Smoke and static

Mud.

The earthy-rich smell of it; decay and water and roots.

The scent of blood.

A chill wind rustled past. It carried whispers.

"...we're not going to make it out of here..."

"...will not allow it..."

He shivered, aware of a cold that chilled to the bone.

"...too late..."

"...she will save us..."

His eyes were open, but the world was nebulous black and grey, shifting shadows in his vision.

One focal point of warmth, a hand resting on his back, was like a furnace. Everywhere else was bitterly cold.

As his body shuddered again with shivers, the hand disappeared. Cloth shifted across his shoulders, tucked in against his chest with careful fingers. The comforting weight of the hand settled again on his shoulder.

Ben cast out with sluggish senses, trying to make sense of the uncertain world around him. He could hear barks and howls, distant but too close for comfort. He should get up, arm himself, be ready for an attack. But his body was numb and empty, no longer his to command. Even breathing seemed a colossal, insurmountable effort. So he just lay on his side unmoving, staring dully at the only thing his eyes could focus on; his own pale hand curled loosely on the dark earth.

"Any change?" a voice murmured somewhere distant. There was no answer, but movement at his side. Warm fingers wrapped around his own ice-cold ones, and Pakat's face swam into his field of vision, blurred and indistinct through the darkness.

"Ben? Can you hear me?"

He lacked the strength to answer, but blinked, slowly. Pakat's expressive face tightened with concern, and he smoothed down the blankets Ben was wrapped in.

"You will be alright." The Kheelian said softly, comfortingly, but he looked up at another Kheelian standing beside him with an anxious glance. "I will be back over when I can." Pakat gave a quick, worried smile, and disappeared back into the night.

Ben spent several moments fighting against the crippling weakness. Summoning all his strength, he managed to mouth Nenka's name. He repeated it five or six times but no-one seemed to understand he was trying to talk.

"It is all right," Yanto, who was sitting at his side, murmured soothingly.

Ben closed his eyes for a moment, trying to work out what had happened. He didn't remember much after pushing his hands wrist-deep into Nenka's blood, and then hurling himself into the current of the Force. Snatches of image and sensation. The control of his will, taut as a bow string, all fuelled by an iron determination that no-one dies today, you hear me, no-one else dies, and then he had been pouring himself, his own life-force into those shredded cells, infusing the tissue and vessels with life and healing, forcing the sinews together. He had had no concept of what he was doing, except that it was intoxicating, mesmerising. Only a distant echo of a voice had broken the spell. Enough! By the Force, you'll kill yourself! From the feel of his body, he almost had.

He was jolted back into awareness by Dega crouching down by his head. "I have some tea here," she was saying to Yanto. "It would be better hot, but he should probably drink something anyway. Can you get him to sit up? I think he may choke otherwise."

The two Kheelians easily lifted Ben's listless form into a sitting position, leaning him back again the stump of the tree. Too weak to even raise his own head, Yanto cradled Ben's skull gently while Dega tipped the flask against his mouth. Then his head was rested back towards his shoulder, and Yanto cocooned him in his blankets. The tea had been welcome, but what Ben desperately needed right now was food. He felt hollowed out, his energy reserves destroyed, but there was no way to communicate that. Instead, Ben watched the Kheelians, trying to gage their current situation. They looked uncertain and unnerved, but not actively afraid. Safe for now, then.

From his new vantage point, even with his limp head falling to the side, Ben could see a little more. Several metres away was a small mound of the Kheelians' backpacks. Beyond, in the distance, was a lake of light where the lanterns the Kheelians had brought were standing. The circle of lamplight illuminated three large shapes that must be Grandmother, Pakat and Kerra. Beyond them were dark, uneven, undulating shadows, which could only be the pack of narms. Ben reached for his powers to check for a warning of danger, but he came up empty. The power was still there, flowing around him like a flood, but he himself was as insubstantial as smoke and his grasp faltered. His head echoed with nothing but formless static. He was cast adrift.

Time passed, and Ben's awareness came and went with it. A sudden cacophony of howls and barks split the night air, jolting him back into wakefulness. The light of the distant lanterns appeared to be moving, and after a few moments, he heard hurried footsteps. Pakat was back, accompanied by Grandmother and Kerra.

"They have agreed!" Grandmother said, calmly, relief rising from her words like steam. "I think we are going to be allowed to leave."

"They will not attack?" Another voice asked.

Pakat replied; "Grandmother got He Watches The Dark to give his word."

"Whatever that may be worth..." said the other person.

"We will shortly find out," Grandmother answered. "Come, let us go, as quickly as we can."

The Kheelians quickly dispersed to gather their possessions. Ben heard Pakat's lowered voice ask; "Have you seen any improvement?"

"Not much. We think Ben was trying to speak earlier."

A shadow fell across Ben as Pakat crouched down in front of him, looking anxiously into his face. He noticed the Kheelian was down to his shirt sleeves; no doubt Pakat's coat and tunic were currently forming Ben's blankets.

"Ben? Can you hear me?"

Ben rolled his head against the tree stump in what he hoped resembled a nod. He felt his fingers twitch against the Kheelian's palm. Pakat smiled.

"Good. You are going to be all right. We are going home now."

"Nenka?" Ben said again, and this time, a whisper of sound actually emerged.

"He is over there," Pakat pointed. "Still sleeping, but he is going to be okay, Ben."

How is he even alive? Ben wanted to ask. What on earth happened to us? Why aren't we all narm breakfast right now?

All he managed was a faint "What...?" but Pakat mostly seemed to understand.

"Honestly, I have no idea what happened," the Kheelian answered. "But I am certain that you did something that saved Nenka's life. I will tell you what transpired later, but for now, let us just get out of here."

It was clear that in his current weakened state, Ben was not going to be able to ride on one of the Kheelians' backs as he usually did. Dega and Pakat quickly devised a solution, using Yanto's long scarf to bind Ben's legs and torso to Pakat's back, so Ben could curl up limply on his front. Ben noted one advantage of his (hopefully temporary) paralysis; there was at last no pain at last from his chest or scapula, just cold dullness. The warmth that radiated from Pakat's back was blissful, and it was only the strange motion of Pakat walking with an exaggerated care that prevented him from instantly falling asleep again. Instead, he looked out across the broad shoulders and tried to regain a sense of the world round them. It was clear that many turns had passed while he had been unconscious. The world around them was pale still dim, but the flat palette of the sky was lightening enough to make out distant silhouettes in pale monochrome. Dawn could not be far off.

As Pakat moved over to join the other Kheelians, Ben finally had a vantage point from where he could see Nenka on his makeshift stretcher. Despite the fact that Pakat had already told him the young Kheelian had survived, Ben could not really believe his eyes. An obscene smear of gore stained Nenka's tunic and clumped his fur into black clots, but all the blood was dry and there were no dressings on his throat. It was true that Nenka's skin was pale beneath his golden fur, but his inhalations were deep and even and his face was peaceful, without pain. He really did seem to be alive.

Grandmother came up beside them, and silently laid her hand on the back of Ben's hair. He tried to offer her a smile, and she nodded back. Without another word, the Kheelians set off. They remained close together, with Yanto leading the way, followed by Dega, Kerra and Grandmother, bearing Nenka on his stretcher. Pakat and Ben came last.

Within a few moments they had reached the area where the narms had gathered. The pack animals seemed to have disappeared, but their eyes could still to be seen glinting in the darkness on both sides of the path. As they slowly passed the watchers, Pakat began to recount what had happened that night and to fill the gaps in Ben's memories.

Bites At Shadows had tried to usurp He Watches The Dark's position as alpha, that much Ben remembered. While the two lead narms had fought, the other beta narms that followed Bites At Shadows had seen the Kheelians as an additional threat, and had attacked. Pakat had fought two off and had been turning to help Dega, when Ben's sudden shout had raised the alarm. Without hesitation, the Kheelians had done as Ben had instructed, dashing to the human and standing guard around the fallen Nenka. Pakat had seen Ben cover the gushing bloody wound in Nenka's throat with his hands, and then a light had burst from between his fingers. No, not a light exactly. More like a pulse of warm energy, which burned like light. Then Pakat had been forced to look away, and focus on the attacking narms once more.

It had seemed like hours, but in reality it was only a few minutes before the attackers had been forced back, and slunk off into the dark. He Watches The Dark was dragging Bites At Shadows off by throat, and it was clear that the attempted coup had failed. The moment it was safe to turn their back to the narms, Pakat and Grandmother had dashed over to the fallen youth. Nenka had been still and pale, and blood was still gushing from his throat. Ben was inexplicably unconscious, slumped forward across the Kheelian's chest. They had bandaged Nenka's throat as best as they could, although the bandages were soon soaked through, and they had all known it was almost certainly too late to save him. The wound was too severe and they were hours from help. No-one had known what was wrong with Ben. He seemed to be uninjured, but could not be wakened. Unable to move Nenka, they left two patients lying side by side, in the hope that they might retain some body heat against the moor's cold winds.

The night wore on. The narms seemed to be ignoring the Kheelians for the time being. Bites At Shadows had been dragged off behind a circle of narms, and they could only hear occasional barks and yelps which gradually went quiet. After about a turn when neither of the injured had improved, the Kheelians had tried to leave. The narms had quickly broken away from their huddle and had come running over, snapping and barking at their heels until they stopped moving.

After another half turn had passed, Nenka's bleeding had noticeably slowed. A short while later, Yanto was changing the bandages and saw that it had ceased altogether. Afraid that Nenka's heart had stopped, they had frantically searched for a pulse, only to find it strong and his breathing steady. The wounds on his throat were closing as if they were weeks, and not hours, old. But as Nenka got stronger, Ben seemed to grow weaker. His temperature plummeted until his skin was like ice, and his heartbeat grew fainter and fainter. Anxious that Ben's low temperature might now chill Nenka, they had separated the two, sitting Ben close to one of the other Kheelians and wrapping him up in layers of their clothing.

They had eventually decided that they had to do something. Both Nenka and Ben had to be taken back to the village as quickly as possible, and so far their discussions with the narms had achieved nothing. Grandmother had talked with the others, and they quickly came up with a strategy. They could do nothing in the short term about the river drying up, and by the time they had worked to divert a river past the dam, it would be too late. They had plenty of water in the valley, drawn up from the aquifers below the moors, which were deep enough that any contaminants should easily be filtered out. They could bring shipments of water every week, and use the old pulley-operated lift system to transfer containers of water up to the moor top. Perhaps they could even teach He Watches The Dark or Six-Claw to operate it. Later, perhaps, the Kheelians could construct a channel for the water, so that the narms could see their reflections in it again. In return, the narms would stay out of the was not a perfect answer, but it might solve the current crisis. If they could get the narms to agree, of course.

Grandmother had taken Pakat and Kerra with her and had set off towards the huddled pack of narms to negotiate, while Yanto and Dega had stayed with the casualties. The narms, Pakat recounted, were not at all happy with the Kheelians, and holding the discussions without Ben there to translate the more difficult concepts had been very tricky indeed. There had been a few moments when it seemed violence was going to break out once more. But in the end, Grandmother's calm nature, and acknowledged stubborn streak, had broken through, and He Watches The Dark had accepted their terms. They had even managed to secure an agreement that Pakat and his team could continue accessing the moor for their research, so long as they stayed away from the narm's nesting grounds and explored no further than the crashed ship. None of them had any idea if the agreement would hold, but as long as it lasted long enough for them to get down from the moors to safety that would be enough for now. They had achieved peace.

As Pakat finished his retelling, they had passed out of the river valley and up onto the moor. Ben turned his head as much as he could and looked back. The narms had all melted back into the gloom, like fading apparitions. A single narm remained, standing by the great tree stump of Grandfather Kender, watching them. Ben thought it might be Six-Claw. The narm gave one last, long howl into the sky. Then he too turned, and disappeared.

It was a long, slow journey across the moor, burdened as they were with the injured. Ben slept and then woke, and then slept again, slumped forwards against the warm fur of Pakat's back. The moor passed by in a dull wash of grey and brown, unchanging. Fragments of Ben's strength slowly trickled back into him, though he still shivered with unrelenting cold. By the time dawn broke, they were only half a standard turn from the Grey Kings which marked the cliff edge, but the group were forced to stop to let the stretcher bearers rest for a while. Pakat released Ben's legs from the strapping and went to lay him down too, to rest. Ben gripped his arm, weakly.

"Nenka?" he whispered. Pakat nodded, and carried Ben over to the still unconscious youth and set him down gingerly on his side. Ben pushed himself up on his shaking arms. Without the Force, he could not do much to analyse Nenka's condition. However, as soon as he pushed aside the cloth of Nenka's collar, he could see with his own eyes. The flesh of the Kheelian's throat was deeply scored and jagged with red scars, but the wounds had closed, and bled no more. Ben touched the horrendous injury with numb fingers. The conclusion to the evidence was clear: he had somehow used his powers to force the wounds closed at a massively accelerated rate, to the detriment of his own strength. He was recovering remarkably quickly, but Ben could tell that if he had not stopped pouring his strength into Nenka when he did, he certainly would have died. As it was, Nenka was no longer in danger of bleeding to death or suffocating, but he was far from healed, and the stresses such an abrupt healing would have placed on the young Kheelian's system might still prove to be too much. The amount of energy required for such rapid process of angiogenesis was enormous, for both of them. No wonder Ben felt as if he was starving. He quite literally was.

As Ben touched the edges of the wound once more, Nenka stirred under his hand, and slowly the youth opened his eyes. Ben leaned forwards as far as his unsteady arms would allow.

"Nenka?"

The Kheelian said nothing in reply, but swallowed, and blinked a few times. He brought his hand up to his throat, but Grandmother caught his wrist.

"Careful," she said. "It is not fully healed yet."

The youth looked to Ben once more. Seeming satisfied that the human was mostly unhurt, Nenka closed his eyes, although he remained awake and gripping Grandmother's hand, weakly.

Now that he had enough strength to use short words, Ben managed to convey his and Nenka's rather urgent need for food to the other Kheelians. They had not brought much with them apart from a few chaal bars, some raw tarvaroot and bottles of cold tea, but Pakat also had a handful of Ben's nutrient biscuits in his pocket. Both casualties were really too weak to eat, so Yanto and Pakat crushed up the solid food and mixed it with the tea, while Pakat held Ben tucked in close to his chest, trying to warm him. It was all Ben could do not to gag at the cold food mush which Pakat tipped into his mouth, but he did manage to keep it down. It went only a small way to easing the painful emptiness in inside, and he was still numb with cold.

They set off again, now in the early dawn light. The stone steps down from the moor proved to be almost impassable to the group. Pakat was forced to untie Ben from his back again, and instead carrying him in one arm to prevent him sliding lose. The steps were treacherous to navigate for Nenka's stretcher-bearers, but slowly they managed, and astonishingly without mishap. The morning hours were well advanced by the time the made the floor of the valley, and everyone was exhausted.

A strange mood had befallen the party as they made their way towards the Shaarm residence. They were desperately concerned for Nenka, of course, and it was Ben himself harbouring the worst doubts. He had possessed no idea what he was doing during the healing, that was for certain. Pure instinct had unleashed a torrent of the Force, like forging fire, into the youth's wounds. Fire could bring light and purge infection, that was true, but it was more likely to scorch and destroy if wielded carelessly. What if he had somehow hindered the youth's natural healing by forcing his cells to accelerate their growth? What if he had put the tissues back together incomplete? What if the forced healing he had induced came undone, and the wounds tore themselves open again? Only time would tell.

But despite these worries, a sense of optimism was also cautiously growing in the group. Nenka had woken twice, and seemed to recognise the other Kheelians around him. Ben, too, was slowlg getting stronger. He could now move his hands and lift his own head a few centimetres.

But more than all this, they had succeeded. They had, between them, solved the riddle of the stolen sky. They had devised a method of appeasing the narms' need for water, and they had made what might prove to be the first steps to a lasting peace. They had won.

Ben was almost falling asleep again as they turned the last corner in the road which led to Shaarm's house. He was startled awake by the feel of Pakat going suddenly tense, and a voice ahead exclaiming in surprise.

"Hello! Who is this then?"

And then Pakat said; "Ooouli!"

Ben lifted his head to see Ooouli bounding over from where she had been waiting at the edge of the road. Beside her stumbled Tiki, her hand firmly held in her sister's. The girls dashed up to Pakat.

"Papa!" Ooouli said, dropping Tiki's hand to grasp her father's neck affectionately. "You have been ages. What happened? Did you see the narms? Where is Nenka?"

The other Kheelians crowded round as Pakat stared at the girls.

"Ooouli, what are you doing out here?"

"It cannot even be sixth turn yet," Grandmother added, frowning as she looked up at the sky.

"It is nearly ninth turn, Grandmother," Ooouli corrected. "You were gone all night! We have been waiting here for ages. Did Ben talk to the narms? He does not look well. Are you sick again, Ben?"

"Just tired, Ooouli," Ben said, and was pleased that his voice sounded almost normal. Tiki reared up on her back legs and took hold of his hand limp hand, gently. He gave her palm a light squeeze.

"Darling, why are you and Tiki out here alone?" Pakat was starting to sound slightly anxious, and he glanced up the road in the direction of the house. "Where are Mama and Dada?"

"Mama told me to bring Tiki up here as soon as it got light, to wait for you. She said she would follow along in a minute. I had to wait here to meet you, and then tell you that last night some Pechnars came to the house!"

"What!"

"When?"

Pakat and Grandmother both said, at the same moment.

Adrenaline hit Ben's system faster than a triple-strength caff. He pushed himself up, trying to pull free.

"Put me down," he instructed, Pakat quickly lifted him to the ground. Ben forced himself up on his arms and leaned towards the children.

"Ooouli, how many Pechnar were there?" he asked, with some urgency.

"Pechnar?" exclaimed one of the other Kheelians. "Why are Pechnar here?"

"Never mind them," another, probably Dega, said. "We need to get Nenka to medical care as quickly as possible."

"They are looking for Ben of course!" Ooouli said, ignoring the other grown-ups. "Three of them came to the door last night. They had on these funny brown coats." She wrinkled up her nose. "They could not speak any Kheeli though, only Basic, like Ben when he first came."

Tiki, who had now wrapped herself around her father's front legs, scowled in disagreement.

"Not like Ben," she said, firmly.

Ben reached up, grasping Ooouli's hand, and tugging at it to reclaim her attention. "How long ago did they leave, Ooouli?" he asked. "What direction did they take?"

Ooouli looked puzzled, and then laughed. "They did not leave, silly! They are still at the house."

AN/ Apologies everyone for the long absence, I has some RL crap to deal with. There'll be another short hiatus till the end of November and then I'll be back, with more in store for Ben.