The Shining Falcon

Chapter XXVll By Moonlight

Vasilissa awoke with a start, staring blindly up at the canopy of her bed, her heart pounding. She'd had the dream again! As before, it had begun innocently enough, with Maria, smiling and happy, in the company of a fine, handsome young man. But slowly the mood of the dream had changed, slowly Vasilissa had come to realize that Maria was helpless, fallen completely under the young man's spell. No wonder, no wonder at all, because Vasilissa knew the horrible truth: this was no man, but a devil, a demon! He was out to steal Maria's soul, but no one seemed to care. Only Vasilissa knew the truth, but no one would believe her, no one would believe—

«This is silly, it was only a dream of course, only a dream.»

But then Vasilissa sat bolt upright, listening intently. Voices… Akh, it must simply be her father talking to one of the servants.

So late at night? It must be past the mid-hour. And wasn't that the sound of a muffled laugh? Two of the help having a romance? Here? In their master's private quarters?

No, she recognized Maria's laugh. And that other voice…

It was the voice in her dream!

Shivering, Vasilissa pulled aside the bed curtain and padded silently to the wall that divided their two bed‑chambers, ignoring her slumbering maidservant, pressing her ear to the cold, painted surface, listening…

«Oh, Finist! It's lovely!» Maria exclaimed as the prince held the thin, shining chain up to the candle's flickering light. «It looks almost like woven moonlight!»

«Why, it is woven moonlight, love! Don't expose it to sunlight, or—poof! — it'll dissolve into mist.»

«Really?»

Finist couldn't keep his face sorcerously somber. «No," he admitted, grinning. «It's silver. Truly. I wanted to give you something more substantial than those silly toys and flowers.»

Maria laughed. «I like those silly toys! Even if they're only illusions that fade the minute you turn away.»

He sighed. «I only wish it were more. You understand, the limitations of falcon-form, I can't carry anything very heavy and still get off the ground.»

«But how wonderful to fly at all! I envy you, love.»

«You should," he said, staring at her.

«Eh?»

«Having your love—what more could any reasonable man want?» There was a moment of awkward silence, then Finist forced a hasty laugh. «Now, let us see how this necklace fits.»

Maria reached out to take it from him, even as Finist started to slip it over her head. In the brief confusion, their hands locked. The silver chain wrapped itself about both their wrists in a shining bond that abruptly seemed to distort time and space so that for an alarming, wondrous moment Maria found herself looking at herself out of Finist's eyes, feeling his love, desire, longing—

Then he quickly disentangled the chain, and the moment was over.

«What was that?» Maria asked breathlessly.

Finist looked just as shaken. Maria reddened, realizing that he'd been sharing her emotions as well. But he answered steadily enough, «That, love, was a phenomenon known as linking. Mind-to‑mind linking.»

«But what does that mean?»

«It means," Finist told her carefully, not quite meeting her gaze, «we are so right together that our very ways of thinking were joined for a moment. No," he added hastily, seeing her start, «you don't have to worry about that sort of thing happening all the time, I promise you. It usually only occurs in moments of great emotional strain.» The prince paused thoughtfully. «In fact, I've never heard of it happening at all, save between two magical folk— Ah. I know what caused it.»

Confused, Maria protested, «But I'm no magician!»

«That doesn't matter.» Suddenly the professional, he continued, «The silver was the thing. The chain is of silver pure enough to have acted as a focal point, particularly since I was foolish enough to try to have something to do with its forging and ended up accidentally cutting myself and spilling a drop or two of blood into the mixture. The magic of blood could only have strengthened the focus, so that — "

«Finist," Maria said gently, «I repeat, I am not a magician.»

«Ah. Sorry.» His grin was quick and rueful. «This isn't frightening you, is it?»

«You know what's going on, and it doesn't frighten you, so why should I be alarmed?» she retorted, almost truthfully, and Finist gave a delighted little laugh.

«Maria, my clever darling, I do love you! Come, I'll try to explain. You did know that silver is the most magical of the pure metals?»

«I thought that was only a fable.»

«Hardly. You see, it gets its Power from its ties with three of the most Powerful natural forces: Earth, its parent; Moon, its mystic twin; and Night, time of the Old Magics.» He grinned. «Just as gold has ties with two forces.»

«Earth, of course," hazarded Maria, «and… Sun?»

«Exactly. Earth doesn't dim gold's brightness, Sun doesn't fade it. And copper, while we're on the subject, is the Fire metal, since Fire only heightens its color.»

«That leaves out iron. What about iron?»

Finist winced. «The magician's foe," he said shortly.

«But why? It's of the Earth; surely — "

«Maria, iron is the only metal without ties to other forces to temper its strength. It is bound only to Earth.»

«I don't see what…»

«Air and Water rust it, Fire alters its basic form.» Finist sighed. «Love, to put it simply, most of my magic comes from within me, from the focusing of my will, my energies, my life-force if you will. I can, however, use certain rituals to tap into outside Forces.»

«Such as Earth, you mean?»

«You say that so lightly! Think of the strength of Earth. Think of mountains upthrust and land torn apart with the ease of a child smashing a toy. Do you think that is something any merely human soul can command? Iron bears within it all that Force. Magic can be worked on it, but that's a perilous thing to try. Worse, the contact of iron against a magician's skin overwhelms the will with Earth-force, confusing any spell‑In short, its touch bans magic.»

Finist. stopped, frowning slightly. «Now I have frightened you. Love, please don't worry. I'm not a demon, to disintegrate at iron's touch! I don't become fatally poisoned if I cut myself with the stuff, either!» He added with wry honesty, «Though I must admit that iron-wounds are uncomfortable things for magicians, causing spectacular fevers, and healing much more slowly than other injuries. It's a small enough price to pay for magic!»

The prince struck a dramatic pose, laughing. «There. You've lasted out my lecture. Now, my lady, your reward.»

He slipped the silver necklace smoothly over her head, this time being careful not to touch her. As she settled the chin in place, touching the shining links with a wary hand, Finist breathed, «Ah, lovely!» adding with a jokingly melodramatic flourish, «I am indeed fortunate to bear the love of the boyarevna Maria Danilovna.»

With extravagant gallantry, he bent to kiss the hem of her gown. But a suddenly chilled Maria pulled away, the mention of her full name reminding her, as it must, of her father.

It's none of his affair! she thought defiantly. After all, aside from the scandalous fact that she and Finist had spent several nights together, alone, they'd done nothing for which either of them could truly be censured, even though she knew he—and to be honest, she, too—burned for more than those few reasonably chaste kisses they'd exchanged in their brief meetings.

«Finist…»

«What is it, love? What's wrong?»

She bit her lip. «Nothing.»

But she was thinking of how it was with more ordinary couples. While, properly, it should be the fathers, not their offspring, who first suggested alliances and betrothals, it still wasn't unheard of for two young people to fall in love quite on their own. But in such a case, the young man must go to his beloved's father to sue for her hand, the father must give his permission; he had all legal rights over his daughter, after all, and without his consent, there could be no marriage.

Marriage. She wasn't sure Finist even had such an idea in his mind. She wasn't even sure she wanted it.

For an instant, a wicked image raced through her mind, she and Finist running off to live in delicious sin… But then it was as quickly replaced by her father's face, sad-eyed and anguished for his daughter's sake. Dear Heaven, how could she ever think of hurting him like that?

Maria sighed. Why try to pretend? Oh, she was grateful to Finist for respecting her honor, or at least she told herself she was. And these past nights had been the most wonderful in her life. But they'd have to end unhappily. How else? As soon as Danilo learned the truth, he'd try to exorcise Finist, or—royalty or no—have him burned!

How much longer can I remain chivalrous? wondered Finist.

And yet the prince was forced to admit that something besides honor controlled him. He couldn't quite forget the memory of a sleek golden form, lit by candlelight, half-hidden by candlesmoke, of a room close with the scent of burning wax and perfume, of joyless lust where there should have been delight… Oh, no. There would be nothing like that for Maria. When they came to share a bed, let it be with wonder, with honest pleasure, not with shame.

I want her, all at once he knew it, I want her as my wife.

The impact of that so sudden, so final realization quite stunned him.

My wife … Finist repeated weakly. But at the same time, something deep within him was singing, Yes, oh, yes! And now that the first shock was wearing off, he wondered why he had been surprised at all. He had known virtually from his first sight of Maria that she was the one for him, that he must love her then and now and forever. And she—oh, the wonder of it was enough to leave him weak and shaken, but—she loved him! She did love him! And after all this midnight courting, after the magic of their linking, it should be clear to both of them that they belonged together, so let him gather up his courage and be bold, just like any ordinary man with his love, and say what he meant to say.

Come now, Finist chided himself, it shouldn't be so difficult.

Shouldn't it? Amazed, bewildered, the prince suddenly found himself shaking, as dry of mouth as though he'd tried some spell far beyond his powers.

Ridiculous. He swallowed nervously, and began, «Maria…»

«Yes?»

«Maria, I…» The prince stopped again, struggling for words. This really was the most ridiculous— He'd faced down angry boyars, sly ambassadors, all without a trace of nerves to him, but now—

«Maria," he began once more, doggedly. «We've been together now for a time, before, when I was—ah—Finn, now, here in Stargorod, where I can be myself, and I think I must ask‑I mean — " Finist stopped with a little exclamation of self‑disgust. «Do you love me?»

«My dear, you know I do!»

«You know—at least, I pray you know—that—that I love you, as well.»

«Finist, love, what are you trying to say?»

«I— Few princes ever have to worry about this sort of thing. It's taken care of by their ministers in cold-blooded political deals, the sort of thing into which emotion never enters. But I—I — " Dammit! «Maria, will you marry me?»

The young woman stared at him blankly, plainly as stunned as he'd just been. «Are you allowed to ask that? I mean, aren't you supposed to clear things with your boyars first, and — "

«I am their prince," Finist said flatly. «They will support my wish.» He stirred uneasily. «Akh, but I don't mean to sound so pompous! Maria, love, they won't protest. That is, if you‑Maria, please! Will you marry me!»

He saw the realization of what he'd said at last sink in, And to his horror, he watched her eyes well up with tears. Blinking fiercely, biting her lip, Maria turned sharply away.

«Oh, Finist, I can't!»

«I… see.»

«No, it's not like that!» She whirled to face him again, pleading, «Believe me, I want to say yes‑more than anything, I want to say yes! But I can't, not without my father's approval!»

Finist stiffened as though she'd struck him. «Maria, he'll never give his approval, you know that, not to a magician, someone he sees as damned.»

«We—we don't know that," she lied painfully.

«Oh, believe me, we do.» The prince gave an angry, weary little sigh. «You see, in a manner of speaking, I've already asked him. Oh, no, not in so many words. I… spoke with him in a dream. And what I learned…»

At first, there'd been nothing but hatred, blunt, unreasoning hatred, and fear so strong Finist had been sure the man would wake, and wake shouting. But behind the fear had been grief, such painful grief that Finist, pitying, had nearly broken contact then and there. Then all at once Danilo's sleeping self had cried out in anguish:

«Sorcery slew my wife!»

And, in response to Finist's shocked query, he'd continued, «She‑Maria's birth was a difficult one. After that. '. . there could be no more children after that. But—but she would never believe me when I said that it didn't matter to me, that all I wanted was my dear one alive and well… She wanted so to give me a son… And when prayer seemed useless, she… In secret, she went to a sorcerer. She did whatever foulness he demanded. She drank his foul potions. And they killed her!»

Shaken, Finist had tried to insist that it hadn't been a sorcerer, but some fool of a charlatan who'd poisoned her through his sheer ignorance, that magic, true magic, had had nothing to do with it. But he couldn't pierce the wall of hate.

«My wife was avenged at the stake! But magic didn't die in that fire! Oh, no, its seductive evil is still very much alive, waiting for other poor innocent souls‑If any sorcerer ever dares touch either of my daughters, I swear that I shall see him writhe in flames—and my hand will hurl the first torch!»

Finist repressed a shudder at the memory.

Maria was staring at him. «Finist? Are you all right?»

«I… Do you know how your mother died?»

She blinked, surprised. «Why, not really. Lissa and I were both very young—Father told us she died of fever. Why do you ask?»

Finist sighed. He couldn't tell her the truth, he couldn't hurt her like that. «Akh, never mind. Let's just say I know without a shadow of doubt that your father will never, ever give his approval to our marriage.»

«Ah…»

The resignation in her eyes angered him. «All right, then! Forget him!»

«Finist!»

«You say you love me — "

«I do!»

«Then come with me, now!»

«What are you saying?»

«Nothing dishonorable, I swear it.» He rushed on before she could interrupt, «My powers will see us both safely to Kirtesk. And then… oh, Maria, can't you imagine it?» Fighting to keep his voice level and cajoling, Finist continued, «Picture the two of us together, on the throne, in our bed, picture us as husband and wife, happy people all about us, our people, shouting benedictions. Picture it, Maria, and come with me. In Kirtesk we can wed as we will, and — "

«We couldn't. Finist, our marriage wouldn't be legal.»

«But it would! In Kirtesk, the law allows a woman to marry as she will, assuming, of course, she isn't trying to wed close kin, or — "

«I can't. Finist, I'm sorry, I just can't.»

«You can! Maria, listen to me. There's no shame about this. We'll wed, and be happy, and — " But she wasn't listening. She was still her family's slave, and Finist added in a savage burst, «And Danilo can go to — "

«He's my father!» Maria gasped, anguished.«I can't just leave him!» She turned away, biting her lower lip so hard that Finist ached to cry out to her, Oh, my love, I don't mean to hurt you like this! Back to him, Maria continued, very carefully, «Maybe you're wrong. We haven't tried him, after all. Yes, I admit it, he hates magic, but he does want me to be happy. If he only has a chance to see the love between us‑Maybe if we both go to him and—and explain how things stand, he'll give his consent after all.»

«And maybe Stargorod will go floating off into the clouds!»

«Stop that! I—I don't know what else to do!» The weary curve of her shoulders made him take a step towards her, but before he could put his arms about her, she added softly, «Finist, love, what about magic? Can't you… bespell him?»

He stared at her back. «Do you know what you're saying?»

«Oh, I don't mean anything dangerous, just some harmless little spell, just enough to soften his heart so he'll give his consent and not worry about — "

«Any spell powerful enough to alter his thinking," Finist said flatly, «would not be harmless.»

«I—I'm sorry. I didn't know.»

«Akh, Maria, enough. Don't let him do this to you!» It was a cry of sheer frustration. ' 'Don't let him spoil your life! Leave him here with his fears. Come with me.»

She whirled to face him, eyes enormous in a wild, flushed face. «Oh, it's so easy for you, isn't it?»

«Now, what does that mean?»

«You, who can just fly away from anything that bothers you!»

He winced. «It isn't like that.»

«Isn't it?» She continued in a soft, fierce, anguished voice, «You're a prince! Who would dare say no to you? No one! No one save me!»

There comes a limit even to magical self‑control. «And is that what you want?» Finist shouted. The force of it snapped Maria back to herself, gesturing to him frantically, and the prince belatedly lowered his voice. «Do you want it to be over between us?» Oh God, if she says yes…

«Akh, Finist, what do you think? Of course I don't! But Lissa and I are all Father has left to him. I can't hurt him like this.»

«And what about me?» Finist knew how selfish that sounded, but he was past the point of caring. «What about us?»

«Don't do this to me! Father‑Lissa—they depend on me, they always depend on me — "

«And you prefer it that way, don't you? Of course, I should have realized. It's safer that way.» He saw her flinch in pain, but kept on relentlessly, «You don't have to think about the outside world, no, your father and sister need you, you don't have to worry about leading your own life or — "

«No! How dare you mock my life, you who've never suffered any hardship and — "

«Maria! I only wanted you to see how your father is using you!»

«Stop it!» Hands over her ears, she burst out, «I don't want to hear this! I don't want to talk about it! Please, leave me alone!»

«Maria — "

«Leave me alone! I—I need some time to myself.»

«Time, is it? Then time you shall have!»

His shout became the shriek of a falcon. Raging, aching, Finist hurled himself out into the night sky, shutting his ears to the sound of Maria's hopeless sobs behind him.

And in her bed‑chamber, Vasilissa moved away from the wall, smiling. All was well:Maria had cast out the demon. Oh the girl might weep and wail for a time, instead of being sensible enough to fall to her knees and thank Heaven for her deliverance. But at least it was over, and Maria was safe.