Norah Piehl

Twelve-year-old Sai is an assistant to master mapmaker Paiyoon. Sai loves her job and is good at it, but she has a secret mission: to save enough money to escape her home kingdom of Mangkon, where prospects for the future are inextricably bound up with family lineage. But on Sai’s 13th birthday, she will not receive a ceremonial lineal, the chain of golden links that symbolize her ancestry, because her family has no history—at least, not one to celebrate. Her father is a con man, and much of Sai’s skill for duplicating maps and charts stems from helping her father with forgeries.

As Sai’s birthday approaches, the queen issues a new directive: Now that Mangkon has finally achieved peace for the first time in 20 years, it’s time for the kingdom to rededicate itself to exploration. Master Paiyoon asks Sai to accompany him on a southbound ship, which will journey past the 50th parallel, also called the Dragon Line.

Sai soon discovers that everyone on board the ship has a secret, including Master Paiyoon, Captain Sangra and the charismatic Miss Rian, who earned her lineal through wartime heroism. As the voyage gets underway, Sai learns that even the queen’s mission is built on a secret. A rich prize awaits any crew who can locate the elusive Sunderlands, a remote and inaccessible continent where, according to legend, Mangkon’s long-departed dragons now dwell.

In 2021, author Christina Soontornvat received two Newbery Honors for in the same year, one for a novel, the other for a work of nonfiction—a first in the award’s centurylong history (E.L. Konigsburg previously received a Medal and an Honor in 1968, while Meindert de Jong received two Honors in 1954, but all four awards were for fiction). Soontornvat returns to high fantasy to create the Thai-inspired world of The Last Mapmaker, a standalone tale into which she seamlessly incorporates themes of colonialism and environmentalism.

Sai, whose first-person narration keeps the action moving faster than a ship under full sail, is a complicated and compassionately flawed character. It’s easy to sympathize with her dual struggles to identify whom she can trust and reconcile with her family’s past.

If The Last Mapmaker has a fault, it’s a too-quick resolution. Readers who grow invested in Soontornvat’s characters will wish they had just a little more time to spend with them. On the whole, however, the novel is a compelling quest narrative brimming with adventure, surprises and betrayal.

Eleven-year-old June Yang feels like bad luck follows her family everywhere. First her dad, a bicycle delivery driver, was killed in a tragic street accident. Then her mom, consumed by grief and depression, withdrew from the world, lost her job and June became the de facto caregiver for her 6-year-old sister, Maybelle. And now June’s family has been evicted from their Chinatown apartment and relocated to Huey House, a shelter in the South Bronx for families experiencing homelessness.

At first, everything at Huey House seems strange and disorienting, including the hourslong bus ride to school and the practical jokes played by longtime shelter residents Tyrell and Jeremiah. The final straw is the news that June can’t play her beloved viola at the shelter. But June quickly starts to see how the shelter’s residents help one another and how kindness can manifest in surprising ways. And she discovers that Tyrell, whose brash exterior belies a sensitive heart, a fear of abandonment and a love for classical music, might share some of the same dreams that she does.

Author Karina Yan Glaser is beloved for her critically acclaimed middle grade series about the Vanderbeekers, a large and loving family in Harlem. As she does in those books, Glaser infuses this standalone novel with sweetness and optimism (softhearted Maybelle and her overwhelming love for dogs and other animals is especially appealing) while acknowledging the complexities of her characters’ lives.

In an author’s note that opens the book, Glaser describes how the seeds of A Duet for Home were planted when she worked at a family housing shelter similar to Huey House 20 years ago. She incorporates a real-life policy initiative—a drive to quickly rehouse families experiencing homelessness in inadequate, unsafe facilities without sufficient support systems—into the novel as well. Within the story, Glaser brilliantly illustrates the drawbacks of this policy from a child’s point of view and shows the power of political action through her characters’ responses.

June and Tyrell are memorable and inspiring protagonists, and Glaser surrounds them with a cast of well-developed secondary characters. In addition to Maybelle and Jeremiah, there are also supportive grown-ups such as Ms. Gonzalez (aka Ms. G), the bighearted social worker who knows every resident’s favorite food so she can surprise them with their favorite dishes, and Domenika, the lovably prickly viola teacher next door.

As its title suggests, A Duet for Home is also suffused with music. Glaser even helpfully provides a list of all the compositions referenced throughout at the end of the novel. A Duet for Home portrays how an appreciation for music and a desire to make the world more beautiful can give all young people—and perhaps especially the most vulnerable—a way to believe in themselves.