It was also important that everything they did not only found favor with their hosts, but did not offend any of their inscrutable and closely held customs. Not knowing the details of these in advance, the Jedi could only proceed as best they could, while watching for any indications that their calculated response might be offending the Yiwa.

"I'll go first." Barriss rose abruptly to her feet. Moving to the center of the open space, which had been carpeted with a fresh flooring of clean quartz sand taken from the beach that fronted the lake, she turned to face her friends. There was a stir among the watching Yiwa. What would the flat-eyed, many-digited, maneless female visitor do? No one waited with more curiosity than Anakin.

Luminara gestured encouragingly at her Padawan. Nodding, Barriss reached down and removed the lightsaber from her belt. Immediately, several of the armed Yiwa went for their own weapons. Seeing that the other visitors remained seated and calm, a confident Mazong waved off his agitated sentries.

In the chill, still air of early night, Barriss's lightsaber blazed. She held it aloft, glowing perpendicularly, its soft hum rising above the approving murmurs of the watching Yiwa. Not exactly a dynamic performance, Anakin reflected, but certainly an arresting image. He wondered if their hosts would consider striking a pose sufficient to satisfy their requirements.

And then Barriss began to move.

Slowly at first, darting from left to right and back again, then north to south, her footprints laid out a design in the sand that marked the four points of the compass. The Yiwa saw right away what she was honoring with her movements. As a nomadic people, they were particularly appreciative. The Padawan moved faster and faster, gradually increasing the speed of her jumps until she was bouncing from point to point as if dancing atop a concealed trampoline. All the while she held her flaring lightsaber aloft, the spear of luminance piercing the night. The athleticism of the per formance was a tribute to her conditioning. It went, Anakin decided admiringly, well beyond basic Jedi training.

Then, just when it seemed she could move no faster, she be gan to twirl the lightsaber. Spectators gasped softly, and there sounded the first hisses and whistles of genuine admiration.

It was a revelation to Anakin, who until now had never thought of the conventional Jedi lightsaber as anything but a weapon. That outside the fencing arena it could also be a thing of beauty had never occurred to him. But in Barriss's hands it was transformed from a lethal tool into an instrument of effulgent splendor.

Spinning rapidly now as she continued to skip between the four points of the compass, the beam of spectral energy fooled the eyes into seeing a solid ring of light above her head. She began to swing the lightsaber, creating a lambent disk first on her right side, then on her left. Leaping from north to south, she brought her knees up to her chest and passed the beam beneath her feet, drawing sharp inhalations of surprise and awe from her audience. Several times she repeated the dangerous jump. Looking on as intently as any Yiwa, Anakin knew that if she misjudged height or swing, she could easily cut her feet off at the ankles. A greater miscalculation could result in the loss of an arm, or a leg- or her head.

The potential deadliness of the dance added greatly to the suspense, and to the brilliance of the performance. Drawing to a conclusion, Barriss jumped straight toward Mazong, executed a double flip with the lightsaber whirling beneath her, and landed on her knees not an arm-length in front of him. To his considerable credit, the Yiwa chieftain did not flinch. But his eyes never left the spinning lightsaber.

Another bit of Alwari lore was imparted to the visitors as the assembled clan demonstrated their approval not only with hisses and whistles, but with a mass cracking of the knuckles of their lissome, long-fingered hands. Waves of popping swept over the gathering. As for Mazong, he quietly consulted with his advisers.

Breathing hard, her lightsaber deactivated and refastened to her belt, Barriss resumed her seat alongside her companions. Lu-minara leaned over to whisper to her Padawan.

"A fine exhibition, Barriss. But that last stunt was truly treacherous. It would make me unhappy to have to return to Cuipernam with you in less than one piece."

"I've practiced it before, Master." The Padawan was well pleased with herself. "I know it's a dangerous move, but we do want to make as strong an impression as possible on these people so that they'll help us."

"Striking off your own limb would certainly make an impres sion." Seeing the younger woman's expression fall, Luminara reached out and gave her an encouraging hug. "I don't mean to be overly critical. You did well. I'm proud of you."

"So am I." Obi-Wan glanced to his right, to the pensive young man seated next to him. "It's your turn, Anakin."

That snapped Anakin out of his introspection. "Me? But Master Obi-Wan, I can't do anything like that. I haven't been trained for it. I'm a fighter, not an artist. Nothing I could do would begin to approach Barriss's presentation."

"It doesn't have to approach it." Obi-Wan was patient with his Padawan. "But the chieftain clearly indicated he wanted to ascertain the existence of a soul in all of us. That means you, too, Anakin."

The younger man chewed his lower lip. "I don't suppose my sworn and witnessed statement to the effect that I have one would be sufficient?"

"I think not," Obi-Wan replied dryly. "Stand out there, Anakin, and show them some soul. I know that you have one. The Force overflows with beauty. Draw on it."

With great reluctance, Anakin unfolded his legs and stood. Aware of the many eyes on him, humanoid as well as Ansionian, he strode slowly to the center of the sand-paved clearing. What could he possibly do to convince these people of his inner nature, to show them that he was as much a feeling being as the gravity-defying Barriss? He had to do something. His Master had insisted on it.

He didn't want to be here, in this circle of light in the middle of a nowhere place on a nowhere world. He wanted to be on Coruscant, or home, or…

The one memory that overrode all others jarred something loose. Something from his childhood. It possessed the virtues of simplicity: a song; slow, sad, and melancholic, but full of affection for the one who was listening. His mother had sung it to him frequently, when money was scarce and when desert winds howled outside their simple dwelling. She would appreciate the words of that song, which he had struggled to sing back to her on numerous occasions. That opportunity had not presented itself for many years now, ever since he had left her and the world of his birth.

Now he imagined that she was here, standing before him, her comforting and reassuring face smiling warmly back at him. Since she was not here to sing along with him, to remind him of the words, he was forced to draw entirely on his memories.