Every Solstice, every year, a young girl dies to prolong the life of a madman.
While the girl's soul is fed to Kaschey the undead by his daughter, the gloriously beautiful Marya, the girl's body drowns in the clutches of Vodyanoy at the bottom of the Sacrifice Pool.
Every Solstice a hero tries to stop them...and dies.
But this is Ivan's year. Though his brothers plot his death, and the villagers whose daughters are dying warn him not to interfere, Ivan the Fool is determined to stop the sacrifice.
With the help of the immortals, gotten by sympathy, force, or guile, Ivan believes his love will save the beautiful Marya from herself.
Excerpt
Marya
I stood beside my father and watched the girl drown. She was a strong one. Her hands continued to reach out long after her face had disappeared from view. The splashing she made could have soaked a flock of wild geese to the bone. She wanted to live, but there was no escape from the waters of the Sacrifice Pool.
I looked at my father’s handsome profile. His pale face, awash with moonlight, looked magnificent. The power of the Solstice enfolded him. It made me proud to be at his side, his daughter, his head priestess. He was the one who mattered. The only one.
The girl’s struggle ceased. The rippling water of the lake stilled, glittering in the silvery light of the near-full moon. We watched the flicker of the glowing candles set in the flower wreaths as they floated downstream. A few of the wreaths had already sunk—bad luck for their owners, who would most likely die before the next Solstice. Maybe one of them belonged to the next Sacrifice Maiden?
My father peered into the amber depths of the lake.
“A fine sacrifice, Marya,” he said to me. “You did well.”
“Yes.” I closed my eyes to feel the familiar calm wash over me. I was detached. I didn’t care. I didn’t even know her name.
My eyes still closed, I sensed my father throw off his cloak and stand naked, his arms open to the cool night breeze.
“Bring her to me, Marya,” he whispered.
I kept my eyes closed as I stretched my thoughts, seeking out her body tangled in the weeds on the bottom of the lake, seeking the spark of life that still remained there, trapped, beating in terror against its dead shell like a caged bird. I reached for it, brought it out, and gave it to my father. I sensed the moment the two of them became one, her virginal powers filling him with such force that the air around us crackled with the freshness of a thunderstorm.
He sighed, slowly returning to his senses. I kept my eyes shut until he found his cloak on the damp grass and wrapped it around his shoulders, once again becoming himself. The Tzar. The immortal. The invincible.
The Undead.
We could hear people singing in the main glade. The celebration was at its full. Soon they would be jumping over the bonfire. As the night reached its darkest, quietest hour, they would break into couples and wander off into the forest. ‘Searching for a fern flower’ they called it. Fern has no flowers, of course, but blood of virginity spilled on the Solstice night glows like a rare, exotic blossom of true passion. Those who found their fern flowers tonight were blessed by Kupalo.
I could hear the whisper of every leaf, every tree, and every flower in the forest. This was the night when the powers of Kupalo roamed freely in the world; this was the night when everyone’s mind was clouded by Love.
Except mine. Love had no power over me. My mind was free.
One year later . . .
Ivan
The room smelled of dust and stale bread. It looked far smaller than it had last night.
The woman—Ivan had never managed to catch her name—scooped ashes out of the large stove. There was a squeaking in the corner, and as he watched the woman’s soot-stained hands, a gray shadow darted past her skirt and across the floor. She paid it no notice.
Ivan moved his pack away from the wall and leaned on his elbow, enjoying the warmth of the morning sunlight creeping in through a dusty windowpane.
The man at the table raised his eyes from the mug and stared.
“What is the Chosen maid’s name?”
The man sighed. “I’m warning you one last time. Let it be. You’re an outsider. You’ll never understand.”
Ivan held his gaze. “I’d like to try. If you would be kind enough to explain, old Father.”
The man’s gaze was heavy, unblinking. It was hard to read his expression.
“We’ve had many heroes come to our kingdom,” the man finally said. “They never asked any questions. They knew exactly what was going on and what they needed to do. And yet, they all failed. Why do you think you’ll get anywhere by asking questions?”
“Because,” Ivan said, “I’m not like any of them.”
Professional Reviews
Black Sun Reviews
"...Ivan and Marya is tightly, beautifully written, and in such a way that it reads like a fairytale. Tight, but also expansive enough to satisfy readers of novels, who want a little extra introspection. A little more description. This novel has it in spades. Rich description, fascinating characters with dark motivations and even darker methods, and scenes that keep the story moving ever forward. Anna Kashina does not waste a single word.
I adored all the dark elements of course. It was one of the reasons I was so hot for this particular release. How much of it is Anna Kashina’s own world building and how much of it is true to the old tale, I cannot rightly say. But if it is true to the story then it sounds like she paid a great deal of homage to it. Because I was absolutely hooked. I actually forgot to take notes because I couldn’t stop reading, so engaged and enchanted I was by the story. I couldn’t put it down, and it ended up taking my entire afternoon from me when I was supposed to have been doing other things. Which is probably the highest compliment a reader can give to a writer.
It helps that I am fascinated by Russian culture (I’m studying the language as well, actually). And I loved the little bits of insight I got from reading Ivan and Marya.
The romance was sweet. I only wish there had been a little more of it, or a little more interaction between Ivan and Marya. But I’m not displeased with the scenes where they did interact, and the other characters are so fascinating unto themselves that I didn’t mind devoting my attention to them. Chief among these were Wolf, Baba Yaga, Oskana and The Cat.
I definitely recommend Ivan and Marya to any lover or dark fantasy or romance. Or for those of us who want a bit of both..."
Soleil Noir, Black Sun Reviews
Pearls Cast Before a McPig
"This novel is a re-telling of an old Russian fairytale and as such a very enjoyable read. Kashina manages to capture all the elements that make fairytales such fun to read and adds a voice of her own to it as well. I loved how she wrote a large part of the story through the eyes of Marya, giving Marya a depth that wouldn't have been possible if Kashina had stuck too close to the original fairytale format...
...all in all I think Kashina did a great job in reviving an old tale and turning it into something that modern readers can enjoy."
Sullivan McPig
The Fantasy Tavern
"Immortals, primals, shapeshifters, and mere humans populate Ivan and Marya, a dark and daring fantasy novel by Anna Kashina. Taking inspiration from Russian folklore, Kashina has created a captivating fantasy novel about how love can be exploited or liberated...
...The writing throughout the novel is lovely and deeply inspired by the natural world. The thorns on bushes prickle your skin, the lichen hanging from trees tickles your cheeks, and the hazardous swirling waters of the Sacrifice Pool chill you with the thought of gurgling death.
...My experience reading Ivan and Marya was very positive. It was like experiencing a fairy tale during a fever dream. My only complaint would be that the end felt rushed and lacked the emotional outpouring I was expecting. Based on my enjoyment of the characters and the writing skills of the author, I rate Ivan and Marya four bottles of love potion."
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