Alliances (Star Wars: Thrawn, #2)(38)

The river was about thirty meters across at this point, its surface about five meters below the tops of the banks on both sides. On one side, the side where Duja’s coordinates put the factory, all was darkness, while the other side showed hints of bright lights somewhere beyond the bank. Above, the stars blazed down, their twinkling occasionally interrupted by wispy clouds.

For a moment she looked back and forth between the banks, trying to decide what to do. The lighted bank was probably a town, where she might find food, warmth, and local clothing. On the other hand, more people also meant a better chance of being noticed, talked about, and captured.

Besides, she wasn’t here for her comfort. She was here to make sure Duja hadn’t died in vain. Fifty meters downstream she could see a copse of tall trees clustered along the river’s edge, trees that might have sent a few roots out through the edge of the bank where they could be climbed. Turning toward them, shivering so hard her teeth were chattering, she began to swim. She’d seen numerous fish moving past the pod’s viewport during the day, some of them as long as her arm. Hopefully, any disturbance she made would be attributed to one of them.

Even in the dim reflected light from the town behind her she could see at least a dozen gnarled roots twisting their way in and out of the dirt. Grabbing the lowest, she pulled herself out of the water and started to climb.

It wasn’t easy. The roots were wet, and the soil around them crumbled at her touch. But she’d done some rock climbing back in the Gallo Mountains, and this really wasn’t all that different. She reached the top and carefully eased her head up to look.

In the distance she could see a long, dark structure, two or three stories high, with castlelike turrets at the corners. Between her and it was rolling grassland and the hint of a deep cut in the ground, possibly a creek or syncline. She could see no sign of the metallic glint that might indicate droids, but in the faint light that didn’t necessarily prove they weren’t there.

Still, there was nothing to be gained by staying where she was. Pulling herself the rest of the way up onto the bank, she stood up, brushing a strand of hair back out of her eyes. She took a moment to map out her best approach, and started toward the building.

And gasped as a hand shot out from nowhere, grabbed her by one of her backpack’s straps, and hauled her sideways into the cover of the trees. “Get back here, you idiot,” a gruff voice breathed in her ear. “You want them to see you?”

A second later he abruptly pushed her back to arm’s length again, and she found herself gazing at a startled human face, bearded and wide-eyed, resting atop a thick neck and a stocky body. “Wait a second,” he said, his voice as surprised as his face. “You’re not Cimy.”

“Will you shut up?” a second voice called softly from deeper in the trees. “You want them to hear you?”

“I think they already did,” the man said, turning toward the voice. The movement dragged Padmé around with him. “Look—I found a spy.”

“I’m not a spy,” Padmé protested. “Ow—that hurts.”

“What?”

“Your knuckles,” Padmé said, wincing. “They’re digging into my shoulder.”

“Oh.” Instantly, the man let go. “Sorry.”

“Who are you talking to?” the second voice came. There was a rustle in the bushes around the trees, and a second man appeared, this one taller and less stocky but with a more impressive beard. “Whoa. Who the frost is this?”

“I thought it was Cimy,” the first man said apologetically. “He—”

“She, you idiot.”

“What?” The first man peered more closely at Padmé. “Oh. Right. She. Sorry. Anyway, she was standing out in the open and I thought it was Cimy—”

“Who thought who was me?” a third man cut in, stepping into view. He was shorter than the others, beardless but sporting a thin mustache.

Even in the dim starlight Padmé could see that he and the second man had a strong family resemblance. Brothers?

“I thought she was you,” the first man said patiently. “So I pulled her back out of sight—” He paused, turning back to Padmé. “You’re wet,” he said, frowning as he looked her up and down. “Were you in the river?”

“I was just out for a swim,” she said, trying to keep her teeth from chattering. The air, which had felt warm compared with the river water, was starting to chill her again. The steady breeze now that she was out of the shelter of the banks wasn’t helping, either.

“A swim?” the second man scoffed. “Yeah, right.”

“Okay, fine, I wasn’t swimming,” Padmé said. Cimy was holding something that looked like a fishing pole…“I was out fishing and my boat sank.”

“Are you crazy?” Cimy demanded. “Bad enough to be out at night in the first place—but in a boat? The scavs would have caught you for sure.”

“I suppose,” Padmé said. “Must be a lot safer up here in the trees.”

“That’s why we’re here and not someplace else,” the first man said. He peered at her again.

Then, to her surprise, he pulled off his jacket and wrapped it around her shoulders. “Here—you look cold. I’m LebJau, by the way. This is Huga and his brother Cimy—”