the sounds of the ship lifting off, and nursed the flickering flame of her hatred.

  The Mother would pay. Yana would make sure.

  It was late morning, and both Dalnan suns beat down on Kevmo as he whirled in one of his favorite lightsaber forms. Master Zallah actually smiled as she stepped in to meet his lightsaber with hers. The cool blue and vivid yellow hummed together. Kevmo felt the Force all around him, pulsing through him with his quickening heartbeat.

  He was so at peace in the physical activity and living Force, he easily sensed when Lady Jara and her neighbor, a Trandoshan woman in the process of regenerating her left arm, were joined by a third presence. A nonhostile, welcome presence. It didn’t rock Kevmo at all as he gradually realized he knew her.

  Master Zallah shifted tactics to quickly end the session, and Kevmo ducked around, laughing as his feet landed perfectly despite the rough gravel left in Lady Jara’s yard from the flood. He panted as he shut off his lightsaber and bowed to her with it clasped in his hands. Master Zallah returned the bow, not smiling, but satisfaction blazed in her cool lilac eyes.

  They’d both stripped down to undershirts and trousers, but unlike Kevmo, who sweated like an Alderaanian pine boar, Master Zallah didn’t even look flushed. Maybe it was her people in general, but more likely she was simply better at regulating her body’s reactions through the Force. Kevmo looked forward to the day he could do that—if he ever managed it.

  Kevmo returned his lightsaber to the holster on his belt and turned to their audience. Lady Jara was listening while pretending to turn up her nose at Marda’s gentle questioning of the Trandoshan’s injury. When Jara realized the Jedi had finished, she stood up. “Impressive show. I’ll miss seeing it when you’re gone. But not as much as we’ll miss your Force muscles.”

  Zallah nodded in acknowledgment, but Kevmo winced a little, worried about Marda’s reaction.

  But the Evereni stood gracefully, without displaying any emotion toward Lady Jara. Marda turned to them and opened her hands palms up, then bowed to Master Zallah. “Master Jedi,” she said with soft formality. Her black hair gleamed in the sunlight, and Kevmo felt a traitorous urge to slide his fingers through it. He quashed it quickly.

  Master Zallah said, “Marda, what can we do for you? We have not yet been able to fix our skiff and have no departure date as yet.”

  Kevmo had been right that Master Zallah wouldn’t mind giving Marda and her cousin a lift to Port Haileap—assuming they’d completed their task first and the Path members still wanted to associate with them. And assuming Kevmo could keep himself and his emotions in line. He’d assured her he was definitely capable of that.

  “Thank you,” Marda said. “That is what I wished to speak of. I appreciate the offer to travel with you, but I must decline. I am not to leave Dalna quite yet.”

  “Marda,” Kevmo said, surprised. She’d been so sure and giddy about it. Now she was almost like a different person.

  But when she finally looked at him, a smile spread across her face, bright enough her sharp teeth flashed. “I’ll see you again, Kevmo. And thank you, too, for…being a challenge.”

  Kevmo’s mouth fell open in a hot wave of surprise and indignation. He did not glance at his master to discover if she was amused. “Um,” he said, “you’re welcome?”

  Marda stepped nearer. “I needed it. I’ll never approve of how Jedi use the Force, or agree with your ways. But speaking with you and spending time with you helped me find a clarity I didn’t have before. And you saved the lives of people I care about.” Marda lowered her voice. “That will always matter to me.”

  He swallowed, unsure what to say, how to tell her she mattered to him, too, but they couldn’t, he couldn’t…

  Master Zallah clearly noticed his struggle but only dryly said, “We’ll leave you to your farewells,” before ushering Lady Jara and the Trandoshan away. This was her Padawan’s problem that he’d made for himself. Kevmo knew that; he just hadn’t expected to have to do anything about it…quite yet.

  Marda didn’t seem to notice them leave at all, her starry black eyes on only Kevmo. When they were alone, Kevmo said, “Are you really all right? You were so excited to be leaving.”

  “The Mother reminded me to be patient.” Marda glanced away, finally a sign she was less at peace with this than she pretended. “I have not given up, but it may take longer, and I don’t want you to be waiting for us.”

  “It will still be a few days, at least,” he admitted.

  “Yana is due back today, but I don’t know if she’ll be willing to be patient at my side. Probably not.”

  Kevmo nodded. He put his hand behind his back before he could reach to touch her. Then it struck him, and he asked, “The Mother told you that? She’s on world, not with your cousin? Or on her ship?”

  “Yes. I spoke with her yesterday afternoon. She should be with us through the Children’s return, at least. She is often here to greet them.”

  “I’m sorry I never got to meet her,” Kevmo said, hoping for more information.

  “It is strange,” Marda admitted. “But the Force must have kept her away from you for its own reasons.”

  Kevmo just bet it had. Master Zallah and he had talked that out, too, and were pretty sure the Mother had to be someone they’d recognize or could easily sense something about. Why else avoid them? But if she was in the commune and the Children were due back this afternoon…maybe they should make their move tonight. He wished he could warn Marda. No matter what the Path was involved in, Marda was a true believer. She’d never willingly participate in smuggling, surely.

  Unless…she believed it was what the Force wanted. If someone she had faith in convinced her. Kevmo knew this Mother could do it, so he couldn’t say anything. Only hope Marda remained out of the crossfire.

  The thought made him feel terrible, and he took her hand. “I—thank you, too, Marda. I have liked challenging you.” He tacked on his best grin. “I hope we get to do it again someday soon—on Jedha, maybe.”

  “Yes,” Marda gushed. Her gaze flicked away and then back, and she tilted her head shyly. “And…I would also like to kiss you again.”

  Kevmo sucked in a too-fast breath.

  Marda laughed. It lit her up until she was so beautiful, Kevmo wanted to give her anything—everything—she wanted.

  Putting her hand on his chest, she leaned closer. Kevmo cupped her elbows again and gently held her back. Marda blinked, surprised but he hoped not offended. Kevmo said, “I can’t. It isn’t something we do.”

  “Kissing?” Marda lifted her brow. “Jedi don’t…kiss?”

  It did sound stupid when she put it that way. He let go of her, grasping at air as he tried to explain. “Relationships like that, or any, really…they’re distractions. We don’t want to be bound to anything but the Force, and the Temple.”

  Marda hummed thoughtfully. “That’s so sad,” she murmured.

  “Sad?”

  “The Force is life, and life is all about relationships and creation. Don’t you have family, or home?”

  “But if we attach ourselves to one thing over others, that doesn’t leave us room for focusing on justice and light, or to devote ourselves entirely to the Force. We do have relationships. They just must be…” Kevmo struggled to remember anything directly from a lesson he could tell her.

  “Secondary?”

  “If even. Careful, I suppose. Part of our service to the Force.”

  Marda nodded. “You’ll never have children?”

  “Marda.” Kevmo laughed nervously. “That sounds like something a grandsire would say.”

  With a grin, she reached up and pinched his cheek. “That you’re too handsome not to pass it on?”

  He leaned a little into her touch and felt his smile soften. He liked her so much.

  Marda flattened her hand to his cheek. “Friends, then?”

  “Yes,” he said, a little too ferociously. Her eyes widened. He ached to beg her to promise she’d still want to be his friend the next day. After she found out the truth they were sure to reveal about the Mother and her cult.