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Firechild Legacy

Chapter 1 - Barricades

Joss pelted out of the dining hall, two apples clutched in his small hands, his face alight at the thought of seeing Merrill. Every day was like the first time - like being Chosen all over again. He'd taken two apples because she insisted on sharing, merry blue eyes teasing him into eating at least half of whatever treats he brought her. :You're growing, but you're still small, and I'm taller than most Companions.: she'd told him gently. :You'll need the height when you're older, Little Chosen.: The boy flushed at that memory, but still grinned at the thought of her nibbling her share of the apples from his hands - and they were small. At a scant ten years, he was the youngest Herald-trainee in this year's crop.

The boy was halfway across the bridge leading to Companion's Field before he felt - then heard - a sound like distant thunder. The low rumble thrummed against his skin then grew to a shriek, rising in intensity. Halfway across the field Merrill sidestepped uncertainly, then reared in sudden distress. The boy ran forward, eyes fixed on his Companion, his fear growing as the sound increased in volume and pitch. The Companion's blue eyes rolled in terror as her head whipped around, Joss only veered toward her, hands against his ears as the sound grew, then broke over him like a battering ram. Something hit him, smashed him to the ground, and pounded him into the dark.

Merrill's screams woke him. That, and the staccato pounding of her hooves against something huge and metallic. His ears rang with it. Pain racked the boy as he struggled to roll over. M'head. Think it's broke. Pain thudded dully through his face, and his arm ... he blacked out again.

:Josseren? Joss!: His eyes opened blearily to the sight of Merrill's hooves dancing above him, crashing down on - was it glass? Pale blue, glowing faintly, like a fish bowl, he thought blearily. Someone dropped a fishbowl on me. Behind Merrill were two more Companions, flanks heaving in distress. Blearily, he recognized Herald Evan's Companion, Nari. Joss tried to push himself to his knees, but needles of pain shot through his right arm and he dropped back to ground, landing hard on his left side. :Arm. Broke, I think.: Joss pushed up again, cradling his right arm, then looked up through the shimmering surface. Merrill's flailing hooves rang again against the shimmering surface, but left no mark on it. He reached out shakily with his left hand, then recoiled as his questing fingers touched the strange barricade. Sparks flashed and stung like wasps, leaving his arm numb and throbbing to the elbow. Hurts. It's hurting her. :Stop it, love. I'm ... up now: She froze, then let out a squeal of distress. Red misted her sapphire eyes.

:They hurt you!:

:I'm alright now.: He wasn't. He managed a sickly smile. Anything to help her calm down.

"Joss, look at me. How bad, boy?" Healer Kevren knelt close to him, just outside the barrier. Behind him stood Herald Evan. "Can you hear us?" Their voices echoed hollowly in the strange enclosure.

"Yeah." He wanted to lie down. So sleepy.

Kevren grimaced, then raked a hand through unruly brown hair. "He's concussed, Evan. We need to get him out of there." The Herald nodded grimly, but his eyes were focused beyond the kneeling boy. "Gods ... who are they?"

Joss turned, waited desperately for the ground to quit tilting, then squinted blearily at the two figures behind him, trapped as he was inside the faintly glowing shield. His first thought - armored? If so, it was like nothing he'd ever seen. Gauntlets of sorts, but no chain mail or breast plate. Black trousers, tunics. A full cloak, of some thin, dark material that flowed like water. Hands oddly sheathed in a thin, seamless fabric. One of the strangers lay prone, his narrow face pale with shock, breathing in shallow gasps. A helmet fully covered the other's face, with no slits for sight or breathing. Another helmet lay discarded nearby. How could they breathe? The figure on the ground cried out suddenly, convulsing. His faceless companion crouched over him, swaying slightly, hands held slightly over the body, moving slowly, cautiously. Between hands and body something quivered in the still air, but the injured man took no relief from it. Not a healing, then.

The crouching figure rose, turned briefly toward the boy, and froze. Its hands fisted, rose, and Joss braced himself for a blow. A strangled sound, half laugh, half sob, escaped the odd helmet. The figure turned back to its companion and knelt again. Joss sank back to the ground then laid down, gasping. His stomach heaved suddenly, rejecting the fine breakfast he'd bolted down only moments ago.

"Talk to me, lad." Kevren insisted. Joss groaned, then rolled over. The healer still knelt beside him, barred as before. Herald Evan had moved farther away, but across the field he could see others running toward them, summoned by the man's silent mind-call. Odd. He could hear them, but he couldn't mind-speak them, yet he could still mind-speak with Merrill. "Talk, Joss. What happened?"

"Heard." He swallowed, his throat gone dry. "Heard it - something coming loud - hurt m'ears." Nausea rose against the pain in his head. He swallowed hard. "Tried t'get to Merrill. She's.."

"My Nari's with her." Herald Evan said, returning to the strange barrier that enclosed him. He knelt down beside Kevren, careful not to touch the glowing barrier.

"How do we get him out of there?" Kevren asked, forcing his voice to a calmness he was far from feeling. The Herald simply shook his head. Evan's gifts lay in mind-magic, as did his teaching duties. This was something else entirely. His eyes narrowed. The boy was mage-gifted, if untrained. A forlorn hope, but -

"Can you lower this shield, Joss?" The boy blinked, then shook his head disconsolately. He focused hard on the strange shield and gave what information he could.

"There's two of 'em, one inside t'other. Can't touch 'em, though. Not mine, anyway." He shifted and gasped, as pain lanced through his ribs.

"His ribs are cracked." Kevren said curtly, eyes on his patient. "Try not to move, lad."

The healer sat back and stared angrily at the crouched figure in strange armor - if it was armor. No sword, not even an empty sheath. His eyes went to the other figure, prone, talking softly in words foreign to him. Hurt, that one. The shield was adamant against any further probing. He touched it anyway, jerked back with a curse when it shocked him. His eyes went back to the strangers. If they dared hurt the boy - but the one kneeling one was speaking softly to his fallen comrade, ignoring the boy completely. The language was utterly strange.

"Not to leave me, Zethren." Her words came out a harsh, fierce whisper. "... please ..." Kahlen ran her hands lightly above the gatemaster's body again, her head shaking in denial. Gods, the damage, and she no healer. They'd held the gates, held them despite the emperor's sorcerers, despite the deaths of the others of their ward, burned up in the fires coursing through them. She'd held, despite everything. Held until the plague running rampant over the small island had so weakened Zethren he'd faltered, his grip on the gate energies weakening, slipping. Only an instant, for gateforce to fling them here. Her head still throbbed from the shock of it, and she was afraid to look at her hands. "I could try the infusion -" She began – but Sethren only shook his head. "Let me try!"

"Too late for that, Kahlen. No time. No time now. Take the shields." He said it quietly, eyes closed. Wordless, she obeyed, hissed as the fire settled into her aching bones. He seemed to gain a small measure of strength as that burden was lifted from him, and for a moment she dared to hope.

"Kahlen - it mustn't spread. All Gods help you, firechild, it mustn't spread. You'll have to - fire kills it." She froze. Stared at him in mute horror. "Ash." His eyes were fierce, as his whispered words could not be. His chest struggled to rise, to bring enough air into failing lungs for what must be said. "Ash, firechild. Peace, I won't feel it." His hand rose, gently touched her face. "Gods praise. You never caught it. Nine in ten. So few ... don't think you can carry it ..." His hand fumbled for hers, brought it to his chest. Held it there. "Help me. Can't bleed out ... too risky." He nodded weakly to the huddled boy on the far side of their shield. "Save the boy, if you can. He's been exposed, but... :Now, Kahlen. Don't make me do this alone!:

The words burned, silent, into her mind and soul. Her eyes blurred and went dark. Blindly she reached out, placed her shaking hands over his heart. They were still numb from gate-shock, but she could feel it growing in him even now - the blood-plague. Too far, much too far gone for any meager defense her own blood might have offered. His fingers grasped hers, tensed. :Now, firechild.: She sent released the torrent of energy, eyes closed, felt him spasm, then go slack.

Zethren!

Joss tried to back away, breathing hard. Gods. The one on the ground was dead. The other, face bowed, turned away. Killed 'm. Killed'm with her hands. The faceless mask turned toward him, then reached suddenly for its cloak fastening, pulled off the rippling black garment and threw it over the boy.

"Da Naq!" The words were incomprehensible, but the meaning clear. He froze as the stranger pulled it securely over his face, body and legs, then shoved him painfully away from that slight, still form.

Joss cried out as his broken arm scraped the ground. A bright flash, acrid smoke seared his mouth and nose, and brought frantic shouts from the men outside the strange barrier. He wanted to see! Instead he passed out again.

The herald had been testing the shields again, hoping for some sign of weakness, and the sudden blaze within the barrier caught him off-guard, searing his eyes. He backed away from the shields, hands pressed against his eyes, and sent his mind out again in a desperate quest for any herald-mage within range. Nothing. Merrill screamed, lunged past Nari, then lashed out again.

Evan put a firm hand on the healer's trembling shoulder, gripping the man hard against another futile attempt at the stranger's shields. The other one was gone now, burned to ash. The one remaining knelt over the boy now, pulling the black cloak back with shaking hands. Josseran was still breathing, his eyes glazed with pain.

A flash of color caught the Herald's eye, but it took a moment for the emblem on the stranger's cloak to register. Red wolf's head. Gold eyes. Empire mage. Gods above, how - there'd been no incursions from the empire since Tremane, backed by the Alliance, had accepted the crown of Hardorn. The consensus had been that the new emperor, Melles, would have his hands full for years rebuilding the empire in the aftermath of the mage storms. Had they been wrong?

Evan glanced at his Companion, Nari. The big stallion was pressed tight against Merrill, keeping her away from the barrier that enclosed her Chosen. The mare's silvered hooves were scorched, her forelegs bloodied, from repeated strikes at the thing, and his heart hurt just looking at her. Others from the Herald's collegium had converged quickly on the field. All were at a loss on how to break or lower the shields and get the boy out.

* * * * * * *

Kahlen sat, shivering, and watched the boy. She would not think of Zethren. She would not. She took her grief and turned it inward, focused it on the task at hand. The boy's arm was broken, surely. She reached forward, touched it gently. Skin intact, at least. It took several tries to open the fastenings of her right gauntlet and pry it off. A little loose, but with some padding ripped from his shirt it would serve to splint the break. The gloves made her clumsy. She loosened the other gauntlet and peeled off both gloves. Beneath, her hands were pale, shaking, almost translucent.

The shields pulled at her hungrily. She looked beyond them to the people gathering in the field they'd landed in. Angry. Frightened. White-garbed. White warriors, Zethren had said - in Valdemar. Her heart faltered at the distance they'd come. Trained for such Gatings had been Zethren, called the world walker, who could fling a Gate through a mage storm or half way across the empire. So too had been the mages of his Ward, who had stolen a slave child out of the battle pens and claimed her for the gates, and the emperor's service. Trained her. Loved her. All dead now. Another white garbed warrior joined the first, stared angrily at her through the shields. Their words came through the shields clearly enough, but she could make no meaning of them. The white, blue-eyed creature shrilled a challenge at her.

Three days, she thought dazedly. It would run its course in three days. If I can only hold - if the boy can live that long. Grimly, she drew out her makeshift field kit and pulled out the thin quills and one of the small, tough bladders they'd devised in those last desperate hours at Granite's Gate. The child she'd been had never succumbed to the plagues visited with terrifying regularity on the sequestered slaves there. Immune, the cursed lifemakers had called it, though they'd never explained the term. Hard now, to get the quill into a vein. She was dehydrated, and they'd bled her so many times in that last, desperate attempt to save – she wouldn't think about it now. A slow, deep breath and she finally had it in, dark fluid pulsing slowly into the thin bladder.

She brought the quill out smoothly, then pressed carefully on the small wound. The boy, she noted, was watching her with a mixture of fascination and nausea.

Joss scuttled back as the strange figure pulled out the small box with odd tools, peeled off gauntlets and gloves, and drew a measure of it own blood. Bronzed, narrow hands reached up and tugged the helmet off. A thin face topped with pale, thick hair pulled back in an intricate braid, met his startled gaze. Eyes like deep wells, dark as midnight, impossibly large, met his own. His eyes widened further. A woman?

"Isnari 'uyn meralo." She said quietly. He shook his head and tried to moved away. Kahlen closed her eyes and rubbed them nervously. :I won't hurt you.: She Bespoke softly. Did he hesitate? :I don't have your words, child. Can you understand me?:

:I don't - yes.: Her words echoed strangely inside his head - like talking to Merrill, it was, or Herald Evan during mind-speech classes.

:I can't bespeak through the shields, and I don't know your spoken tongue. Your comrades can hear us, though. Can you - will you speak for me? I won't hurt you, but ... you could hurt them. You were exposed.:

:Exposed?:

:To sickness. Blood-plague, we called it. It killed my - my gatebrothers. Nine in ten died of it, where we gated from.: She gestured wearily at the barrier. :This keeps it in - and I cannot for the Gods sake let it out. Not for my life - nor yours. Tell them!:

"..and she says nine out of ten on that island died of it."

Kevren glanced worriedly at the Herald. "He's terrified, Evan. And I don't think she's lying to him. Unless empire mages can lie mind to mind?"

"I don't think so...but can we risk breaking that shield to find out?" :Gods, we need a Herald-mage here: Aloud he spoke calmly. "Joss, what else? Will she let us get a healer in to you?"

The boy looked cautiously at the woman. "Nad'a melornai, Joss'ren." She ran a shaking hand over her face. She's exhausted, he realized abruptly. If she loses the shields... but then what would happen? To Healer Kevren? The others, gathering frantically in response to the explosion that had ripped across Companion's Field?

"She says all their healers died at Granite - where they Gated from. The plague - it hit the healers hardest." The woman caught and held his gaze, then gestured again toward his friends. "We have to wait - three days, she says. If I'm st- still alive, she'll take down the shields."

The boy's face was pale, his eyes shocky. The black-clad mage caught him as he swayed and eased him carefully back to the ground. Kevren watched anxiously, but could find no fault in the way she straightened, then splinted the boy's arm. Nor when she checked his ribs, then wrapped him carefully in her cloak.

Kevren stiffened, though, when she pierced the boy's arm and drew a small measure of blood and mixed it with some of her own. "Let me in." He said abruptly.

Her eyes met his calmly. No need for words here. She shook her head, then turned her attention to the small pool of mixed blood in her right palm. Whatever she was looking for, she apparently found. The woman wiped her hand on the grass, then took up the small bladder, forced the small quill into the boy's vein and squeezed.

"No!" Kevren struck the shield, watched helplessly as the blood entered the boy's vein. "Gods, she could kill him!" Merrill screamed again and plunged against the barrier. The black-clad figure moaned and grabbed her head. She turned furiously toward the Companion, raised empty hands -

:No! Don't hurt her!: The boy grabbed frantically for her arms. Startled, Kahlen turned and studied him. He was terrified, not for himself, but for the horse! :My Companion. Don't hurt her!: That, fiercely.

:She mustn't do that. I've - I've opened a free channel to the shields. If she breaks them, it will kill the plague - and us with it.: Tears of frustration streamed silently down the woman's narrow face. :And I promised Zethren. No more deaths. Not after - please Gods - not again.:

Unbidden, he saw the place. Where she'd come from. Where nothing lived now but fires ravaging homes, shops, the marketplace, the small seaport that had been the heart of Granite. Where bodies littered the streets. Children. Women. Hundreds. All dead, all burning. He was retching, despite the pain in his arm and ribs. She pushed him gently of her mind, then held him tightly against the spasms, fearful he'd puncture a lung with his heaving.

"Na'da, na'da, malerno'valen, Joss'ren." She breathed softly. :I only gave you my blood. It doesn't clot yours, so there's a chance. The infusion can work - we saved some that way. We saved...if it's done in time.:

:Not Haven: Terror shook him, and his eyes begged her. :Don't let that loose in Haven. Don't let it loose. Not in Valdemar.:

She stroked his head gently, eased him back onto the grass, then looked past him. :So. A White Demon.: Incredibly, she smiled. :Beautiful, she is. Not to hurt her, Joss'ren. Better, perhaps, had she broken the barrier. Three days. I've managed worse, though: She unhooked a flask from her belt and held it to his lips. :Best drink now, a little. Then rest.:

"She won't drink." Joss looked blearily through the barrier and wondered how much time had passed. One day? Two? He'd lost track. Merrill kept vigil outside the barrier, although she no longer paced. He could still mind speak his Companion, but not the Herald or healer. Couldn't show them what he'd seen in Kahlen's mind. "She hasn't slept?"

Evan shook his head. He'd finally ordered the Healer off for some sleep. Two Companions stayed near Merrill, his own Nari and Kantor, Herald Alberich's Companion. Two more Heralds kept watch with him, and a squad of the Queen's Guard. A message had gone south to King Tremane of Hardorn for any information he could offer on Empire gate mages. All they could do now was wait. The heralds studied the small, black clad figure carefully. She hadn't moved in several hours. She was grey with fatigue beneath the bronze skin. They'd exchanged a few halting words, while Josseran slept, but no real understanding. She'd refused to wake the boy to act as interpreter.

Josseran frowned. There was something…something he should have remembered. He looked suddenly toward Merrill, then examined the ground between them - and there they were, two small, yellow orbs tucked up against a flat paving stone. He crawled over and took them in shaking hands, then dusted off the bits of dirt and grass. Crawling back to the woman, he settled cross-legged in the grass and held out one of the apples. A ghost of a smile crossed her face, but she shook her head and pushed it back toward him, then gestured that he should eat them.

"I won't." He said quietly. "Not unless you share. If you lose the shields, we'll both die." She watched him wordlessly for a moment, then accepted the fruit and bit cautiously into it.

Joss ate his share slowly, making it last, right down to the core. The woman smiled and did the same, then nodded graciously to him, then touched her heart. "Est' nam'a Kahlen."

He nodded, and managed a shaky grin. "Your name is Kahlen."

The boy was exhausted, his reserves depleted from little water and no food. He was warm enough, though. She'd heated rocks at night to keep off the chill. The shields pulsed slightly now, a heart rhythm that worried Evan even as he hoped she might be weakening enough to drop the damned things. And she'd threatened to ash the boy - and herself - if they tried to force them. A blood-plague, she'd called it. Something brought on by the mage storms? But those had ended four years ago, and little news they'd had from the empire since. And the boy was hurting, feverish.

Kevren returned, his face grim. "Alberich reached Elspeth. She's a few hours away. If he's not out before she gets here, we're taking that shield down. However we can."

The woman stirred and looked out toward the westering sun, then reached unsteadily for the boy. Three days it had been, and now… She examined his face and hands minutely, then pulled gently on his cheeks, checking the lining of his eyes. Clear. Finally, she laid a hand on his chest. The boy flinched in fear. "Imari fres'on, Joss'ren." She said hoarsely, then dropped her face into her hands, weeping softly in relief.

"She says - she says I don't have it. She can take the shields down now." The boy's voice was thick with relief. He closed his eyes, exhausted. Merrill moved closer, whickering anxiously.

Slowly, every muscle aching, Kahlen moved to the center of the enclosed space and stretched out her hands. The shields flickered, faltered, held. She looked at them in dismay. Zethren's deathward, his energies bound so tightly to the shield she couldn't separate them from her own. Ah, Gods, this was going to hurt. She tried again, gasping in pain as the shields flared and refused to yield, them reached clumsily for the cloak and wrapped it tightly around the boy again. :Joss'ren, cover yourself. Don't look out. I can't recall the shield energies - I have to break them. Tell your comrades they must get clear and cover their eyes:

:But you can't-: Both her hands speared out, pointed sharply at the shields, and began to glow. He cried a panicked warning to the others, then covered his head and arms while lightening flashed out and ripped into the barriers. For a moment, the herald and healers were blinded, then deafened by the blast. When Evan's vision cleared, the shields were down. Kevren was already inside, kneeling by the boy. Carefully, he tipped water into Joss's parched, swollen lips. Merrill stood protectively over them, looking murderously at the boy's former captor.

Kevren motioned curtly to two waiting apprentices in healer greens, who gently scooped the boy onto a stretcher and bore him carefully away, the healer walking beside them. Josseran, though, kept reaching for him. Kevren bent closer as they walked. The boy struggled to Mindspeak. :Saw the place, Kevren. Where she came from. All burned and dead. The healers there...they couldn't stop it! Couldn't fight it. They tried though - Kahlen and the other ones - all dead now, 'cept her. Don't - Don't let her go...she wants to...: No, Kevren thought grimly. Whoever she was, she wouldn't be allowed to go. Not until they knew what new threat the Empire posed.

Evan moved cautiously nearer the still figure, kneeling quietly on the scorched ground, then beckoned the guards to close in. :Can you hear me?:

No response. The guard captain drew his sword and put it lightly to the woman's throat. She didn't move. Her eyes were closed, her lips taut with suppressed pain, and her face... then he looked down at her hands. Captain Ashton swore softly, and sheathed his sword and reached down.

"Herald Evan, I don't think she can hear us." The woman was light in his arms, her hands cradled against her chest, her breath uneven and thready.

Evan caught sight of her hands and his own breath caught. :Kevren! We've burns here!: