The Shining Falcon

«Oh, now, that's impossible!» she said aloud.

«Not so.»

It was a woman's voice. Or… almost a woman's voice. Maria spun wildly, trying to locate the sound. And then she stopped, staring. This time the bushes did part, of their own accord, and a figure moved silently forward to stop just before the young woman. And if the child had been only remotely akin to humanity, this being was so alien— No, here in the forest, she, Maria, was the alien, and this one was part of the forest's own wild soul. Small and lithe, her green-furred form covered by the folds of a loose animal-skin caftan, the being shifted her weight from foot to foot with the unconscious grace of a wild thing, watching Maria from a narrow face as keen of feature as that of a fox. She had the sharp, not unpleasant smell of a wild thing to her, too. And she had horns, neat little goat horns.

Suddenly Maria remembered one of the old tales she loved so well. Fantastic as it might seem, the tale had just come to life before her eyes!

«Leshiye!» she gasped. «That's it! You're one of the leshiye, the lords of the forest!»

Mischief flickered in the dark eyes. «I am lisunka," she corrected in a voice that sounded both human and animal. «My husband is the leshy‑lord of this forest.»

«I see.» Maria, remembering just how alien these odd folk were said to be, how full of strange humors and rages, began to wonder uneasily if her deed of goodwill was going to wind up being the end of her. But when she curtseyed politely to the lisunka, the being only laughed, the rustling of leaves in wind.

«No, human-girl, no. We have nothing to do with the narrow human ways you call courtesy.» She stirred herself, listening. «My husband comes. He is not so easy with human-folk as I. Stand, and watch, and say nothing.»

Maria had no intention of disobeying. She saw nothing but a deeper shadow among the forest shadow, she heard nothing for a time but a bewildering series of sounds that were like no language she'd even imagined. But then the leshy said, quite clearly, «You have saved our child. Human-girl, the forest is in your debt.»

That sounded so portentous that Maria could only stammer, «But I didn't—I mean, I'm glad I was able to help the little one, and I'm glad he—uh—she? — uh—wasn't hurt. But all I did was release a lever. Surely you could have — "

«We could not. The trap was of cruel, deadly iron. We could not touch it. And the child would have slowly died. The forest is in your debt, human-girl. We shall honor that debt someday, when most you need it.»

Suddenly, bewilderingly, the leshy laughed—and that sound wasn't even remotely human. «But now, human-girl, go home. Go home before the night comes! Go home!»

There was a wild rush of wind, a shaking and lashing of the, branches that made Maria shield her face with her arms—and the leshy was gone.

«Go home, eh?» Maria echoed. «Believe me, I intend to!»

But even through her fear and bewilderment, a sense of sheer, joyous wonder warmed her all through the rest of that day, and through the long, wearisome days that followed. The leshiye are real. Magic is still alive in the world!

Chapter Xlll Storms

The wind was rising outside the window of the Ruby Chamber, calling to him, fiercely alluring. And how Finist ached to answer! But within the audience chamber, his counselors droned on and on about taxes, treaties, the price of corn and wheat, all the minutiae of daily life… Despite his best intentions, the prince felt his attention beginning to wander. Once more he found himself musing over that one unsolved puzzle: Erema.

I still could swear Ljuba had something to do with his attack!

But there wasn't any proof. And Ljuba, over the winter, had been quietly building up support among the palace folk, being oh-so-gentle, so willing to help anyone who needed her potions or healing charms.

What a lovely act it is. He could almost believe she'd taken his warning seriously. But to believe that Ljuba had changed so drastically in so short a time? I'm not that much of a fool!

His counselors had paused, aware suddenly of his inattention, and Finist reluctantly signalled to them to continue. After all, he'd summoned them. And he must, in all courtesy, hear them out. Even now, after three full turns of the hourglass.

But how can they expect me to concentrate now, when the wind is calling?

His heart had begun to race in time to its wild song.

Finist glanced down at his hands clenched on the arms of his chair, and saw a shimmering of feathers—

«Prince Finist? Ah, Prince Finist, one thing more, if it please you. We know you're young, but…»