Qui-Gon shook his head helplessly. His hand trembled as he reached out to Obi-Wan. His fingers could almost touch Obi-Wan's tunic. As they came closer, the image dissolved into shimmering sparks of light.
Obi-Wan was so shaken he fell to his knees as Qui-Gon had. He felt the dampness of his cheeks, marked by tears. He had been given a message, but he could not decipher it.
All he knew was that he had just faced his greatest fear. Since Qui- Gon's death, he had been afraid that he would let down Qui-Gon even as he struggled to uphold his legacy. Was Qui-Gon warning him that he was in danger of failing, after all?
Chapter 3
Visions and voices. Shadows and echoes. What was so hard about this?
Anakin strode confidently into the depths of the cave. Jedi appeared and disappeared. Voices murmured at him to retreat, that he did not want to face what he had come to face. That despite his connection to the Force, he would never be a true Jedi.
Anakin shook off the voices. He knew the differences between things he could fight and things he could not. Why be afraid of shadows?
Then he stopped dead. He saw himself.
He was seven or eight years old and wore the rough garments of a slave. He sat in a corner by the cave wall, tinkering with an unseen object. Anakin heard the sound of a bell. A musical sound, light and pleasing.
Suddenly, the bell rolled directly toward him. He flinched and it stopped at his feet. Blood poured from the opening and spilled over his boots.
It isn't blood, he told himself. He could hear his racing heart pound in his ears. Shadows and echoes. That's all it is.
He was relieved when the vision of himself disappeared. A moment later a woman emerged from the darkness, her hair down around her shoulders.
Shmi.
"Mother. Mom — "
She did not hear him or see him. She ran straight past him. Tendrils of hair stuck to her cheeks. Her face was shiny with sweat. The sweat of terror. He smelled her terror, felt the air move his hair.
He turned, but she disappeared. Then when he turned forward, there she was. She ran toward him again, her face stretched by horror.
This he could not bear. Anakin squeezed his eyes shut. When he opened them again, another figure had joined Shmi. A huge man, more like a creature than a human. Anakin could not see his face, which was in shadow.
He grabbed Shmi roughly and threw her to the ground like a pile of rubbish.
"No!" Anger pounded in him, and he rushed forward. He seemed to hit an invisible wall and bounced back. The shadowy figure raised a hand to Shmi.
She curled up in a ball to absorb the blow. Her knees were drawn up and her head was tucked down. There was something familiar about the posture that caused dread to fill Anakin.
"No!" Anakin shouted.
Shmi looked directly at him for the first time. He saw the fear, the terror. This seemed familiar to him as well, as though it were a memory rather than a vision. But had he ever seen his mother afraid? Not that he could remember.
He wanted to bury himself in her arms, feel her strength, but he could not. He could not make the fear on her face go away. Was he seeing something that had actually happened? Or was he seeing the future? At that thought, his own fear rose.
Anakin felt the fear as a living thing, an oozing organism that filled his body and threatened to choke him. He fought against it. Fear would make him soft. He would make the fear hard. He would twist it and make it into a weapon. A weapon of anger. Anger was productive.
Obi-Wan had told him to accept the fear. He could not do it. If he breathed it in, it would fill his lungs and choke him. But anger he could direct.
"I'll kill you!" he shouted to the shadowy figure. The shadowy figure laughed.
"I will!" Anakin ran at the shadow and could not reach him. The vision disintegrated into particles of light.
With a last despairing look, Shmi disappeared as well.
In frustration, Anakin slammed his hand against the cave wall. Blood began to ooze from fissures.
You cannot save her, a voice said. No matter how many times you tell yourself you will. It is a dream. She lives the nightmare.
"Stop," he begged. "Stop."
As if the cave itself had heard him, everything stopped. The cave wall was smooth again. What had looked like blood was now just moisture. The darkness fell around him like a heavy blanket.
Shakily, Anakin moved forward. He felt sweat trickle down his forehead and cheeks. Ahead he saw a faint gleam on the floor of the cave.
"The crystals," a voice said.
He turned. It was Obi-Wan. His Master smiled at him. "It's time."
Anakin's step quickened. He leaned down to examine the cave floor. The crystals grew in intricate formations. Even in the dark cave, they glowed.
He passed his hand over them without touching. He felt vibrations emanate from them. Slowly, he chose the three that seemed to speak to him. To his surprise, it was easy to break the pieces free. He placed them in the pouch hanging from his utility belt.
"Before you begin, you must meditate," Obi-Wan said. "Go into a trance state, Anakin. Cleanse your mind. Then your feelings will guide your intent."
Anakin sat on the floor of the cave. He emptied the contents of the pouch onto his lap. He held the three crystals in his palm. They had a strange warmth.
Accessing the Force was not difficult for him, even now. He felt it rise around him from the dirt and rocks and air, and especially from the crystals themselves. He felt comforted by that sureness.
"Now begin." Obi-Wan's voice was soft.
His Master gave him a gentle, encouraging smile. But suddenly, Obi- Wan's face changed. Strange markings covered his skin. Horns sprouted from his bald head. The smile became a smirk, and Anakin saw blackness and evil.
It was Qui-Gon's murderer. Obi-Wan had described him in detail.
Anakin sprang to his feet, scattering the crystals.
"Did I startle you?" the Sith Lord asked. He began to circle around Anakin. "Perhaps you need to work on those Jedi reflexes. You're almost as clumsy as Qui-Gon."
Rage pumped through Anakin. Qui-Gon had risked so much to take Anakin away. He had been the one to see that Anakin could be a Jedi Knight. Anakin owed him everything. He reached for his training lightsaber, but it flew out of his hand.
The Sith laughed. "A child's toy. Try this." He threw something at Anakin. It was a fully fashioned light-saber, beautifully balanced, with an austere hilt. Just the kind of lightsaber Anakin would make.