"The Games must proceed smoothly," Bog added. "Absolutely."

Anakin barely heard their voices. His brain had started to buzz as soon as he'd heard the word Podrace. He hadn't seen or been in one since he was a slave on Tatooine.

It was as though the thick clouds overhead parted, for suddenly he felt the blow of the hot suns of Tatooine on the back of his neck. He could taste the grit of sand between his teeth. And he could feel the rise of the same fierce desire that had filled him as a young boy, the simplest, most powerful feeling he knew: the will to win.

Anakin felt his Master's eyes on him, as though the surge of feeling had touched Obi-Wan like a warning finger. A mask of serenity dropped over Anakin's face. He could call it up at will for times such as this, times when his blood seemed to race closer to his skin.

Liviani was speaking, and Obi-Wan turned back to her. Anakin kept his expression calm but interested, Like a Jedi would be. But inside… inside he was a slave boy, on fire to race again.

Chapter Three

Does he really think he's fooling me?

Obi-Wan's exasperation with his Padawan did not show on his face.

Anakin's attempts to hide his excitement may have tricked the others, but Obi-Wan felt it charge the air. He had never seen Anakin compete in a Podrace, and Qui-Gon had not given him many details, but he knew how outrageously dangerous Podracing was. Pilots sat in open cockpits, racing fragile crafts that were powered by massive engines tethered to the racer by flexible cables. Obi-Wan could imagine that the prospect of Anakin once again pitting his skills and reflexes and daring in such a race would be irresistible.