Surrounding her navel with kisses,Tabraile traced a path from Anayera's belly to her chest, across the thin fabric of the black crop top she wore, to her neck. He hovered over her lips, kissing her, and dropped a berry from his mouth into her.

Anayera laughed and bit down on the sweet fruit. "These Zsajhira berries are delicious!"

"Another of Socorro's best kept secrets." He rolled over onto the ground beside her and ran his fingertips over her arms.

"The best kept secret on this planet just came home," she said, propping herself up on her elbow. "And it is, by far, the sweetest."

Tabraile chuckled. "Let's give this a shot." He handed her the lightsaber.

Twisting apart the shaft and disconnecting the assembly, she emptied the dark fragments onto the ground, where they were lost in the black sand. She inserted the dusky carrigtye and reassembled the hilt. Remorsefully, she turned to him. "Thank you, Tabraile."

"For what?" he snorted. "Haven't seen if it works yet."

"It won't matter. I've had such an adventure with you."

"Day in the life of a Socorran pirate." Tabraile laughed and laid back in the sand. "Get used to it. There's more to come."

Anayera ignited the lightsaber. The weapon hissed to life with a white shaft that was tinged with a faint blue. It filled the surrounding air with a resonant vibration, which shifted and wavered as she swung the blade against the desert air,

"I call that a successful lift-off," Tabraile said, "but I think we need a proper test." He strapped on the Caelli-Merced blaster and tied down the holster. "You ready for this?" He trotted a few steps away from her.

Disengaging the lightsaber, Anayera assumed a defense stance in the sand. "Give it your best, flyboy. I'd understand if you were too tired."

"Oh, it's going to be like that, is it?" Feigning heartbreak, Tabraile clutched at his chest and thumbed the restraint from the holster. He squared his shoulders. When the wind shifted, the Socorran drew the heavy blaster and fired three times.

Anayera reignited the lightsaber and struck down the first bolt. Deflected by the blade, it ricocheted wildly into the skies above them. Pirouetting on her right foot, she went down to a knee and diverted a second bolt into the sand. Hard pressed to deflect the third, she met it just above the hilt of the saber. The bolt split in half and exploded in her face. She ducked to the desert floor to avoid the shower of sparks.

Tabraile sprinted to her. "Are you hurt?"

"Never better!" She stood up and dusted the sand from her rijani.

The other half of the stray ricochet hit a rocky escarpment a dozen meters away. Disturbing the wildlife lair, the blast frightened the winged creatures within, who took to the air in a panic.

"Look, Socorran Tailrings, and there's a black one leading the clutch." Tabraile pointed to the diminutive desert dragons. Led by the black leader, a gold one and two smaller browns darted across the sky toward the horizon.

"Are the black ones rare?"

"Very. Seeing a black Tailring in the wild is a sign of good luck. Quick, make a wish." He held her hand. "Are you wishing?"

She stood on tiptoe and kissed him. "Is it against the rules to ask what you wished for?"

Tabraile smiled down at her. "Things didn't end well between my brother and me. I regret that. Paquor mea is what the Bronwen say. I'm a broken thing. Never to be fixed. No matter how hard I try." He cradled her head against his chest and kissed her forehead. "I wished for peace. What did you wish for?"

"Somebody to die for. Someone who will mourn me when I'm no longer here in this world."

"A bit morbid, don't you think?"

"No. Because I don't deserve to be remember. Not after all the harm I've caused." Anayera kissed him and held tightly to his waist. "Guess that makes us both broken things."

                                            ~ ~ ~

Near dawn of the next day, Anayera found the Bronwen meditating in the front room. He was an elusive man, always nearby, on the periphery, but just beyond contact except when he wanted to be. A cool wind blew in from the desert through the open door and nearly doused the candles that burned away the darkness.

"Master Elba?"

Manipulating a mojle, Elba rolled the prayer beads between his fingers and opened his eyes. "I am no one's master, Anayera." He frowned at the doleful expression on her face and gestured for her to come closer. "You seem troubled, girl. Has my nephew's poor manners—"

"No, Tabraile ... Marric could not have been kinder to me, even when I was at my worst with him." She bowed her head. "I wanted to ask ... a personal question about—"

"His brother Levv?"

"Yes. He told me a little about him and their father, but I can't help feeling he's not telling me all of it."

"They were twins. Yes," he said, acknowledging her surprise. "Marric was born first, but there were complications with Levv. Complications that left my son's wife dead. He never recovered from her loss. To look at them was to see her eyes, so he spent most of his time off-world. A kind of death sentence for most Socorrans. I raised the boys in his absence."

"That had to be difficult."

"Being a parent, even a surrogate one, is not without its complications. Things came easily for Marric, but not so for Levv, who had to work so hard to hear the desert's voice." As the mojle's black beads rattled in his hand, Elba snuffed out one of the candles between his thumb and index finger. "For him the call was a distant whisper, scratching at the back of his mind. While for Marric, it was a roar that almost consumed him when Levv died." The old man stared into the shadows beyond the door. "He blames himself for what happened with Levv and his father, but it was not his fault. It was mine."

"Your fault? How?"

"There was a darkness in Levv from the beginning. A darkness that consumed him in the womb as he fought for life. In his confusion and out of desperation, he inadvertently killed their mother. That darkness only got stronger as the voice of the desert grew quieter and more distant in his ears."

"I'm not lost anymore, Master Elba. Today, when Tabraile took me to bid against the thunder, I heard the desert's voice." She fell to her knees at the shaman's feet.

"How did you answer her?"

Anayera held his hand. "I'm not afraid anymore. I'm ready to forge my destiny, whatever that might be."

Elba laid his hand on her cheek. Wrapping the mojle between her fingers, he closed his eyes and mumbled a prayer. "Doaba ol'val tru, Anayera Vannre. Go in peace and hope, and may the Force be with you."

                                       ~ ~ ~

Tossing restlessly beneath the sheets Tabraile jumped. His toes tingled and went numb from the electrical discharge RK-O9 used to shock him to consciousness. "Ouch! RK-O, what the hell are you doing!"

He reached for the pillow beside him, but Anayera was gone. Rubbing the sleep from his eyes, he glared at the droid. "Where is she?" He listened to the reluctant reply. "What do you mean she ordered you to send a transmission? To who? Jyaard!"

Tabraile leaped up from the bed. Tangled in the sheets, he went down over the side and crashed to the floor, but the urgency of the moment had him up and moving with purpose. Donning his pants in a hurry, he threw a clean shirt over his shoulders and stepped into one boot while hopping out the door with the other in his hand. "Elba!"

There was no answer. It was not unusual for the old man to go out on early morning walks. But as Tabraile raced outside, he saw two sets of tracks. Partially marred by the swirling hem of the shaman's robes, one set o footprints went east. The second pair was a smaller, lighter step and led to the underground outbuilding that served as a garage. Tabraile's speederbike was missing.

Spouting random coordinates, RK-O9 raced out of the house and bumped into the back of his heel.

"There's a tracker on the bike. We can find her using that." Tabraile picked up the droid and stowed him inside the storage compartment on the back of a CR-43 racing swoop. Hopping on the vehicle, he activated the sensors. "She's in the Doaba Badlands. Hang on back there." He spun out, scattering black sand across the back of the garage as he sped out of the compound and into the open desert.

Her three-hour lead into the Badlands was reduced to two, thanks to the powerful racing engines of the swoop. Filtered to prevent sand from disrupting its performance, the engine made a distinctive popping sound like kernels under pressure. Regardless of the vehicle's speed or the pilot's skill, Fate's cruel decree was written beneath the dawn skies above Socorro.

"Ana!" Tabraile screamed above the swoop's shrieking engines.

She was lying on her back at the top of the dune, as if sunning herself in the fierce morning haze. Tabraile sprinted up the dune to her side and fell to his knees. The black, telltale scorching of a lightsaber was evident. She was cut twice, vertically from her lower abdomen to her sternum. Her own lightsaber laid in the sand a few centimeters from her hand.

"Ana?" Tabraile whispered, leaning over her. It was difficult to see through the tears welling in his eyes. "Anayera?"

RK-O9 wailed loudly. The mouse droid rocked back and forth to free itself from the rear compartment. It fell upside down into the deep sand. Righting itself with its mechanical arm, the droid's high-pitched whistling began anew as it sputtered across the dune to her.

"RK-O9?" Anayera opened her swollen eyes. "Tabraile?" she said with a weak smile.

"I'm here." Noticing the mojle beads, he took her hand. It was cold, so he held it against his face and blew warm air through her fingers. "Why, Ana? Why would you bring him here? We were safe."

"No. We weren't. My uncle would have found me eventually, and then found you. I couldn't let that happen." She sighed. "We're free now."

Tabraile stretched out beside her and cradled her body against his in the sand. He kissed her forehead and then her lips. "Not exactly sure how you want me to feel right now."

"I've lived such an adventure in only a few days." She wiped a tear from his cheek. "This is my happily ever after."

"Ana, please."

"—and I got my wish. Doaba ol'val tru ..." Her hand fell across her still chest.

Bowing his head in sorrow, Tabraile kissed her a final time. Huddled against her body, he wrapped his fingers between hers and the mojle beads and wept as she grew cold in the sweltering sun.