"How do we do this?" Sirj asked quietly.
"The ants are easy," Besh said. "It's the rest of the spell I need to work out." Mettai magic worked best when the elements were recited in groups of four. This spell would be too complicated to be accomplished with four elements, which meant that he needed eight, or perhaps twelve.
"We need to send them in a mist," Sirj said. "They can only become ants when they reach the Qirsi. Otherwise this will never work."
"I agree."
He heard whispers and light footsteps coming from the shelters around him. The Fal'Borna were stirring, preparing for this battle. Before long they'd be ready for his magic.
"Blood to earth," he muttered, practicing the spell, the words empty of magic without his blood. "Life to power, power to thought, earth to mist, mist to magic…"
Sirj was watching him, waiting. Seeming to realize that Besh had faltered, he frowned. "Three more elements."
"I know," Besh said. "But I'm not sure how to finish it. That's the hard part-getting the incantation right."
Sirj repeated the spell as Besh had spoken it, trailing off at the same point.
Besh scoured his brain, searching for the right words for the spell, knowing that he was close. He wished that he hadn't tried any of that sweetgrass whiskey. His mind felt sluggish, and he knew that he wouldn't have a second chance to get the spell right if he failed the first time. Still, nothing came to him, and he began to grow frustrated.
"She's coming," Sirj whispered.
Besh looked up to see the n'qlae walking toward him, followed by Cresenne, who no longer held her child.
He drew himself up, preparing to tell the n'qlae that this magic couldn't be rushed.
"We hear horses moving again," the woman said before he could speak. "I fear the J'Balanar have noticed all the activity in our sept. We need to act now."
"Is it possible they'll move on?" Sirj asked. "Perhaps find another settlement?"
She shook her head. "I don't think so. It's more likely that they're taking up new positions, or that they're preparing to attack before dawn. Are you ready?" she asked Besh.
What choice did he have? "Yes," he said.
Sirj shot him a look, but Besh kept his eyes on the n'qlae.
"Good," she said. "We are as well." She started to make her way toward the south end of the sept, leaving Besh and the others with little choice but to follow. "They seemed to be moving in this direction," she said as they walked.
"All of them?" Besh asked.
She slowed. "I'm not sure."
Besh halted, and began to retrace their steps. "We should start in the west, since that's where they were."
The others looked like they might come with him, but Besh held up a hand to stop them. "Just Sirj and me. We'll try to stay out of sight. You keep going to the other side of the sept. Let them believe that we think they've gone there."
The n'qlae nodded and started south once more.
Sirj and Besh went back to the west end of the settlement, taking care to keep low to the ground, lest the J'Balanar were watching.
"Have you figured out the spell yet?" Sirj asked in a hoarse whisper.
"No, not yet. But it'll come to me."
Sirj looked at him. "When?"
"Soon, I hope."
They crept past the last of the shelters, and pulled their knives free. Besh reached for a handful of dirt and cut his hand, catching the blood on the flat of his blade. He mixed the blood and dirt and then closed his eyes.
"Blood to earth, life to power, power to thought, earth to mist, mist to magic, magic to Qirsi…" He trailed off again. He only paused for an instant, but that was long enough. He even managed a smile. Why limit the spell to the warriors, when he could disrupt the J'Balanar's plans so much more? "Magic to horses, mist to ants."
He let the magic fly from his hand.
"You heard?" he said, looking at Sirj.
Judging from the grin on the man's face, he had. He chanted the same spell and threw the blood and earth in the same direction.
Already Besh could hear men muttering in the distance. They weren't directly in front of him, but it seemed that the spell had found its way to the Qirsi just the same. A horse whinnied, and then another.
"Come on," Besh said.
They ran back into the sept and to the southern edge, where the n'qlae and her warriors were waiting for them.
"It sounds as though your spell is working," the n'qlae said.
Besh smiled. "Yes, it does." Sirj had already grabbed more dirt and was cutting his hand. Besh did the same, and the two of them spoke the spell in unison before throwing it into the night. Once again, it didn't take long for them to hear voices rising in surprise and anger.
"You attacked their horses?" the n'qlae demanded, sounding displeased.
Besh knew that he should have anticipated this. The Fal'Borna were fiercely protective of their own animals, and were said to be as merciful with their enemies' horses as they were merciless with the enemies themselves.
"The animals are in no danger, N'Qlae," he said. "They'll have some discomfort, but that's all."
"We need to strike at them now, N'Qlae," Cresenne broke in.
The woman didn't appear mollified, but after a moment she nodded to Cresenne, and said in a soft voice, "Language of beasts."
Besh saw several of the Fal'Borna nod in response, but otherwise he couldn't tell what was happening. An instant later, however, he heard the sound of galloping horses and more angry shouts from the J'Balanar.
"Those of you with language of beasts go to the west end of the sept and send away the horses of the men there," the n'qlae said. She looked at some of her other warriors. "Shapers."
This time the sound that followed made Besh's stomach turn. He'd been attacked with shaping power; he knew how much it hurt to have the bone in his leg shattered by magic. The muffled cracks and screams of pain that rent the night brought back those memories far too vividly.
The n'qlae turned to look at several other Fal'Borna, and then at Cresenne. "Fire."
The flame seemed to rise from the ground, like an orange mist. But it fanned out quickly, lighting the night. Besh could see the J'Balanar now. Most of them were sprawled on the ground. Some were still upright, but were vainly trying to outrun the n'qlae's fire. They never had a chance. It swept over them like floodwaters, and when it had passed, all on the plain was still.
They could hear more shouts coming from the west, and the n'qlae wasted no time.
"Follow me!" she called, sprinting in that direction. Besh, Sirj, and the other Qirsi did as she commanded.
Before they could reach that end of the sept, however, they saw a second wave of fire. This one was headed toward the sept.
"Damn!" the n'qlae said. She halted, closed her eyes, and held out her hands.
Besh was running beside Cresenne and now he saw her stumble, right herself, and stop, swaying slightly.
Another wave of fire formed, sailed over the shelters that were still in front of them, and then swooped down to meet the J'Balanar's magic. The two walls of fire crashed together a short distance from the sept, lighting the night as if the sun itself had fallen to earth. But the enemy's flame was stopped.
The n'qlae started running again, shouting "Shapers!" as she went. Perhaps a dozen of the Fal'Borna women ran after her. The others followed, too. And before they made it past the last of the shelters another wall of fire was headed at them from the J'Balanar.
The n'qlae called on those with fire magic once more and sent another flame to meet that of the enemy. The two bursts of fire magic met farther from the sept this time, but the effect was much the same as it had been last time: brilliant and violent. He could see the J'Balanar beyond the conflagration, the dark markings around their eyes stark against their pale skin.
"Shapers!" the n'qlae said again, even before the fires had faded.
Silence, and then that terrible snapping sound, and the howls of agony.
"Why haven't they attacked us that way?" Sirj asked of no one in particular.