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Book Review of Chernevog

Chernevog
Chernevog
Author: C. J. Cherryh
Genre: Science Fiction & Fantasy
Book Type: Paperback
reviewed on
Helpful Score: 1


In Rusalka's sequel Chernevog, we are once again transported via historical fantasy to pre-Christian Russia with Sasha and Pyetr, who had thought their adventures were over. Sure, they were still living in an enchanted forest whose population included wizards, magical river-things, house-things, yard-things, forest spirits, banniks, and people in various states of being dead... but things had pretty much settled down, and so had Pyetr with his new wife, whom Sasha was ever dutifully trying to appease.

Sasha was not a young boy anymore, and felt out of place in the young couple's house, and yet he would not leave his best friend Pyetr, and even if he did, there was nowhere for him to go. This, however, was not the reason Pyetr's wife felt increasingly uncomfortable with him; nor was it because both she and Sasha were wizards, and wizards find it hard to get along together. Rather, she had a most disturbing premonition about who Sasha reminded her of more with each passing day: Uulamets, the wizard who had stifled and tormented her, and who had healed Pyetr just to use him for his own purposes. And yet, as Sasha and Pyetr looked on, she herself was becoming more and more like someone from her past.

A series of unexpected and seemingly trivial occurrences takes a cataclysmic turn, separating the three of them in a forest gone suddenly wrong. Their usual protections failing, doubts proliferate and undermine their alliances, and a most bizarre and unnerving exchange of hearts threatens Sasha and Pyetr's friendship and the life of them all. One thing becomes resoundingly clear as they struggle to survive: once a wish has been made, it lives on, no matter if the one who made it is now dead and goneâ¦

;)

here is a very apt quote to end with, I think:

âGod,â Pyetr said. âI'm going to go talk to my horse. Books make you crazy, you know.â A motion at his head. âThinking all those crooked little marks mean real things, that's not sane, you know.â He waved the same hand toward the front door. âOut there is real. Don't lose track of that.â (p.42)

and I note a beautiful wish on page 141.