The Shining Falcon

«Oh, no, I didn't mean any discourtesy! I only meant — "

«Come, child, enough. Would you save Maria's soul?»

Her soul!» gasped Vasilissa. «Of course I would!

«Listen, then…»

Please, tell me what I must do!» The golden being smiled faintly.

Ljuba broke contact with a gasp of exhaustion, falling full‑length on the floor. Ugh, but the melting potion was cold and slimy! With a little cry of disgust, the young woman wearily dragged herself to her feet, and collapsed onto her bed. Lying there, staring up at the embroidered canopy, she began to laugh.

The little idiot had thought her an angel, and believed her every word! But would she be able to carry out her instructions properly? Ljuba's laughter faded. All at once she found herself shaking with a chill that had nothing to do with the physical. What if the stupid girl went too far? What if, in her zeal, Vasilissa decided to act on her own, or tried something too dangerous, or—

Stop this! Ljuba snapped at herself. It would work, of course it would! She didn't dare start doubting now. It would work, and Finist would be hers.

But… if it failed…

Ljuba groaned in dawning horror. If her plan failed, she might just have given what amounted to Finist's death sentence.

I've got to stop her!

Struggling to her feet, Ljuba tried again and again to restore the mental link with Vasilissa, tried till her head ached and her body shook with exhaustion. But it was useless; she hadn't the strength. Whether she willed it or not, her plan had been set into motion.

She wouldn't weep anymore, Maria told herself fiercely. Yesterday had been… yesterday, and though she ached to recall the words she'd said in anger, the past wasn't to be changed. Tonight she'd sit here in her bed‑chamber, and hope—no, she would believe that Finist would forgive and return. Together, they'd find a way out, a way that would see Danilo yielding to them, and letting them wed. «Wed," Maria said softly. «Wed to Finist…» That he was a prince did give her pause, just a bit, and the fact that she'd be a princess in a city foreign to her.

But she could endure anything, adapt to anything, with Finist at her side. And at any rate, as a boyar's daughter, she'd been trained to accept that someday she would marry a noble who would almost certainly be a stranger to her, who might take her away to foreign lands. Who just might turn out to hate and abuse her… Maria shivered at the thought. Wonderful, to think of Finist as her husband instead—warm, kind, loving Finist…

Why was I such a fool? When he asked me to wed him, why didn't I just fling myself into his arms? Why, oh why did I send him away? She bit down on her lip, hard. He must return to me. Dear Heaven, he must!

He'd been flying for what seemed an eternity, right through the night and the next day, pausing only to snatch a dove on the wing—as falcon, he wasn't squeamish about raw food—flying on till sheer wing-weariness drained the anger from him.

Akh, Maria, why was I such a fool? Why did I pressure you like that? Why didn't I give you more time to think things through? The prince stabbed his talons fiercely into the branch on which he perched. I can't leave it like this! God, no, I've got to go back!

Wings spread, Finist leaped into the air once more.

Maria started violently as someone knocked on the door to her bed‑chamber, thinking for one wild moment, Finist! But that was ridiculous, he'd have no need for a door.

«Maria? Are you still awake?»

«Lissa!» Maria cast one last, longing glance at the window and the empty night sky beyond, then sighed and went to open the door to her sister. «Lissa, love, what is it? What's wrong?»

The young woman was virtually shaking with tension, but she blurted out, almost defiantly, «Nothing! Why should anything be wrong?»

«Akh, Lissa. What is it? The foul dreams again?»

«No, I—I just couldn't sleep, and I thought I'd see if you were awake, too. See, I—I had the servants prepare us some warm milk. I thought we could drink it together, the way we used to do when we were children.»

Gigglings and gossipings and childish secrets… fragments of warm memory raced through Maria's mind, and she smiled faintly. Although warm milk was the last thing she wanted right now, the young woman said gently, «Of course, love. Come, sit here beside me.»

Lissa had poured the milk into two goblets. «To happiness," she toasted diffidently.

«To happiness," Maria echoed willingly, and drank. She stopped, puzzled. Lissa, who'd been watching her intently, straightened.

«What's wrong, Maria? Is it too sweet?»

«Not sweet enough! Are you sure this milk is fresh?»