[Junior Jedi Knights] - 03(20)

Luke Skywalker studied the intensity of Anakin’s ice blue eyes. He understood all too well that his nephew and Tahiri were tied together by more than their bond of friendship. They were true Jedi, and someday they would become powerful Jedi Knights. From what Tahiri had told him of their adventures on Tatooine, they were already well on their way. But, he worried that these two Jedi candidates were in the habit of rushing headlong into dangerous situations.

What if they found themselves in one they weren’t ready for?

“Regardless of whether or not Tahiri needed to learn her history, it was foolhardy to risk your lives in the deserts of Tatooine,” Luke Skywalker said softly. He watched Anakin’s face fall, and couldn’t continue his attempt to rein in his nephew. “Still, you used your minds and the Force well.”

So well, Luke thought in amazement, that he could hardly fathom the strength still to be developed in the candidates. Anakin’s face beamed up at his uncle.

“Now get well, or Leia will never forgive me,” Luke instructed. Luke Skywalker sat beside his nephew as he slept. He wondered if the strange feeling of untold danger he’d sensed before sending the children to Tatooine had been a premonition of the promise Tahiri had chosen to keep. Luke closed his eyes and breathed a sigh of relief. At least the children were safe.



He was in the depths of the Palace of the Woolamander. The damp, rotting smell of evil flowed in invisible currents along the crumbling stones. He moved toward the small room, bathed by a sickly sweet smell that oozed around his head, filled his ears, and attempted to enter his mouth. Still, he was calm.

He knew what had to be done. When he reached the room, he walked toward the crystal sphere. The swirling golden sands cast a yellow gleam along his extended arm. He opened his hand and placed his right palm on the surface of the globe. A jolt of pain began at his fingertips and traveled the length of his arm in a white-hot torrent. And then the voices began.

“You will fail,” they called from the darkness. “You will be swallowed by the dark side. Swallowed into the belly of evil, where you will live forever, tortured and twisting in agony. It doesn’t have to be that way, boy,” a single voice said from the darkness.

He recognized it. It was the evil follower of Exar Kun. The being that had haunted his dreams.

“Join us now, and the glory of the dark side will be yours. You already belong to us,” the figure hissed. “You just don’t know it yet.” He let the voice fall from him, until it lay in an oily black pool at his feet. Then he extended his other palm to the globe, and let the now familiar pain cascade through his left arm. This time it did not stop at his shoulder. Instead, it continued to course through his body, wrapping his torso in a vice grip of pain.

“I am coming,” Anakin called out to the children inside the globe through clenched teeth. “I am coming, and nothing can stop me.”

“Anakin?” Tahiri called from the side of his sleeping pad. “Anakin? Are you all right?”

Slowly, Anakin woke. He stared up into the worried eyes of his friend. She looked better. There were still traces of bluish rungs beneath her eyes, and her sunburned face was beginning to peel, but the light was back in hE!r emerald green eyes.

“Are you all right?” Tahiri bubbled. Without waiting for an answer, she continued. “I was so worried. I mean I was pretty sick too, but Master Luke said that you had an infection and a fever. Do you still have one-a fever, I mean?”

Anakin grinned. He hadn’t heard Tahiri’s customary chatter since they’d begun their adventure on Tatooine. It was nice to see that she was back to normal.

“Bantha got your tongue?” Tahiri teased.

“As usual, I was just waiting for the chance to get a word in edgewise,” Anakin replied.

Slowly, he sat up. He felt better, much better. He moved toward the open window and stared out into the jungle. “Are you ready, Tahiri?” he finally asked.

“Yes,” Tahiri replied from behind him.

“Are you?” Anakin nodded.

“Are you certain you are strong enough?” a deep, raspy voice called from the corner of the room.

It was Ikrit. The Jedi Master, his white fur and the stones of the Great Temple strangely blending, scurried from the corner and leapt onto the window ledge. “After all,” he rasped, “this is only one battle of good versus evil. There will be others, if you are not up to the fight.”

Anakin stared into Ikrit’s round, brown eyes. Eyes that told nothing. Eyes that waited passively for their decision.

“There are some battles that have to be fought, regardless of the risks or odds. Light versus dark, good versus evil. Those battles can’t be ignored,”