Free Mistress of the Solstice by Anna Kashina

he could ever find
peace.
    “Yes, they can be,” Raven said at
length.
    Ivan exhaled slowly, forcing his breath to quiet down.
“Then, why didn’t you tell me about
them in the first place?”
    Raven shrugged. “You didn’t
ask.”
    “I thought I did.”
    Raven’s dark eyes met his. “Listen,
boy, you captured me. But, don’t expect me to help you
as well. Ask your smart tutors, whoever they are, to get you out of the
mess you’ve gotten yourself into.”
He closed his beak with a snap and turned away.
    Ivan frowned. “I have you in my power! You are bound
to answer me.”
    Raven shrugged. “I have answered your every question,
haven’t I?”
    A retort froze on Ivan’s lips. True, Raven had answered
every one of his questions. Yet, Ivan hadn’t learned
anything. Why?
    The answer, when it came, seemed so obvious as it taunted Ivan from
the shadows of his own mind that he almost laughed out loud.
    Ask the right questions, you fool. Ask, and he will answer them, each
and every one.
    Could it really be this simple?
    “Answer me,” Ivan said firmly.
“What is the first trap?”
    There was a pause before the dark shape turned to him again, moving
stiffly within the airy bonds of the Net.
    “You’re not as daft as you look, boy.
Now, listen.”

 
    Marya

    I landed on the windowsill of my bedroom and folded my dove wings,
shaking off the dampness of the night air. My head still swam with
memories as I stood before my Mirror, changing back into my normal
form. My darkening hair, growing to its normal length. My cheeks,
losing their fullness and rosy color. My long black dress, its silky
folds caressing my skin, enfolding me down to my bare feet. Kirill
would wonder when he woke up and saw my peasant clothes still
heaped at the foot of his bed. I smiled at the thought.
    There was one more thing I needed to do before I could sleep.
    Noiselessly, I took the narrow winding stair from my
quarters to the kitchens. The damp, salty smell of boiling meat hit my
nostrils. My nose twitched. The Mistress of the Solstice did not eat
meat. Yet our castle, like any other royal dwelling, had to feed many
mouths. Every day the butchers in the back yard slaughtered a cow to
feed our household. The meat was cooked throughout the day and all the
bones and unwanted cuts were thrown into a giant pot constantly boiling
on the stove. The thick soup it became, called
‘ varevo ’,
was the late-night favorite of the tired kitchen staff.
    The meaty smell of varevo made my stomach
turn. I hadn’t eaten since morning, before
I’d embarked on my journey to the Pine Village. It
seemed ages ago. I swayed and clasped the wall until my balance
returned, before proceeding deeper into the warm belly of the kitchen,
its very stones saturated with the smell of food.
    I caught a movement out of the corner of my eye and froze.
    The side door creaked open and torchlight hit my face.
    “Mistress?” The voice was more
frightened than surprised.
    “Pavel?” I guessed, straining to
see against the blaze.
    He lowered the torch and hesitantly stepped forward.
Despite his height of almost a sazhen , his fear made
him look small.
    The commoners believed I brought bad luck. While understandable in the
villages, I thought the superstition surprising for the inhabitants of
the palace. Yet, many of them were born in villages and raised by old
wives. Solstice legends of the loveless, love-free Mistress who hunted
for virgins on Midsummer eve traveled far across the lands. Except for
Prazkovia and my handmaids, everyone in the castle took care to keep
their distance.
    “I—um—was out late,
t’tend to the horses. It’s mighty
chilly out there. Klava told me there’s some varevo left.
Er—forgive me, Mistress, for disturbin’
you.”
    He edged back into the doorway. He looked so miserable that I almost
smiled.
    “Go on, Pavel,” I
said. “You won’t disturb me. My
business here is short.”
    He nodded. “Should’n ye
wan’ that I shine some