“I find myself pursuing the memory of my grandfather with increasing frequency.”
Lumiya fondled the strands of the tassels and ran the knots between her thumb and forefinger. She seemed to be reading them.
“You depend on location to flow-walk in time,” she said. “So you can only see what happened to Lord Vader on Coruscant.”
“Is that your way of telling me I need to find out more elsewhere?”
“No, I’m saying that if you look for vindication in the past, it will be at best selective.”
“I feel I’m reliving parts of Anakin Skywalker’s life. I’d be crazy if I didn’t try to learn from that.”
“But you already know that your path differs. He was seduced into errors. You won’t be.”
“All right, let me ask again. What more do I need to learn to fulfill my destiny?”
Lumiya slowly extended her arm and held out the tassels she had been running between her fingers. He reached out and took them. They felt suddenly red-hot, and he tossed them a little in the air out of pure animal instinct, as if he had grabbed a hot breadstick from an oven. When the threads fell back into his hand they were cold.
“This is your final trial, Jacen. You’ve sacrificed a great deal-the approval of all those who meant most to you. You’ve taken extreme measures to deal with those who deny justice. Now you must consider the third prophecy.”
He cradled the knotted tassel in his cupped palms. He will immortalize his love. He’d turned that phrase over in his mind a thousand times. What did it mean? Total duty to the galaxy, and no time for family? Building eternal peace at his own personal cost?
He didn’t know.
“It means, Jacen, that sacrificing your own feelings and reputation isn’t enough.”
Jacen had forced himself over the edge of what he had thought of as decency. He’d done the dirty work, the necessary work, the work that no other Jedi would, because they were too concerned about the vanity of their own reputations and the cleanliness of their own hands, to take on the burdens they placed so willingly on ordinary people.
I did my own dirty work. I faced what Grandfather faced-but I did it for the galaxy, not for my own selfish love of a woman.
Motive mattered. Some philosophers said it didn’t, but in the end motive was all there was to distinguish between good and evil.
“What, then?”
“You have to kill what you love.”
Jacen didn’t quite take in the meaning of that at first. Then panic gripped him.
Tenel Ka. Allana. How did Lumiya know? How could she know? He’d been so careful. He hardly dared even touch them in the Force because he risked alerting Lumiya to their very existence. Every visit he sneaked in was fraught with danger, but he’d been careful, as careful as only he could be.
Jacen concentrated hard and projected a sense of bewilderment to mask the dread and fear churning his stomach, and it took almost all his strength. He picked up the candle from the table and stared into its flame as if distracted by it, using it to focus his control. “You’ll have to explain that.”
“I can’t teach you any more skills. You now have to pass through the final barrier and do what no ordinary man can-kill someone whose death will cause terrible suffering to those who love them, someone close to you.”
“Who?”
“I can’t tell you, because I don’t know.”
“Someone I love?”
“Do you love someone?”
“I allow myself to love many people.” Careful … careful. You’re on the knife-edge. “How will I know who to kill?”
“It’ll become clear when the time is right. You’ll know.”
“And why is it the ultimate test?”
“Because taking the life of an innocent is always harder even than taking your own, if you’re sincere. This is the ultimate test of selflessness-whether you’re ready to face unending emotional pain, true agony, to gain the power to create peace and order for billions of total strangers. That is the sacrifice. To be vilified by others, by people you know and care for, and for your personal sacrifice to be totally unknown to those billions you save, to do your duty as a Sith. To do your duty for the good of the galaxy.” She stood so close to him that her breath made the candle’s flame flicker. “It’s easy to be a clean-cut hero slaying monsters. There’s always a little bit of vanity in it. There can be no room for vanity or pride in being despised.”
It was true, and it was horrible. Courage often needed an audience. True selfless courage, by definition, took place in darkness, unseen.
Jacen held his hand in the flame. He held it there longer than he had ever done before, until he smelled his own flesh charring, and Lumiya reached out and jerked his arm away. He wasn’t sure if he was testing his ability to transcend pain or beginning his own punishment.