Part 1

  Carlo’s eyes snapped open.

  He was standing in the center of his home village. It was all as he remembered. The low, thatched domes that served as their homes were scattered about him. Several villagers attended the cook fires nearby, the thin white smoke rising gently into the sky. It was all so joyful and comfortable.

  But at the same time, it wasn’t right.

  No sound filled his ears. The children playing nearby made no sounds at all. The villagers were speaking but, while he could see their mouths moving, no voices reached his ears. The fire burned and the meat was cooking but no smell reached his nostrils.

  There was something else not quite right, as if time itself was not passing at the proper speed. The villagers’ movements were slow. The birds flying overhead were moving too slow, the flapping of their wings was sluggish.

  Carlo’s stomach tightened. This was too familiar.

  He knew instinctively where and when to turn to see the cart just as he had before. It was out of control, barrelling toward the same young child as before. The boy’s face was a mask of fear, his expressions glacial and his eyes slowly widening in similitude of the villagers’ movements and the birds’ flight.

  The terrible, stomach wrenching familiarity of the scene unfolding in front of him caused his heart to race. Carlo tried to cry out but still there was no sound. He was as silent as the rest of his surroundings.

  Carlo tried to spring forward but his movements were as if he was stuck in amber.

  It didn’t matter anyway. This was happening just as it happened before. He knew that he was too far away.

  The slow motion scene continued. The wagon hit the same rock as it had before and twisted as it went airborne. It was so close to the child that it seemed like the boy could reach out and touch it. It was moving so gently in its creeping motion that it seemed as if the boy could just push it away.

  Carlo, reached his hand out, just like before.

  Too far.

  He was too far away.

  But wait. There It was again. Carlo could see the distance but it didn’t feel like distance. Instinct took over. A strange, unfamiliar and yet somehow comfortable feeling blossomed within him.

  He pulled. And again, as before, the child left the ground and sailed out of harm’s way into his waiting arms.

  The cart crashed into pieces and surely would have killed the small child had he remained where he’d stood.

  Carlo’s joy and relief from knowing the child would live filled him but the exultation soon melted into a cold, sinking dread.

  The woman of the village who’d seen the whole episode stood staring. Her mouth was agape, her lungs filling with the breath that would produce the cry of alarm.

  Carlo waited for the woman to scream, “Witch!”

  *****

  “Master Carlo?”

  Carlo’s eyes snapped open. The white canvas tent roof met his gaze instead of the sky. He’d been asleep, dreaming. Set upon the pack next to him was VP16’s head. He spoke again, “Are you well? Your sleep appeared disturbed.”

  Carlo sat up. “I’m fine.”

  He leaned over the sleeping figure next to him. Charles was still resting soundly. He pulled the boy’s blanket up over his shoulders. He would let Charles rest for a while longer.

  There was some movement outside the tent. He got up and clipped the lightsaber to his belt. Opening the tent door, he slipped outside.

  Timchuk was hunched over a small fire, placing a pot on the coals. He took notice of Carlo immediately. “Ah, good morning. We’ll have something to drink here soon.” As Carlo walked up to the fire he continued, “Sleep well?”

  He shook his head. “Bad dreams.”

  Timchuk nodded.

  Carlo and Charles had gone to him and he had immediately offered his assistance when he heard about the assassination attempt.

  Carlo looked out toward the rolling hills beyond the valley where they were camped. “How far do you think it is?”

  Timchuk raised an eyebrow. “To the mountain? A few days.”

  He sighed. They were already three days out from Paradise.

  They’d been climbing into the hills out of the desert since the day before and were now in an alpine valley dominated by large stands of evergreen trees and a small placid lake.

  Timchuk handed him a cup of a warm, stout liquid that Carlo had learned to like over the last couple of days. It seemed to give him a boost of energy in the mornings.

  Their new companion took a sip from his own cup and gestured toward the hills east of their camp. “The trail takes us that way. A couple days from now we’ll be at the base of the mountain.”

  Charles crawled out of the tent carrying VP16. He came to the fire and Carlo took the droid’s head, handing the cup to the boy who took a small sip.

  They ate a small meal and then struck camp. It didn’t take long to get the fathiers loaded and they were again on their way.

  They followed a thin trail out of the valley into a pass marked by a rocky cliff on one side rising to a great height. The opposite side was thick with aspen trees themselves thick with green leaves. Timchuk pointed them out and noted that the leaves would turn golden or red when the cooler weather came on in a few months. About midday they crossed a stream that was meandering down the pass to the valley and the lake behind them. They stopped to have some water and a quick bite of food before continuing on their way.

  It took most of the afternoon for them to traverse the rest of the pass into the next valley beyond. It opened wide and extended indefinitely, at least in appearance, to the north and to the south. Across the valley to the east yet another mountain range rose high into the deep blue sky. Craggy, gray cliffs and steep faces with only a couple of passes to whatever lay beyond were visible.

  The valley itself appeared pristine. No evidence of civilization or settlements of any kind were seen. A little to the south of their entrance to the valley was a small lake with a stream that connected it with the eastern cliffs.

  Carlo halted the fathier he and Charles were riding to take in the vista. Timchuk and the two fathers they were using as pack animals halted next to them. Carlo pointed to the imposing cliffs on the opposite side of the valley and shot Timchuk a questioning look. He shook his head. “That’s nothing. According to my great uncle's journal, we are still at least two days away.” He seemed to take sudden notice of the position of the sun in the sky. He held his hand up to shade his eyes as he did. He spurred his fathier forward, leading the pack animals forward as well. “Best find a good place to camp for the night.”

  Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

  A couple hours later found the group sitting around a campfire eating their evening meal. The two tents had been pitched nearby. The fathiers were tethered and were lazily eating some of the grasses growing at their feet. VP16 had been placed on a tree stump.

  Carlo handed a piece of dried meat to Charles who proceeded to devour it in one bite. He had been worried about breaking his promise to return the boy home to Utopia. He thought Charles would be resentful but so far the boy hadn’t even seemed to notice that they were heading further away from his home instead of getting closer.

  Timchuk took out his great uncle's journal as was his custom whenever he was done eating his evening meal. It was a large, leather bound book in which a great deal had been written about the journey from Paradise to the mountain. As he opened it Carlo could hear the pages crackling. He flipped through a few pages before stopping and declaring, “Ah ha!”

  He moved around the fire to sit next to Carlo. “He mentions this valley. Gets cold here in the winter but they mostly came through in warmer weather. Doesn’t seem like they ever saw any people here.”

  Carlo looked at the page but he couldn’t read the writing. “So did the Jedi come with them?”

  Timchuk nodded. “The Jedi hired my uncle and his crew to take supplies and equipment to the mountain. When one of their order came to visit the sanctuary they would go up with them.” He flipped a few more pages. “My uncle's crew would only transport the supplies to the base of the mountain. At that point they were always met by Jedi who took everything the rest of the way.”

  “So he never went to the shrine itself?” Carlo asked.

  “No. He wrote here that you have to go through a series of slot canyons, called the Dark Passage, before reaching the base of the mountain where the real climb begins. It was believed that only a Jedi would be able to find their way through.”

  Carlo scoffed. “If only a Jedi can get through, what hope do we have?”

  Timchuk laughed heartily. “That’s where you come in, my boy!” He said pointing at the lightsaber hanging from his belt.

  It was Carlo’s turn to laugh. “The saber will lead us through?”

  Timchuk slammed his book shut. “Not the saber, no.” He stood up and went to his tent.

  The humor drained from Carlo. “Then what?”

  Timchuk offered no answer but stumbled into his tent, shutting the door behind him.

  After a moment VP16 spoke, “Perhaps he was referring to the Force.”

  It wasn’t long after Timchuk retired to his tent that Carlo saw Charles sway a bit to the side and then, as his eyes half closed, his head tipped forward and then jerked quickly upright again.

  Carlo reached out a steadying hand to the boy's back. “Come on, let’s get you in the tent.”

  He offered little resistance and Carlo helped him into the shelter and, by the time he’d covered him with a blanket, the child was fast asleep.

  He twisted the control on the lamp hanging in the shelter, dimming the light, and went back to the fire pit. He picked up VP16 before going back inside the tent, covering the entry behind him.

  He checked that Charles was still asleep before setting the droid head and the lightsaber in front of him as he sat cross legged in the middle of the shelter.

  “Meditation?” inquired the droid.

  Carlo nodded as he closed his eyes and reached out for the Force. VP16’s head and the saber rose into the air and began to orbit each other.

  “I’m not sure this is entirely dignified, Master Carlo,” the droid said as he tumbled through the air.

  Carlo didn’t open his eyes and he tried to push the annoyance out of his mind. “Quiet,” he commanded. “I want to try something new.”

  The dance between the droid’s head and the saber slowed a bit and, as Carlo’s concentration deepened, the strain started to show in his face. Finally VP16 and the saber stopped moving altogether as Carlo rose off the ground, floating, until he was sitting in the air about a handbreadth above his blanket.

  The effort took its toll, Carlo’s right hand was trembling and a bead of sweat rolled from his forehead and down his cheek.

  “Witch!” The word, as if called out by the woman from his village, struck through his mind, shattering his tenuous focus.

  The droid’s head and the saber fell onto the blanket almost noiseless. Carlo himself plopped back to the ground at the same moment.

  He sighed and placed VP16 in an upright position near the tent wall. “What happened?” The droid asked.

  “Nothing. It was nothing.” Carlo replied. Not wanting to endure any further questions, he said, “I’m going to get some rest.”

  *****

  Carlo awoke the next morning and found that a light rain was falling. The musty scent filled the air as well as the mist. Timchuk was already packing his equipment onto the fathiers. He took notice of Carlo and Charles coming out of their tent.

  “It’s too wet for a fire this morning.” He tossed Carlo a small bag of dried meat. “We can eat as we go.”

  It didn’t take long for them to be back on the trail. Not long after the rains ceased and the sun broke through the dark clouds above. The storm pushed its way further to their south. Soon, they were walking under a deep blue sky with only scattered puffy white clouds above the treetops.

  The trees thinned within an hour or so of travel and finally gave way to the expansive meadows that appeared to predominate the valley. The lush, green grasses rolled with the winds over seemingly endless rolling hills. It was a beautiful sight that brought a smile to Carlo’s face. As a desert dweller he was fascinated by the quantity of a color so rare where he’d lived.

  Even Charles, normally expressionless, appeared to be delighted by the sight.

  After a few minutes of discussion, Timchuk and Carlo decided to head for the lake they’d seen upon entering the valley.

  They made good time through the valley and before the shadows began to lengthen, they arrived at the shore. The lake was blue and still. They could see a few waterfowl off in the distance and there were reeds in clumps at irregular distances.

  Timchuk and Charles took to unloading the fathiers and began to set up camp. Carlo took a Czerka slugthrower rifle and went hunting. By the time the tents were set up and Timchuk had the fire burning, he had returned with a young hart, a type of fur covered, four legged beast that seemed plentiful in this valley. This particular specimen had two long spirally horns protruding from its angular head.

  They ate well that night before retiring to their tents.

  The next day after striking camp they rode to the east end of the lake where the stream that fed it stretched away toward the mountains that bordered the eastern valley.

  Carlo surveyed the vista and swept an arm toward the mountains. “Looks like we have a decision to make.”

  Looking out over the same direction Timchuk could see what Carlo was referring to. The stream wound out of a canyon a few hours’ ride from them but to the south of that opening in the rocks was a second canyon without a stream. Timchuk replied, “I see what you mean.”

  “Any idea which route we should take?” Carlo inquired.

  Timchuk rubbed his chin and then smiled thinly. “I have no clue.” He leaned forward in his saddle and fixed his eyes on Carlo’s. “Do you have a feeling one way or the other?”

  VP16’s voice filtered out from the bag at Carlo’s side, “Perhaps he is referring. . .”

  Carlo cut the droid off with a slap to the bag. “Not really.”

  Timchuk looked somewhat disappointed and he sighed. “My uncle mentioned the lake with the stream. He didn’t say it came from the canyon though.”

  Carlo looked down at Charles. “What do you think? Do we follow the stream?”

  The boy looked fairly surprised but then, happy to be included in the decision, nodded his head vigorously.

  Timchuk’s laughter rang out. “Then that’s our road!” He spurred his fathier forward following the stream away from the lake and toward the canyon.

  They continued along the stream and into the canyon. The elevation increased gradually and the coniferous trees returned. The canyon walls rose higher and the sky above cleared of clouds with nothing but deep blue showing above them.

  Midday came and they paused for a quick meal near the stream. They ate leftover meat from the hart Carlo had taken the day previously and refilled their water containers. The temperature had warmed considerably and Charles took a quick splash in the stream. Carlo and Timchuk both chuckled watching the normally reserved child playfully jumping in the water chasing fish in the shallows.

  They continued until the shadows began to grow long. The trail had thinned to a point that they had to ride single file and even then the branches of the bushes and trees scratched at them as they passed. Carlo was becoming concerned that they would have to camp on the thin trail when suddenly the trees vanished and they came to a bald point where the trail began a descent even though the cliffs on either side were still high above them. Looking at the way ahead they could see that it was clear of trees for at least the first part of the descent so they continued down to a spot that appeared relatively flat. It was there that they stopped to camp for the night.

  Night fell with a rapidity that surprised them all. By the time the tents were up and the fire lit darkness had fallen. Again, they made a meal of the leftover hart.

  Charles fell asleep almost immediately after eating and Carlo had to carry him to the tent. Timchuk retired as well with only a yawn and a “Goodnight.”

  Carlo stayed up until the fire burned low, having a quiet conversation with VP16’s disembodied head.

  The following day as the sun was high overhead the threesome finally emerged from the canyon onto a high hill, clear of trees that overlooked a vast body of water. It was a lake so large that even from their high vantage they could not even see the opposite shore. On the lake itself were several boats, a few with sails unfurled to take the wind.

  On the visible shore was a small village. It was made up of a collection of smaller buildings surrounding a much larger, tall wooden structure. Stone chimneys attached to many of the buildings produced thin smoke that rose lazily into the sky, floating off on the early afternoon breeze. A sliver of wood extended into the water from the nearby shore forming a dock where a single boat was moored.

  Timchuk halted his fathier next to Carlo and Charles. The boy appeared fully absorbed by the panorama before them but Carlo saw the look of concern on Timchuk’s face.

  “What’s the matter?”

  Timchuk leaned forward on the saddle. “I think we’re lost.”

  “Lost?”

  Timchuk lifted the wide brimmed hat from his head and wiped his forehead with his shirt sleeve. “My uncle never mentioned a lake like this one.”

  Carlo understood the older man’s concern. “So you think we missed the trail somewhere in the canyon?”

  Timchuk shrugged. “Possibly. Or I wonder if we took the wrong canyon to begin with.”

  Carlo sat heavily in his saddle. The thought of having gone two days in the wrong direction was a depressing one.

  He had a sudden thought. “I wonder if those folks know anything about the shrine.”