Disclaimer - Valdemar, Heralds and Companions are the works of Mercedes Lackey, and remain her sole and personal property. Firechild Legacy is a derivative fanfiction work not intended for publication or profit. Kahlen belongs to me!

Kudos to my reviewers! I REALLY get inspired by R&R feedback hint, hint

Fireblade – Yes, it was evil of me – and no, Dris' blood wasn't poisoned – it was infected evil grin, with worse to come.

Kathleen – Thanks so much for the feedback – will try to keep you coming back – please let me know if you spot any loose ends…

Ironfish – will rework Ch. 8 in a bit and clarify some things. Kahlen sensed that Firesong has the same gifts as the I'nadazi – the eastern empire adepts who had created her as part of a specialized breeding program, as well the blood-plague. Think bio-WMD, Velgarth style. Kahlen panicked, thinking he was one of them. Only her Companion kept her from attacking him in the middle of the reception.

Cat – As always, you give me good guidance. Will watch the pacing…

Darkfyre, will work on the gryphon speech patterns – and the action scenes!

Corrupted-innocent – Thanks! There is no prequel. I haven't killed Kahlen off (no guarantees g. The eastern empire was where Tremane (Mage-Storm Trilogy) comes from. Alberich has an unusual speech syntax (Exile's Honor) that Kahlen tends to mimic when she's talking to him. Her own speech syntax is similar, since she didn't grow up speaking Valdemaran, either. An'desha is probably in the Dhorisha Plains (again, Mage Storms). Silverfox is Firesong's lifemate (no, they're not lifebonded, and he was introduced in the Mage Winds Trilogy and reprised in Mage Storms)

Chapter 9 – Into the Crucible

Kevren staggered with the shock of the sudden transition, and fought to keep from passing out. Every muscle screamed agony, and his vision faded into a red mist. When he could see again, he found himself on his hands and knees, inside the stranger's shields. Two pain signatures drew him out of himself – the stranger, slumped over with a deeply slashed wrist, panic rousing him to a desperate effort to reach Kahlen, and the girl herself, white faced and on the ground, blood drenching the dagger pressed to the hilt into her left side. His Healing gift leaped, fluctuated, faltered. Two, both dying, and he couldn't move!

Firesong stared through the wildly fluctuating shields in disbelief, his mind trying to register what he'd just seen. What she'd just done. And the healer, Kevren was in shock, and barely conscious. The Taleydras adept sent a wordless cry for help to Darkwind, then leaned forward, breathing slowly and carefully, and mentally felt the shields, seeking for some flaw, some weakness that would let him bring them down without harm to the people trapped inside. More healers were coming, but they'd be too late – and just as helpless as he was if he didn't find some way to dissolve those shields. The sudden arrival of Kahlen's Companion almost knocked him to the ground.

:Firesong – Adept – link through me!: The Companion ordered grimly.

Firesong looked from the Companion to the girl, silver eyes narrowed, then carefully traced the bond between them – the bond that somehow penetrated the shields. Then he saw a second bond, faint, tenuous, pulsing with a dual heartbeat, running from his own power and through the shields, and twining with the girl's aura. Impossible! Yet he'd felt something, back in the Palace, when he'd first entered the reception room and locked eyes with her. The adept hesitated only a moment, then closed his eyes and reached. The shields fought him, fluctuating, unstable and deadly. He traced the shape of them, ignoring the pain, ignoring the surge of energy that ran from the Companion, through the shields, to the young woman trapped inside. And found he could reach her, despite the shields, through that tenuous bond.

The healer moved, one hand clutching his head, the other reaching out blindly to seize the stranger's slashed wrist. Kevren held on despite the man's feeble protests, and Firesong could sense, if not see, the Healing energies flowing between them. He returned his attention to the young herald-trainee. Her hands still clutched the dagger, but her eyes were closed, her face white. :Kahlen, the blade. Don't touch it – don't pull against it.:

:Don't…break the shields.: That, faintly. :I can hold them… I can burn it out…from inside.: A violent grief for the one she'd called Drisae – and for the healer, Kevren. And, oddly, a growing fear for him, and for the heralds and healers he could sense converging on them. Distantly, he sensed impending rain and boiling storm clouds, hidden save where lightning tore through the growing dark and a few shreds of moonlight lingered.

:You will not.: Firesong ordered, reaching again through the faint, tenuous bond, and clamping down on her power. He felt it then, the tiny invaders that fought to take hold in her blood, seeking, seeking. :I see them, the little killers. I will confine them, Kahlen. But you will lower your shields, and you will trust me. Think!: He sent furiously. :Those who sent this man here can send again. We must be able to fight this thing, and to fight it we need them – and you – alive, child. You are a Herald of Valdemar – would you leave it defenseless?:

Amethyst eyes turned toward him, fogged with pain and uncertainty. :Can't… I'nadazi… made this… thought they'd… failed…all my gateward…dead.: A world of regret and doubt shown in those eyes – and he realized she would do this thing – she would not risk setting this sickness free in Valdemar, yet her energies were weakening with each heartbeat.

:Chosen – you must do as Master Firesong says.: The Companion moved forward, his head almost touching the faltering shields. :You have the means to destroy this sickness – but not if you are dead!:

Kevren released the stranger's arm, and dropped back to his hands and knees, fighting to stay conscious. A grey fog obscured his vision, pulsing in time to his own heartbeat. The stranger – Drisae, she'd called him, was unconscious now, but at least he was still breathing. Doggedly, he crawled over to Kahlen, placed shaking hands on either side of the dagger, then carefully grasped it and pulled the blade out. The girl gave a faint cry and passed out. The shields around them weakened, wavered, but did not yield.

Not her shields, Firesong realized in growing dismay, but the stranger's – and locked in place. The healer was cursing softly now, pressing both hands against the blood-flow from Kahlen's wound. Recklessly, Firesong began feeding more energy into the girl, willing the healer to take it, to focus it through his Gift. Kevren glanced at him, startled, then nodded grimly and began to cautiously draw on the fresh power pooling within the girl, transmuting it to healing energy. Buying time. Time Firesong would have to use, and quickly. What she'd done – ghosting through the stranger's shields, taking Kevren with her – could he do the same?

"Ashke?" Distantly, he felt Silverfox drop down beside him.

A world of regret shuddered through the adept, that he had no time explain to his beloved, to say what was in his heart. There simply was no time. He turned and shoved Silverfox away, hard, outside the range of the shields he had to set. A flash of thought to Darkwind, who looked startled, then pulled the kestra'chern even farther back, waving the others back as well. The girl's Companion stared at the adept a moment, then nodded, but refused to move back. Star-eyed help me. He'd never tried this before – never considered it possible. His legs felt oddly weak. She was pulling power unconsciously, he realized suddenly, unaware, and ungrounded, and now he was running out of time and energy.

Quickly, Firesong threw his own shields around himself and the Companion, and encompassing the weaker shields that separated him from the others. And opened that weak, tenuous bond to the girl wider, wider – and flung himself forward, using it as a lifeline to pass through the stranger's inner shields – shields that faltered, then pulsed, then lashed at him with a firestorm of energies that tore at his controls and his reason and left him screaming in pain. He did not pass out, quite. It might have been a blessing if he had.

:… I don't… need… another… patient…: Kevren knelt over him, teeth gritted, feverish with pain and a reaction headache that sent tears streaming into the healer's eyes. The pain in his own head was slowly fading. The pain in his flesh was not, but it would not kill him. At least not yet. Firesong caught the healer's hands and pushed them away, then wordlessly began feeding the man power directly. The pain in the healer's eyes faded a bit, and he gasped in relief, then turned back to the girl, intent on closing the wound that still bled sluggishly. Firesong struggled to his knees, reached out to the stranger, and carefully sought and found the keys to the shields – and brought them down, channeling their power back into to their originator. The Companion came forward then, dropping gracefully down beside him.

:Firesong. Take what you need, for yourself and my Chosen…: The wordless plea in the impossible blue eyes was irresistible. Carefully, the adept placed a hand on the Companion's shoulder, another on the girl, and began a slow power transfer. He looked curiously at the new burns that seared his hands and arms, and felt oddly light-headed. He was going into shock, and could think of nothing to do to stop it, and yet there was something…something… he still needed to do.

The thought came to him just before he passed out. :Darkwind… hold the shields. The sickness in here – it's tainted with blood-magic. We have to…: He never felt the other adept take hold of the shields, or heard Elspeth's cry of dismay as she came running forward, eyes sweeping from him to the others trapped inside his shields Never saw his own body fluctuating, shifting, fading into a blur of white, coruscating light, struggling to keep hold of his human form, to anchor him to the physical world. And failing.

Kahlen's first thought was that someone had shoved a white-hot firebrand into her side. An attempt to sit up left her gasping with pain, her eyes blurred with tears. "Don't." Kevren rasped hoarsely. The healer knelt beside her, his shaking hands pressed lightly over the wound under her ribs, his face haggard and gray with fatigue. Then he glanced to one side, and gasped. "Gods help us…" Kahlen followed his gaze, and froze. The Tayledras adept was badly burned. Worse, he was fading, glowing, fluctuating in a white fire that glowed brighter with every passing second. Her Companion lay beside him, his eyes dimmed, head drooping.

:Chosen…I can't hold him much longer. You must stop this...: She saw it then, the energy that flowed unchecked between them, that the adept had fed first to Kevren, and then to her. Energy that Rand had provided until, exhausted, he could no longer sustain the link. Horrified, she severed the link and blocked the flow. Rand whickered softly, then watched her hopefully, his head held a trifle higher. Slowly, Kahlen pushed herself to a sitting position, one hand pressed against the half-healed, sluggishly bleeding wound.

Beside her Kevren dropped his head into his hands, moaning softly. She grasped the healer's shoulder, then eased him down onto the ground. He could do no more. He'd burn out if he tried. She glanced anxiously at Drisae, who was white with blood loss and the ravages of the plague – but still breathing. Finally, she turned back toward the adept.

"Kahlen, can you hear me?" Darkwind's voice echoed hollowly through the shields. He knelt outside the mage barrier, holding them carefully, but his eyes stayed on the adept in growing agitation. "Firesong – what is happening to him?"

"I – I'm not sure, M'hada." She crawled closer, then placed a trembling hand on the adept. It was as she'd feared. Energy depletion, and something worse. He'd phased through Dris' shields on intuition – or sheer idiocy –and was trapped in the phasing, unable to stabilize. Most I'nadazi would not have dared. Most I'nadazi would have died in the attempt. And none would have risked such a death, no matter the cause. For a moment Kahlen, covered her face with her hands, hating all her choices. If she chose wrongly…

Kahlen looked despairingly at the people gathered outside Darkwind's shields. She needed power – and there was only one way to get it, and no time to explain. Grimly, Kahlen placed her hands into the pulsing light that had swallowed the Taleydras adept.

Darkwind stiffened, then stood up swiftly, his heart hammering in disbelief. Kahlen was shifting, glowing, transforming. Melding with the pulsing, uneven light that still held a dim image of his friend and mentor. Drawing power from elsewhere, feeding it into the adept, slowly at first, then at an ever increasing rate, its intensity growing, swelling, until he could no longer bear to watch.

"Look away!" Elspeth screamed, grabbing the Hawkbrother's shoulder and turning him away from the blinding light. Silverfox cried out and ran forward, and they both caught him and pulled him down, Elspeth's hand clamped desperately over his eyes. The light changed suddenly, becoming a fiery red, then fading to a painfully bright blue – and abruptly vanished.