Lourna Dee’s idea, though…it had possibilities.

There was no need to hold a formal vote. Lourna Dee was obviously for it, and the Eye’s two votes would ensure it went ahead, if Marchion Ro agreed.

“Fine,” he said. “Send me the plan, what you think you’ll need, and I’ll get you some Paths. But do not do anything to get the attention of those Jedi. Get in, grab the family, get out.”

“Thank you,” Lourna Dee said, and left. As ever, the woman never said a word more than she needed to.

Kassav and Pan Eyta glanced at each other, then back at MarchionRo.

Pan shrugged. He left, following Lourna Dee back to the celebration outside.

Kassav did not.

Marchion lifted his mask and replaced it on his head.

“Dunno how that was fair, Ro,” the Weequay said. “You giving Lourna Dee a job, giving her Paths, but saying Pan and me gotta stop. I got people to feed, too. I got like a thousand people in my Tempest, and ain’t one of ’em gonna be happy with this. How about I send you some ideas, maybe you choose one and I can get something going? You’d get a share, too—a full third to the Eye, just like always. Don’t you want that payday?”

They returned to the Great Hall, walking past the spiked guard droids, who once again inclined their heads as the Eye and the Tempest Runner passed.

Marchion walked to the edge of the platform, Kassav close on his heels, right up against the blue lights that marked the border of the vacuum shields.

“Your father never would have done something like this,” Kassav said. “Shutting down the Paths? Forget it. Not Asgar Ro. He wasn’t any kind of coward, no way.”

Marchion Ro went very still.

“My father’s dead, Kassav,” he said. “I’m the Eye now. You can do whatever you want with your Tempest, but the Paths come from me. You don’t like it? You want to make a play for me, try to take what I’ve got? Go for it. Just be aware…”

He gestured out at the void.

“…there’s a price.”

Chapter Twenty-two

“What are you waiting for?” Loden said.

Bell crept closer to the edge of the cliff and peered over. The ground didn’t look any closer than it had the last four times he checked. He looked back at his master, who had his arms folded. He was smiling, but it was one of those smiles that felt much more like a deep, disapproving frown.

Get on with it, that smile said. Unless you’d prefer to be a Padawan for the rest of your life.