«I see.» The boyar's eyes twinkled. «Ah, to be young again!» he murmured. «But, my Prince, how are you surviving in Stargorod?»
Finist grinned. «Well enough. Most of the time I'm falcon. Otherwise… I—ah‑liberated clothing and funding from Svyatoslav. Leaving a properly apologetic note behind, of course. I must remember to send him a regal letter of thanks, prince to prince, when I return to Kirtesk. Which reminds me: Are tilings peaceful at home?»
The boyar understood instantly. «Quite peaceful. No one suspects you're undertaking anything but a—political mission.» His smile widened. «Have no qualms about continuing your courtship.»
Finist hesitated. «What about my cousin?» he asked warily.
Semyon's smile faded. «She… did try‑I mean, your royal cousin did attempt to—to — "
«To spy on me," Finist said coldly. «Did you obey my commands?»
«To the letter, my Prince. I fear the Lady Ljuba hates us all most heartily, but there she is, mirrorless, in her quarters, and there, till you countermand your orders, she will stay.»
Will she? «Semyon, I will check back with you at the next turning of the day. Keep me informed—about everything. Till then, farewell.»
He let the image fade and sat back, staring blankly, suddenly uneasy. «Cousin, now what game are you playing?» This incredible persistence wasn't like her. Could she be jealous? It stretched his imagination almost to the breaking point to picture cool, controlled Ljuba in thrall to any such mundane emotion. And yet, a plaintive cry echoed faintly through his memory, Ljuba's desperate: " I love you!»
Finist shook his head. «Aie, cousin, what am I to do about you?»
«What is that to me?» asked a harsh voice, and the prince let out a startled yelp.
«Ah, my lord leshy. "
«Magician‑man. Why have you returned? For your men?»
The mutable being was, for the moment, nearly as tall as Finist, lean as any predator, face sharp and narrow and green as grass, eyes flickering with an eerie light that in human eyes might have indicated the onset of madness. In a leshy—who knew?
Finist had no intention of staying to debate the subject.
«Your pardon. I did not mean to intrude. In fact, I'm just about to leave, and — " He stopped short. «My men? Leshy, I assure you, I have no men here.»
The alien eyes burned into his, dizzying Finist with tantalizing hints of ancient magics. But then the leshy turned away. «Mm. You tell the truth. So be it. Farewell, magician‑man.»
And with that, the being was gone, leaving a very bewildered Finist behind. Go, said the forest softly, wordlessly, and By all means! agreed the prince, and gladly took wing. Whatever had angered the leshy, it was surely none of his affair.
«Fine," said Alexei, wiping his brow. «That's done it. Eh, careful. Don't let it fall, not yet. Balance it… That's right.» He pointed to one of the—he hoped‑more intelligent of his men. «You, stand watch! As soon as you hear the merchant's party approaching, give the signal—Yes, fool! The usual bird‑call!»
«Uh—then what?»
Alexei sighed. «What do you think, dolt? Then we let the tree fall to block the road, take that screen of thorns we spent so much time weaving and pull it across the road behind the soldiers to block their retreat, and…» He gave an expressive shrug.
Clever, thought the watching leshy. But not so clever as I!
Silly humans—stupid humans. To kill here, in his domain, to kill one of his trees! He stood still as stone, invisible to merely human eyes, while all about, the birds fell silent, responding to the leshy's softly swirling anger.
Shall I play with them? the being wondered, eyes glowing with alien malice. Shall I lose them in the forest? For a moment, he hugged himself in glee, picturing the wild-eyed, frantic things. But then the leshy sighed.
Fun must wait. The wasted tree‑life must be-avenged. Yes, and he must find something to do with this new human, this city man who called himself the leader of those ugly creatures.
At least they have always feared me, respected me. But he—oh, he fears, yes, but not me. And he respects no one, nothing.
The leshy laughed, very softly, the sound of winter wind in frozen branches.
I shall play a new game with him. And he shall learn respect. Oh yes, I think he shall!
Chapter XXVll
By Moonlight
Vasilissa awoke with a start, staring blindly up at the canopy of her bed, her heart pounding. She'd had the dream again! As before, it had begun innocently enough, with Maria, smiling and happy, in the company of a fine, handsome young man. But slowly the mood of the dream had changed, slowly Vasilissa had come to realize that Maria was helpless, fallen completely under the young man's spell. No wonder, no wonder at all, because Vasilissa knew the horrible truth: this was no man, but a devil, a demon! He was out to steal Maria's soul, but no one seemed to care. Only Vasilissa knew the truth, but no one would believe her, no one would believe—
«This is silly, it was only a dream of course, only a dream.»
But then Vasilissa sat bolt upright, listening intently. Voices… Akh, it must simply be her father talking to one of the servants.
So late at night? It must be past the mid-hour. And wasn't that the sound of a muffled laugh? Two of the help having a romance? Here? In their master's private quarters?
No, she recognized Maria's laugh. And that other voice…
It was the voice in her dream!
Shivering, Vasilissa pulled aside the bed curtain and padded silently to the wall that divided their two bed‑chambers, ignoring her slumbering maidservant, pressing her ear to the cold, painted surface, listening…
«Oh, Finist! It's lovely!» Maria exclaimed as the prince held the thin, shining chain up to the candle's flickering light. «It looks almost like woven moonlight!»
«Why, it is woven moonlight, love! Don't expose it to sunlight, or—poof! — it'll dissolve into mist.»
«Really?»
Finist couldn't keep his face sorcerously somber. «No," he admitted, grinning. «It's silver. Truly. I wanted to give you something more substantial than those silly toys and flowers.»
Maria laughed. «I like those silly toys! Even if they're only illusions that fade the minute you turn away.»
He sighed. «I only wish it were more. You understand, the limitations of falcon-form, I can't carry anything very heavy and still get off the ground.»
«But how wonderful to fly at all! I envy you, love.»
«You should," he said, staring at her.
«Eh?»
«Having your love—what more could any reasonable man want?» There was a moment of awkward silence, then Finist forced a hasty laugh. «Now, let us see how this necklace fits.»
Maria reached out to take it from him, even as Finist started to slip it over her head. In the brief confusion, their hands locked. The silver chain wrapped itself about both their wrists in a shining bond that abruptly seemed to distort time and space so that for an alarming, wondrous moment Maria found herself looking at herself out of Finist's eyes, feeling his love, desire, longing—
Then he quickly disentangled the chain, and the moment was over.
«What was that?» Maria asked breathlessly.
Finist looked just as shaken. Maria reddened, realizing that he'd been sharing her emotions as well. But he answered steadily enough, «That, love, was a phenomenon known as linking. Mind-to‑mind linking.»
«But what does that mean?»
«It means," Finist told her carefully, not quite meeting her gaze, «we are so right together that our very ways of thinking were joined for a moment. No," he added hastily, seeing her start, «you don't have to worry about that sort of thing happening all the time, I promise you. It usually only occurs in moments of great emotional strain.» The prince paused thoughtfully. «In fact, I've never heard of it happening at all, save between two magical folk— Ah. I know what caused it.»