The Shining Falcon

She held up the bottle of mead.

«Swiped from the royal cellars, eh?» said a guard. «We could have you reported for that, you know.»

«And waste the mead?» The other guard laughed. «Not a chance! Go ahead, wench. Look at the fine boyar all you want.»

Maria stood on tiptoe, peering through the narrow win‑dow at her father, aching to see how sad and hopeless he sat, longing to call to him, all the time waiting, heart pounding, for the sounds that would say the drugged mead had had its effect… What if they didn't drink enough? What if they realized something was odd about the taste of it and refused to drink it at all? She doubted she and Lissa and Sasha could silence two trained guards, not without noise. And to actually kill someone…

But just then she heard a soft thud, a sigh, a snore. Maria breathed a quick prayer of thanks, then dropped to the side of one of the slumbering guards, carefully withdrawing the precious keys. Her hands were shaking so much she had to fumble with the lock, and there seemed an impossible number of keys to be tried. . other guards came checking? What if— There!

Her father looked up with a start as the door creaked open. As he recognized Maria, his eyes widened in astonishment. But Danilo was too well schooled in the various shocks of diplomacy to do anything but silently rush out of the cell, enfolding his daughters in a quick, fierce hug. Sasha, meanwhile, had been slipping out of the kitchen disguise he'd been wearing over his own clothes. Maria asked him in a hurried whisper, «You'll be all right?»

«Of course, mistress. I'm supposed to be in the palace, remember. No one's going to be suspicious if they see me leaving, not so long as I'm leaving by myself.»

Danilo had been coolly donning the discarded rags. «Yes, but I doubt you've got permission to be down in the prison area. If anyone sees you leaving here, they're going to be sure you were aiding, and abetting the… traitor. Be careful!»

«Yes, my lord. But you… ?»

Danilo glanced at his daughter and gave a quick grin. «They saw three kitchen scullions enter, they're going to see three scullions leave. No one's going to care about us, not if we go out through the kitchen.»

«Sasha," added Maria, «God be with you.»

«And with you, mistresses, master.»

«Indeed," muttered Danilo. «Come, hurry!»

They made it into the vast royal kitchen with so little trouble that, perversely, Maria felt almost disappointed, as though all the tension had been for nothing. Don't be a fool, she told herself sharply. You aren't safe yet. Surrounded by the bustle and noise and varied cooking smells, she bit her lip, wondering now just how long those sleeping guards were going to remain asleep. How long before someone came to check up on them? How long before an alarm was sounded?

It was too much for Vasilissa. Trembling, she sank to a bench, moaning, «I can't go on! I can't!»

«Oh, Lissa!» Maria fought down a sudden hot urge to slap her sister. That wouldn't help anything. Instead, she bent to catch Lissa by the shoulders, whispering desperately, «Lissa, please! We don't have time for this now!»

To her horror, she realized they'd attracted the attention of one of the kitchen sluts. «She sick?»

Maria forced a grin. «Just… you know… woman troubles.»

With a shrug, the slut turned away, and Maria bent to her sister again. «Do you want Father to die? Well? Do you?»

«Of—of course not.» Tears welled up in the beautiful, vague eyes, and Maria ignored her surge of pity and pulled her sniffing sister to her feet.

«Then come on!» she hissed.

Danilo, meanwhile, had casually strolled to a pile of refuse-filled sacks. With a slight gesture to his daughters, he flung one of the sacks over his shoulder with the self‑confident air of someone doing a familiar job. No one objected. Of course, thought Maria, and she hurried to follow her father's lead. «Come on, Lissa!»

Quickly Maria picked up a sack, staggering a bit under the unexpected, smelly weight, and stared at her sister till Vasilissa had done the same.

«Just follow me,» murmured Danilo. «We should be able to make it to the refuse heap, and from there, out of the palace.»

Single-file, they left the kitchen, Maria tense with the expectation that someone was going to notice. But no one said a word.

We're going to make it, we're actually going to make it…

A hideous screaming of trumpets blared through the palace—

The alarm had been sounded.

Chapter V Ghosts

«We'll never escape!» Vasilissa's weak gasp of terror was almost drowned beneath the trumpets' blare, the blasts of Alarm! Alarm! «We're trapped!»

«Not yet, we're not.» Danilo had thrown aside his sack and was searching on hands and knees amid a pile of debris. «Somewhere about here… Yes, here it is! Now, if only I can still get it open…»

As his daughters watched fearfully for guards, he pulled aside a narrow, rusty grating.