Confused, Maria protested, «But I'm no magician!»
«That doesn't matter.» Suddenly the professional, he continued, «The silver was the thing. The chain is of silver pure enough to have acted as a focal point, particularly since I was foolish enough to try to have something to do with its forging and ended up accidentally cutting myself and spilling a drop or two of blood into the mixture. The magic of blood could only have strengthened the focus, so that — "
«Finist," Maria said gently, «I repeat, I am not a magician.»
«Ah. Sorry.» His grin was quick and rueful. «This isn't frightening you, is it?»
«You know what's going on, and it doesn't frighten you, so why should I be alarmed?» she retorted, almost truthfully, and Finist gave a delighted little laugh.
«Maria, my clever darling, I do love you! Come, I'll try to explain. You did know that silver is the most magical of the pure metals?»
«I thought that was only a fable.»
«Hardly. You see, it gets its Power from its ties with three of the most Powerful natural forces: Earth, its parent; Moon, its mystic twin; and Night, time of the Old Magics.» He grinned. «Just as gold has ties with two forces.»
«Earth, of course," hazarded Maria, «and… Sun?»
«Exactly. Earth doesn't dim gold's brightness, Sun doesn't fade it. And copper, while we're on the subject, is the Fire metal, since Fire only heightens its color.»
«That leaves out iron. What about iron?»
Finist winced. «The magician's foe," he said shortly.
«But why? It's of the Earth; surely — "
«Maria, iron is the only metal without ties to other forces to temper its strength. It is bound only to Earth.»
«I don't see what…»
«Air and Water rust it, Fire alters its basic form.» Finist sighed. «Love, to put it simply, most of my magic comes from within me, from the focusing of my will, my energies, my life-force if you will. I can, however, use certain rituals to tap into outside Forces.»
«Such as Earth, you mean?»
«You say that so lightly! Think of the strength of Earth. Think of mountains upthrust and land torn apart with the ease of a child smashing a toy. Do you think that is something any merely human soul can command? Iron bears within it all that Force. Magic can be worked on it, but that's a perilous thing to try. Worse, the contact of iron against a magician's skin overwhelms the will with Earth-force, confusing any spell‑In short, its touch bans magic.»
Finist. stopped, frowning slightly. «Now I have frightened you. Love, please don't worry. I'm not a demon, to disintegrate at iron's touch! I don't become fatally poisoned if I cut myself with the stuff, either!» He added with wry honesty, «Though I must admit that iron-wounds are uncomfortable things for magicians, causing spectacular fevers, and healing much more slowly than other injuries. It's a small enough price to pay for magic!»
The prince struck a dramatic pose, laughing. «There. You've lasted out my lecture. Now, my lady, your reward.»
He slipped the silver necklace smoothly over her head, this time being careful not to touch her. As she settled the chin in place, touching the shining links with a wary hand, Finist breathed, «Ah, lovely!» adding with a jokingly melodramatic flourish, «I am indeed fortunate to bear the love of the boyarevna Maria Danilovna.»
With extravagant gallantry, he bent to kiss the hem of her gown. But a suddenly chilled Maria pulled away, the mention of her full name reminding her, as it must, of her father.
It's none of his affair! she thought defiantly. After all, aside from the scandalous fact that she and Finist had spent several nights together, alone, they'd done nothing for which either of them could truly be censured, even though she knew he—and to be honest, she, too—burned for more than those few reasonably chaste kisses they'd exchanged in their brief meetings.
«Finist…»
«What is it, love? What's wrong?»
She bit her lip. «Nothing.»
But she was thinking of how it was with more ordinary couples. While, properly, it should be the fathers, not their offspring, who first suggested alliances and betrothals, it still wasn't unheard of for two young people to fall in love quite on their own. But in such a case, the young man must go to his beloved's father to sue for her hand, the father must give his permission; he had all legal rights over his daughter, after all, and without his consent, there could be no marriage.
Marriage. She wasn't sure Finist even had such an idea in his mind. She wasn't even sure she wanted it.
For an instant, a wicked image raced through her mind, she and Finist running off to live in delicious sin… But then it was as quickly replaced by her father's face, sad-eyed and anguished for his daughter's sake. Dear Heaven, how could she ever think of hurting him like that?
Maria sighed. Why try to pretend? Oh, she was grateful to Finist for respecting her honor, or at least she told herself she was. And these past nights had been the most wonderful in her life. But they'd have to end unhappily. How else? As soon as Danilo learned the truth, he'd try to exorcise Finist, or—royalty or no—have him burned!
How much longer can I remain chivalrous? wondered Finist.
And yet the prince was forced to admit that something besides honor controlled him. He couldn't quite forget the memory of a sleek golden form, lit by candlelight, half-hidden by candlesmoke, of a room close with the scent of burning wax and perfume, of joyless lust where there should have been delight… Oh, no. There would be nothing like that for Maria. When they came to share a bed, let it be with wonder, with honest pleasure, not with shame.
I want her, all at once he knew it, I want her as my wife.
The impact of that so sudden, so final realization quite stunned him.
My wife … Finist repeated weakly. But at the same time, something deep within him was singing, Yes, oh, yes! And now that the first shock was wearing off, he wondered why he had been surprised at all. He had known virtually from his first sight of Maria that she was the one for him, that he must love her then and now and forever. And she—oh, the wonder of it was enough to leave him weak and shaken, but—she loved him! She did love him! And after all this midnight courting, after the magic of their linking, it should be clear to both of them that they belonged together, so let him gather up his courage and be bold, just like any ordinary man with his love, and say what he meant to say.
Come now, Finist chided himself, it shouldn't be so difficult.
Shouldn't it? Amazed, bewildered, the prince suddenly found himself shaking, as dry of mouth as though he'd tried some spell far beyond his powers.
Ridiculous. He swallowed nervously, and began, «Maria…»
«Yes?»
«Maria, I…» The prince stopped again, struggling for words. This really was the most ridiculous— He'd faced down angry boyars, sly ambassadors, all without a trace of nerves to him, but now—
«Maria," he began once more, doggedly. «We've been together now for a time, before, when I was—ah—Finn, now, here in Stargorod, where I can be myself, and I think I must ask‑I mean — " Finist stopped with a little exclamation of self‑disgust. «Do you love me?»