11th June will see the arrival on shelves of Temptation of the Force the latest chapter of the third phase of The High Republic from author Tessa Gratton, and this first excerpt see Avar Kriss and Elzar Mann deep in conversation. Avar Kriss walked quietly down the corridor of the Jedi Temple, a ceramic bottle of sourstone mead in one hand, a box of kelÂdov nut pastries in the other. When she reached Elzar Mann’s quarÂters, she paused, tucking the liquor under her arm, and flattened her palm to the cool metal door. In most of the Temple, the song of the Force flowed peacefully, easily. This place was no exception. She pushed her awareness outÂward, reaching for her friend. He was in there. A small smile played on her lips, but before she could knock, the door slid open. Elzar was scratching at his beard, but his hand fell away at the sight of her. “Avar.” “Elzar.” Her smile faded into something soft and expectant. “I’m leaving in the morning.” “I know.” That was all he said, staring at her. Avar waited, studying the thin lines of stress at his eyes, the way those eyes focused on her, unblinking. His beard had grown full, though he kept it trimmed shorter than Stellan’s had been. He wore only the innermost layer of his temple robes — white tunic and white pants — and his feet were bare. When he noticed her glance down, he moved his toes against the thin carpet. “Can I come in?” she asked. She wanted to add, The last time I left you, I did it badly. I don’t want to leave without you again. Without us. “Of course.” Elzar backed up and Avar followed, pushing the pastry box against his stomach. “Are these from Tal-Iree’s?” he said in a hushed tone. Avar grinned. “It’s exactly where it used to be, down that alley in the Jadeite neighborhood.” “I’ll get plates.” Elzar hummed a little in pleasure as he went to the corner cabinet. “And cups.” Avar set the mead on the floor, then removed her boots and hung up not only her cloak, but the outermost gold layer of her robes as well. After a second thought, she took off her belt and lightÂsaber, too. In the six weeks she’d been back from Nihil-occupied territory, she hadn’t grown used to the layers of appropriate Jedi attire again. She embraced the Temple uniform for what it symbolized, though: being a part of a whole, a melody in a great symphony. It was unfortunate that this new mission would require her to remove it. Meanwhile Elzar had always hated the formal robes, and he wore them every day now. They’d both had to adjust. Avar bent, stretching her hamstrings and calves, and grabbed the liquor. “There are three buns,” Elzar said suddenly. She looked up, startled. He stood at the counter, where two small plates and cups were stacked on a dark tray, and looked down into the open pastry box. Avar swallowed. “When I walked into the shop, I was so overÂwhelmed. It smells exactly the same, the menu is the same, the eat-in stools are just as chipped, that old painting over the pickup counter is the same. I ordered what I always ordered without thinking, and when I realized, I couldn’t bring myself to make any corrections.” Elzar nodded and put all three buns onto the tray. When he turned to her, he was smiling sadly. “Already making yourself at home, I see,” he teased. “The mess in here is too familiar not to,” she teased back. Elzar’s quarters were as basic as any in the Temple, except the small table, low bed, meditation platform, and every built-in shelf were covered in odds and ends. Mostly machinery, tools, pieces of computers, and datapads. Some rags and robes were tossed over the back of the sole chair. Avar nudged a pile of what looked like scraps of droid plating away from the foot of the bed and plopped onto the rug. She leaned against the bed and unstoppered the jug of mead while Elzar joined her. She busied herself by pouring for them. “Did you water it down?” Elzar asked. “Pinkapple juice,” she said lightly. Locating some had been the reason she was in the Jadeite neighborhood in the first place. Cutting the sourstone mead had always been for Stellan’s sake, when they were fifteen and goofing off. Not because he opposed the alcohol, but to sweeten the flavor. With full cups, they saluted each other and drank. It wasn’t as good as when they were kids — probably because they weren’t getting away with anything anymore. They hadn’t had any idea what was to come back then. Of course, nobody ever did, but when she was a teen, Avar had thought she’d be an exception. She, Elzar, and Stellan: all exceptional. She’d been right, in a way. [amazon box="0593723090"]
