The Shining Falcon

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.»

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.