The Shining Falcon

Well now, Maria admitted to herself, I'm certainly not going to call for help until I find out who he really is, and why he's come.

«Finist the falcon," she echoed, rather amazed at how calm she sounded. «That doesn't tell me very much. Who is Finist the falcon?»

«No one to harm you.» His amber eyes—hawk eyes, thought Maria—were very bright. «Ever.» He hesitated a moment, then said simply, «Lady, I am Finist, Prince of Kirtesk.»

Kirtesk… «Oh. Oh! The magician-prince!» To her astonishment, she felt herself grinning. «Oh, my. You'd - better not let my father know you're here. He—ah‑doesn't care for magicians.»

He grinned in return. «I know. That's precisely why I didn't appear to him.»

There was something about his voice, something so teasingly familiar… But that was impossible! «And why have you appeared?» Maria asked, adding belatedly, «Your Highness — "

«No, please, that's not necessary!»

But now she'd placed that voice. «Finn… ?» she whispered.

«You know me?» That came out as such a yelp of astonishment that Maria had to bite back a laugh.

«Then you are Finn! But why this disguise?»

«Ah, no, what you see now is my true self.»

«Then why… ?»

«Was I hiding all that time as lowly Finn?» He sighed. «Because, thanks to my own foolishness, I got caught aloft, in falcon-form, by a storm that finally dumped me close to where your father found me.»

Maria nodded. «And it wouldn't have been wise for a prince alone in a foreign realm to advertise his presence.»

«I bow to your wisdom.»

«But what I don't understand…» Maria stopped, horrified to feel tears welling up in her eyes, then determinedly started again, «What I don't understand is why you slipped away from us like‑like some criminal, without so much as a farewell.»

«Oh, Maria!» Finist breathed. «I never meant to hurt you, believe me! It's only that I had to be elsewhere, swiftly. And knowing your father's views on magic, I didn't want to frighten you by taking falcon-form in front of you.» He took a wary step forward. «Am I forgiven?»

«It's not for me to forgive a prince.»

«Please, don't…» He stopped, studying her with a birdlike tilt of the head. And Maria, bewildered, saw a hint of joy lighten the fine-boned face. «Ahh," the prince said, very softly, «but this is something more than mere insulted pride, isn't it?»

Maria felt a little shiver run through her at the brightness of that amber gaze. Despite herself, she found herself remembering becoming so sharply aware of Finn as male, as desirable… He was still desirable, more so in this new, exotic guise…

And this was a dangerous train of thought! Alarmed at herself, Maria said, a bit too sharply, «I don't know what you mean.»

«Don't you?» There was the faintest, most alluring hint of wildness hidden in that urbane voice. «Maria…»

Hastily she took a step back. «That dream was your doing, wasn't it? The one about seeking out the feather— your feather! Yes? But, why?»

To her amazement, he reddened. «I was afraid.»

«Afraid!»

«Oh, yes. I couldn't think of any more direct way to introduce myself, as myself, as a magician. I thought you might share your father's views.»

«About magic.» Maria thought of the forest, and the leshy, and smiled faintly in spite of herself. «No. He'd probably have me in a convent for saying this, but no, I don't fear it. But that doesn't explain what you're doing here! Unless… There were rumors at court about you, and‑It was you, wasn't it? Speaking to Prince Svyatoslav, I mean, clearing Father's name‑it was you.»

«Yes. Oh no, Maria, don't.»

She'd swept down to the floor in a deep curtsey. «Prince Finist, I offer the deepest gratitude of my father and myself.»

«Please, Maria.» He knelt beside her. «I couldn't not have done it, for the sake of justice. And… for your sake. But I didn't come here to hear words of thanks.»

Before she could rise, he captured her hands in his. Confused, overwhelmed by his nearness, Maria looked up into the bright amber eyes, wondering, seeing something of the same wonder she felt mirrored in their depths.

«Then… you can care for me…» Finist breathed after a time. «You can, you do!»

Maria panicked. Struggling to free her hands, she gasped, «No, I… Finist, please, this—this is improper. If my father should — "

«Come, admit it!»

«Please! Finn—akh, I mean Finist— You've got me so confused I don't know what I mean! Let me up.»

«Not till you confess it. Maria, you do care for me! Admit it!»

She stared into the falcon-fierce eyes, so unlike those of Finn in their alien color, so familiar in their warmth. And all at once that warmth was racing through and through her, till all she could do was cry out, «Yes, I do! Finn, Finist, I always did!»