Chapter XXIV – Interlude and Answers

Rage. Pain. Despair.

I was still on fire, every square centimeter of my flesh. It hurt to move, even to breathe. Every breath was like inhaling acid, searing my lungs. There was no pain in my arms or legs, but that was no mercy. The horrible sensation of nothingness where those limbs should have been was worse than the pain.

"Lord Vader."

The voice penetrated the confining helmet, warped hopelessly but coherent enough to understand. I wanted to scream that no, that wasn't my name, but it hurt too badly to take in enough breath to reply. I wanted to reach up and tear away this mask, to free myself from this hideous prison, but my arms were restrained, as were my legs…

"Can you hear me?"

I forced my blistered eyelids open. The image before my eyes was distorted, weirdly tinted… holographic, I realized with a shudder. Had every sense been dulled by the inferno?

I struggled to breathe in, to gather adequate breath for an answer.

"Yes, master." Stars, was that my voice? I sounded like something out of Hell. Perhaps it was a mercy that talking was difficult for me…

But I could not remain silent. There was something I had to know…

"Where is Padme?" Every word was torture to my scorched lips and charred lungs. "Is she safe? Is she all right?"

Silence, leaden and cold. That alone should have told me that all was not well… but his words were still a cruel blow.

"It seems, in your anger… you killed her."

Killed… killed my Padme… killed the woman I love… no, it couldn't be… how could I have done such a thing… it was impossible… it was IMPOSSIBLE…

"I… I couldn't have… She was alive! I felt it!"

Rage. Pain. Despair. The three companions that were joined forever to me that terrible day. I felt them swamp me the moment I learned the terrible truth – that I had sold my soul for naught, that I had lost the only one I ever cared for… no, not just lost, but destroyed with my own hands! They encircled me, knew my mind and heart, and they laughed hysterically at my anguish.

I could not strike them, could not crush them, could not wound them, so my fury turned elsewhere. Blood showered my armor and the durasteel floor as the transfusion device crumpled beneath my blow. Droids shattered. Tables shuddered. The very air roared. Something within me cried out for release, for blood, for justice…

I staggered forward, awkward on my prosthetic legs, new agony shooting into the stumps as they took my weight. I welcomed it, a distraction from the far greater pain. With all my heart I wished that I had died on Mustafar and not suffered this pain…

I knew, at that moment, that Anakin Skywalker was dead. I had killed him with Padme. Only Darth Vader remained, only this broken husk of a man beholden to a sadistic tyrant. I was the slave of the Sith, bound to his side by my own hand, and I could only scream in agony.

Rage. Pain. Despair. My masters, my chains, my tormentors from this moment onward.

Something died within me that terrible day, something that never came back to life.

Break…

I awoke from my nightmare, sweat stinging my eyes, my spine a cold pillar of fear. It was only a dream, only a dream… the Emperor was dead, he could hurt me no more…

The chill touch of a medical table met my back, and for a terrifying moment I wondered if I had awakened from one nightmare into another. But this was not the dark, bleak chamber in the Emperor's palace, but a softly lit, strangely comforting room with gray walls and little in the way of machinery. My mask was gone, and in its place a respiration tube snaked down my throat – the sole piece of modern medical equipment I was able to see. There was a faint, pleasant smell in the air that counteracted the medicinal stench of the respirator, something I could not quite place but seemed familiar anyhow. My limbs felt heavy, almost paralyzed…

But something was very alive in my chest, coiled tightly beneath my ribs and waiting, waiting…

I closed my eyes, the flood of memory only serving to further weary me. What had I done?

Voices drifted into the room from the next chamber – Luke, who sounded anxious, and the Shadow's youthful, slightly hoarse voice attempting to calm him.

"I don't see why I can't go see him!" Luke insisted.

"He must have time to recover," the Shadow replied. "One cannot expect to fight off an entire Yuuzhan Vong task force and come away unscathed."

"You're a sorceress! Why can't you heal him?"

"Because the healing arts are not my strong point. I can close small wounds and cure minor illnesses, perhaps knit a broken bone or dispel the effects of a concussion, but not much beyond that. It vexed my master to no end…" A soft chuckle. "But don't worry. He will be fine. He has always been a fighter."

Luke hesitated before going on. "What happened to him anyhow?"

"When the Vong stabbed him, the blade nicked a major artery. When your father continued to fight the creatures, it got his heart going faster, which in turn pumped more blood out of the wound, and eventually the loss overcame…"

"Not that." He spoke in a tone a frightened child might use. "I meant… well… the other thing…"

Great. Just great. He thought I was a monster. I destroyed the Vong and saved his life, but in the process forever lost him. The power of the dragon proved to be a double-edged blade once again.

"Your father's dragon blood came into play," she replied. "When he saw you in danger, he drew on that legacy and its power to aid you. While the Force could not touch the Yuuzhan Vong, the dragon magic could. While the ring could not repair Jessa's droid body or entirely heal the horrible wounds you and Ash suffered, the combined powers of the unicorn ring and the dragon blood could. It is a great power, terrible to face in a foe… but wonderful to have on your side."

Silence. I dreaded Luke's reply.

"Shadow… will that ever happen to me?"

"No. It will not. Your mother was human. And while your father's father is dragon, your father's mother is also human. You have enough dragon blood in your veins to grant you greater sensitivity to the Force, but not enough to give you access to the dragon magic."

Was that a sigh of relief from my son, or had I imagined it? "When he wakes up… what will happen?"

"Many things. Would you be more specific?"

"Well… now that he's used the dragon power… will it have changed him at all?"

"Now there's an interesting question. We'll have to wait and see…"

Their voices drifted away, leaving me with much to think about. First and foremost on my mind was great relief that, whatever havoc the power of the dragon chose to wreak upon me, my son would be spared. Second was fear – fear of facing the others again. They had seen me become a monster. Would they accept me among them again? Had my actions dissolved the fellowship permanently?

The circle was complete. Just like that terrible night over twenty years ago, I had awakened in a medical chamber, still afire with a great power, realizing that I could never go back. Everything had changed then… and everything had changed again now. Just as the young Jedi Knight Anakin Skywalker had irrevocably become the Sith Apprentice Lord Darth Vader then, now Lord Darth Vader had become, once and for all, the Son of the Dragon.

But there were differences, it seemed. Then I had felt the deepest anguish, the fullest realization of the Hell I had subjected myself to. Now… now I did not know what to feel. There was little pain aside from the fear that I had alienated my son. Indeed, the Rage, Pain, and Despair of then were absent now.

Hooves moved upon the floor, and the mysterious smell – incense? – grew stronger.

"Good heavens, you're awake already?" The Ky-Lin's garishly colored face was a blur before my eyes. "I thought I had given you enough to put an army to sleep! This won't do, you need your rest, your body needs it to create more blood, especially after you wore yourself out throwing around huge amounts of power yesterday…"

Something stung the wet tissues of my mouth and throat, as if the respiration tube had become contaminated with sand…

When I next awakened, it was to discover my mask once again fitted over my face. I attempted to sit up and found that, while I was still fairly weak, at least a portion of my strength had returned. While it would be awhile before I could endure great physical activity, at least I could stand and walk…

"Good morning, Anakin!"

"You devious beast," I retorted, glaring at the doorway where the Ky-Lin stood. "You slipped something into the respirator…"

"Sleepy Dust," he replied cheerily. "Ky-Lins are adept at producing the stuff. It's powerful and should only be used sparingly, of course… But I digress. Now that you're on your feet, will you accompany me?"

What else could I do? The Ky-Lin and I walked, side by side, out of the chamber, across the living area of the Shadow's home, and into the arboretum.

The other six members of the company awaited us, sprawled out in various stages of repose, almost as if we had never left here, almost as if we had not just spent months on a convoluted sojourn throughout the galaxy but had been here the entire time. Ash was drowsing on a low tree branch, head beneath one wing, and Jessa lay stretched out on a limb of the same tree like a reclining panther, one arm hanging lazily down and the other pillowing her head. Tuck sat with his back to the tree trunk and his knees pulled up to his chest, stripping bark from a stick with methodical care. Fett and Luke had unconsciously assumed identical poses on the ground – lying full-length upon their backs in the grass with their arms folded beneath their heads, the only difference being that Luke appeared to be awake while Fett snored raucously. Nightwind lay with his legs tucked beneath his body, panting gently. No one said anything or looked at me strangely, as I had expected…

"Yo, Darth," Jessa announced, raising her head slightly.

I tensed involuntarily. "What is it?"

"Settle a bet for us, will ya?"

"What sort of bet?" I replied cautiously.

"Was Emperor Palpatine Darth Sidious?"

The relief was almost painful in its intensity. "Yes. Darth Sidious used the name of Palpatine to take the galaxy."

"Told you," Jessa sighed, laying her head back down.

"But it doesn't make sense," complained Tuck, tossing his peeled stick aside. "Palpatine was fighting against the Sith. How could he be one if he was fighting alongside the Jedi? And here's another question – if Palpatine was a Sith, how could the Jedi not have known…"

"Why d'you think the Jedi tried to do Palps in right before the Purges?" Jessa shot back. "Don't mess with me on this one, pal, this argument was fought plenty of times on my homeworld before the third movie came out…"

Luke rolled his eyes. "They've been at this all morning, Father. I thought you coming in and answering the question would end it…"

"I can only state facts," I replied. "I cannot change their mindsets against their wills."

Luke smiled. "I'm glad you're up and about, Father. You had us all worried."

I did not know what to say next.

"Come now, Anakin," the Ky-Lin urged. "The Shadow awaits you."

Luke nodded. "Go on, Father. We can talk later."

There was no fear in his face or voice, no disgust. I had not lost him after all.

The Ky-Lin led me deeper into the gardens, he leaping from stone to log to bare earth to avoid trampling the grass, I opting for a straight course. All the while I mentally reviewed what I wanted to discuss with the Shadow. Why had she never divulged her own past to us, why had she not found out what had happened to my mother when she had the means…

Abruptly the Ky-Lin halted. "You are to meet her here." And with that, he vanished down a side path.

I stepped into the clearing, an area roughly the size of a conference chamber and ringed with stately trees, the floor layered in moss and short dense grass. Almost like an arena, I thought at once, though why that similarity sprang so quickly to my mind I could only guess.

"Son of the dragon."

The Shadow stepped noiselessly from the trees. The robes of our last meeting were absent – instead, she wore a gray tunic, loose trousers, and metallic silver boots and gloves, all similar to the dueling garb of the Jedi Knights of the old Order. Her face remained veiled, and the chain belt still encircled her waist, though now in addition to the daggers a sword hung at her hip. Every move, every step, was executed with great care, like a stalking beast, and her eyes…

Before, they had seemed to be the eyes of a wild animal. Now, the animal was about to pounce.

In a flash of gray, a dagger seemed to jump from her waist and into her hand. She held the weapon point-first and hurled it in my direction. The second dagger followed, an instant behind.

This time there was no binding the power, no holding it back. It sprang to life, coursing through my veins like my lifeblood. The slightest pulse of power shattered the blades in midair, scattering fragments of steel upon the ground.

The Shadow drew her sword, the blade's edge singing against the sheath. "Draw thy weapon, son of the dragon, and do battle."

I ignited my saber, the blue blade thrumming with power – not just the energy of the power cell, but with the strength that flowed down my arms and into the weapon.

The Shadow lunged, and our blades screamed as they slammed into each other, fountaining blue and silver sparks in a brilliant nova. With a snarl of exertion she struck again, and again I blocked the slash. Over and over sword and lightsaber met, tangled, ground into each other, flashed and spun in complex maneuvers like a carefully choreographed dance. The dragon within roared with each successfully blocked blow, hissed with each strike of my own that was countered. The eyes of the Shadow burned into my own, alive as never before with the thrill of battle.

At last, I brought my weapon up to block a strike, but so much force was behind both blades that I nearly lost my grip on my saber. The Shadow was not so lucky – the sword's blade snapped in two, and the broken section of blade spun wildly through the air and slashed her arm open before jabbing into the ground point-first and sticking there.

The Shadow dropped the useless hilt. "Enough, young one." The wildness in her eyes dimmed. "Enough."

With great effort I reined in the power, stuffing it back where it belonged. It went reluctantly, and I wondered how many times I could use the power before it escaped my control entirely.

"Well done," she praised. "Well done indeed. You have learned to harness your father's birthright as well as your mother's." She bent down and retrieved the broken pieces of her weapon. "Though it cost me my best sword… lightsaber-resistant metal is growing scarcer by the century, you know…"

"You're wounded," I told her. "Let me heal your injury."

"I'm not entirely helpless," she retorted, placing the hand of her good arm over the bloodstained sleeve. "I can manage small wounds like this." She closed her eyes, murmured something in a strange tongue, and pulled her hand away to reveal a newly healed scar.

"The ring would have left no scar," I pointed out.

"Sometimes we need scars," she replied. "To remind us of our follies – or, in this case, as mementos of battles well fought."

I realized my saber was still active, and I withdrew the blade and clipped it to my belt again. "There is much I need to discuss with you, Shadow."

"Indeed there is," she replied, folding her arms before her chest. "First of all…"

"Wait a minute," I cut in. "Before you speak, there is something I must know…"

"First of all…" she began again, as if I had never spoken.

"Shadow, hear me out!"

"Don't interrupt her again," the Ky-Lin advised amusedly, emerging from his hiding place behind a chakroot bush. "She'll repeat herself all day and drive you bonkers."

I kept silent, though part of me resented not being able to voice my issues…

"First of all," the Shadow went on, "I did not tell you my father was the man responsible for your father's exile and, possibly, your mother's death because it was none of your business. I have already had words with the Ky-Lin regarding his loose lips." She glowered at the creature, who laid his ears back but otherwise did not move. "My ancestry is not important, nor does it make me as selfish and conniving as my father. You, of all people, should know not to judge a person by the sins of their father."

I flinched. Sharp words, but true.

"Second, I did not scry the fate of your mother because, frankly, it was none of my business, not any more than the identity of my father is your business. I don't make it my business to pry into the lives of others any more than I have to. The only reason I read Summer-Talitha's journal was as a safeguard, in the event that the record was destroyed and you had to learn of your heritage by word of mouth. Anything beyond that, I figured, you could learn for yourself, from your own research."

Again, true. Not that it made me happy…

"And finally – and most importantly – the power of the dragon is NOT connected to the dark side of the Force. The Force and the dragon magic are two distinct, separate powers. And while the dragon magic can make it easier to touch the Force, or while the two powers can work side by side in an individual, using the dragon power does NOT make you a dark-side wielder in any way."

"Then why, in the past, was I only able to touch the dragon power when I was in the throes of the dark side?" I countered.

"Because there is something about the dragon power that links it quite closely to emotion. The Jedi, unfortunately, all but wiped the concept of emotion from their Order, and had you been inducted into the Order as a baby, like most Jedi, you would never have had the opportunity to touch the power of the dragon. You would not have known love, or grief, or anger, or fear… and the dragon power would have lain dormant for a long time, perhaps until your death.

"But unlike most of the Jedi, you were familiar with such feelings, and when the Jedi tried unsuccessfully to stifle these emotions in you, it only made them all the more potent when they finally burst to the surface. Contrary to the Jedi's beliefs, it is not emotion that is evil – it is letting it grow too strong to control, or finding an inappropriate outlet for it. And when you drew on the dark side, a power accessed through anger and fear, you drew on the power of the dragon at the same time, albeit inadvertently."

Her strange pale eyes met mine. "But when you overthrew the Emperor, when you faced down the Vong, you acted not out of hatred or anger or fear, but out of love for your son. The dark side cannot tolerate the presence of love. In that case, the power of the dragon acted alone." Her eyes rested on my hand, and the corners of her eyes wrinkled as if she were smiling. "With a little prodding from the ring, of course." Once again she locked eyes with me. "Now, there was something you wanted to say?"

I shook my head. "You already answered my questions."

"I thought so." She extended a hand. "Walk with me a ways?"

"Do I have a choice?"

She laughed, a sound like water over stones in a stream. "You always have a choice, son of the dragon. Of course, the privilege of choice comes with the responsibility of facing the consequences."

"And what consequences will I face if I choose not to go with you?"

She shrugged. "You never know until you choose."

I shook my head, this time from exasperation, and followed her. She was a strange creature, albeit one to whom I owed my life – and so much more.

I had never realized just how large these gardens were until now. Our entire stroll must have taken an hour or longer, and in all that time I doubt we got halfway across the great transparisteel greenhouse. I wondered why she kept such a facility, if it served a practical purpose or if it was merely for pleasure.

"How did you get to Vaal?" I asked. "And how did you know exactly when we would finish our quest?"

"I am wherever I am needed," she replied cryptically. "Remember, my two strong powers are of Scrying… and of Space-Manipulation."

"You demonstrated Scrying. What exactly is Space-Manipulation?"

"Exactly as the name implies, it is the art of altering space to suit your needs. A distance of many light years can be compressed to a step, or an object on one world can be transported to a world on the other side of the galaxy with little or no effort. That is how I was able to come to Corellia when your party first needed me… and how I was able to get to Vaal, the end of your journey, and await your arrival. I didn't quite expect you to practically pass out on my doorstep from loss of blood, of course…"

"Was our entire journey really necessary? It seems to me like we spent months on end simply running around the galaxy…"

"'Just running around the galaxy,' he calls it," she murmured. "Ah, young one, it was every bit as necessary as your first journey to find me. It drew the seven of you together, it helped you grow and learn, and it encouraged you to work together and act as a whole. Did you notice that, by the end of the journey, you had no need to translate Nightwind's speech for the others? Did you notice that, by the time you reached Vaal, the seven of you were one, as my old friend Logray said?"

"But Jessa nearly left us…"

"She was tempted, yes, but in the end she remained with you. That is all that matters."

"We were very nearly killed several times. Any one of us could have perished before we returned to you…"

"As long as you were bound by the ring, none of you could have died. It watched over you and kept you safe." She laughed again. "If you must still be convinced of the worth of your travels, simply look at what you accomplished. You saved two young lovers and overthrew a tyrannical governor on Kruvex, you destroyed a vicious monster on Tatooine, you rediscovered a priceless monument and defeated a pack of griffons on Mandalore, you routed the Imperials on Wayland, you spared an Ewok village from the savagery of the taozin, you softened the heart of a powerful warlord… and you quite probably saved the galaxy."

That last came as a shock. "What?"

"The Yuuzhan Vong were poised to invade the galaxy, simply waiting for the civil war to weaken the Republic or Empire sufficiently for an invasion to succeed. The battalion you faced on Vaal was a scout team, sent to observe the state of affairs and ascertain whether or not the time was right for attack. One of their weaknesses, however, is that they are deeply religious, and tend to see their gods' hands in everything. And when you slaughtered their best warriors and overthrew the battalion single-handedly, they took it as a sign from their war god, a sign to let this galaxy alone."

I could only stare at her. I had known the Vong to be brutal foes, but a threat to the entire galaxy…

"Jessa can tell you more of that than I," she went on. "She is familiar with their culture."

"My stars…"

"No one can say you have not repaid your crimes now, young one. Not when your actions spared trillions from a bloody death." She shook her head disdainfully. "Not that they will ever know that, of course. Or would even care if they did know. Mortals are so surprisingly negative."

"Do you blame us?" I replied. "Our lives are filled with pain and misery, and all we have to look forward to for our troubles is death – perhaps Heaven or Hell if we happen to be religious. You, on the other hand, are immortal…"

"And still subject to the pain and misery of mortals," she countered. "And unlike mortals, we haven't the relief of death on the horizon – unless we choose to end our lives by our own hands, an option even most mortals loathe. Immortality does not necessarily mean we are free from the troubles of the galaxy. On the contrary, we can look forward to a greater measure of them than mortals can comprehend."

Silence as we continued walking. Somewhere I heard Nightwind's barking roar, Luke's laughter, Jessa's voice engaged in song once again, subtle reminders that we were not alone here.

"Why do you wear a mask?" I asked at last.

She gazed at me. "Why do YOU wear a mask?"

I froze, not expecting this.

"Don't worry about answering yet," she replied. "After all, you asked me first." She brushed the fabric over her mouth with her fingertips. "I was born on Jessa's homeworld, in what is called the Middle East, and there it is the custom for women to cover their heads and, in some areas, their faces. Though I ran away at a young age to join the sorcerers, I still keep that custom."

"Why? You are a sorceress, no longer part of that world…"

"Simply because I have chosen the path of magic does not mean I must forget my beginnings," she replied, gazing at me thoughtfully. "Nor are you required to forget your past as Anakin Skywalker, or even as Darth Vader, simply because your life has changed."

I nodded, conceding that point.

"Now," she continued, "answer my question. Why do you wear a mask?"

I closed my eyes. "When I fought my Jedi Master… I was seriously wounded. I lost my remaining organic limbs… and when I slid into the lava, I caught fire. The flames burned me beyond repair. My lungs received the brunt of the damage." I reached up and touched the air intake vent of my mask. "The Emperor installed the mask. It has kept me alive all these years, many times quite against my will. I can never remove it."

She stared at my mask a long time, eyes inexplicably sorrowful. Then she lowered her head to regard the ground at her feet. "Yet another strand in the web of lies the Sith used to ensnare you. The treacherous pig, how could I have ever struck a bargain…"

"You mean I never needed the mask?"

"In the beginning, you most certainly did. You were in such hideous shape that, were it not for the mask and armor, you would have died a cruel death. But the human body, while it has its shortcomings, is incredibly resilient. And lung tissue is known for its regenerative properties. Given time and the right therapies, you could have been free of the armor within a few years, mask and all."

Stunned, I placed both hands against my helmet. Was she saying that I had worn this horrible parody of a face for nothing all this time?

"But don't even think of removing it now," she ordered, as if reading my mind. "The machines have done all the work for your body for years now. The muscles that were meant to work your lungs have atrophied. Scar tissue has built around the mechanical workings. You are truly dependant on the mask and armor to survive now. The Emperor meant to keep you enslaved – your soul to his whims, your body to his technology. He intended to keep his dragon tethered as closely as possible, even if it meant settling for a crippled servant."

I lowered my hands. I should have felt anger at this, hatred toward Palpatine for betraying me yet again. But the fury would not come. It was as if the portion of my heart devoted to hatred had burned itself out. I had no anger to spare for a dead man.

"Will I ever be whole, Shadow?"

She paused, choosing her words carefully. "Over the past months you have learned the limits of the ring's powers. You should know by now that its power is insufficient to entirely heal you. The power of the dragon is less familiar to you, but I will tell you now that it, too, is not enough." Her eyes met mine, seeming almost to glow as she imparted her wisdom. "If you wish to be made whole, son of the dragon, it will take a power greater than mine… and it will mean making a promise you cannot renege."

I could only wonder at the meaning of that, as she was not forthcoming with any more information.

"What happens now?" I asked.

"You and your friends have learned much on this journey. But I sense you are in need of a little more wisdom before you can find your places in the galaxy."

"Another quest?"

"Don't sound so miserable, young one. No, not a quest per se. Just a little… growing experience."

Break…

I found out what the Shadow meant by "growing experience" the next day, when she gathered the seven of us – eight with the Ky-Lin – in yet another clearing in the gardens, this one strewn with lichen-crusted boulders. She gestured for us to seat ourselves, though she remained standing before us like a priestess about to deliver a sermon to her adherents. At her feet, arranged in a semicircle, were the artifacts we had gathered on our quests – Tyra's emerald, the Great Red's claw, the mythosaur axe, the homemade medal, the winged headdress, the crystal brooch, and the Vong knife.

"And so your adventures have come to an end for now," she noted. "You have all grown since we last met, learned much and loved much. And yet… I sense you have lost your way."

"What do you mean?" demanded Fett.

"Well, now that you have returned to me, do you still want your desires granted? Do you still have your futures planned out?"

"Yes… wait, no… maybe…" Jessa stammered.

"I had thought… but…" Luke said unsurely.

"My way is clear," Ash replied. "Unless…"

Nightwind's plaintive howl nearly ruptured our eardrums even as it echoed all our thoughts. "I don't know anymore!"

The Shadow gave a sharp nod. "Just as I thought."

"You knew this would happen, didn't you?" asked Tuck. His voice was not accusatory in the least, simply questioning.

She did not answer him but took a step back and raised her arms in an all-encompassing gesture. "I think that, before you can go any farther into your future, every one of you needs some sort of closure to your past." She brought her hands before her, fingertips steepled. "I need total silence for this spell…"

The air trembled with energy. Everything danced and shimmered before my eyes, and I had to close them or risk illness at the sight. The ground vibrated beneath me. Around me, the others shifted uncomfortably but made no sound.

At last the unsettling powers ceased movement, and I dared open my eyes again.

"Nothing happened," said Nightwind, sounding disappointed.

"Wrong, Nightwind," the Shadow replied, lowering her hands to her sides. "Space-Manipulation. I could not send you to where you needed to go – we hadn't the time, and besides, some of the places you needed to go were not accessible by normal means. So I brought some of those places closer."

"What do you mean?" asked Luke.

She gestured to a gap between two xekkwood trees directly across the meadow from her. "Ash and Luke, your path lies in that direction. You will find a diversion in the Force there, one that will allow you contact with certain… immortals. That includes a couple of Jedi whom I suspect Luke will want to have words with, hmm?"

Luke gave her a bewildered look.

"Well, go on," she urged. "Return when you feel you have learned what you need to."

Wordlessly Luke rose, and Ash flapped up to perch on his shoulder. Together, they departed from view.

"Nightwind and Jessa, there." The Shadow pointed to her left, where a stream meandered from view. "Those you call family await you."

The two of them stared apprehensively in the direction the sorceress indicated. Then Jessa squared back her shoulder joints, Nightwind held his head high, and they followed the creek deeper into the trees.

"Fett and Tuck, take that path." She gestured to her right, over a scrabble of boulders and through some thick scrub. "To the city you both called home once."

The two men rose and, without a word, climbed the rocks and were gone.

"Son of the dragon." She faced me now, eyes solemn. "Your path is perhaps the hardest of all."

"Which way?" I asked.

"Up the Blue Mountain." She stepped aside, and a path I had not noticed until now was revealed to my view. "The Ky-Lin will guide you as far as he is able."

I gazed into the distance. Where I should have seen the transparisteel wall of the arboretum, the grim silhouette of a slate mountain was visible.

"What is up there?" I asked, though I had a feeling I already knew the answer.

"The Master of Many Treasures," she replied. "Your father, Jasper."