David Coe - The Dark-Eyes War

"What is it?" Grinsa asked, sitting up and trying to clear his head. "What's the matter?"

"I need you to do something for me," the a'laq said. "I need you to reach to the north with your magic and tell me if you sense anyone."

"Anyone?"

The man hesitated for an instant. "An army," he said. "Do you sense the Fal'Borna army?"

"Why me?" Grinsa asked, rubbing a hand across his eyes. "Why not Q'Daer or one of the other a'laqs?"

"Because I think you've done this more than they have. I think you've done it more than I have, and I'm… I'm concerned." He faltered again. "Please."

"All right," Grinsa said. "Where am I looking?"

"North. On or near the Horn. There should be an army of eight hundred or nine hundred Fal'Borna warriors."

Grinsa felt the blood drain from his face. "And you don't sense any of them?"

E'Menua shook his head. "No."

Grinsa closed his eyes and reached forth with his magic, much as he had done when he spoke to the a'laqs and passed Besh's spell to them. He sensed S'Vralna first. There were Qirsi living there still, but very few. The plague had taken its toll. Farther north, he sensed D'Raqor, a city of several thousand Fal'Borna, and he sensed a few smaller septs as well, beyond D'Raqor. But there was no army here. When he reached forth in this way he could see the magic of a Qirsi with his mind, as if it were a candle burning in darkness.

An army that size would have appeared as a bright blaze in the night. But he saw nothing. Demons and fire.

He opened his eyes again and looked at the a'laq. "Anything?" the man asked.

"No," Grinsa said. "Either the army isn't near the Horn, or every man who rode to meet the Eandi is dead."

"That's what I think, too," E'Menua told him.

He stood. Grinsa threw off his blankets and climbed to his feet as well.

"I was looking for P'Rhil or S'Bahn," E'Menua said. "Both of them should have been there with their warriors. But like you, I couldn't find them. There was no sign of them at all."

"What do we do?" Grinsa asked.

The a'laq exhaled heavily. "We have to tell H'Loryn and O'Tal." "Do you want me with you?"

"Yes," E'Menua said. "O'Tal will want to know that I'm not mistaken or lying."

E'Menua woke one of his warriors and sent the man to find the other two a'laqs. Then Grinsa and he woke Q'Daer and L'Norr. Before long the six of them were standing together around a fire. The sky above them was dark with clouds, and snowflakes fell on them and hissed in the small blaze.

"The army has been wiped out," E'Menua told them.

O'Tal looked incredulous. "What?"

H'Loryn shook his head. "Impossible."

"I just reached for them," E'Menua said. "Not only couldn't I find any of the Weavers, I couldn't even find their men. None of them. I had Grinsa try. He couldn't find them, either."

"I don't believe it," O'Tal said.

"Try it yourself."

The young a'laq closed his eyes for several moments, his brow creased in concentration. He stood that way for what seemed a long time, until at last he opened his eyes again, looking stricken.

"Blood and bone," he whispered.

"It's true then?" H'Loryn said, a tremor in his voice.

"Could they have gone somewhere else?" Grinsa asked, ignoring him for the moment. "Somewhere we haven't thought to look?"

O'Tal shook his head. "It's only been a few days. Where else could they have gone?"

"Is it possible they went south instead of north?"

"No," O'Tal said. "We saw them ride off. They went north, and they wouldn't have turned around without letting us know."

"But how could they all be dead?" H'Loryn asked. "Even if the Eandi had managed to defeat them somehow, some would have escaped. There might be wounded, or prisoners. But you're saying that there's no one at all?"

"The Mettai," E'Menua said. "It has to have been some spell of the Mettai.”

Grinsa had to agree. H'Loryn was right: If it had been a normal battle, there would have been survivors. But if it was magic, as E'Menua suggested, that could explain how every last man had been lost.

"So what do we do?" H'Loryn asked.

"We continue north, and we fight," O'Tal said, staring at the old man as if daring him to disagree.

E'Menua nodded his approval. "That's right. We'll find a way to defeat the Mettai, and then we'll crush the dark-eye army."

"Yes, of course," H'Loryn said, as if willing himself to be brave. "My warriors will be ready to ride when you give the word, E'Menua."

E'Menua looked grim but determined. "Good. We've still a few hours until dawn. I'm going to try to sleep. The rest of you should, too."

The others turned and started back toward the warmth of their sleeping rolls. Grinsa had every intention of doing the same, but the a'laq spoke his name quietly, stopping him. Q'Daer halted as well, eyeing both Grinsa and E'Menua.

"Go," the a'laq told him. "I just need to speak with the Forelander for a moment."

Q'Daer frowned, but after a moment he left them.

"This would be a good time to tell me all that you learned from the Mettai about their magic," E'Menua said when they were alone. "I had no idea they were capable of anything like this. I don't think any of my people did."

"I'm not sure Besh and Sirj did, either," Grinsa said.

"You'll tell me what they told you?" E'Menua asked.

"Yes, of course. To be honest with you, Besh and I spent most of our time talking about the creatures they could conjure. That was what you were most concerned about, and the idea that they can conjure beasts of any sort still amazes me."

The a'laq scowled at this.

"I'm just being honest, A'Laq. Our magic, which can do so much, can't do anything like that."

"What's your point?" E'Menua demanded.

"That all of us were so concerned with dragons and demons, creyvnals and blood wolves, that those were the only spells we considered. Besh mentioned something to me, though-I didn't make much of it at the time, and neither did he. But it could explain what's happened to the other army."

E'Menua looked genuinely alarmed. "Demons and dragons don't explain it?"

"Not really, no. Even they might leave survivors. But Besh spoke of magic that could kill hundreds at a time. A poison spell, he called it. He didn't tell me how it works, and so I wouldn't know how to stop it, except…" He took a breath. "Except to try to kill every Mettai in the Eandi army. ”

"We intended to do that anyway," E'Menua said. "You don't know of any defense against this poison spell?"

Grinsa started to say that he didn't, but then stopped himself, recalling his own experience with Mettai magic. That terrible night when he nearly died from Lici's plague, Besh tried several spells on him, and each one fell over him like a cool mist. It seemed that even a spell that didn't lead to the creation of a fox or hornets or a creyvnal had to take some physical form.

"Forelander?"

"Fire magic," Grinsa said.

"What?"

"Mettai conjure with earth and blood, which means that all their spells have some form, some substance. They're not just thought, like ours are. It may be that they can be burned away. That is, if we see them coming."

The a'laq nodded slowly. "Yes. That makes sense." He looked Grinsa in the eye. "Well done." He started away. "Get some sleep, Forelander. We'll be fighting before long."

Grinsa returned to his sleeping roll, but he was wide awake. Again he considered reaching for Cresenne. But she would ask him questions about the war, which inevitably would lead to what had befallen the other army. The last thing he wanted to do was frighten her.

He lay down and pulled his blankets up to his chin. Snowflakes fell on his face and melted, running over his cheeks and into his hair like tears. After a few moments of this, he pulled the blanket over his head and eventually fell asleep again.