The Captive Temple(25)

Obi-Wan gathered the Force to him and dove off the top of the falls.

He landed clear of the rocks, and pushed himself upward through the cool water. He swam quickly to the bank and vaulted out onto the grass. He felt for Bruck’s vital signs.

Bruck was dead. Obi-Wan guessed that he had died instantly. His neck was broken.

He did not have time to wonder how he felt about that. There was Bant to save. Obi-Wan felt in the interior pocket of Bruck’s tunic, hoping to find a key to unlock Bant’s chains. Surely Xanatos had given Bruck the means to free Bant as well as let her die.

His fingers closed around a small durasteel square with holes drilled into it. It had to be the key.

Taking a deep breath, he dove into the pool. He swam down toward Bant. He grabbed the chain and fitted the durasteel square into the lock. The chain fell free.

Obi-Wan scooped up Bant and hugged her to his chest. She felt as insubstantial as a handful of snow.

He exploded above the water, gulping air, and

swam to the bank. He waded out and carefully lay Bant on the grass.

Her eyes fluttered open. “Breathe,” he urged.

She took a ragged breath, then another. Color began to return to her cheeks.

Obi-Wan laid his head against the top of hers. He kept his arm around her. His warm tears mingled with the cold moisture on her skin.

“I’m so sorry,” he told her. “I’m so sorry. This was my fault.”

Bant coughed. “Don’t,” she said.

Don’t what? Hold her?

“No … need,” she forced out.

Things were not resolved between them. There was so much he needed to say. But he could not leave Qui-Gon to fight Xanatos alone any longer.

“I have to help Qui-Gon,” he said. “Will you be all right?”

Bant’s breathing was easier, and her nod was strong. “I’m fine. Go. You’re his Padawan. He needs you.”

Qui-Gon moved fast. He leaped out the broken window after Xanatos. He knew the same thing Xanatos did - that outside, a narrow ledge ran underneath the windows.

He used the Force to propel his leap and guide him to the ledge. Xanatos was already moving away from him. Qui-Gon guessed he was heading around to the south, where the landing platform was, fifteen stories below.

Qui-Gon could see the spires and towers of Coruscant. Airspeeders and air transports buzzed above and below him. An air taxi sailed by. One of its passengers looked out, then did a double take when he saw the two men on the ledge hundreds of kilometers in the air.

The wind was powerful up there, rising in gusts that were strong enough to make Qui-Gon stagger. He hung onto the sill above his head until a gust passed, then pressed on.

Xanatos was moving quickly, but Qui-Gon knew he could catch up to him.

Xanatos looked back and grinned. The wind whipped his black hair, and his blazing blue eyes looked deranged. The wind was dying down. Qui-Gon moved quickly, almost running.

He caught up to Xanatos before they were above the landing platform. He could not let Xanatos move much farther in that direction.

Qui-Gon activated his lightsaber and attacked. This was the moment. This was his stand. He would kill Xanatos here. Not from anger. From the certainty that this evil had to be stopped.

They fought with concentrated ferocity, each blow designed to cause the other to stagger and fall. Balance was tricky on the narrow ledge. Wide blows could only come from one side. Follow-through was difficult. Still Qui-Gon adapted his style to fit the area. He used short jabs, sometimes falling on one knee to come at Xanatos from below. He felt the Force swirl around him, strong and sure, aiding his instincts, telling him where Xanatos would move next and how. He blocked each blow and came back stronger. He sensed that Xanatos was on the edge of desperation, though his former apprentice would never let him see it.

“Haven’t you forgotten something, Qui-Gon?” Xanatos called to him over the screaming wind.

“The last part of that takeover equation. Devastation.”

“You must be tiring, Xanatos,” Qui-Gon said. “That’s when you begin your taunts.” He gritted his teeth as he slammed a blow toward Xanatos’ shoulder.

Xanatos blocked it. “Your precious Temple is doomed!” he shouted. “When that idiot Miro Daroon powers up the last link in the system, the whole fusion furnace will blow. The Temple will implode. Did you really think I’d allow the Jedi to follow me?”

Qui-Gon staggered both from surprise and an unexpected short strike from Xanatos’ left. Was he telling the truth? Desperately, Qui-Gon realized there was no way for him to know.

He attacked furiously, delivering a wide arm sweep from the left. The two lightsabers tangled. For an instant, their faces were very close. Xanatos’ eyes burned with a strange light. The pale half-circle scar on his cheek gleamed.