Korsin watched as Jariad strode purposefully from the temple doorway, weapon lit. “This doesn’t look like the Northern Reaches to me, Jariad.”

His nephew said nothing. He had that wild look again. Devore’s look.

“I agreed to your little group to give you something to do,” Korsin yelled. He addressed Jariad’s stern companions. “You should be ashamed. Get back to Tahv.”

“I’m not like Nida,” Jariad said, still approaching. “I don’t need hobbies. Enough time has been wasted.” He walked around his confederates, now forming a perimeter of glowing lightsabers around Korsin’s group. “It’s time to make your reckoning, Commandermill_9780345519412_2p_all_r1.qxp:8p insert template 2/25/10 1:27 PM

Star Wars: Lost Tribe of the Sith:Savior 19

Korsin. You told us yourself. A new age has dawned.

It’s time for military authority to end. This is about succession—about who should best lead the Tribe.”

“Who? You?” Korsin tried to act surprised—and chuckled. “Oh, Jariad—I really don’t think so. Go home.”

Jariad froze, evidently aware of the watchful stares from his own forces. Gloyd, seeming to catch the idea, guffawed. “Commander, I wouldn’t put this one in charge of mucking out the uvak stalls.”

“I’m the future!” Jariad boomed. “I’m the youngest of those born on high. All Sith after me are Kesh-born.”

He raised his lightsaber. “The leader of the Sith should be special.”

Korsin glared—and growled. “You’re not special.

I’ve seen your like before.”

A woman’s voice rang out. “Tell him about it!”

Seelah. He’d forgotten about her. She stood at the end of the plaza, now joined by several of her loyal retain-ers. All armed. “Tell him about how you saw his father die,Yaru. Tell him how you killed him and threw his body onto the rocks, all to keep control of us!”

Korsin started to respond, only to see Jariad step backward. The Sabers closed in. Clearly, Jariad was going to let them take the first blows before entering for the kill. Korsin steeled himself—and looked to the clouds. Noon.

Suddenly shadowy figures sailed across the quad.

Five, ten—dozens of creatures took to the skies, lifting from behind the temple. Uvak.

Theirs.

“What in blazes?” Jariad looked to his mother. Seelah appeared to have no more idea than he did.

An answer finally came from one of her aides, rushing breathlessly up the staircase to the plaza. “The stable-hands—the Keshiri! They’re stealing our uvak!”

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Several of Jariad’s Sabers looked up, stunned. Korsin saw his chance. He and Gloyd launched toward the black-suits on their side, sweeping a deadly path toward the nearest building. Their bodyguards closed in behind them, blocking pursuit as best they could.

Korsin and Gloyd dashed through the building, followed by a mob of Sabers. Korsin made for the staircase, beckoning for Gloyd to follow.

“Nice trick, Commander,” Gloyd said. “But we could’ve used more than that!”

“It’s not my trick,” Korsin said, reaching a window.

“And you’re right!”

He looked urgently toward the skies and probed the Force in vain. He had been delivered from the mountain years before. But he could sense that his deliverer now was far away.

Her riding had improved since her first desperate flight, years before. Now Adari ably guided Nink as he soared, following the jagged coastline below. Behind her flew more than a hundred uvak—the entire popu-lation of the stables at the mountain temple, ridden by Keshiri stable hands, domestics, and laborers. All agents of Adari’s movement, all carefully positioned there for this day. If any mounts had been left to the Sith in the temple, no one was using them to follow.

The flock approaching far from the east was one of hers. There’d be others. In villages across the continent, the same thing would be happening: Neshtovar conspirators merely tending their uvak would, instead, take to the air with them, leaving none behind.

There wouldn’t be riders enough, but that didn’t matter. While not natural herd animals, even unbroken uvak were strongly suggestible to the booming bleats of elder males—the exact sort the Neshtovar tended.

Stories had been passed down of aerial roundups over mill_9780345519412_2p_all_r1.qxp:8p insert template 2/25/10 1:27 PM

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the centuries, with riders leading clouds of the reptiles through the sky. Adari’s would be a rolling storm front, sweeping up all the animals in the countryside in vast, successive waves. They’d crafted their routes to funnel every uvak that wasn’t tied down toward the Sessal Spire, looming ahead in its smoldering majesty.

Here, safely away from the crater, the lead riders would set their beasts down just long enough to dismount. Remaining aloft, Adari would order Nink to give a nesting cry: a powerful command compelling all uvak within earshot to immediately follow. At forty, pampered Nink was the oldest uvak in memory. All uvak would blindly heed his command—briefly. But long enough, Adari figured, for her to soar into the clouds high above the smoking crater—and disappear.

It wouldn’t be suicide. It would be deliverance.

The Sith had traveled far on uvak-back, but the Neshtovar were the recipients of generations of knowledge of the air currents of Kesh. They knew the odd things the jet stream did when the Sessal Spire acted up.

Riders flying high enough simply vanished, hurtling beyond the morning horizon, far over the great eastern sea. She would climb high—and the wind would claim her and any uvak that followed.

Despite her initial dislike of uvak, she winced at the thought of what would follow. The frantic flock would struggle against the vortex, but at such an elevation, Kesh was in command. Perhaps a similar phenomenon had disabled the Sith vessel; Adari didn’t know. But by the time the winds weakened, she—and every uvak she could convince to follow—would be headed for a watery end. Just like my husband,she mused.

Her co-conspirators loved their uvak, but they hated the Sith more. They had often discussed what would happen next. The Sith leaders would descend on their service path, but it would take time—time during mill_9780345519412_2p_all_r1.qxp:8p insert template 2/25/10 1:27 PM

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which Adari’s allies would strike at the major Sith sym-pathizers in each village. There would be no open resistance. It would be shikkar blades in the night. The Sith might be proud.

In truth, of course, the Sith would lash out. Tahv would surely feel their wrath. But the Sith would be running their pogrom on foot. Their transportation would be gone from the map—literally. And the Keshiri would find it easier to kill the remaining stray uvak than Sith.

The Sith now had young of their own to protect; they might simply stake out a chunk of territory for themselves and leave it at that. Or, better still, they might retire to their mountain refuge for good. Most Keshiri still idolized their Protectors—but as long as some of them were willing to poison their masters, they would forever be a danger.

Presuming poison killed the Sith at all. Adari had never really shared her confederates’ enthusiasm about the aftermath. She knew what the Sith were capable of.

It might take a thousand Keshiri to kill a single one. But even if it did? Right now, the odds still favored the Keshiri. They wouldn’t later on. Which is why this has to be today,she thought.

Kesh teemed with life. That one of its species would pay a price for its usefulness was tragic. But the Keshiri had already paid a price for their own usefulness to the Sith. Both had to end.