The safest place to move was in the direct center of the tunnel, but it was also the place with the fewest roots or vines to balance on. Anywhere safe to stand was also well within the 8-Ts’ range.

Dez nimbly climbed past Reath to the place where Nan and the Mizi clung to their feeble handholds. The 8-Ts swarmed closer with each of his steps, but he never paused or even stopped smiling. Reaching out one hand, Dez summoned two of the vines from above, which writhed their way down into his waiting palm. Then he tossed one to the Mizi and bent to gather Nan under his arm. “Follow me with Affie, okay, Reath?”

“Got it!” Reath called back.

Dez nodded to the Mizi, and on an unspoken count between them, they began to climb. The Mizi managed so well that Reath realized Dez was controlling their ascent. It was much easier to use the Force to help boost someone already climbing than to simply levitate them into thin air.

So Reath began working his way toward Affie—but so did the 8-Ts. The full swarm had reached them. Affie winced as the droids crawled like beetles to the bend of the root that provided her fragile hold on the wall.

“I can’t believe I’m going to be taken out by severed astromech heads,” she said, grabbing for her blaster, “but at least I’m taking a few with me before I—”

“Affie, no!” The idea came to Reath in a rush. “Don’t shoot the droids. Shoot the tree roots below us.”

“The tree is not my problem!”

“But it will be the Aytees’ problem! See?”

Understanding dawned. Affie half turned and fired downward, at the lowest root she could possibly target. Her blaster ignited a small fire, which then set some moss ablaze.

Small as the first flames were, it took only those wisps of smoke to set off the 8-Ts’ alarms. The blinking blue lights along their bases turned red and they all rotated as one, swirling to get as close to the tree as possible. As Reath had suspected, protecting the plants from fire took precedence over every other job an 8-T had—including pursuing vandals who’d intruded into the tunnels.

While the droids sprayed small jets of water over the moss, easily dousing the fire, Reath was able to reach Affie, who had already grabbed a vine. He expected her to climb up to the arboretum level without him, but instead she reached out for help, which Reath was glad to give. As she clung to his shoulders, Affie said, slightly winded, “I still think you should’ve let me shoot one.”

“Next time.”

Her grip slipped, and he managed to lower her before she fell. Reath expected her to laugh off her clumsiness and to right herself immediately. Instead, Affie staggered sideways, gripping one wrist. “I feel weird. That scrape—from the vine—”