But he had stopped himself. What would Obi-Wan have done?
Take a breath and think, Anakin.
So he asked himself why Marit had taken it. She must have known that he would immediately realize that she had it. Did she want to provoke a confrontation? Did she want to see what he would do?
Anakin had decided to wait. Not the easiest course of action for him. Not at all. But he was puzzled and intrigued by Marit, and he wanted her to feel the same. Let Ferus chase after Reymet. Anakin’s instincts told him that there was more to Marit than he knew.
So even though he felt her eyes on him, he didn’t turn. Nor did he acknowledge her when Professor Totem had them break into groups and Marit joined his. He didn’t respond when she tried to catch his eye, even during the most boring stretch of the professor’s lecture.
She would come to him, he knew. After the class, she would find a pretext to talk to him. He was driving her crazy because he had waited her out.
Better to wait to catch your prey than strike too soon.
Obi-Wan had counseled him again and again on the virtue of patience. At last he was beginning to understand why his Master pushed it. It worked. Sometimes.
The class ended. Anakin headed out the wide carved door. He left the hallway and accessed the brushed durasteel doors that led to the courtyard. Even though it was overlooked by windows, it felt removed. It was a gloomy, dark day, and he had it to himself. Students avoided isolated places now. They traveled in pairs or groups and went directly to their classes.
“All right, I give up the battle,” Marit said from behind him.
He turned. “I didn’t know we were in a war.”
She held up the stone. “You know I have this. Don’t you want it back?”
“Yes,” Anakin said. Even in the gloom, the river stone shone, its shiny black surface like a mirror full of reflected light.
“And you didn’t report me.”
“No.”
“This stone is important to you. I can tell. Why?” “It was a gift,” Anakin said.
“From your father?”
Longing burst inside him. He did not have a father. Shmi had been very clear about that. He didn’t understand it, but he accepted it. He did not think about his lack; he never had. But unexpectedly the ache would well up in him and take him by surprise.
Then he thought of Obi-Wan, and the ache went away.
“Yes,” he said. “Are you going to give it back?”
She held it up, fingering it thoughtfully. “I’m not sure yet.”
It would be so easy for him to use the Force to get it back. Instead, Anakin moved. His kick barely grazed her fingertips, but it dislodged the stone and sent it flying straight toward him. He reached up with one hand and caught it.
Marit blinked. She looked down at her hand, still outstretched but now empty. “I didn’t even see you move. How did you do that?”
Anakin slid the stone back into the concealed inside pocket of his tunic. “Lots of practice. Now it’s your turn to answer questions. Why did you take it?”
Her dark eyes glinted. “Because I wanted to see what you would do.”
“A test,” Anakin said. “Did I pass?”
Marit only smiled and changed the subject. “I saw you in the flight simulator the other day. You were pretty good.”
It was the one area where he had not hidden his skill. It was hard for Anakin to sit in a cockpit and not fly fast and expertly. “Thanks.”
“I’d like you to meet some friends of mine. Will you come with me now? It’s our free mod.”
Anakin nodded. Marit may not have answered his question about passing her test, but she didn’t need to. He had passed. The question was, for what purpose?
CHAPTER SEVEN
Obi-Wan stared down at the holofile in front of him. He flipped through the data for what felt like the thousandth time. He couldn’t find the key.
Something had happened the night Gillam disappeared, yet the security record showed that nothing had been breached. Obi-Wan had gone over the report. The best security expert at the Temple, Jedi Knight Alam Syk, had gone over it. Nothing was out of the ordinary. It was as though Gillam had disappeared into thin air.
Obi-Wan had also gone over the short note sent by the kidnappers. It was strange that they had not asked for credits or made any demands. The note seemed more like a delaying tactic than anything else. There was a chance the note could be linked to a particular datapad, but until they had a suspect, they could do nothing with it.
Obi-Wan looked at the security report again. He had the nagging feeling that he was missing something obvious.
His comlink signaled, and he answered it brusquely. “Yes?”
Tyro’s excited voice vibrated through the air. “I’ve got something. I analyzed the data from the past five years of Sauro’s illicit activity - the stuff he’s been caught at, anyway - and ran it through my probabilities program, looking for connections. I narrowed his secret meeting places to three. Then I cross-referenced his schedule and committee meetings, and - “