"They probably haven't fought the Eandi yet," H'Loryn was saying. "As soon as they do, they'll reach for one of us. You know they will."
E'Menua nodded vaguely but said nothing.
"You think they've fought them already and lost," O'Tal said.
"I don't know what to think," E'Menua said. "I only got here yesterday, so you know better than I do how many warriors and Weavers they had, and how soon they thought they'd reach the Horn. I I…" He shrugged. "I have a bad feeling. That's all."
"Maybe we should head to the Horn now, then," Grinsa said.
The others looked at him, their expressions revealing little other than surprise at the fact that he had spoken.
After a brief, uncomfortable silence, H'Loryn said, "We're supposed to wait here for warriors from other septs."
"Yes, I know, A'Laq," Grinsa answered, trying to keep his tone respectful. "But won't any army, even one this size, do more good reaching the Horn in a timely way than a larger force would if they arrived too late?"
O'Tal and E'Menua shared a look. For once they appeared to be in agreement.
"He raises a good point, H'Loryn," O'Tal said.
E'Menua added, "We can reach for the Weavers who are supposed to join us here, and tell them where we've gone. But I'd feel better knowing that we're doing something, even if it is just riding north."
H'Loryn looked scared, as if he didn't wish to admit the possibility that something had gone wrong with the army that had already ridden to the Horn. But at last he nodded his agreement. "Yes, all right."
E'Menua looked at his Weavers, including Grinsa. "Ready the men. I don't want to linger here any longer than we have to."
"Yes, A'Laq," Q'Daer said.
Grinsa started to follow the younger Weavers, but E'Menua caught his eye. "Thank you," he said.
The Forelander merely nodded, and hurried after the others.
It was a small force, and the Fal'Borna warriors responded to orders with alacrity. It seemed only moments before the men were astride their horses, thundering northward. They rode hard throughout the day, pausing only long enough to eat and drink a bit and keep their horses fresh.
By the time they camped for the night, Grinsa was stiff and sore and wearier than he had been at any time since leaving the Forelands. He ate a small supper, the feast of the night before seeming a distant memory, and then lay down to sleep. Many in the army camp remained active, but Grinsa fell asleep almost at once.
He was awakened some time later when someone gently shook his shoulder.
"Forelander. Forelander, wake up."
Grinsa opened his eyes. It was dark still, though a fire burned low nearby. E'Menua squatted beside him, his tapered face in shadow.
"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."