Obi-Wan extinguished his lightsaber and fell to his knees at Matio's side, quickly hauling the big, grey body off the boy. There was blood. Quite a bit of it. And some of it was definitely Matio's.

"Where are you hurt?" the Jedi asked breathlessly, not daring to touch the boy for fear of aggravating the injury.

Matio blinked up at him, rather too calmly. "It got my shoulder. Could have been worse. I mean, it was trying to kill me, after all."

Obi-Wan smiled grimly, trying to pull up the archer's dark blue tunic to get at the wound. It was the left shoulder—the fabric there was torn and bloodied, and he caught a glimpse of the ravaged flesh beneath it. Matio grimaced. "Hold, I'll get out of it myself."

His tunic was different than Obi-Wan's, than any garment the Jedi had seen. There were lacings at the neck, a crisscross pattern down the chest. With his right hand Matio loosened these, pulling out the neck of the tunic and carefully drawing it away from the injured shoulder, a hiss of pain escaping his lips. He folded the ripped fabric down, giving Obi-Wan a good look at the bite marks on his upper arm. The archer himself glanced at the shoulder, then turned his face away.

Obi-Wan swallowed. It looked nastily painful—not a simple cut as from a vibroblade, but a mess of puncture marks and gashes, as if someone had hit the boy with a spiked mallet. At least it wasn't bleeding too badly; no arteries had been ruptured, apparently.

Obi-Wan tore long strips from the hem of his Jedi robe, ignoring Matio's faint protests, and wrapped the shoulder as well as he could, trying not to pain the boy more. "I'm sorry, Matio. I let my guard slip. It's my fault you were hurt."

Matio's face creased in puzzlement. "You saved my life."

"And you saved mine, at least twice. No—more than that."

"Then how many times did you save mine?" The boy grinned suddenly, that same sunny smile, strangely bright against the paleness of his face, the pain around his eyes. "I'd say we're about even, wouldn't you?"

Obi-Wan laughed. "Yes, I suppose we are." He tied off the rough bandage with gentle firmness, hoping it would hold. "Do you think you can walk? There ought to be some medical supplies in the escape pod, and I can tend it better. It might get infected if we don't put some antibiotic salve on it. Who knows what kind of diseases those creatures were carrying."

Matio's face creased in puzzlement again, apparently at words he did not understand, but he nodded quickly. "I can walk. It's just my shoulder."

Obi-Wan helped the smaller boy to his feet. Despite his brave words the young archer swayed, face paling further. Wordlessly, Obi-Wan put his shoulder under Matio's good arm, wrapping his arm around the slender torso.

Then he stared around the small clearing littered with furry grey bodies, panic suddenly rising in his throat. He had gotten out of sight of the pod. Qui-Gon had warned him not to get out of sight of the pod. The running and the fight had turned him around, and he didn't know where he was.

"That way." Matio lifted his left forearm, careful not to move the shoulder, and pointed across and to Obi-Wan's right. "What did you call it? The escape pod? It's that way."

Obi-Wan nodded tightly, in relief, and led them away, threading a path between the fallen bodies, trying not to jar the other boy's shoulder. Slowly they made their way through the forest to the pod, occasionally pausing as Matio took stock of the area, then pointed again. They were farther away than Obi-Wan had thought, and by the time they reached the area of trees splintered and undergrowth crushed by the fall of the pod, Matio's steps were faltering and twilight-grey was beginning to steal over the world.

Obi-Wan carefully lowered Matio down to sit next to the pod, then slipped inside. He found an emergency med kit and a bottle of water. The comm caught his eye and he stared wistfully at it for a moment, wanting to tell Qui-Gon of his adventure, of this strange boy and the battle they had fought, but he couldn't risk draining the power more. Tentatively he reached out through the bond, but they were still too far apart for words. He sent the older Jedi a burst of excitement, energy, I-have-something-to-tell-you jitteriness, and Qui-Gon replied with patience, affection, I'm-coming-to-get-you confidence. Obi-Wan grinned and hurried out into the deepening evening.

Matio was shivering, his face grey, eyes dilated. Obi-Wan frowned. The injuries weren't terribly serious, but shock could kill the boy. He pulled the archer's cloak around him, then took off his robe and covered him with that, too. Matio's slender fingers gripped the double thickness and pulled it to his chest. He tried to smile at the Jedi, and did not succeed at all well. "Fire," he whispered.

"What?" Obi-Wan asked.

"Need . . . a fire."

Obi-Wan nodded. He surveyed the area critically. The ground beside the pod was blackened by the burst of fire from the landing jets, and the vegetation around was green and moist. No hazard of forest-fire, then. He hurried into the trees, intending to gather as much dry wood as he could while the light lasted.

He had brought back two armfuls and was hurrying back with a third when the first faint flames licked the grey twilight, bright and comforting. Matio had not waited for him to use the fire-starting rod, but had gotten the fire going on his own, Obi-Wan didn't know how. He set the wood down in their small stockpile and looked it over assessingly. It might last the night. If not, he would get more.

Matio sat by the fire, now blazing quite well. His face looked better in the warm light, more relaxed, and his eyes seemed clear again. He looked up at Obi-Wan, not shivering, not clutching the robe and cloak to himself anymore.

Obi-Wan crouched beside him. "How did you get it going?"

The young archer gave him a puzzled glance. "How does anyone start a fire? Flint." He showed Obi-Wan the two rocks in his hand, dark and hard, chipped from striking each other.

The Jedi had read about that kind of thing, but didn't think any planet, even those farthest out on the Outer Rim, still used such methods. "Can you show me? I've never seen it before."

Matio held one flint rock firm in his left hand and struck it with the other, holding both at a certain angle so that sparks flew off. "You have to start with some kind of tinder, like shredded bark or dried grass, then add twigs, then larger pieces, until you build it up big enough for the logs. I've built many, many fires out in the woods, though I know some townsfolk who have never done it once."

Obi-Wan nodded and settled back into a sitting position, his back against the metal side of the pod. He realized that Matio had an accent he'd never heard, not in any of his travels. It was a pleasant lilt, light and easy on the ears. He wondered if Qui-Gon would know it. "Do you need to get back to your parents or anything? I didn't even think of that when I decided to bring you back to the pod, and it took a lot longer than I thought it would. Will you get in trouble for staying out in the woods all night?"

Matio smiled, though Obi-Wan was not sure he understood all of the humor in that small, narrow face. Slowly, he shook his head. "My mother is dead, and my father disowned me. The Seeker is my family now, and I don't know where he is right now."

"The Seeker?"

"Yes. Seeker Wari." Matio's eyes seemed to lose focus, staring away into the fire. "Wari. He is my guardian and teacher. I am his apprentice. Someday I'll be a Seeker, too."

Obi-Wan's mind swirled with questions. He decided to take it slowly, one step at a time. "What is a Seeker?"

Matio chuckled softly, his eyes nostalgic, far away. "Oh, many, many things. We are warriors, but also teachers, lawmen, diplomats, and healers. Wanderers. We go where we are needed, and sometimes we must fight very hard to do what needs to be done."

Obi-Wan grinned widely. "That sounds a lot like a Jedi."

"Yes, I wondered about those strange words. You are a Jedi . . . Padawan? Was that the word you used?"

The Padawan nodded. "It means apprentice. I am a Jedi apprentice. We, too, are warriors, but much more often, we only try to keep the peace."

"That is right. That's the way the High King would want it."

"My master's name is Qui-Gon Jinn," Obi-Wan continued, unconsciously hugging himself. "We were separated when our starship crashed, but he's coming to find me."

"Starship?" Matio's voice was soft, dreamy. "I saw you fall from the sky, but I didn't realize you were among the stars. A ship that sails the stars. That must be marvelous."

Obi-Wan glanced sharply at the other boy. He was still pale, nodding, leaning bonelessly against the pod. "I'd better take care of your shoulder now. I hope you don't get a fever or anything."

He moved to Matio's left side, picking up the med kit, pressing the water bottle into the boy's limp hands. "Drink. Your body needs fluids."

Matio drank absently. He let Obi-Wan peel away the robe, then the cloak, then gently pull the tunic over his head. The rough bandage was soaked through with blood, and some of it had dried, sticking to the skin. Obi-Wan sucked in a breath when he tried to move it, realizing that this was going to be harder than he'd thought. Matio flinched but did not try to pull away, his gaze still on the fire.

Obi-Wan took the water back and carefully poured some on the bandage, trying to loosen it gently. "How did you get separated from your master, this Seeker Wari?" he asked, hoping to take the boy's mind off the pain. "He must be looking for you."

"It's a long story," Matio said quietly. He drew his knees up to his chest and wrapped his good arm around them. "But yes, I'm sure he's doing everything in his power to find me."

"Long story, huh?" Obi-Wan said lightly, trying again with the bandage. A corner came up at his questing tug, peeling away slowly. "Well, here we are by a fire. Long stories are always best told by fires."

Matio turned his head and laid his cheek on his knees, looking at Obi-Wan frankly. His eyes were clear, lucid. "You're probably in danger, just being with me. I shouldn't have let you bring me back here. Solma won't care that you had nothing to do with it. If you're with me, he'll do the same to you."

Obi-Wan blinked in confusion. "I think you skipped some of the story," he said, keeping his tone light. The bandage was started to come up, now. He turned his eyes back to it, still keeping his ears open to Matio. "Who is Solma, and why are you in danger from him?"

Matio still stared fixedly at Obi-Wan's face. He was quiet for a long time, and the young Jedi felt himself begin to blush. At last he turned his eyes back to the archer's, trying not to sound exasperated. "What is it? What do you see?"

"Your face is different," Matio whispered. He bit his lip. He still looked pale and drawn, but the distress seemed to be mental now, rather than physical. "Everything here is different. I knew he had taken me to a different world, but I guess it's more than that. I'm not even in my own universe anymore."

Obi-Wan sat suddenly, his hand falling away from the shoulder, and stared back just as intensely. "You're from another universe? There's more than one universe? How . . . how do you know? What do you see in my face? How did you get here?"

Matio didn't even smile at the hurried, somewhat inarticulate questions, and that struck Obi-Wan as being a bad sign. "Of course there's more than one universe. We've always believed that there are two, or at the most, three, but it appears that we were wrong. This one is entirely outside the knowledge of my planet. Which is called Madra, by the way. Just thought you might be interested."

Obi-Wan nodded mutely.

"My world is very different from yours, obviously. More primitive, you might say. Listening to you talk can be enough to make my head want to burst. Too many new ideas, too quickly."

Obi-Wan grinned wryly. "I think I know the feeling."

Matio nodded slowly. Obi-Wan suddenly noticed the deep weariness in the lines of his face, the slump of his shoulders, and realized that it had been there all along.

"What happened to you?" the young Jedi asked quietly. "I can tell you're in trouble. Is there anything I can do?"

Matio turned his eyes against his knees with a soft sigh. "You're already doing a lot. Thank you."

Obi-Wan continuing staring at him for a moment longer, then went back to peeling away the bandage. He hoped the boy would continue talking when he felt a little stronger, but he didn't want to push. Matio was obviously in a lot of pain, and not all of it was from his wounds.

And then, as the bandage came away from the top of the younger boy's shoulder, Obi-Wan noticed the scars on his back. They were old, deep, thin ridges caused by some kind of whip, and there were a lot of them. He sat back with a gasp, his eyes searching out Matio's face. Another scar marred his left cheek, newer, slightly hooked and curling. And there, on the side of Matio's chest—it was the outline of a belt buckle.

"Matio . . ." he began, and couldn't finish.

The boy laughed softly, bitterly, and turned to look at the young Jedi again. Unshed tears glittered in his eyes. "I knew you would notice sooner or later. Why did I let you help me? Of course you would see—how could you not? Treating my shoulder. Of course you saw. I must be tired of hiding it, to let you see without even trying to push you away."

"Oh, Matio," Obi-Wan whispered. What could he say in the face of this raw agony?

"My father," the young archer said quickly. "It was my father. Don't think evil thoughts about Seeker Wari. He would never hurt me. He rescued me from that, gave me hope and purpose again. He never asked me to call him 'master,' because he knows that I was my father's slave for seven years. He is 'Seeker,' to me. My personal Seeker. My rescuer and healer. It is strange to hear you call your Jedi 'master' so easily, without fear. That's what really makes my head want to burst."

Obi-Wan's mind reeled. This was why Matio wouldn't let him pull up the tunic earlier. This was why his smile came so rarely, and was so beautiful when it did. This was why Obi-Wan had sensed pain in him as soon he saw him: anguish, secrets, mysteries—and intense, fire-hardened strength of will.

"Matio." Not knowing what else to do, Obi-Wan touched his head, those thick, golden-brown curls. Through all the sadistic megalomaniacs, Qui-Gon had taught him a lot about dealing with pain, about turning torment into triumph. How could he pass that on to this hurting boy, his new friend, so lost in old betrayal? "Maybe you trust me. We fought back to back, we saved each other several times—maybe that's why you let me see. I'm glad you did. Sorry this happened to you, but glad you let me see."

Matio shuddered, and that seemed to release some of his pain, letting it flow away into the darkness, so deep and complete outside the circle of light from their fire. He relaxed, his head laying limply on his knees. "Trust is hard," he whispered. "I'm still learning."

Obi-Wan nodded. "That's all right. It will get better. I know it."

Matio nodded slightly, still not looking at him. After a moment Obi-Wan went back to working on the shoulder, and this time he took it upon himself to talk, to fill the silence and drive away the shadows, telling the smaller boy exactly how he knew that it would get better.

He told him about the sadistic megalomaniacs.