The Shining Falcon

It shouldn't take that long, now that I can travel by wing. I can meet with Svyatoslav and talk some sense into him, without being away from my own realm more than a few days longer…

He sought out Maria. «I — " No; he certainly couldn't tell her anything of the truth. «Maria," the prince began again lamely, «no matter what's already happened, no matter what else may come to pass, don't lose hope. Things will yet be well for you.»

Her smile was weary as age. «Finn, you're a kind man. I only wish I could believe you.»

That night and the next, Finist secretly tested his magical strength till he was satisfied it had fully returned, till the renewed Power raced wildly through his veins.

He said no good-byes. On the third night, Finist stole silently away to avoid awkward questions. Alone and unobserved in the forest—unobserved by humanity at least— the prince shifted into falcon-form and launched himself into the air. Of course, flight would have been easier by day; flight was always easier when there were the sun-warmed currents of air to ride. But any flight was glory! Finist spiralled up and up on steady wings, crying out his joy, a falcon's sharp cries.

And then, catching the wind under his wings, he soared out into the night towards Stargorod, and justice to come.

Chapter XVIII At Court

«I repeat," said Semyon wearily to the earnest faces staring at him, «Prince Finist told me, and I can only believe him, that he's well and unhurt, and will be returning to us in a few days.»

There was a rumble of confused conversation from the other counselors: «But where — "

«Why — "

«Safe? Is he really — "

«Yes!» exploded Semyon. «The only thing wrong with him, as far as I could tell, was a touch of the sort of fever — "

«Fever!» That triggered a whole new eruption of alarm, and Semyon sighed and shouted, in his most officious voice:

«Order! Boyars, order! Prince Finist is not, definitely not, seriously ill! He assured me of that himself, and I, for one, have no reason to believe he was lying!»

«Yes, but are you sure he wasn't under duress?» came the anxious cry. «How do you know our prince isn't a prisoner somewhere, and — "

«He's not a prisoner!» shouted Semyon. «If he were, we'd have had some sort of ransom demand by now, wouldn't we? I saw him, I tell you, I saw him surrounded by free and open forest, and we all know our prince has nothing to fear from the forest. So enough of this hysteria. Let us take Prince Finist at his word, and get down to business so he'll have a neatly running land to which to return!»

* * *

«… to which to return!» The words echoed faintly in Ljuba's ears, as though they'd come from even further away than the royal palace, as she stared intently into her mirror, watching the boyars as fiercely as ever hawk watched prey.

Finist spoke to Semyon, not to me. He never even thought of me. The insulted little thought raced through her mind, but the young woman angrily shut it away. Of course he had sent his image to Semyon! Who else would he trust to take charge? Ljuba could only hope, with the boyars, that the prince really was alive and soon to return. But what if I tried to take power now, came the seductive little thought, now, while he's away? She gave a short, humorless laugh at that, only too well aware of her limitations. Oh, Ljuba supposed she might, with care and a judicious use of potions, control Semyon's will. But control the entire council? Impossible.

All she could do was watch, and wait, and‑interfering forest demons or no—try to find Finist. She'd see for herself that all was well.

The city of Stargorod was buzzing with excited curiosity. «Did you see them return?»

«Did you see the terror in their eyes?»

«They came out of the forest, didn't they? What did the forest do to them?»

Prince Svyatoslav was wondering the same thing. These were hardly the elegant, well‑disciplined soldiers he'd sent to hunt for Danilo. And their captain! Svyatoslav had expected some fear to be in the man's eyes. After all, he'd blatantly failed to find the boyar, and he couldn't have forgotten his prince's threat of death. But the captain's eyes reflected more than a simple fear of execution.

«What is this?» asked the prince, straightening regally on his throne. «Why do you come before me in such a sorry state? And where is Danilo?»

«Dead, my Prince.» The captain's voice was flat. «Almost certainly dead.»

«How do you know?»

«My Prince, my investigations proved that he could only have escaped into the forest. He wouldn't have had time to reach anywhere else.»

«Agreed!» said Svyatoslav impatiently.

«So we went after him. We went into the forest, into that—that forest…»

«Go on, man!»