For years she’d been aware that she was most deeply connected with the Force at times and in ways that went contrary to Master Laret’s teachings. Orla wanted to follow her master’s teachings—Laret Soveral was the perfect model of a Jedi, in Orla’s opinion—but her own experience of the Force was not the same.

It will be, she told herself stubbornly. You’ll be more like Master Laret if you just keep trying. Cohmac’s hurting because he lost his own master, but there’s no reason to let his pain drag you away from Jedi teachings.

Trust your master. Trust the Order. Trust that someday it will all be clear to you, as clear as rainwater.

When Orla fell silent, Cohmac at first wondered if she condemned him—but no. Sympathy still radiated from her.

Probably she was only trying to guide him along the proper path. As Master Simmix had once said, “You can disagree with the Council, but it matters how you disagree.” Broadcasting the anger he felt was foolish. It solved nothing and reflected poorly on his master’s training. If Cohmac could not grieve, he at least intended to stand as an example of Master Simmix’s faithful duty to the Jedi.

Besides, anger was distracting, and this was not a time to get distracted.

Master Laret stopped walking and held up one hand, cautioning them. More serpents? Cohmac tensed and listened for the telltale rustle of scales on stone.

Nothing. Master Laret was staring upward.

In a low voice, she said, “I believe we are beneath the kidnappers’ lair.”

“Beneath?” Orla kept her voice down, too, despite her obvious puzzlement. “But these caves aren’t that deep—”

“We’ve traveled beneath a larger rock formation. There’s more room above us than before. Which means more caves.” Master Laret turned back to the Padawans, her expression grave. “Without any schematics, we can’t be certain—but I believe we’ll find a connection between this cave and theirs. At least some passageway. The air currents suggest it.”

Cohmac realized there was a slight breeze. “So, we’re going in?”

“We’re getting closer,” Master Laret corrected him. “We don’t go in until we know where the hostages are, whether they are alive, and how to keep them safe. Our job here isn’t to fight the kidnappers. It’s to save the hostages.”

It was good, before a skirmish, to remember that any armed action was only a means to an end. Cohmac nodded, determined to serve well in Simmix’s honor.

“You know,” Thandeka muttered, “we might not even be in this position if E’ronoh had been willing to negotiate with Eiram.”

Cassel had slightly long front teeth, round eyes, and a flatly upturned nose that made him resemble a bright blue voorpak. “I thought it was Eiram that wouldn’t negotiate with E’ronoh.”