Don't worry, Cerasi5, those words were definitely not addressed to you. Thank you reviewing ;)

Thanks, TallyG. Keep reading, I promise it'll get more interesting. And poor kid already got enough without you smacking him :D

Maygin, thank you again for the long review, you seem to like writing them :) And I like reading them. Just to make it clear: Tarlott "this dude at the devils house" is its owner ;) As for spiders, you know, I hate them, too. Yes, Anisa is in conflict indeed. We'll see where she comes with it in the end.

Thank you, Harriet. And I'm going to provide you with more.

~*~*~*~*~

Sitting at a spaceport, waiting for the right ship to arrive was like being in hell. Anisa drummed her fingers on the arms of her chair impatiently and bit her lip. Why was it taking this long? She glanced at a wall chrono. As if to mock her, the chrono showed that two minutes have passed since the last time she checked. She growled quietly.

The ex-Jedi should arrive soon. She just needed to wait a little longer. How long?! Where the hell is he? She suddenly noticed that she had leapt up from her chair in her impatience. She sighed and sunk back into the chair. The wait was eating away at her nerves that were already quite frazzled from her inability to get to Obi-Wan immediately.

People were giving her weird looks. Apparently she didn't look too good, but that was the least of her concerns. She noticed a group of little girls pointing their fingers at her and made a face at them. They giggled though she was feeling far from laughing. A woman came to the group of girls, throwing wary glances at Anisa, apparently worried by the somewhat insane twinkle in her eyes. The woman gathered few bags and led the girls away.

Two more minutes have passed. She rubbed her forehead angrily. She was almost ready to attack someone just to stop this boring endless waiting.

"Are you waiting for me?"

A voice from behind startled her. She quickly turned to look at its owner. A human male with blond hair and steely-gray eyes. She once fell for him but quickly learned to not mess with him. A dangerous person.

"What took you so long?" she almost snapped. Then seeing his eyes narrowing dangerously, she quickly schooled her features into a pleasant smile. "Glad to see you again, Chebura." Yes, Chebura Snadi was definitely not a person to cross. He smiled back at her thinly.

"So what was this business you wanted to discuss?" he asked, slipping his arm around hers and starting to walk toward the spaceport's exit.

"I heard rumors that you wanted to find an apprentice," she replied vaguely.

"So what if those rumors were true?" he asked in kind.

"Supposedly I have a candidate for this role."

"Hm, and what do you want in exchange?" He looked at her suspiciously.

"I need to get to a young man, who is at the hospital right now. The problem is his Jedi Master and another apprentice guard him. How you call them… ah, Padawans. You get that other Padawan and I get the one I need." She was a little wary telling him this. After all, she wasn't all that sure he was trustworthy. But she was desperate to get to Obi-Wan, and so she was willing to take the risk.

"Your offer seems rather… interesting to me. Let's see what I can do."

Anisa could see a sparkle of interest and something - glee, maybe - glow in his steely eyes. Together, they got into an air taxi that took them to the hospital.

****************

Qui-Gon was still wondering how he'd managed to persuade Rahe Tarlott to come with him. At first the man had been very reluctant to leave his establishment, saying he knew nothing and wanted to have nothing to do with anything. But eventually he agreed to go with the Jedi, insisting that they take his own air car, refusing to hire an air taxi.

Qui-Gon glanced at the man, who was sitting next to him on the back seat of the car painted blue and yellow. Tarlott was a man appearing to be in his early thirties. This surprised Qui-Gon, who had been expecting an old professor with a devilish appearance, considering all that he had heard about the place and Tarlott himself. The old man, who had volunteered to show Qui-Gon the way to the Woland's House, took it upon himself to fill the Master in on the local rumors concerning the infamous madhouse. In the man's words, Tarlott was the devil's servant, who took some of his patients and ate them. Of course, Qui-Gon didn't believe any of these for a second. Even when the old man pointed out to him that some of the patients mysteriously disappeared at times.

Tarlott seemed to be a little shy, with his hands shivering out of nerves. He had large gray restless eyes - they never seemed to stop moving. His head, which had a form of an egg, was covered with a thick cap of tousled dark hair. He wasn't tall, and could easily be confused with an adolescent. He made an impression of an eccentric person. When Qui-Gon asked him why his madhouse was called so - it couldn't be because the man liked all the rumors about himself and his establishment - Tarlott said that in a way it was some sort of a joke. Qui-Gon only shrugged.

At first he had wanted to get rid of the Jedi Master as quickly as possible. But, apparently he had some compassion in him, and it had eventually won. Now the man's personal driver was flying the blue and yellow car through the dense but strictly regulated lines of traffic. The driver obviously knew the city well for they soon reached their destination. Much sooner than it took the air taxi driver to get to that district. Qui-Gon noted.

They entered the room where Obi-Wan lay unconscious, to find everything to be the same as it had been when Qui-Gon left. His heart contracted painfully when he looked at Obi-Wan. The boy seemed to be sleeping. Qui-Gon caught himself expecting the padawan to open one sleepy eye and say something like: "Just one more minute, Master." He often did that in the morning. But the unnatural pallor of the boy's face, his still features, drawn in a slumber of near-death, visibly reminded Qui-Gon of the treacherous situation.

Kamon shifted his eyes, full of worry, up to look into Qui-Gon's. The Master did all he could to appear hopeful and reassuring. On the inside, however, he was afraid to let his hopes soar, afraid they would be squashed. No, he wouldn't let himself think that.

Tarlott crossed the room to the bed and looked Obi-Wan over with an expert eyes.

"You are very lucky, Mr. Jinn," he said, visibly satisfied with his examination. "It is very unusual for a victim of a soulhunter to live this long. You are very, very lucky…"

Seeing that the man could go on forever, Qui-Gon interrupted him. "Do you know how to help him?" he asked, somewhat impatiently. Kamon glanced at the older Jedi then fixed his eyes on Tarlott.

"Yes, I can help him," Tarlott said confidently. "But I can't guarantee anything. He might be too far gone," he added hastily.

"Then do what you can." Qui-Gon started to loose his patience. Here was the man who could help, yet he was wasting time talking.

"Of course, of course. But I need you to go out of the room. All of you." He swept his eyes over the two Jedi and Namira.

Kamon rose from his seat near the bed. The girl followed suit. Qui-Gon fixed a hard stare on Tarlott.

"Don't you harm him." A note of warning slipped into his voice. He wanted to trust the man but found that he could not. Tarlott seemed to cringe under the Master's stare.

Walking past Tarlott, Qui-Gon made his way to the bed. He took in the still form of his apprentice, as though trying to memorize each feature. He gently brushed Obi-Wan's hair and leaned to kiss him on the forehead. Tears brimmed in his eyes, and he felt his throat tighten.

"Obi-Wan, please, don't leave me," he whispered with a hoarse voice. Straightening, he turned and left the room, knowing that Kamon and Namira were following him.

Once the door closed behind him, he sank heavily into the chair, determined to wait as long as needed. Kamon looked at him worriedly.

"He will be fine, right?" he asked, somewhat shakily. Qui-Gon turned to regard him.

"Right," he said after a moment of silence. A thought flashed in his mind.  Why is it always Obi-Wan? There are two padawans of the same age, almost equal. But it's Obi-Wan who gets hurt. Why?  But there was no answer. Ashamed by the thought, Qui-Gon quickly banished it. What would have changed if it were Kamon who got hurt? Surely Qui-Gon didn't wish such fate befall another. He just wished it didn't befall his own padawan, either.

Qui-Gon's mind turned to memories he had about Obi-Wan and himself. He remembered Obi-Wan's smile. When they just started on the road as a Master and a Padawan, the smile had been timid, probing. Now, it was open and bright. Whenever it appeared, it shed light on everything like a sun. He remembered their missions; and their free time together. They were so much more than just Master and apprentice. They were a family…

A sharp, stabbing pain brought Qui-Gon out of his reverie. He gasped for breath, feeling the Force and his heart scream at him in alarm.

"Obi-Wan!"

Qui-Gon climbed onto his feet shakily when a new wave of pain overtook him. Then something strained inside him and snapped with a thundering ringing. Swaying on his legs Qui-Gon dashed to the adjoining room. He rushed through the door as a whirlwind.

"What happened?" he roared.

Surprise showed briefly on Tarlott's face - Qui-Gon couldn't know that something was wrong - but it was quickly replaced by fear, bordering with panic.

"I… I… He… err…" Tarlott mumbled, trying to back away from the furious Master.

"What have you done?"

**********************

Pain. Why was he still feeling pain? He should have long since blacked out. But the merciful darkness of oblivion was lurking somewhere on the periphery of his consciousness, sticking its tongue out at him, mocking him. He would have embraced it gladly - he would have done anything - to get rid of this horrible agony that his body and soul were submerged into. He wished he could die right now just to stop the torture that was tearing apart every cell of his body.

He would have cried, but he didn't have the strength to do even that. Silently, he pleaded the Force to stop it. Maybe the Force heard his pleas - or maybe it was something else entirely - but the pain started to lessen. He breathed hungrily, feeling the strain leave his body and consciousness

The pain had subsided and after a short time disappeared completely, leaving only a memory of the agony he had been through. Obi-Wan opened his eyes to find out that all he could see was thick gray mist, flowing around him, swirling around without a break. He blinked a few times, trying to clear his vision, but it proved to be futile, for there was nothing to see in the land of emptiness.

 Where am I?  he wondered, turning around slowly. Still, all he saw was that heavy mist: thick like a cloak, moving, almost alive.  Gray. What a pleasant colour, indeed.  From his early childhood Obi-Wan had strongly disliked gray colour, though he could never understand why. Now it seemed like someone had stolen this little bit of information out of his mind to laugh at him.  Very funny.  He thought sardonically, feeling unnerved, but trying to hide it - although there was no one to hide it from, no living form, except… Obi-Wan squinted suspiciously at the mist.

He strained his senses, trying to find anything here, anything at all.  It can't be just emptiness. Surely, there must be something out here.  Then he felt it. It took him some time to realize what he was feeling. He could feel a link - an old one - connecting him to his Master - initiated a long time ago, but alive and vibrant in the sticky depths of the mist. Strangely enough, he could not only feel it like he always had.

He could see it now - a woven thread of glowing matter, almost substantial. Shimmering warm, stretching from the place he stood far into the mist. But he knew without any doubt that it was connected to Qui-Gon on the other end. The knowledge soothed him like a cool wind on a hot day.

Suddenly his ears perked. What was that sound? With a surprise he realized that he could hear the bond. It produced a low, barely audible hum, incoherent yet melodic in its own way, filling the place - otherwise devoid of sound - with gentle music. It reminded him of Qui-Gon's voice, the voice he could have heard through the bond. But the bond was blocked now. He had blocked it, and, though he missed Qui-Gon's intense and vivid presence in his mind greatly, he didn't regret blocking the bond. He smiled, listening to the bond's singing. Yes, it was singing to him, singing of care and love. He would tell Qui-Gon the bond was singing… that is if he ever saw him again. His smile faded, a frown taking its place.

Then he felt another bond. Stepping cautiously onto the ground that he could not see, he came to the bond, scrutinizing it carefully. This one was new. It didn't glow like the bond with Qui-Gon, and, by its appearance, it looked like made of paristeel. It didn't produce any sound. Obi-Wan reached out to touch it, but quickly drew his hand back as angry cold pierced his skin. He was not aware he had a connection like this.  Who might it lead to?  He wondered. As if on cue, a name popped up in his mind: Anisa. This bond connected him to her. He shivered.

He was still scrutinizing the bond, trying to figure out how to disconnect it, when something imperceptible changed. The change was so subtle that he didn't notice it at first. But then…

A roar filled his ears, impudently demanding his attention. Obi-Wan looked around in alarm to see the mist starting to swirl aggressively, reminding him of a snake readying itself to attack. Black turbulence appeared around the steely bond, licking at it, swaying in a dangerous motion. Obi-Wan watched, hypnotized.

The bond writhed under the black tendrils of unknown power, and then, with a deafening crash, it broke. A sudden wind knocked Obi-Wan down, and he tumbled backwards. Shakily he rose to his feet to find with horror that now the black tendrils were licking at the bond with Qui-Gon.

"No!!!" He cried, running to it in a desperate attempt to do something.

But it was too late. Wild, uncontrollable wind knocked him down again as the bond tore with a shout that sounded almost like Qui-Gon's. And then… then the tendrils reached for him. He backed away from them, trying unsuccessfully to get onto his feet. But the relentless tendrils of swirling black power reached him, enveloped him in their dark embrace. The world stopped to exist.

****************