“Does it hurt very badly?” Tahiri asked as she gently touched the side of his tattered jumpsuit. Anakin smiled at his friend.
“Not too bad,” he replied. “It’s not important. What matters is figuring out how we’re going to find your tribe. We’ve crossed the Dune Sea and the Wastes, but we don’t have enough water to survive much longer. And we only have two days left to fulfill the promise.” Tahiri stared at her friend. He looked terrible.
His skin was deep pink. His eyes were ringed with purple circles. The gashes on his side were infected. He needed medical attention and food. Something sparkled in the distance and caught Tahiri’s eye.
“Wait here,” Tahiri called to her friend as she trotted off.
“Where are you going?” Anakin asked.
But if Tahiri heard him, she didn’t reply. Ten minutes later Tahiri stood before the sparkling object she’d spied in the distance. It was a hubba gourd, a tough-skinned melon covered with tiny reflective crystals. She picked it up and returned to her friend.
“What is it?” Anakin asked when Tahiri tossed him the oblong melon.
“It’s a kind of fruit,” Tahiri explained. “Hard to digest, but it’s food.” Tahiri pulled her multitool out of her pocket and began to carve up the melon. She and Anakin ate slowly. When they were done, Tahiri took the hubba rinds and placed them over the gashes on Anakin’s ribs.
“Raider medicine?” Anakin asked with a wry smile.
“Sliven taught me that the rind of the hubba gourd helps stop infections,” Tahiri said. “Your cuts are already infected, but this might slow it down.” Tahiri tore some material off the sleeves of Anakin’s jumpsuit and bound the rinds to his rib cage. Then she sat down to consider their options.
What we need is a bantha, Tahiri thought. That wasn’t exactly right. What they needed was her bantha, Bangor. Bangor would be able to lead them back to the tribe.
“Which way?” Anakin asked, interrupting Tahiri’s thoughts. Tahiri scanned the horizon. Sand dunes everywhere and no sign of her tribe. They could be just over the next dune or a hundred kilometers from where they now stood.
“I’ve always felt a deep bond with Bangor,” Tahiri said.
Anakin stared at his friend, wondering why she was talking about her bantha. Tahiri continued,
“I believe that banthas are more complicated than my people know. Bangor has always been able to sense my fears.”
“A lot of creatures have the ability to sense fear,” Anakin interrupted.
“It’s not just that,” Tahiri replied. “There were times in my life when I needed Bangor-if I was sad or lonely, he always came to me. It was as if he heard me calling him for comfort.”
“Are you saying what I think you’re saying?” Anakin asked.
“Yes,” Tahiri said, meeting his eyes. “I’m going to try to call Bangor to us. We’re almost out of food and water, and we’re definitely out of strength,” she added gravely. “If we don’t get to the tribe soon, we’ll die out here.”
Anakin stared at the horizon. The suns were beginning to drop, and soon night would come. Their sixth night. They had only one more day to find the tribe. If they failed, for whatever reason, Sliven would be put to death.
“Tahiri, it’s not working,” Anakin said softly almost two hours later. Tahiri didn’t reply. “We should start walking again,” Anakin gently suggested. He stared at his friend. The strips of cloth she’d torn from the bottom of her jumpsuit and used to cover her head were crusted with sweat and sand. Hollow green eyes stared up at him. But he didn’t have an answer.
Suddenly Tahiri’s listless eyes flashed.
“Let me try to call Bangor again,” Tahiri said. “You try too, Anakin,” she instructed. “Maybe he’ll hear our voices calling if we work together.”
Anakin nodded. He didn’t have the heart to deny Tahiri’s request. Together they reached over the rolling dunes with their voices and called the bantha with the Force. They stood back to back, calling Bangor over and over again. Finally, they sat down in the sands, leaning against each other for support.
“Maybe we should sleep and then try again in a bit,” Tahiri murmured, her eyes already closed. Anakin huddled next to Tahiri as the night blanketed them with its cold threads. His last thought before sleep carried him away was that when he awoke it would be day seven.
“Quit it,” Tahiri mumbled as a dry nose nudged her. Then her eyes shot open. Bangor stood above her, his brown eyes staring kindly down at his friend. From his neck dangled a thick rope that was frayed at the end. The bantha had broken his line to come to their rescue. Tahiri struggled up and hugged the bantha as he snuggled his head against her shoulder.