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The Rise of Skywalker

Page 7

by Rae Carson


  Allegiant General Pryde was updating Ren on their progress, or rather lack thereof. Hux wasn’t sure how Pryde was able to deliver bad news without getting his head lopped off with a lightsaber or getting choked to death with the Force. Ren had no soft spots for anyone—except maybe the scavenger—so there had to be something else about Pryde. Something that kept him immune. Safe. Unafraid. Hux currently had resources devoted to finding out exactly what that was.

  “Sir,” Pryde was saying. “No leads yet, but the search for the girl continues.”

  “There’s no time,” said Ren. His voice was distant and mechanical now that he’d re-donned the mask. Hux distrusted masks on principle, but he was glad for Ren’s because it spared him the indignant assault of the Supreme Leader’s hair. A good leader led by example, and Ren’s hair was the furthest thing from regulation. A small detail, to be sure, but details mattered, and this one represented everything Hux hated about Ren. He was the exception to everything. Outside the rules. Disordered.

  When Hux finally took his rightful place as Supreme Leader, the first thing he’d do was make Ren cut off his hair.

  With uncharacteristic acceptance, Ren said to Pryde, “Then I’ll need to locate her myself.”

  “Yes, Supreme Leader,” said Pryde.

  “When she’s found,” Hux interjected, “I’ll personally take the kill squads to—”

  “Scan all systems for a Corellian YT-1300,” Ren said to Pryde, ignoring Hux. “The Millennium Falcon is the ship she’ll be in.”

  He turned to Hux and added, “The Knights of Ren will lead this hunt, General Hux. There is no room for error.”

  There was no smear of contempt in his voice, no impatience or irritation. Just dismissal.

  Hux stood alone in the corridor and watched Ren stride away from him, Pryde and the Knights close at his heels. It was fine that they all thought him a useless imbecile, he assured himself. Advantageous, even. In a way, Hux had his own mask.

  After all, the fact that they underestimated him had allowed him to put certain things in motion. This was all part of his plan.

  * * *

  —

  Rey peered through the quadnocs at the endless ocher desert. Pasaana reminded her so much of Jakku that it gave her an unexpected pang. The sand was redder in color, and the air smelled tangier, as though life thrived here in a way it didn’t on Jakku. But the sun was just as relentless, the sand just as insidious, the wind just as dusty and dry.

  How had she ever survived in a place like this? With no green anywhere to be found? Without the protective embrace of humidity? Without good Resistance-requisitioned boots and a freighter full of water stores parked nearby?

  “You sure this is it?” Poe asked at her back.

  “Oh, yes,” C-3PO answered. “These are the exact coordinates that Master Luke left behind.”

  Poe opened his mouth to speak, but a colossal drumbeat pierced the sky, so deep it thrummed in Rey’s chest. It was followed by a single syllabic thunderclap, as though a giant crowd shouted a word in unison.

  “What was that?” Poe said.

  They all crept forward, following their ears. Rey knew how tricky things could be in the desert. The wind and sand and snaking buttes made it nearly impossible to tell which direction a noise was coming from.

  C-3PO waddled forward faster than all of them. “It sounds like the end of a local Aki-Aki prayer—” he began.

  “Shhh! Threeps!” Finn warned.

  The drum sounded again, rolling into a series of beats like a coming storm. Then a mass of voices rose in joyful chorus, and the desert was suddenly filled with alien music that was as beautiful as it was startling.

  “Why it is!” C-3PO exclaimed. “We happen to have arrived the very day of their Festival of the Ancestors!”

  Rey’s heart was already sinking by the time they rounded a rocky outcropping to reveal a wide valley stretching below them—and the unspeakably huge crowd of Aki-Aki gathered there. Tens of thousands, whirling about in their cloaks, waving colorful flags. No, hundreds of thousands.

  Kites and banners floated in the air, tents and canopies provided spots of shade, and everywhere were cloaked figures, their movements marking them as not-quite-human. They danced and mingled, sang and ate, bought wares and sold them, from the near edge of the valley, all the way to the world’s rocky horizon.

  For a “forbidden” valley there sure were a lot of beings down there.

  “This only happens once every forty-two years!” C-3PO informed his companions.

  Poe grabbed the quadnocs from Finn, peered through them.

  Even without the ’nocs, a few figures at the valley’s near edge clarified in Rey’s view. They were indeed humanoid, with double, prehensile trunks and thick skin well suited to sun and sand.

  All at once the Aki-Aki flowed together like a wave and broke into a celebratory dance centered on a circle of bonfires. Brightly colored smoke rose from the fires, yellow, red, and teal dominating. Building-sized treadable vehicles circled the entire camp, their massive treads kicking up sprays of sand.

  Rey would have found it all inspiring and beautiful, if it were not so disappointing. Picking up Luke’s trail would be nearly impossible in this giant crowd.

  “Well, that’s lucky,” Finn said glumly.

  “Indeed!” C-3PO said. “The festival is known for its colorful kites and delectable sweets!”

  They glared at him.

  * * *

  —

  Few paid them any mind as they wandered through the festival. Though the vast majority of attendees were Aki-Aki, it appeared species from all over the galaxy had come to the celebration. Poe and Finn scanned the crowd, unsmiling, focused, all business. A clue had to be here somewhere. If they looked hard enough—stay alert, stay smart, Poe had said—they’d figure out their next move.

  But Rey found it hard to pay attention to the task at hand. The dancing was beautiful, so full of life and color, flowing like water, joyful. She saw a tiny Aki-Aki girl stumble in the crowd. Her parents shot forward to rescue her, yanked her up and cuddled her close before she could come to harm. The little girl went right back to dancing as though nothing had happened, without a care in the world because she had others to care for her.

  “I’ve never seen anything like it,” Rey said, half to herself.

  “I’ve never seen so few wayfinders,” Finn replied drily.

  “There are always random First Order patrols in crowds like these,” Poe reminded them. “Keep your heads down. Especially you, Chewie.”

  Chewie obliged by hunching over, but Rey wasn’t sure it made him any less noticeable.

  “Let’s split up, see what the locals know,” Poe said.

  He and Finn headed off, but Rey’s legs were rooted in place. A group of Aki-Aki were performing a puppet show. The children stared wide-eyed, sometimes laughing. A mother dressed in bright pink sat with them, holding her infant in her arms. Unlike the adults, the little ones didn’t possess long, bifurcated trunks but rather stubby little noses and plump cheeks. Rey thought they were adorable.

  Something tugged on her tunic, and she looked down to find a young Aki-Aki girl in a green robe trying to get her attention. Rey knelt before her.

  The girl held a trinket in her hands, made from woven jute strands and beaded with colorful grain—some kind of corn, maybe. Rey allowed her to place it around her neck. The Aki girl chattered the whole time, in a language Rey had never heard in all her years on Jakku.

  BB-8 warbled at the girl, and Rey translated: “My friend’s asking what the fires are for?”

  C-3PO repeated the question in the Aki language, and the girl answered without hesitation.

  “Their ancestors live in the fire,” C-3PO said. “This is how they show their gratitude. She says her name is Nambi Ghima.”

  Rey said,
“Oh, that’s an excellent name. I’m Rey.”

  Nambi asked a question, and C-3PO said, “She would be honored to know your family name.”

  Rey’s smile froze. “I…don’t have one. I’m just Rey.”

  The words echoed in her head. Just Rey.

  Her gut twinged with a sudden warning. She’d learned to trust this kind of warning, ever since connecting with the Force. She stood, seeking its source.

  All at once the sky darkened, as though day changed to night in the space of a moment. The bonfires were suddenly bright, casting the Forbidden Valley in ethereal light. The sounds of the festival faded. Something rumbled deep in her chest, something angry and desperate and…familiar.

  Then the festival was gone, whisked away and replaced by endless sand, whipped into flurries by the wind.

  She sensed him before she saw him, the familiar thing, as close as her own breath. It was Kylo Ren, black clad as always, his cape sweeping the ground. He stared at her in foreboding silence through his mask. The mask was different now, a patchwork of wicked black pieced together with angry red lines. Her skin dimpled with sudden cold.

  This wasn’t a vision. It was a Force connection, their first since Crait. And with the connection came a certainty that turned the blood in her veins to ice: He’d been looking for her.

  “Palpatine wants you dead,” he said, simply and without preamble.

  “Serving another master?” she asked, feeling strangely disappointed.

  “No. I have other plans.”

  Of course he did.

  “I offered you my hand once,” he said in that maddeningly calm voice. “You wanted to take it.”

  She didn’t deny it.

  “Why didn’t you?” he asked.

  “You could have killed me,” she said. “Why didn’t you?”

  “You can’t hide, Rey. Not from me.”

  It did something strange to her, to hear her name on his lips. Had he ever spoken it aloud before? She couldn’t remember…

  Now that the shock of seeing him again was wearing off, Rey began to notice other things. Like the fact that his voice carried an undercurrent of tension, or maybe even regret. That his boots were muddy. That his cloaked form cast a shadow on the desert floor, as though he were really, truly there with her.

  “I see through the cracks in your mask,” she said. “You’re haunted. You can’t stop seeing what you did to your father.” She imagined that moment as clearly as she could, Han’s hand on Kylo’s cheek, gazing at his son with love even as his dying body slumped over the chaotic red lightsaber that had skewered him.

  Rey wrapped her mind around the image. Threw it at Kylo.

  He flinched.

  Then he threw an image right back at her. Tally marks, scratched into the wall of her downed, sand-filled AT-AT. “Do you still count the days since your parents left? Such pain in you. Such anger.” He began walking toward her.

  She steeled herself.

  “Where are you?” he asked, reaching for her mind, grabbing something before she could barricade her thoughts. “Somewhere that reminds you of home on Jakku. Of waiting for your parents. The ache of being alone.”

  She would not show weakness. She would not let tears fill her eyes. She would not.

  “My mother doesn’t see the darkness in you,” he went on relentlessly. “Your friends don’t, either. But I do.”

  And that was Kylo’s mistake. Because he was deeply wrong about all of it. Leia knew about her dark visions, about the rage and impatience that always threatened their training sessions. Maz knew it, too.

  She opened her mouth to tell him to go kiss a rathtar, but he moved too fast, into her space so that he loomed over her. He smelled of molten iron.

  “I don’t want to have to kill you,” he said. “I’m going to find you, and I’m going to turn you to the dark side. When I offer you my hand again, you’ll take it.”

  Not a chance. “We’ll see,” she snapped.

  Before Rey could blink, he ripped the necklace from her neck, leaving her nape stinging.

  The ground tilted. The empty desert disappeared, and Rey was back at the festival, Aki-Aki whirling around her. A tall male approached, a yoke around his neck that branched out into a magnificent display of wares—grain jewelry, colorful fans, candies. Her fingers drifted to her neck, to the empty space where the necklace should have been. Her nape still smarted.

  It had been their most powerful Force connection yet. Even when she’d been in the hut on Ahch-To and their hands had met, it had been nothing like this—so vivid, so dangerously palpable. This time, they’d been in each other’s spaces.

  While she’d been occupied with Kylo, the crowd had pushed in around her, separating her from her friends. She dodged the merchant, searching for the droids—there! She waved at them to follow as she hurried off in the direction she’d last seen Poe and Finn and Chewie. She had to reach them now. She had to get her friends to safety.

  She spotted Chewie first; even slouching he was at least a head taller than anyone else in the crowd. He stood with Poe and Finn just outside a tent, talking to one of the locals. She wasted no time.

  “We have to go,” Rey said, interrupting their conversation. “Back to the Falcon, now.”

  “Where were you?” Poe asked.

  But Finn read her face and said, “What’s wrong? What happened?”

  “Ren,” she replied. “He knows we’re here.” Or at least he would soon enough.

  Poe and Finn did not question or hesitate. They took off around the tent, heading in the general direction of the parked Falcon. BB-8 rolled along with them as C-3PO struggled to catch up. They’d find another way to investigate the Forbidden Valley. After dark, maybe she could send C-3PO to—

  They almost collided with a stormtrooper, who whipped up his blaster.

  “Hold it right there!” he said.

  They froze. Rey began reaching for the Force.

  Over his comlink, he added, “I’ve located the Resistance fugitives. All units report to—”

  Suddenly there was a resounding crack. The stormtrooper’s head jerked backward, an arrow shaft sticking out of his left eye lens. He toppled into the sand, where he twitched once, then went completely still.

  They whirled, seeking the source of the arrow. A tall helmeted figure stood just inside the tent, holding back the flap with a walking stick. In the other hand was a scoped dart shooter that looked like a smaller, lighter version of Chewie’s bowcaster.

  “Follow me,” came a distinctly male voice. “Hurry.”

  Rey exchanged quick glances with her friends, who all nodded, and they set off after the helmeted figure. He hurried in the opposite direction, away from the Falcon, but he’d just saved them a lot of trouble so no one protested.

  That had been an amazing shot, which meant they were in dangerous company. It had happened fast enough that the stormtrooper had been unable to relay their exact location. So Rey hoped they were doing the right thing by trusting the stranger.

  They passed C-3PO, who was still hurrying to catch up to them. “Oh, slow down!” the droid protested to their backs. “What sort of friends are you?”

  The helmeted figure weaved through the crowd, leading them to one of the giant treadable vehicles. The entirety of the vehicle sheltered within its massive treads—the huge drum wheels, the cabin, the entrance portal. It sparked with familiarity; the propulsion system, the drive shaft, even the hanging cargo nets all reminded her of the speeder she’d cobbled together on Jakku, even though this vehicle was ten times the size and lacked any repulsorlift.

  What had happened to it? A Teedo had likely grabbed it. No, Unkar Plutt had undoubtedly scavenged it for parts. He probably hadn’t even waited a day after Rey was gone.

  The helmeted figure hurried them through the entrance into the hot, claus
trophobic cabin. Supplies and trinkets dangled from the ceiling, and the drive shaft ran right through the center, barely allowing enough headroom. C-3PO was the last to board.

  “To the east passage, Kalo’ne!” the helmeted figure called to the driver.

  The treadable jerked, then lumbered forward. This was no getaway vehicle; it was much too slow. But it did get them out of sight and away from the last location where they’d been spotted. The First Order would inevitably find them again, but Rey dared to hope they’d bought themselves some time.

  Their mysterious rescuer was putting himself at great risk to help them.

  “Leia sent me a transmission,” the stranger said.

  Finn perked up. “How’d you find us?”

  The figure reached for his helmet and lifted it from his head, revealing dark skin, close-cropped hair, and a handsome, mustached grin. “Wookiees stand out in a crowd,” he said.

  Chewie roared a name and practically leapt over Finn to reach the man.

  Lando? Rey thought. Well, no wonder. She’d heard so much about him from Leia and Chewie. The Falcon had once belonged to him!

  Chewie grabbed Lando in a hug, lifting him from the ground, nearly crushing the poor fellow.

  Lando just laughed. “Good to see you, too, old buddy.”

  “This is General Lando Calrissian!” C-3PO announced. “Allow me to give you a complete history of—”

  “We know who he is, Threepio,” said Rey.

  “It’s an honor to meet you, General,” Finn said.

  Chewie talked fast, and Finn frowned. Finn had been working hard to learn Shyriiwook and Binary—Rey was impressed with how fast he’d picked them up—but he still struggled to understand when things got intense.

  “Yes, Leia told me to keep an eye out for you,” Lando said.

 

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