Part 17 (2/2)

”Greti!” Teeba Sufi rounded on the girl. ”Hold your foolish tongue, child. Bohle is my business, I'll not have her meddled with by...”

Greti lifted her chin. ”No, Teeba, Bohle is my business. She's my blood and I'm hers and we're all there is. ” She pointed. ”Chance be he might heal her. Can you do that? You haven't so far. ”

”Listen to us, Greti, ” Teeba Sufi said, cajoling. ”You love your mother. We know. But this man's not to he trusted. He lied to us.

Came among us calling himself Yavid, calling himself Lanteeban. Him and that cousin. ” She whipped around. ”Are you that much not a liar? Do Jedi have cousins?”

”As Jedi count such things, Teeba, then Anakin is family, ” Obi-Wan said carefully. ”We did not come here to harm you. We did not come here on purpose at all, and when the storm clears we'll leave you. But until then I ask you, please, let me help. ”

Ignoring Sufi and Brandeh, Greti came forward and took his hand. ”Help me, ” she whispered. ”I don't want Bohle to die. ”

”Greti...”

”No, Teeba Sufi, ” the child said, tugging. ”I speak for her. I want this. And if he heals her, no harm done, then he can help Arrad. ”

Letting Greti pull him to her mother's unquiet side, Obi-Wan looked back at Sufi and Brandeh. ”I am sworn to oppose evil and protect the innocent. You have my word, Teeba Sufi, I'll not harm your patient. ”

”Your word?” Sufi spat on the dirt-smudged fl<x>r. ”What's the word of a proven liar worth? You claim you can help Bohle? Help her and I'll think twice on you. But if you can't, then Jedi or no Jedi, Torbel will have its revenge. ”

He nodded, accepting her challenge, then dropped to the stool beside the sick woman's cot. ”Greti... ” He held the child's hand a little more tightly. ”You know I can't promise anything. ”

The child's fear-shadowed eyes appraised him. ”You'll do your best, Teeb?”

”My very best. I swear it. ”

”I believe you, ” she whispered, then let go of his hand and sat cross-legged on the floor. ”I do. ”

The child had powerful Jedi instincts. ”You could help her, Greti. Let her know you're here. Let her know you love her. ”

Tears tipped onto her sunken cheeks. Nodding, she wrapped her small fingers around her mother's unhurt hand and raised it to her lips for a kiss. The simple gesture was such a profound declaration of love Obi-Wan had to busy himself with unwrapping the bandage covering Bohle's injury.

It was fearful. Swollen to nearly three times its normal size, Bohle's left hand was garish green and livid purple around a deep, putrescent laceration. The wound's primitive st.i.tches had burst, and it wept stinking pus. Fever had turned her blood to fire, scorching her skin and drying out her too-thin body. Poisonous infection streaked up her forearm and past her elbow, heading unchecked toward her shoulder. There were ghastly greenish tracings, damot.i.te's fingerprints in her flesh.

Obi-Wan felt a surge of misgiving. He had no formal training, no healing crystal to call on. All he had was desperation and a certain affinity for this work.

Ob, Vokara Che. How I wish you were here.

There was no use thinking of how tired he was already, no point in dwelling on all the things he didn't have or know. This woman was dying. She was Greti's only kin.

And if I can help her, they'll let me help all the others. What better way is there to show them the truth about the Jedi?

Fingertips resting on Bohle's fever-heated arm, he closed his eyes and let the Force take him under. The Force in Greti quivered in response. He breathed in. Breathed out. Found his precarious center.

75.”Greti, ” he whispered. ”Think of your mother's hand unharmed. Can you do that for me? Can you see it in your mind? The way it was before the accident?”

”Yes, ” she said, her voice small. ”I can see it. ”

”Hold that image, Greti. Relax your body. Release your fears. Feel yourself floating in a warm, safe place. See your mother's hand.

See her smiling instead of suffering. ”

Restless, breathing harshly, Bohle tossed her head on the pillow, her pain like a wildfire. Obi-Wail pressed his palm against her cheek and gently, inexorably, imposed his will upon her.

Hush, Bohle. Be at peace. Don't fight me. feel your daughter beside you. Feel her love. Let go of your terror. Let me in... let me in...

With a familiar, warm rush he felt himself plunge deeper into the Force, felt its power flood through him. Never knowing exactly how he did what he did, he made himself a conduit and let its mysterious strength soak into the sick woman's body. Dimly he heard Greti gasp as the Force stirred ever more strongly within her, instinct guiding her fledgling powers.

A slow, deep shudder racked Bohle head to toe.

Somewhere a woman shouted in protest. ”No. Stop. What are you doing ”I You're going to kill her. Stop!”

”Have no fear, ” he answered dreamily. 'No harm is being done. ”

He could feel the Force working through Bohle's sick body, grappling with the rampant infection. And then he was gasping as an echo of her sickness sounded through him, as he became a conduit for her pain. Heat scorched his blood. A vise closed around his skull. His hand burst into a bright and blinding anguish. He heard-felt-Greti whimper.

I'm sorry, Greti, but she needs you. Hold on.

This was a fight as vicious as any battlefield encounter. The infection was his enemy, Bohle's recovery his goal. Caught up in the struggle, he didn't care what it cost him, didn't care that it hurt him. He cared only to win.

Fight with me, Bohle. Don't give up.

If only he were a true healer. To have that power now, to know he could undo this awful infection as effortlessly as he could deflect a volley of blaster bolts...

Come on, Ken.o.bi. Make her better.

And then he felt it-the s.h.i.+ft, the change in Bohle's blood. It wasn't a cure, not completely-but it was change enough to give her a fighting chance. Pulling himself free of the Force, he saw that Bohle lay still now, her chest rising and falling slowly and steadily.

Then Greti, tears drenching her face, moaned and collapsed across her mother.

Teeba Sufi, with Brandeh beside her, pushed him aside. ”Get out of the way, Jedi. I want to know you've not harmed her. ”

He half tumbled, half slid off the stool and backed away. His left hand still hurt. Bohle's fever lingered in his blood. Teeba Brandeh scooped Greti into her strong arms and held the child close, letting the little one weep against her shoulder.

On her knees beside the cot, Teeba Sufi felt Bohle's cool forehead. Then she stared at the partly healed wound in the woman's hand and the clean, firm flesh of her arm. No trace of that greenish streaking poison remained. The village healer looked up, her brown eyes narrowed.

”She's mostly mended. ”

Obi-Wan nodded. ”I know. ”

Sufi s.h.i.+fted her gaze to Greti. ”What did the child have to do with it?”

”She... loves her mother, ” he said, circ.u.mspect. ”Love can be a powerful force for good, Teeba. ”

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