They reached the large central building and Mara reached past Luke to slap the sensor plate beside the door. “He’s in the greatroom,” Mara said as the panel slid open in response. “Straight ahead.”
They walked down a long hallway, passing a pair of what seemed to be medium-sized dining and recreation rooms. Ahead, a large door at the end of the hallway slid open at their approach. Mara ushered him inside—
And into a scene straight out of ancient legend.
For a moment Luke just stood in the doorway, staring. The room was large and spacious, its high ceiling translucent and crisscrossed by a webwork of carved rafters. The walls were composed of a dark brown wood, much of it elaborately open-mesh carved, with a deep blue light glowing through the interstices. Other luxuries were scattered sparingly about: a small sculpture here, an unrecognizable alien artifact there. Chairs, couches, and large cushions were arranged in well-separated conversation circles, giving a distinctly relaxed, almost informal air to the place.
But all that was secondary, taken in peripherally or at a later time entirely. For that first astonishing moment Luke’s full attention was fixed solidly on the tree growing through the center of the room.
Not a small tree, either, like the delicate saplings that lined one of the hallways in the Imperial Palace. This one was huge, a meter in diameter at the base, extending from a section of plain dirt floor through the translucent ceiling and far beyond. Thick limbs starting perhaps two meters from the ground stretched their way across the room, some of them nearly touching the walls, almost like arms reaching out to encompass everything in sight.
“Ah; Skywalker,” a voice called from in front of him. With an effort, Luke shifted his gaze downward, to find Karrde sitting comfortably in a chair at the base of the tree. On either side two long-legged quadrupeds crouched, their vaguely doglike muzzles pointing stiffly in Luke’s direction. “Come and join me.”
Swallowing, Luke started toward him. There were stories he remembered from his childhood about fortresses with trees growing up through them. Frightening stories, some of them, full of danger and helplessness and fear.
And in every one of those stories, such fortresses were the home of evil.
“Welcome back to the land of the living,” Karrde said as Luke approached. He picked up a silvery pitcher from the low table at his side, poured a reddish liquid into a pair of cups. “I must apologize for having kept you asleep all this time. But I’m sure you appreciate the special problems involved in making sure a Jedi stays where you’ve put him.”
“Of course,” Luke said, his attention on the two animals beside Karrde’s chair. They were still staring at him with an uncomfortable intensity. “Though if you’d just asked nicely,” he added, “you might have found me quite willing to cooperate.”
A flicker of a smile touched Karrde’s lips. “Perhaps. Perhaps not.” He gestured to the chair across from him. “Please sit down.”
Luke started forward; but as he did so, one of the animals rose up slightly on his haunches, making a strange sort of choked purr. “Easy, Sturm,” Karrde admonished, looking down at the animal. “This man is our guest.”
The creature ignored him, its full attention clearly on Luke. “I don’t think it believes you,” Luke suggested carefully. Even as he spoke, the second animal made the same sort of sound as the first had.
“Perhaps not.” Karrde had a light grip on each of the animals’ collars now and was glancing around the room. “Chin!” he called toward the three men lounging in one of the conversation circles. “Come and take them out, will you?”
“Sure.” A middle-aged man with a Froffli-style haircut got up and trotted over. “Come on, fellows,” he grunted, taking over Karrde’s grip on the collars and leading the animals away. “What hai we go for a walk, hee?”
“My apologies, Skywalker,” Karrde said, frowning slightly as he watched the others go. “They’re usually better behaved than that with guests. Now; please sit down.”
Luke did so, accepting the cup Karrde offered him. Mara stepped past him and took up position next to her chief. Her blaster, Luke noted, was now in a wrist holster on her left forearm, nearly as accessible as it would have been in her hand.
“It’s just a mild stimulant,” Karrde said, nodding to the cup in Luke’s hand. “Something to help you wake up.” He took a drink from his own cup and set it back down on the low table.
Luke took a sip. It tasted all right; and anyway, if Karrde had wanted to drug him, there was hardly any need to stoop to such a childish subterfuge. “Would you mind telling me where my droid is?”