To Tirnya's great relief, her father appeared to be all right. But they wouldn't be safe for long. More than ever, she understood why the Eandi had fared so poorly in the latter years of the Blood Wars. And at last she realized that this invasion was a mistake, just as Enly and her father had warned it would be.

"Eldest!" she heard her father shout over the continuing cries of the wounded. "Whatever magic you have left, use it! We can't take another assault."

Fayonne stared back at him. After a moment, she nodded.

"No!" her son said, his voice carrying as well.

The eldest eyed her son. Then she raised her blade over her head and called to the other Mettai, "We've spoken of this spell. We know how to do it. This is the time."

"I won't do it!" Mander said, even as his mother picked up more dirt and cut herself yet again.

Fayonne looked up at him and spoke, and though Tirnya couldn't hear her, she could see what the woman said. "Then don't."

The Mettai spoke as one in low voices and then threw their spells. This time the mud turned to that same silvery mist Tirnya had seen them conjure so many times before, and soared over the plain toward the Fal'Borna army.

An instant later the Mettai conjured another set of walls, though Tirnya didn't understand why until she saw the stone fracture again. More Eandi soldiers died, but again the Mettai conjuring saved countless lives.

Tirnya heard a cry go up from the Qirsi lines and then saw the grasses near the Fal'Borna flattened as if by a hard wind. She assumed that the white-hairs were trying to slow the advance of the Mettai's spell. It didn't work.

She heard more cries, saw Fal'Borna grabbing at their throats. And then the Qirsi began to topple off their horses. After another moment, even the horses started to fall. She'd seen how the Mettai sleeping spell worked. This was different. There was something… sinister about how those men and animals collapsed to the ground. Within moments, there wasn't a single white-hair warrior or horse remaining upright. Not one.

Usually she would have expected to hear a roar of triumph from an army that saw its foe vanquished so. But most of the Eandi soldiers merely stared at the prone bodies of the Qirsi. Aside from the low rustle of the wind, and the moans and sobs of wounded men, Tirnya heard nothing at all.

Tirnya looked at the eldest again. She stood with her arms hanging at her side, her bloodied knife still in one hand, dark earth clinging to the other. She looked utterly spent, and there was a haunted look on her face. Her son stood beside her, obviously horrified.

"Report!" Tirnya's father called, his voice ragged.

Tirnya started toward her father, walking slowly. She felt weary, though she hadn't done anything more than stand there and watch.

After a moment she realized that Enly was walking beside her. She glanced at him, and their eyes met briefly. Then she looked away.

As they approached Jenoe and the Mettai, Tirnya heard the eldest's son say, "That spell should never have been used again! It was forbidden centuries ago! And for us in particular-!"

"That's enough, Mander!" the eldest said.

"What spell did you use on them?" Jenoe asked, sounding as if he didn't want to hear the answer. "Are they asleep?"

"No," Fayonne said. "It was a poison spell. The Fal'Borna are dead." Jenoe took a long breath and nodded.

"Then at least we don't have to go and kill them."

"I didn't know Mettai magic could do that," Gries said, staring at the bodies of the Fal'Borna.

"It's a spell from long ago," Fayonne told him, damp hair clinging to her brow. "I wouldn't have used it if we hadn't been desperate."

One of Hendrid's captains approached them, his face deathly pale, one of his arms hanging limply at his side. He stopped in front of Waterstone's marshal and saluted. Tirnya saw that there were tears on his face.

"Report, Verin."

"We're still counting the dead, Marshal. The last…" He swallowed. "The last I heard it was five hundred."

Hendrid closed his eyes briefly and rubbed a hand over his beard. "Blood and bone." He looked at his captain again. "How many wounded?"

"I don't know, Marshal," Verin said. "Hundreds."

Hendrid sighed and nodded. "I see you're one of them. I want you to get that arm splinted. And keep me informed. I'll want a final count."

"Yes, Marshal."

"Now are you ready to listen to me?"

They all turned. Torgan Plye stood nearby, holding the reins to his horse.

For a moment Tirnya thought her father would pull his sword free and run the man through. His eyes blazed and his hands appeared to be trembling. He opened his mouth to speak-probably to remind the merchant that he'd been banished.

But at that moment, a series of odd, strangled cries rose from the far left flank of the army. Turning to look that way, Tirnya saw several Eandi soldiers grabbing at their necks much as the Qirsi had done, and falling to the ground.

"Gods save us all!" Mander said, his voice barely more than a whisper. Jenoe had a frown on his face. "What's-?"

"It can't be!" Fayonne said, her face ashen.

"Of course it can!" Mander told her, his tone harsh. He turned to Tirnya's father. "The poison spell is coming this way! It might be the wind or… or something else. But we all have to get away from here as quickly as possible!"

"Blood and bone!" Jenoe still looked confused, as if unsure of what to make of this Mettai magic, which always seemed to turn against them. But he didn't waste time. "Signal a retreat!" he shouted to his captains. "South, along the river!"

"What about the horses?" Tirnya asked him.

He looked toward the far end of the camp again. Tirnya did the same. Men were dying by the moment, and others were already starting to flee. "Quickly, Tirnya! Untether them. If they follow, they'll be saved, but don't delay if they linger. I'd rather lose horses than soldiers." And I don't want to risk losing you.

He didn't have to say this last. She read it in his eyes.

"I'll go with you," Enly said.

She didn't object. Together they ran back to where the marshals, captains, and lead riders had left their horses. The animals were still there, all of them alive. Tirnya could hear orders being given above the tumult of death cries and shouting. She and Enly worked wordlessly and in moments had all of the animals untied. Enly started slapping the animals on the haunches and shouting for them to run. Some did. Others bolted short distances before stopping again. A few ran the wrong way, back toward where the poison spell had killed soldiers. They hadn't gone far-not far at all-before several of them began to thrash violently. In moments they had collapsed to the ground, their flanks heaving. And then they were still.

"Come on!" Enly called. "It's getting close!"

He was running again and Tirnya sprinted after him. She could see their horses. Thirus, her sorrel, was just ahead of Enly's bay. They both shifted directions slightly to intercept the animals. For all they knew, they couldn't outrun the poison, but perhaps they could outride it.

She whistled for Thirus, and immediately the animal stopped and turned toward her. Enly's horse halted at the sound of his whistle. They reached the animals and swung themselves onto their backs.

"What about the others?" Tirnya asked, breathless, her eyes scanning the mass of soldiers for her father.

"There's nothing we can do for them," Enly said. "If we try to bring your father's horse to him, or do the same for any of the others, we risk slowing ourselves down too much." He eyed the army briefly, apprehension in his pale eyes. "They're moving, and most of the horses are moving. That's the best we can hope for."

She nodded. She could see Jenoe now. He was near the head of the army. He would run several paces, then pause to urge his men on and mark their progress before running farther himself. Men at the back of the column continued to fall, so that the army appeared to leave a trail of broken bodies in its wake. But the number of those afflicted seemed to be decreasing. Perhaps they could outrun it.