As the late-afternoon sunlight slanted through the thick branches, a distant glint caught Lowbacca’s eye. He wondered what it could be. It was not the color of any vegetation or temple ruins. The light reflected from a shiny and evenly shaped object stuck partway up a tree. Lowie leaned forward, as if that could help him see more clearly. He wished he had brought a pair of macrobinoculars.
Curiosity and wonder struck a spark of excitement in him. He wanted to get closer, but caution intervened. It was getting dark. And after all, if the object was important, wouldn’t someone have seen it long ago? Perhaps not. He doubted it could be seen from the jungle floor, and it was unlikely that many students came out and climbed to the top of the canopy, this far away from the Great Temple. He was almost certain that no one knew about this discovery.
Heart pounding, Lowie made a mental note of the shiny object’s location. He would come back the very first chance he got—he had to find out what it was.
7
“I wonder why Lowie never made it to evening meal,” Jacen said. Jaina and Tenel Ka sat next to him in the grand audience chamber, where Luke Skywalker had summoned them all for a special announcement. Dusk light shone like burning metal through the narrow windows overhead, but the clean white glowpanels dispelled shadows in the large, echoing room.
“Maybe he was having too much fun flying his T-23,” Jaina whispered. “I probably wouldn’t have made it back either.”
“Perhaps,” Tenel Ka said in a low voice, as if giving the matter serious consideration, “he was not hungry.”
Jacen flashed her a look of disbelief. “Hey, a Wookiee not hungry? Hah! And you say I make dumb jokes.”
Tenel Ka shrugged. “It is a thought.”
“Okay, well,” Jacen said, “I’m not kidding now—what if something went wrong with the skyhopper? What if Lowie crashed in the jungle?”
“Impossible,” Jaina replied. Though she whispered, her tone was clearly firm. “I checked all those systems myself.”
Tenel Ka’s eyebrows raised a fraction. “Ah. Ah-hah. So because you checked them, the systems could not malfunction?” She nodded, and Jacen could have sworn that he saw the shadow of a smile lurking at the corners of her lips.
“Never mind—there’s Lowie,” Jacen said with relief, waving his arms to attract their Wookiee friend’s attention.
“See?” Jaina said smugly. “Told you nothing could happen.”
Jacen pretended not to notice. “You’re just in time,” he said as the Wookiee joined them. “Master Skywalker should be here anytime now.”
No one really knew why this special twilight meeting had been called, but it was fairly unusual. Everyone who lived, worked, or trained at the Jedi academy had arrived, filling the chamber with a hushed excitement.
Jacen whispered, “Where were you, Lowie?”
Lowbacca responded in a low rumble, quieter than any Jacen had ever heard a Wookiee use. Without warning, Em Teedee announced in a clear metallic voice, “Master Lowbacca wishes it known that he had a most successful expedition and—” The translator droid cut off in midsentence as Lowbacca clamped a ginger-furred hand over the droid’s mouth speaker.
“Shhh!” Jaina hissed.
“Can’t you turn it down?” Jacen whispered.
Curious eyes turned to stare at them from every section of the grand audience chamber. Lowbacca hunched down in his seat with a chagrined look that needed no interpreter. He craned his neck forward to stare at the droid clipped to his webbed belt. He issued a series of soft, sharp mutters.
“Oh! Oh, dear me,” Em Teedee replied in an enthusiastic though much quieter voice. “I do beg your pardon. I did not fully comprehend that you didn’t intend to share your discovery with everyone present.”
“Discovery?” Jacen said. “What did you—”
But Master Skywalker chose that moment to make his entrance. A hush fell over the crowd, putting an end to all hope of Jacen satisfying his curiosity before the meeting began. Luke mounted the steps to the wide raised platform, closely followed by a slender woman with flowing silvery-white hair and huge opalescent eyes.
“Thank you for gathering here on such short notice,” Luke began. “I received news this morning of a pressing matter that call me away.”
As if from a pebble tossed into a pond, a series of surprised murmurs rippled through the room. Jacen wondered if his uncle’s imminent departure had anything to do with the messages brought by his father on the Falcon.
The blue eyes that looked out over the audience—kind eyes that seemed wise beyond their years—gave no hint of what the Jedi Master’s mission might be.
“I don’t know how long I will be gone, so I’ve asked one of my former students, the Jedi Tionne”—he gestured to the slender, shimmering-eyed woman beside him—“to supervise your training while I’m away. Not only does Tionne know my teachings almost as well as I do, but she has a rich knowledge of Jedi lore and history. As you are about to find out, she’s well worth listening to.”
This intrigued Jacen. He remembered hearing that she was not a particularly strong Jedi, but from the warm smile that passed between Luke and Tionne, he could tell that they understood each other well, and that Master Skywalker must have complete trust in his former student.
As Luke withdrew from the platform, leaving the students alone with Tionne, the silver-haired Jedi retrieved a curiously shaped stringed instrument from somewhere behind her. It consisted of two resonating boxes, one at either end of a slender fretted neck. The strings stretching across the instrument flared out in a fan pattern at both ends.
Seating herself on a low stool, Tionne began to strum. “I will tell you about a Jedi Master who lived long ago,” she said. “This is the ballad of Master Vodo-Siosk Baas.”
As she began to sing, Jacen agreed with his uncle; Tionne was indeed worth listening to. Her song rang clear and true. Its pure tones carried easily to the farthest corners of the great hall and transported them all to a time they had never witnessed. The music flowed around them, sweeping them along on currents of excitement and courage and triumph and sacrifice.
She sang of dire events that had taken place four thousand years earlier—how the strange, alien Jedi Master had been de stroyed by Exar Kun, one of his. own students who had turned to the dark side. Master Vodo had begged the other Jedi Masters not to do battle with Exar Kun, and had tried to reason with him alone—though his gentle hopes had ended in tragedy.
In the silence that followed her song, a flood of insight washed through Jacen as he realized that this Jedi was worth listening to for more than just her voice.
Tionne stood, to a collective sigh from everyone present. Jacen hadn’t even realized he’d been holding his breath.
“I trust my first lesson to you hasn’t been too painful,” she said with a merry twinkle in her pearly eyes. “Tomorrow I will give another lesson, after morning meal.”
With that, the evening meeting ended. Some listeners remained seated, transfixed, as if trying to absorb the last trickles of music lingering in the room. Others left singly or in whispering groups, while still others stayed behind to talk with Tionne.
Jacen, Jaina, Tenel Ka, and Lowbacca found themselves free at last to talk. They huddled together and discussed Lowie’s find. Em Teedee—carefully modulating his voice to an appropriate, secretive level—provided translations.
They speculated by turns about the strange glinting object that Lowbacca had seen out in the jungle. They came to only one conclu sion: at the earliest possible opportunity, they would go out together and investigate.
Tionne’s morning ballad fell in a fine musical mist, drenching its listeners with wonder and ancient lore. Jacen sat in the second row with his brandy-colored eyes closed, concentrating on her words, trying to absorb everything the music had to teach him. It was just as well that his eyes were shut, since his view was completely blocked by the colorful bulk of Raynar wearing his finest robes.