Path of Deceit, page 12
Water, ever so slowly pushing up from some deeper passage into the caverns.
The Path lands were flooding.
Kevmo cleared the dejarik board and sighed. Outside, the rains pounded the landscape ceaselessly, and the deluge had forced him and Zallah to halt their investigation for the moment. The public officials in Ferdan who had been so eager to meet with the Jedi and discuss the possibility of an outpost had canceled in light of the rain. It was apparently a planetary phenomenon that occurred only once every few months: three days of relentless rain followed by a blooming season when everything would suddenly ripen and need to be quickly harvested. Kevmo found it fascinating that a planet could keep such a finicky, unpredictable rhythm, but Zallah had waved away his fascination.
“There is a way to predict the rains. The people of this planet just don’t have the data yet. One day, they will know to the minute when the rains will fall and stop, and then they will become very lucrative farmers. Nothing in the galaxy is left to chance, Padawan,” she’d said while sipping her morning tea. “The Force balances and guides all.”
Kevmo wasn’t so sure, but instead of arguing he’d just ducked his head.
Kevmo didn’t think everything in the galaxy was so predictable. Weren’t the Jedi always talking about the mysteries of the Force? There were still surprises, delights delivered by the Force for the living to enjoy, and Kevmo disliked when Zallah spoke as if she had seen everything. It just wasn’t true. The Force provided endless amusements, some expected but most not, if one just paid attention.
Gifts freely given, he thought, and then silently laughed at himself. Was he really beginning to consider that the teachings of the Path might have merit?
Absolutely not. He was a Jedi, and he knew the Force. But there was something nice about giving of oneself without the expectation of something in return. It was, at its heart, the hallmark of the Jedi.
“Another round?” Kevmo asked, and Zallah nodded. Lady Jara had retired to her bed, the chill damp making her old bones ache. The Jedi were quite self-sufficient, and since they were the only ones left in the rooming house, it made sense for the woman to have a day to herself. Zallah had thought a day of quiet contemplation in the common area was a good idea, at least until they figured out what their next move was.
There was a knocking at the door to the rooming house, and Kevmo stood from the table where he sat and went to answer it. He was delighted and surprised to find Marda waiting on the threshold, her robes soaked, water running in rivulets from her dark hair and over the blue-gray of her skin.
The Force truly did like to surprise and delight.
“Marda!” Kevmo said, standing back from the door to let the girl in. She ducked her head as she entered.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t think the rains would remain so heavy,” she gasped as she entered.
“Is there a problem?” Kevmo asked, since he could easily sense Marda’s unease.
She shook her head. “No, I was speaking with the Mother this morning, and she urged me to continue to learn from you. And I brought you these,” Marda said, thrusting out a handful of tightly curled red-and-blue ferns. “As they dry they will whisper, and it can be useful in meditation.”
“Kevmo, find the girl some dry clothes to change into,” Zallah said with a frown.
“Oh, sure, right,” he said, taking the ferns Marda held and dashing off to find some towels. He returned with a pile of towels and a robe.
“Thank you,” Marda said, accepting the towels but refusing the robe. “I wouldn’t want to drip on your furniture, but the water is a gift. Even if too much of one at the moment.”
Kevmo grinned but tempered the expression when Zallah gave him a sidelong glance. “What did you want to discuss?” he said. “The Jedi are always happy to have conversations about the many interpretations of the Force.”
Marda looked at her hands and laughed. “Now that I am here, I realize how silly it must look for me to dash out into the rain for such a conversation,” she said, shaking her head. “I should have waited until the rains ceased.”
“Sometimes our passions can get the better of us,” Zallah said, her tone mild even though her words held a faint censure.
“But the Force can also direct us through our passions,” Kevmo said, feeling the need to defend Marda. Zallah’s lavender gaze settled on him, the Soikan waiting for Kevmo to finish his thought before she responded, and Kevmo hurried to finish the statement in a way that would not sound contradictory but complimentary to the Jedi beliefs Zallah referenced. “By understanding our strongest emotions and the way they drive us forward, we can analyze our moves and discover the best course of action rather than behaving impulsively. So it’s not about eschewing emotions, but about understanding where they come from and addressing the underlying issue before acting.”
Zallah nodded in approval, but when Kevmo glanced over at Marda, the hurt etched into her features gave him pause. “Marda?”
“Yes, I can see how being impulsive could be considered a bad thing. But sometimes there are opportunities that evaporate if we don’t seize them when we can.”
Kevmo opened his mouth to argue, to say he didn’t see her as impulsive even though walking into town in the rain was impulsive, but another knock on the door interrupted him before he could speak.
Zallah gave Kevmo a look, and he yanked the door open. There was a very soaked pale-skinned human woman on the other side of the door, her umbrella struggling to keep the water off of her.
“You a Jedi?” she said, straightforward in the way so many of the settlers were. There was nothing remarkable about the boots, trousers, and overcoat she wore, but there was something about the set of her spine that made Kevmo think this blond woman was used to people listening to her.
“Yes, I’m Padawan Kevmo Zink. Come in and you can speak with my master, Jedi Knight Zallah Macri,” he said, stepping back from the door once more to let someone in. But the human woman was dressed for the weather, unlike Marda. When she closed her umbrella, she put her hand on her hip and looked to Zallah.
“Your ship will have to be moved,” she said.
“And who are you?” Zallah asked, voice smooth.
“Jinx Pickwick. I’m what passes for an authority in this place. You can call me sheriff or safety officer or whatever, but I was elected to keep everyone here in the basin safe. The docking yards are in the lowest part of the basin, and in about a quarter of an hour your ship is going to be underwater.”
Marda shot to her feet, her face twisted with concern. “The basin is flooding?”
Jinx gave a short nod. “It seems that this storm is larger than usual, already stretching all the way to the Maawat Juncture. Something happened upriver at the base of the Ashrow volcano, and at this rate Ferdan is going to be a meter underwater. We’re trying to redirect the rains, but the ground is already so soaked it’s pretty much a lost cause.”
“Perhaps we can be of help,” Zallah said, standing.
“I wouldn’t say no, Jedi,” Jinx said with a smile. “Right now we’re trying to use a few ground movers to shore up the riverbanks.”
“I have to go,” Marda said, hurrying toward the door, so clearly distraught that her worry slammed into Kevmo like a wave.
“Wait, it’s not safe,” he said.
“If the basin is flooding, the caves back at the compound will surely be taking on water. The Littles and Elders stay down there, as well as the new parents. They’re going to need help evacuating.”
“Kevmo,” Zallah said, “go with Marda and assist the Path in making sure their members get to safety. I will assist here in town.”
“But what about the ship?” Kevmo asked. There wouldn’t be time to power up and move the ship and also run back to the Path compound. Kevmo had been in a flood before and knew how quickly waters could rise.
“People over things, always,” Zallah said.
She pushed past Kevmo and Marda and followed Jinx out into the downpour while Kevmo squared his shoulders and turned back to Marda.
“We should run.”
Marda nodded, still not meeting his gaze, but Kevmo wasn’t worried. This was not the time for such things. They had people to save.
And then they were out in the rain, running toward the Path compound. Kevmo only hoped that the Force would not call anyone home before he could save them.
Rain slashed at Marda’s face, cold and hard, and she pushed into it, wiping brikal-shell blue out of her eyes as the rain melted it down her brow. She focused on speed, though mud made her boots slip. Kevmo caught her elbow and didn’t let go. That was fine; she couldn’t be anything but grateful for his help, even if he was right: she was impulsive. She shouldn’t have rushed off to Ferdan and abandoned her family to this rain. What if someone drowned and she could have saved them if she’d been there? She shouldn’t have left!
But Kevmo’s hand on her elbow steadied her. She leaned in to him, and together they broke through the rain. They jogged in the middle of the road where the water was lowest, splashing pink-brown mud. It wasn’t long before Marda was wetter than she’d ever been, even in a bath. She could hardly catch her breath. They’d lived in the caves for over a hundred years, and the basin had never flooded like this! Or they’d have known at least to be ready, to not keep babies down there!
Why didn’t the Force reveal this to the Mother so she could prepare them? Did the Force want them to die? Was everything Marda believed wrong? Was this simply living in harmony with the Force? The Force was life, and it should want its believers alive. A mere few days earlier, she wouldn’t even be questioning this, but somehow her arguments with the Jedi were even getting to her. Or perhaps it was merely the building panic.
The previous year there’d been a rockslide at the foot of the Ashrow volcano, and the ground had trembled with steam and stinking gases. Could that have changed something about the river itself or the way water flowed through the basin? Would this happen every summer now? Would they have to abandon the caves? Leave Dalna entirely? Marda knew the Gaze Electric was supposed to be their sanctuary in the stars, but Dalna would remain their home. What if it could no longer be so? What would they do? Would they lose this home, just like her people had lost their homeworld? Maybe it was Marda’s fault, her Evereni fate ruining the future of the Path because she was part of it!
“Marda!” Kevmo practically had to yell for her attention. His breath was warm on her ear as he tugged her to a standstill. She looked at him, blinking frantically against the rain. “Stop panicking. We’re nearly there. Your people had some warning!”
Marda tried to suck in a deep breath, but it shook.
Kevmo released her elbow, and she nearly cried out, but he found her hand with his and enclosed her fingers with warmth. He leaned in. “I’ve got you,” he said, staring directly into her eyes. Even through the whipping gray wind she could see the flecks of gold around his pupils. Like the promise of sunlight. It would be all right.
Gritting her teeth, Marda nodded. “Let’s go!” she yelled back. Then she turned, and they ran again.
By the time they skidded through the gate, she could see figures moving from all areas of the compound, burdened by goods and possessions, heading toward the storage barn just off the communal garden.
Marda spied Efrik, the middle-aged human from the outer circle of acolytes. His dark hair was plastered to his skull even under a water-soaked cowl. “Efrik!” she cried, dragging Kevmo toward him.
The human turned, shielding his eyes. Blue smeared down his nose, and in his other hand he held a huge bundle of seed half under his robes. “Marda! Good! We’re gathering in the barn.”
“Are the Littles all there?”
“I saw a group of them. You should come count—you know them best!” Efrik barely glanced up at the Jedi before leading the way toward the storage barn.
Marda and Kevmo followed closely. Just as they arrived, Efrik tugged at the heavy wooden sliding door and the wind slammed at him. His body hit the door, shoving it farther open. Wind and rain shot into the barn, and cries of distress filled Marda’s ears as she darted in. Kevmo released her to help Efrik close the door again.
Scanning the huddled community, Marda looked for her Littles. She saw dozens of familiar faces, all soaked, people moving to create walls of supplies and dry each other off with threadbare towels. Aris Ade and the Herald were organizing a handful of adults to venture back out to place sandbags around doorways and make sure all the doors and windows were secure. Someone else called her name and added her to the head count.
The Littles were huddled with Old Waiden and Mabel Wiss in the rear corner. Marda hurried through the chaos to them and counted them off in her head. Vemian shot to her feet, eyes huge when she saw Marda. Beside her the Klatooinian siblings, Ferali and Eff, hugged each other, and Simi was crying on Hallisara’s lap. She saw Utalir and Jerid tending to three toddlers who weren’t in Marda’s class yet. Jezra’lin blinked their huge Mon Calamari eyes at Marda, vibrating in place.
Marda froze.
She stared at her Littles, then turned and looked throughout the barn. There—over against the wall, Fel Ix was huddled with two of his frilled babies. But Marda couldn’t see Ferize, Er Dal, or the other three newborns.
“Stay here,” Marda commanded Jezra’lin and the others, then picked her way quickly to Fel Ix. The Kessarine glanced up at her, his dark face drawn, his cheek frills tightly curled with tension. “Fel Ix,” she said, “where are your partners and the others?”
“They were behind me,” he murmured, barely moving his mouth as he bounced his babies in both arms. His eyes seemed wider than usual, the pupils dilated nearly to the edges, and Marda’s stomach twisted.
“They were behind you in the caves?”
Fel Ix nodded tightly. “They pushed me out and were gathering the rest. I…could hardly see. But they were right behind me. We are good swimmers.”
Marda whirled, nearly slamming into Kevmo. “Come on,” she said, trying not to sound afraid while surrounded by all these people, and especially Fel Ix. Kevmo nodded, allowing her to lead him back to the door.
“Where are we going?”
“I have to find Ferize and the rest of her family. They live in the caves.”
Kevmo nodded.
Efrik tried to stop them, but Marda said, “It is the will of the Force,” so firmly he jerked the door open.
They dove back into the wild rain.
Even in just a few minutes Marda had forgotten how cold and hard the rain was, plastering her robes to her body. She knew this compound like her own hand and knew how to take Kevmo to the entrance to the caves. Two people rushed past them, and Marda pointed back toward the barn. They touched her as they passed, and Marda did her best to look confident. Then they reached the underground door. Kevmo positioned himself as a windbreak while Marda keyed in her access code, and the door whooshed open.
The roar of water greeted them, along with a buzzing, flickering gray light. Marda took a deep breath, and her hand found Kevmo’s just as he reached for her. Their eyes met, and Marda said, “We’ll help whomever we find, but I’m looking for two Kessarine and their three newborns. We’ll head for the nesting chamber, this way.” Squeezing his hand, Marda pulled him into the flickering darkness.
Enough of the lights drilled into the cavern’s corridors worked that they didn’t need any personal searchlights as they headed down. First it was a slope, then stairs. Marda cut left at the first juncture, putting her hand on the rough granite just under the guide marks. “These guide marks tell you which way you’re going,” she said quickly. “Orange is exit, for the first sun. Pink is the opal route. That’s for meditation, so you wouldn’t normally need that, but the nesting chamber is part of the opal route.” Marda pulled Kevmo on as she talked. “Blue is the Mother’s rooms, for the Force. This is a network of channels down here, so there are many possible routes to take, and the guide marks will tell you the quickest from one point to the another.”
They passed through a meditation room, and when they stepped down into the next level, they stepped into centimeters of water. Marda’s skin pebbled in fear. The nesting chamber was lower than this.
She let go of Kevmo to dart forward. “Follow me!”
“I am,” he said, except he’d paused, staring down a narrow corridor as if he could see something that wasn’t there. “What are the black guide marks?”
“Secret ways, but I don’t know how to open them, not yet. That’s for more advanced acolytes and people who work directly with the Mother,” Marda said quickly, uncaring. She knew she was spilling secrets, but all that mattered was getting to Ferize. Besides, she could trust Kevmo. He was there, helping her. Nobody else was at her side.
They burst into the nesting chamber to the sound of hissing and gasps in the Kessarine language, and thigh-high water. It gushed, and Marda fell over. She inhaled water, struggling to her feet as she coughed it up. “Ferize!” she tried to yell, but it came out ragged and wet.
“Marda!”
Her name in two voices: Kevmo’s and Ferize’s.
“I’m here,” she cried, managing to get to her feet despite the pressing, swirling water. It seemed to have risen even in the past moment. It would quickly be to her waist.
No glow of sun opal lit the nesting chamber. There was only the flicker from the corridor, and shadows. “I can’t see anything!” Marda yelled. “Where are you?”
“Near the water basins!” Ferize cried back. “I need help, Marda! Er Dal is trapped behind a rock that fell, and he has Fe Isle and Fe Remine and Fe Tale with him. I can’t get to them!”
Marda moved toward the sound of Ferize’s panicked voice, trying to stay calm. Water shoved at her, and she fought to keep going—though she couldn’t see, she knew the way to the basin. She’d washed birthing fluid off these babies herself only days before.
