“The dead talk, Ben, “Shevu said. “They bear witness.”
“Yes, “said Ben. “They do.”
BEVIIN-VASUR FARM. OUTSIDE KELDABE
Dr. Beluine gave Sintas another shot of tranquilizer and checked her pulse. This time, she didn’t lash out.
“I wouldn’t usually administer this, “he said, “but she’ll injure herself knocking into things if she isn’t sedated.”
Fett saw the open maw of the sarlacc a split second be-fore he plunged into the lightless, hopeless pit of acid. Thanks, Solo. “They do say.”
“Stop talking about me as if I’m dead, “Sintas snapped. “Everything’s so loud. Where am I? Why can’t I see?”
She looked dazed now, but it was an improvement on stumbling around the room. She sounded sane enough, too, but sanity was a fragile thing and Fett knew the odds. It was fifty-fifty that she’d ever be completely normal again. He didn’t know where to start explaining, and even Mirta, who usually had all the smart answers, erred on the side of extreme caution. Sintas sat on the bed, hugging her knees, blind gaze wandering unsteadily between voices.
How did you tell a woman she’d been frozen down for thirty-odd years, and that while she was busy being unconscious, her daughter had gone after her ex-husband, bent on deadly revenge, and then that daughter had been picked up by the secret police and tortured to death, and that she had a granddaughter, and…. Fett had rehearsed it in his mind. Stang. It sounded just as bad now as it had three months ago: worse, maybe.
If she remembered that all on her own, it was going to be bad enough.
Medrit, to his credit, did what Beviin would have done had he not been out chasing another potential problem. He saved his Mand’alor from embarrassment and handled the diplomacy.
“You’re Sintas Vel, “Medrit said quietly. She seemed very sensitive to noise. It was just as well she was blind, though. Had she seen Medrit-a pillar of muscle with a frown that announced his short temper-she wouldn’t have felt reassured. “You’ve been encased in carbonite for a while. You know what that is?”
“Of course I do.”
“Okay, you’re in Keldabe, on Mandalore. I’m Medrit Vasur. This is my farm, and you can stay here until you’re well enough to leave. What’s the last thing you can remember?”
Sintas stared straight ahead, sightless. She kept rubbing her eyes in evident frustration, sedated or not. “Where’s my necklace?”
“Can you remember a necklace, madam?” Beluine asked.
“I had a necklace. Where is it?”
Beluine turned to Fett. “Did she?”
“Yes, “Fett said. “She did.”
“It’s very encouraging that she recalls it.”
Fett looked at Mirta. Their eyes locked and she reached inside her collar to take off the heart-of-fire, or at least the half of it that wasn’t buried with Ailyn. He’d given it to Sintas as a marriage gift when they were both too young to know any better, but that wasn’t what made his gut tighten now. Sintas was from Kiffu. The gem-one of the rarer gold ones, shot with inner light in a rainbow of colors-was said to hold part of the soul of the giver and the receiver. Kiffar could sense the memories stored in the stones as if it were a data crystal, but with the added layer-the added unasked-for complications, Fett thought-of the emotional elements. Even if she was crazy or blind, that stone might just speak to Sintas and jog her memory far too fast for his liking. He was a man who said only what he had to say, which wasn’t usually a great deal, but this was different.
Who am I more worried about-Sintas, or Mirta? Neither woman had the full picture of the mess their family was-yet.
Beluine, who didn’t impress Fett half as much as the local farm vet who’d treated him, made a valiant attempt to earn his fee. He pulled up a chair beside the bed and spoke to Sintas in his best bedside manner. “Do you recall being in carbonite, my dear? Were you conscious?”
Sintas jerked her head as she heard the med droid enter. “Nothing. I don’t remember a thing. And you can keep that droid away from me, too.”
Mirta dangled the heart-of-fire from its leather cord wrapped around her forefinger. She gave Fett a meaningful look-now or never, Ba’buir-and approached Sintas cautiously.
“Here’s your necklace, “she said. She wrapped her grandmother’s hand around the stone, folding her fingers gently. “I kept it safe for you. My name’s Mirta Gev. We never met, but I’m… a relative of yours.”
Sintas froze for a moment, almost massaging the heart-of-fire in her hand, gaze fixed. “It’s…. not the way I remember it.”