The Shining Falcon

«But that's ridiculous! Danilo couldn't have vanished into thin air. He must have left some clue!»

«No, my Prince. It's a vast forest, and… well, since the boyar was no woodsman, I think we can safely assume he's dead by now.»

«No, we can assume nothing! Have you questioned his servants?»

The captain sighed. «All of them. But without applying force — "

This time it was Svyatoslav's turn to sigh. «No.» Much as he'd dearly love to torture the truth out of those sly peasants, he had his royal image to consider. The people already seemed to be uncomfortably on the side of the vanished Danilo; if he put an entire household to the torture, they just might revolt. An image of rebellion and bloodshed sped through Svyatoslav's mind, and he shuddered. But Danilo was a traitor, and he could hardly let a traitor go unpunished—what if the man had gone to join Rostislav?

The captain was staring at him. Svyatoslav recovered his composure with an effort. «I am not pleased," he said sternly. «Not pleased at all. Captain, I begin to wonder if you're not in sympathy with the traitor yourself.»

«I!» The man's eyes were horrified. «Oh no, my Prince! I am loyal to you, only to you, you must believe that!»

«Are you? Then I shall give you one last chance. Go out there and find me the traitor Danilo, and bring him back to me—or you shall die in his place!»

God, he'd never thought things would work out this way! Alexei, gnawing at his lips, paced back and forth in the bedchamber that had once belonged to boyar Danilo. It had been difficult enough to do what must be done, to speak softly and innocently, to see a man condemned to death—a man he knew to be innocent. But now, to know Danilo was still alive, to know he might be anywhere at all… If he should return, if he should bring proof against Alexei… The young man shuddered. It wasn't fair, it just wasn't fair! Why did Danilo always torment him? Why couldn't the man have died?

But this sort of whining wasn't doing any good at all. «Sasha!» Alexei called sharply.

No response. The young boyar stifled an oath. Damn the man! Damn them all! It had been like this ever since he'd taken charge, slow service, ineptitude that could only be deliberate. If he hadn't thought to hire his own cook, he'd have been afraid of being poisoned every time he took a bite. And who knew but that someone might not get to the cook— No, he was getting as bad as old Svyatoslav!

If he could afford it, Alexei thought, he'd be rid of the lot of them, bring in his own staff.

But even Danilo's funds wouldn't go quite that far, not after Alexei had used them to repay… debts. At least he still had his own guards.

Oh, yes, if he could ever get anyone to call them! He shouted for Sasha again. But of course, there still wasn't a response.

«Damn you! If you weren't the overseer of this estate, I swear I'd have the life flogged from you," Alexei hissed, and went in search of the guards himself. The prince's men hadn't been able to find the boyar so far; now Alexei would mount his own search. He would end this ridiculous, uneasy way of life once and for all.

All winter there in Kirtesk she'd led that quiet, virtuous life (Virtuous? her mind taunted. What about those lovers?), all winter Ljuba had waited, watching Finist carefully, waiting for his suspicions to die from lack of evidence and sheer inertia. Now the spring had come, and with it, nothing but horror and denial.

Finist couldn't be dead! She'd have known it, she'd have felt it!

Ljuba wiped back limb strands of golden hair from her face and began anew, staring into her mirror, whispering the proper phrases till the surface clouded… clouded…

«Finist," she murmured. «I must see Finist. I will, I shall see Finist…»

And once again the mirror seemed to be clearing, just as it had all the hundred times so far. Again she saw only a tantalizing hint of—what? Trees? The forest?

«I will see Finist, damn you!» she muttered. «I will see Finist!»

And Ljuba threw into her magic all the strength left within her, focused… and yes, this time the scene was clearing. She could see a face-But it wasn't Finist's face. A strange sharp face, like some unholy mix of fox and human, green-furred and feral, stared back at her, wild eyes fierce with mockery. Leshy, thought Ljuba, horrified. «You will show me Finist!» she told it savagely.

The leshy only laughed, as though it had heard her quite clearly.

But that's impossible! It can't be seeing me. It can't be hearing me.

«Can't I?» said a faint, mocking voice. «Forest-hater, tree-threatener, did you think I'd not recognize the feel of you?»

And then, eyes glinting with delight, the being made an obscene gesture at her. Furious, terrified, Ljuba hurled a candlestick at it. But of course, she only hit the mirror.

As the young woman sat, panting, drained, in the middle of glass shards, she heard someone gasp.