Flicking a few grains of sand aside, Obi-Wan looked up at him sharply enough to give his apprentice an unexpected start. 'Only time will tell that, Anakin Skywalker. In storytelling, nothing is a given, the astonishing becomes commonplace, and one learns to expect the unexpected. But when people of understanding and goodwill come together, a happy ending is usually assured.'
The Padawan frowned uncertainly. 'I was speaking of story- telling, Master. Not reality.'
'One is but a reflection of the other, and sometimes it's difficult to tell which is the original and which the mirror image. There is much to be learned from stories that can't be taught by history.' Obi-Wan smiled. 'It's like making a cake. Much lies in the choosing of ingredients before the baking has even begun.' Before Anakin could comment again, Obi-Wan had turned back to the center of the gathering. 'We'll talk more about it later, if you like. For now, we need to show courtesy by giving our colleague Luminara the same kind of close attention as the Yiwa.'
Unsatisfied but understanding, Anakin turned away from his Master to where Luminara had taken center stage. It wasn't much of a stage, he knew. The lighting was bad, the floor un even, and one would flatter the audience by calling it unsophisticated, but she approached it as if it were the finest theater on Coruscant. She had spoken several times of feeling the chill carried by the wind that swept over the prairie, and so wore her long robes. Yiwa who had been astounded at Barriss's acrobatics, softened by Anakin's singing, and held spellbound by Obi-Wan's storytelling now waited and watched expectantly to see what the last of the visitors would do.
Luminara closed her eyes for a very long moment. Then she opened them and, kneeling, picked up a handful of sand. Straightening, she let it trickle out from between her fingers. Caught by the wind, the tiny grains formed a glittering whitish arc as they spilled from her hand. When she had emptied her palm, she slapped her hands gently together to brush away any remaining grains.
Some of the Yiwa began to stir. This polite acknowledgment of their environs was something the smallest children of the clan could do for themselves. There was merit in the recognition, but little in the way of enlightenment. Surely there was more to come!
There was. Kneeling again, Luminara picked up a second handful of sand, let it trickle from between her fingers. A few muted growls rose from the crowd. A concerned Barriss saw that Anakin was feeling the same confusion and uncertainty as herself. Nearby, Mazong frowned in disapproval. If anything, his advisers were even more discomfited. Only Obi-Wan appeared unwor-ried. That in itself, she knew, was significant of nothing. He always looked that way.
She found herself leaning forward and squinting. There was something different, something odd, about the dribble of sand spilling from her Master's fingers. It took her a moment to figure out what it was. When she did, despite what she knew of her Master's capabilities, her mouth opened slightly.
The sand was falling against the wind.
It was just ordinary beach sand, drawn from the shores of the nearby lake, but in the delicate yet strong fingers of the Jedi, it became something magical. The light from the surrounding glow-poles caught the falling grains, turning mica to mirrors and quartz into polished gems. When the last particles had fallen from Lumi-nara's fingers, they reversed direction. A few hushed cries of 'Raja!' rose, from the crowd as sand began to fall- upward.
Resembling a fragmented coil of wire, the column of grains began to wind itself around the Jedi, enclosing her in a slowly ascending spiral of sand. Like a serpent being born full grown, another column lifted itself from the ground to entwine her a second time. As the sparkling sand spirals rotated in opposite directions, they splintered into smaller and smaller threads, until Luminara was shrouded in multiple strings composed of shattered, water- worn specks. It was as if she were engulfed by thirty threadlike pillars of dancing diamonds.
She began to twirl, spinning slowly at first, balancing on one foot while the other pushed off and provided thrust. As she pirouetted, the glittering sand spirals responded, half turning with her, the other half rotating in the opposite direction. Though all was accomplished in complete silence, Barriss thought she heard music.
Faster and faster Luminara whirled, racing the rising sand. Centrifugal force threw the hem of her robes away from her legs. The spinning sands backed off accordingly. As she accelerated, her robes rose higher and higher.
A collective gasp erupted from the assembly. A blur of robes and sand, Luminara Unduli rose slightly from the ground. She continued to spin, her feet rising, until she was no more than a hand-length off the ground. Still rotating, she tilted forward, and began to spin and rotate simultaneously, holding her place in the air. It was as unique a demonstration of control over the Force as Barriss had ever seen, and certainly the most breathtaking.
Following her movements, the sand spirals rotated with her, until they formed a near-solid globe of shining, sparkling particles around the almost hidden body. There came a soft puff of air; the sound of a cloud exhaling. Luminara landed on her feet, hands outstretched, feet spread shoulder-width apart. The curtaining sphere of sand that had formed around her fell to the ground. Lowering her arms, she bowed her head once before walking back to rejoin her friends. As she resumed her seat, Obi-Wan inclined slightly in her direction.
'Okay, I'm impressed. How do you feel?'
'Dizzy.' Smiling softly, Luminara blinked several times. Otherwise, she betrayed nothing of what she was feeling internally.
'Please, Master-what is the secret of the rotating trick?' Barriss very much wanted to know.
Turning her head slightly to face the eager Padawan, Lumi- nara spoke through closely set lips. 'The trick, my dear, is not to throw up. At least, not until one is well offstage.'
There was no applause. No whistling, no hissing, no celebra tory cracking of joints. In ones and twos, alone and in family groups, the clan Yiwa simply rose from their seats and melted away, returning to their collapsible homes and ceremonial fires. A number of armed males headed for their guard posts, to take up the nocturnal watch for shanhs and other predators that might try to prey on the slumbering herds. Sooner than expected, only the visitors were left, together with Mazong and his advisers.
'The clan has hosted many recitals by many guests,' the chieftain of the Yiwa began, 'but never in living memory have any been so diverse, so unexpected, and so remarkable.'
'I didn't get a chance to show off my juggling,' Bulgan muttered disappointedly. Kyakhta jabbed him in the ribs.
Mazong ignored the aside, pretending not to have heard it. 'You have more than fulfilled your end of the bargain.' His gaze fastened on Luminara. 'I would give much to know how you did that.'
