Ty didn’t respond, although he felt her defenses lower just enough to confirm his suspicions about her past. He saw Ty as a youngling. As a Padawan. She shifted slightly, uncomfortable, wanting to break the connection but knowing she couldn’t. Faces formed in his mind, an Azumel in Master’s robes, a teenage boy with scruffy hair and a mischievous grin. Names floated on the edge of her memories. Cibaba. Teradine. He saw them train, heard them laugh, and then felt shadows fall. A decision made. A life lost.

Elzar felt Ty wanting to break away and slipped his fingers through her own, squeezing her hand tight, not to stop her but to show her that for the first time in years she wasn’t alone. That he understood. Force knew what she had seen from his own past, what regrets she’d shared, but they were here together now and probably always would be.

All at once they were back on Valo, staring into each other’s eyes. They heard the cry of the sanvals, felt their fear and confusion.

We are one, Elzar thought, as much to the winged beasts in the sky as the woman standing in front of him.

We are connected, Ty responded.

For a second, Elzar felt as though he was looking through the eyes of the larger sanval, looking down at a man and a woman standing face-to-face in the swirling fog, their hands pressed together.

Your will is our will. Our wants and needs aligned.

The sanval shrieked, its companion … no, its sibling, echoing the call. They were hungry.

Your will. Our will.

The sanvals dropped into a dive, jaws gaping, talons bared.

Our will. Your will.

Elzar felt the wind against his face, smelled the blood of the sanvals’ prey … felt the anticipation of the kill, of the meat, the fat, the gristle.

Our will. Our will. Our will.

The sanvals landed softly on the ground and curled around Ty and Elzar. They weren’t hungry anymore. They didn’t want to eat. They wanted to help their friends.

Elzar broke the connection, although he still held on to Ty’s hand.

“Well,” she said, sounding breathless. “That was …”

“The Force working through us,” Elzar said, feeling strangely bashful and not just because of the things Ty had seen. It had been years since he’d allowed himself to get so close to someone, Samera included. The experience he’d just shared was deeper than any physical contact, more intimate.

He felt her fingers try to pull away and released his grip. She smiled awkwardly, turning instead to the sanval that waited patiently beside her, its large triangular head flat on the ground. Elzar did the same to the smaller of the two sanvals, patting its flank.

“It’s been a while since I felt anything like that,” Ty admitted. “Not since Loreth.”

“What happened on Loreth?”

She laughed. “You mean we still have some secrets?”