Riyal's Transformation this relatively simple spell, less than fourth order, shrinks the subject to the size of a field mouse.
He drew lines on the floor with something white and waxy, then positioned three candles on the resulting design before seating himself cross-legged at the center.
He lit the candles one by one while mumbling something Kirna could not make out, then set out a dagger, two scraps of fur, and two tiny, bright-red objects Kirna did not recognize. The mumbling turned into a rhythmic chanting, and his hands moved through the air in curious patterns.
Every so often he would lean over and move one of the objects, and sometimes he was holding a lump of the white stuff, sometimes he wasn't.
...
The air was thick and hot, and she had trouble seeing clearly, whether from sleep or smoke she was not sure. All the candles had burned out but one, which was down to a smoking stub; the design on the floor had vanished, but an identical design of white smoke hung in the air a foot above where it had been drawn. The dagger was sheathed and on Deru's belt, and the other things were gone.
"Stick out your tongue! Quickly! We need to do this before the candle goes out!" Confused, Kirna stuck out her tongue, and Deru quickly pressed something onto it, a tiny something that tickled and scratched, and stuck.
...
Deru was holding out a piece of fur; he reached over her shoulders with it, then stretched it out. She could feel it on her back, and it seemed to be stretching out forever.
...She looked up at Deru, who seemed to be taller suddenly. The ceiling was rising up away from her, as well. The ceiling was rising up away from her, as well.
"It's the skin of a field mouse," Deru said, as he wrapped it around her.
She tumbled from the bed, and it was a much longer fall than it should have been; she landed on her hands and knees, her palms stinging with the impact. Her vision blurred.
When it cleared again she clambered to her feet and looked up.
Deru stood before her, unspeakably huge, the pack on his shoulder the size of Quonmor Keep; between the gigantic pillars of his legs she could see the smoking stub of candle, taller than she was. The pattern of smoke hung over her, out of reach. She looked up, and up, and up.
Deru was putting a tiny red thing on his own tongue; that done, he took a scrap of gray fur and lifted his hands up over his head.
And then he began shrinking. The mouse-pelt didn't stretch; Deru shrank.
And moment later he stood before her at his normal height, a few inches taller than herself, as the candle flared up and went out and the pattern of smoke dissipated...
