They'd been following her for some time, the whatever-they-were, drawn, Maria guessed, by the magical aura of her necklace. And while they hadn't actually done anything—yet—she was beginning to feel unnerved by the glimpses at the very corners of her vision of shadowy forms and pale, glowing, inhuman eyes. Something cried out— a bird? an animal? — with a sound very much like shrill, tittering laughter, and Maria started violently.
«Enough of this.» She held the silver chain out from her neck so it was clearly visible. «See? It's a necklace, that's all, a chain of silver. It was given to me by a magician. You may even know him: Finist, Prince of Kirtesk. Now, are you satisfied?»
They were, to judge from the whisperings in the bushes. But as she turned to go on, Maria found that she'd picked up a new, equally fascinated audience, the members of which—as far as she could tell in the deepening shadows-seemed to look something like hedgehogs. Hedgehogs with green fur, bright green eyes, and a tendency to giggle.
«Wonderful.»
At least the things—some type of forest sprites, she assumed—all seemed harmless. They were even, in their own strange way, a sort of company. But if so many magical creatures were able to gather by daylight (when, according to all the old tales she'd heard, nothing enchanted was supposed to be out and about), just what might be waiting for her by night?
No, Maria told herself firmly. I refuse to start worrying.
And yet, it was already twilight, and rapidly turning towards the night…
Akh, this was ridiculous! She had come all this way, she wasn't going to let herself be afraid of nothing.
But the swift forest darkness was overtaking her. She was beginning to have to peer to see her way. Better to stop for the night now, while she could still—
A sharp squeal of alarm made her jump. All her little green-eyed, giggling friends vanished in a frightened rustling of bushes. Then the forest was still, unnaturally still. Remembering the deadliness of two innocent-seeming larch trees, Maria, hand going to the silver necklace, turned, ever so warily…
What was that shadowy Something? Strain as she might, she couldn't see it clearly in the darkness, save to note that it was large and filled with a strange, boneless, supple power. And it was stalking her. Silent as death, it was stalking her, radiating a dreadful cold amusement at her fear.
«All right!» she shouted at it defiantly. «Maybe I am afraid! But I'm not going to run! And I'm not going to stand here like a little fool and let you scare me right into your jaws, either!»
But how could she fight something she couldn't even see clearly? How could she fight something that was sending wave after wave of terror at her?
The leshy? No, she had no hold on him; he would have no reason to answer her.
The necklace? It was silver, and magical—
Quickly she pulled the chain over her head and held it up, silver glinting bravely even in the darkness, and the Something, darker still than the night, flinched. But it stood its ground. And that cold mockery radiated from it, beating at her mind till Maria ached to simply turn and flee. But blind flight would surely be the death of her.
Maria straightened, listening intently. Now that the forest had fallen s6 still, she could hear other sounds, and one of them… Water? Free, rushing water? All the old tales said that creatures of evil couldn't cross rushing water! Maybe the tales were right, maybe they were wrong, but right now, they were the only hope she could find. Gathering up her skirts, Maria ran towards the sound of water with all her might. The moon was rising, the cold silver rays beginning to pierce through the forest, casting a ghostly light, just enough to let her see where she was going.
Then the earth was crumbling beneath her feet, and Maria threw herself backwards, just in time to keep from tumbling down the slight embankment into the water:
No mere stream, this, but a lake, fed at one end by a narrow ribbon of a waterfall, a lake silent and beautiful and eerie in the chill night, a flat mirror of silver shadowed here and there by grey or indigo or black shadows, its boundaries hidden by mist.
Beauty wasn't going to stop her pursuer. Maria glanced wildly back—and a cold, slim, inhumanly strong hand closed about her wrist, pulling her backwards, towards the lake. Desperate, Maria lashed out with the silver chain as best she could, feeling the magical metal whip across cool flesh. There was a wild hiss of pain, then she was free, scrambling about on the damp, slippery earth to face her attacker.
A woman!
She was naked in the moonlight, standing half out of the lake waters, one hand languorously brushing back long curtains of hair as fair as her pale, pale skin. She was too slim, too long of arm and leg for true humanity, from the sharp, triangular face, broad at forehead, narrow at chin, to the sleek, supple muscling beneath that smooth skin. Her eyes were green and wild and empty as emerald flame as she stared at Maria and gave a soft, throaty laugh.
Maria asked in shaken wonder, «Rusalka?»
«Rusalki," corrected the woman-thing. «See, here are my sisters.»
They were all around her, the strange creatures, slim and lovely and deadly as any predator. And predators they were, these women who had drowned by chance or design and been reborn to this parody of life, hating humanity, feeding off it when someone fell into their grasp.
As I have done! thought Maria in horror. That great, dark thing was illusion, their illusion, to drive me here to them.
«Pretty maid," one of the rusalki was crooning. «Brave, pretty thing. We shall not make you suffer, no, not like the others. We shall drown you swiftly, and feed. And who knows? Perhaps your spirit will join us, and play in these waters forever.»
«Thank you, no," said Maria wryly. «This is a lovely lake, and I—I'm sure you're very happy in it. But I'd really rather not join you.»
«No? You have no choice, pretty maid!»
They were closing their circle about her. In another moment, she would be forced into the water—
«Wait!» cried Maria in desperation. «You—you see, I do have a choice!»
They stared at her with those fierce, disconcertingly empty eyes, waiting with inhuman patience, and Maria racked her brain frantically. What did the old tales have to say about rusalki? That they were deadly, yes, that they were cruel and alien as cats… What else? Someone must have found a way to escape them!
«Riddles!» Maria cried, and the green eyes blinked. «I challenge you to a riddling contest!»
«So-o!» one of the rusalki crowed. «And do you dare, little human?»
«I dare!» Relieved to see the deadly ring draw back, Maria continued hastily, «It's to be a contest in the old style, three riddles for one of you, three for me!»
The rusalka who had first spoken gave her soft laugh. «I shall be your opponent, pretty maid. And if you cannot answer one of my riddles, mine shall be the hand to draw you underwater.»
«Fair enough. But if you can't answer one of my riddles, then I go free, and you have no further hold on me! Agreed?»
The rusalka smiled thinly. «Oh, agreed.»
«Do you swear it?» Maria persisted, not liking what she saw on that thin, fair face. «Swear by… by whatever you hold sacred.»
The lake-woman chuckled at that. «Oh, brave little human! Few are the things such as we hold sacred! But I will swear, by the moon and the lake and the living forest. Will that do for you, pretty maid?»