Chapter Fifteen: "I Know Who You Really Are"

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"It's disgusting," she snarled at her reflection. "And if you say anything about redemption or heroism, Durron, I'll do something drastic."

Kyp Durron was only a sheen in her mirror, but Sanar knew he looked puzzled. "What is disgusting?"

"Not that it's any of your business," Sanar said, crossing her arms over her chest, "but…look at me! I'm some kind of flabby, limp noodle, pasty…creature!" To emphasize her point, she spun around, throwing her arms out. "I used to at least be decent."

Durron studied her, then rolled his eyes. "You're fishing for compliments now, aren't you?"

"I'm a big, shapeless sack," she moaned. "I can't even stretch anymore, I'm so pudgy."

Something rumbled, and Sanar looked up in shock. Was the dead man laughing at her? She fumed. "I can still tell Devnos about Jaina and Zekk, you know! It would be an excellent bargaining tool."

"Sanar," Kyp chuckled, "if you were going to spill the beans to save yourself, you would have left with Cerasy. Besides, you love hating me too to do something that might scare me away."

She perked up. "I can do things to make you leave?"

"Only if there really is no hope of redemption for you." He paused. "Which means that I only go when you do."

She swore and flopped onto her bed. Of course it was too good to be true. "Then I'm back to my old complaint."

"I suppose you want a high energy activity that will take your mind off things? Within your room, and away from Devnos?"

Her hand fell to her stomach as she remembered what had become a regular, painful occurrence lately. "I don't know if I can handle high energy," she admitted almost sullenly. "But away from my brother – obviously."

When she looked up, Durron was rocking on his heels mischievously. She didn't comment on his actions; she had given up on understanding him a long time ago. "I could always train you – as a Jedi, I mean," he offered, grinning.

She laughed out loud before turning her nose on him. "If I wanted to be a hero, I'd want to be trained by someone with a better track record."

"Hey!" he protested indignantly. "I was a six-week apprentice when I last really screwed up. Besides, even if I'm not a good Knight, I'm a great Master. I trained Jaina, after all, and look how she turned out!"

"Oh, that'll convince me," Sanar replied, her voice sticky sweet. "I've always wanted to be the slave of a Sith lord." She blinked, then rethought her wording. "Wait…"

"Technically, you did," Kyp piped in. "Heck, you even managed to convince yourself that you were in love with – "

"Oh, shut up, Durron," she scowled. "Just…shut up. You and Devnos are going to drive me insane."

"Aw, come on," Kyp wheedled. "Admit it: you like me just a little better than Devnos."

"If I did – and I don't," she denied when she saw his eyes light up, "it would only be because you're too dead to try to kill me."

"I could teach you how to fight!" Devnos realized happily. "Then you can keep out of those smack-downs of his, or even have one of your own."

If Durron expected her to be excited about the possibilities, he was disappointed. Sanar's eyes became grim. "Devnos is planning something," she muttered, almost to herself. "He didn't even hit me after Cerasy left and he woke up."

"Cerasy can be scary when she wants to be," Durron said, unconcerned. "If it makes you feel better, for whatever twisted reason, I'm sure he'll be back to normal and hurting you again soon."

"You don't understand," Sanar fretted. "He just…looked at me. And if it wasn't completely parallel universe, I'd swear he asked me if I was okay. And before you say it again, my brother is never afraid."

"It's rather juvenile of you to believe that, don't you think?"

She sat up and stared hard at the ghost. "The last time I saw my brother afraid was when he left to become a 'man', under Rafintair's tutelage. Since then, he's been too hard to care about anything enough to be scared."

Even if Sanar appeared to have forgotten who she was speaking to, Kyp hadn't. He winced. "Everyone is afraid of something."

Sanar didn't reply for a moment. "I think he's…poisoning me," she confessed.

Kyp forced an incredulous laugh. "Don't be ridiculous."

"I've been sick after every meal – without fail," Sanar argued. "I'm losing energy fast."

"There are such things as viruses, you know. It's entirely possible that – "

"No. This is different. He's poisoning me. I know it."

"So that's why you stopped eating?" he mused, eyeing her worriedly. "You know, if you keep this up, he won't even need to look for a suitable poison. Oh, and which are you – starving or pudgy? I mean, I think you look magnificent, but…"

She scowled. "I was starting to forget about that."

"Eating would help your memory."

"All the more reason to keep at it," she retorted.

Kyp's gaze swept over her appraisingly. She was still pretty, but her cheeks were beginning to hollow, and everything about her screamed that she was worn down. "I wouldn't advise you to continue that thought pattern," he said thickly.

She smirked. "Reverse psychology might work better on me, considering who you are." Almost immediately, her smile died and she fell back, her face ashen.

Kyp reached out to her before reality crashed in around him again. She would never accept his comfort, even if he could touch her. "Don't you think," he said instead, "that Devnos would have stopped the poison by now?" She didn't respond, only pulled her knees up against her chest. "Please, Sanar. Don't do this to yourself."

You'll kill yourself if this continues. Don't. You have so much waiting…

He would never know the reason for Sanar's startled eyes – not if she could help it. He made all the difference in the galaxy.

Kyp Durron, her father's murderer, could never understand something like that.

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Sanar had always been frustratingly stubborn, but never more so than when she got the bizarre idea that he would ever poison her. When she had first declared the reasons for her fast, Devnos had laughed. It was absurd – even more so than her childhood fascination with the – well. Devnos didn't even want to think about that. It was all too priceless.

Besides, there were particular…forces…that Devnos wanted to keep in the dark as much as possible. It simply wouldn't do to bring certain things – Sanar, for example – to anyone's attention.

Not that it would matter much if Sanar never ate again!

"Sanar Klis," he thundered through her door, "I am not trying to poison you!" It was not, perhaps, the most reassuring speech, but she had never listened to anything other than passion.

Damn it! Why did she have to be so impossible? One would think she was out to ruin his life.

The door swung open, revealing Sanar's wan but fierce visage. "How, after all we've been through, can you expect me to trust anything you say?"

Devnos gritted his teeth. He would bear with her foolishness, if only because she seemed set on making him tick. "You're still sick. Any poison I use would have stopped by now." A thought struck him, and he eyed her wearily. "What if you're pregnant?"

She glared. "There are so many problems with that suggestion, I won't even get started."

The dark-haired man rolled his eyes and hid his relief. "What is it going to take for you to end your fast?"

"It's only been two weeks," she retorted cheekily. "I'm not being bargained out of something that isn't yet dangerous."

His breath came out in a hiss, and he grabbed a hunk of bread off her tray, which he held in one hand. Tearing a piece out, he quickly ate it. "See? No poison." When she continued to stare at him, he shoved the tray into her arms. "You won't get any water until you've finished this."

Why do you even pretend to care? I know you don't, and you can't make me believe you do! Not again! The words, spiteful and wounded, were screamed into his head until his mind rang with her accusations.

Devnos kept walking.

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It looked innocent enough: a now ripped but thick piece of bread, a little meat, and some juri fruit. The Strings and the Force were both quiet. The bread, at least, was probably safe – Devnos' grab had been random.

But what if he kept the antidote nearby? What if he had built up his immune system? What if the poison was more lethal than the last time? What if this one was meant to be so powerful that she would never even need the promised water?

Sanar protested indifference about her survival, but taking death when it came and willingly swallowing her fatality were two very different things. But if she didn't have water… The only way she could even possibly survive was if she asked Durron for help.

Her pride or her life? It was a difficult choice…

Sanar's hand reached out for the food. As if in a dream, she began to eat.

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Devnos rolled his eyes, still chuckling at Sanar's folly as he sat at his desk. When his gaze fell on his men's reports, Devnos' forehead crinkled in quiet amazement, his laughter fading into the background. It was almost incomprehensible to him that Na'Lein'yhpaon was still out for Sanar's head. He had expected Rafintair and the priests to leave well enough alone after Onyx's intervention. She was off their planet, wasn't she? She had been pardoned, hadn't she?

But they had only let Sanar go when threatened with the destruction of their regime – something of which Devnos was all too aware.

Well, Devnos had enough honour to keep an eye on her. Sanar would be less than useless to anyone if she was dead, after all. And besides, no matter how much he tried to deny it, she was his sister. That had meant something, once.

Give her up.

Devnos swallowed and cursed himself in the deepest, most secret part of himself. When, when, when would he learn? He needed to keep control over his thoughts!

The priests would make it easy on her. She would remain proud, arrogant. I can do so much better than death or employment.

Did you not hear what I said? Turn her away.

No.

Pain exploded in his mind, as if IT had blown his brain to pieces. His screams, as always, never left his mouth.

Send her to us!

No.

YES!

Never.

Everything went black.

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Devnos sighed and sat down behind his desk. He was suddenly too tired to laugh at the niftyax's suspicions, but no matter. His amusement would keep.

When his gaze fell on his men's reports, Devnos' forehead crinkled in detached amusement. It was almost incomprehensible to him that there were still so many bounty hunters and assassins looking for the niftyax with which he had been saddled. He was becoming annoyed by their determination. Well, he had enough honour to –

The buzzing, scraping feeling started in his mind, and Devnos froze.

Bz. Bz. Bzzzz…Vrr…ick…Click.

Maybe, Devnos thought frantically, he should take her in and keep the bounty for himself. It wasn't as if the arrogant niftyax mattered, after all – Devnos chuckled at the thought! No, she was only a woman, after all – weak, unimportant, just like his ties to the rest of his foolish, rebellious family…

That's right.

Devnos' hands blindly brushed the datapads to the side, and he grabbed the list of bounty hunters Falat had made.

Don't think. Don't feel, he reminded himself.

When his numbed eyes managed to pick up on the changeling assassin's gender, he only thought, Good. She is expendable.

It was a safe thought.

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You're too important for anyone
There's something wrong with everything you see
But I, I know who you really are
You're the one who cries when you're alone
Where will you go
With no one left to save you from yourself
You can't escape
You can't escape
- Where Will You Go by Evanescence

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-Tjz