Communications were the real problem. The deaths of nameless Keshiri had stirred the Force little for those who didn’t care about them anyway. But the aftermath had stirred such confusion in the minds of the Sith that even the most experienced heralds were having trouble fielding messages. Korsin had been careful in calling for the return of his people from the Keshiri towns and villages; so far, Tahv and the rest of the major cities had not heard of the disaster in Tetsubal, and he didn’t want a mass withdrawal putting the natives on their guard. Sith abroad were instructed to casually remove themselves from public contact and make their way home.
What had befallen Tetsubal had not yet struck the major cities—but reconnaissance fliers were still out, checking on the surrounding areas. By the time word came in from the hinterlands, all of the Sith would be safely in their redoubt.
Seelah saw Korsin several times in the morning as she passed through. He wanted her staff to set up quaran-tines for reentry to the compound. None of the Sith who had torched Tetsubal were showing any symptoms of distress, but the stakes were high. Seelah had assignments of her own in the ward, and in fact few of her medical staffers appeared in public. “We’re working on the problem,” she had told him.
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24
John Jackson Miller
Reentering at noon, Seelah saw Ravilan standing with Korsin, monitoring reports. Korsin seemed hag-gard from lack of sleep—his little purple fluff wouldn’t be coming for lunch today! But Ravilan, despite his harrowing experiences of the day before, seemed reju-venated; his bald head was a robust magenta.
“It goes better than we feared, Korsin,” Ravilan said.
No Grand Lord now,Seelah noticed. Not even Commander.
Korsin grunted. “All your people are back?”
“I am informed they have all just arrived back at the stables. Not much of a vacation,” Ravilan said, his facial tendrils curling slightly, “but then there is much work to be done. On our new priorities.”
Seelah looked up. It should be about now.
“Rider coming!”
The herald sensed the uvak’s approach long before it appeared on the southern horizon. Waved directly onto the colonnade, the rider set the beast down and leapt to the stone surface. All eyes were on the new arrival. All save Seelah’s.
“Grand Lord,” he said, short of breath. “It . . .has happened again . . . in Rabolow!”
Seelah heard Korsin’s gasp—but she saw Ravilan’s yellow eyes bulge. It took but a second for the quartermaster to find his composure. “Rabolow?”
“That’s on the Ragnos Lakes, isn’t it?” Seelah looked toward Ravilan and smiled primly. “That’s where your people were assigned to go yesterday, wasn’t it, Ravilan? Villages on the Ragnos Lakes.”
He nodded. They’d all been there when it was being discussed. Ravilan cleared his throat, suddenly dry.
“I—I should speak then with my associate who just returned from there.” He hobbled past Seelah, turned, and bowed. “I—I really should meet them. Commander.”
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Star Wars: Lost Tribe of the Sith:Paragon 25
“You do that,” Seelah said. Korsin said nothing, still flabbergasted by the recent news and the coincidence.
He watched Ravilan disappear from sight, heading for the stables.
“Rider coming!”
Korsin looked up. Seelah thought he almost looked afraid, afraid of the news the rider would bring.
The news was of another city of death, on another of the Ragnos Lakes. A third rider told of a third. And a fourth. One hundred thousand Keshiri, dead.
Korsin goggled. “Something to do with the lakes?
That—what was it—algae of Ravilan’s?”
Seelah crossed her arms and looked directly at Korsin, stooped over and nearly her same height. She was tempted to let the moment linger . . .
. . . but there was work to be done. She called for Tilden Kaah.
Her worried assistant appeared from the direction of the ward, holding a small container. She took it and dismissed him. “Do you know what this is, Korsin?”
Korsin turned the empty vial over in his hand.
“Cyanogen silicate?”
It was from her medical stores on Omen—and also from the stores Ravilan kept for the creatures in his care. In its solid form, she explained, it was used as a cauterizing agent by healers working with the Massassi.
She had seen it used again and again in Ludo Kressh’s service. Nothing weaker could do anything to those savages’ hides.
“It’s bad enough on its own,” she said. “But if mois-ture gets into it, it breaks down—and intensifies a thou-sandfold. One particle per billion could do anything.”
Korsin’s bushy eyebrows flared. “What—what could it do in a water table? Or an aqueduct?”
Seelah held his hands firmly and looked directly into his eyes. “Tetsubal.”
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26
John Jackson Miller
She explained the story behind the death of her ward’s bearer. Beefy Gorem had been seconded to Ravilan’s team to help reach what remained in crushed sections of Omen.He’d apparently touched a stained deck plate from the Massassi apothecary and died outside, not long after washing his hands. Death was not instantaneous, but the victim never got far.
Ravilan must have seen Gorem’s death, she said, and realized he had a tool against the Keshiri. A weapon that could force Korsin and the rest of the humans to forget about building on this world—and recommit to leaving it.
And now every city that members of the Fifty-seven had visited in the previous day had gone the same way as Tetsubal.
Korsin spun and shattered his bridge chair against a marble column. He didn’t use the Force. He didn’t need to.
“Why would they do this?”He grabbed Seelah.
“Why would they do this, when it’s so obvious I’d trace it back to them? How stupid—how desperatewould they have to be?”
“Yes,” Seelah said, curling around him. “How desperate wouldthey have to be?”
Korsin looked into the sun, now beating down on the mountain. Releasing her, he looked into the faces of his other advisors, all waiting and wondering.
“Bring all the others in,” he said. “Tell them it’s time.”
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Chapter F our
Seelah had already set her mind on leaving Ludo Kressh before he executed her family. It was trivial; his ankle had been injured in a battle, and she had failed to stop the infection. He’d killed her father the first night, and his leverage lessened considerably after that. Seelah found her chance to go a few days later, when one of Sadow’s mining teams stopped on Rhelg to refuel. She didn’t have anybody left by then, anyway.
Devore Korsin had been her escape. She saw his immaturity and recklessness, but she also saw something there to work with. He, too, strained against the invisible chains limiting his ambition. He could be her ally. And in Sadow’s service, at least, something could happen—as long as Devore didn’t foul it up.
And if he did, well, there was always their son . . .
Lightsabers flashed in the night on the mountain—but not on the main plaza. Seelah walked calmly along the darkened colonnade, now festooned with added decorations: the tentacled heads of the Fifty-seven, staked at even intervals.
There was the young sentry from the tower, trapped and killed. He’d never abandoned his post. To the right was Hestus, the translator; Seelah had been involved mill_9780345519405_1p_all_r1.qxp:8p insert template 12/1/09 3:5