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When Sigourney Rose grows up, she wants to be Queen—not because it is her life’s dream, but because she feels she must take over the islands of Hans Lollik in order to avenge her family’s brutal murders. Born into a society where the indigenous islanders are repressed and suppressed by their colonizers, the Fjerns, Sigourney walks a strange line between the two groups being pitted against each other. She is a kongelig, a member of island royalty, but she is the only one descended from the indigenous islanders. When the childless king, Konge Valdemar, announces that he is seeking a successor to the throne, and Sigourney receives an unexpected invitation to spend the storm season on the royal island of Hans Lollik Helle, she believes it is her fate to participate in the kongelig meetings and convince Konge Valdemar that she is worthy of the throne.

But Sigourney has several strikes against her, the most blatant being the color of her skin and her birth parents. She’s been using an alias, Elskerinde Lunde, her entire adult life to hide the fact that she is the sole survivor of the bloodbath that was her parents’ last night on Hans Lollik—a political murder and hate crime that the other kongelig plotted. She also possesses kraft, psychic powers that the kongelig believe should be only in the hands of the elite themselves, or, in rare cases, sacred slaves they have absolute control over. Any other islander found with kraft is decreed to be killed. The kongelig, including Sigourney due to her role as Elskerinde, take on this duty willingly. Sigourney desires the crown more than anything, but even she isn’t sure who or what she is doing it for—her slaves resent her, the kongelig are disgusted by her and she doesn’t quite belong anywhere or with anyone. When it becomes clear that something is very off about the puppet-like Konge Valdemar, Sigourney must face the truth that everything about her existence has been a lie, and come to terms with what the right and just course of action will be going forward.

Sigourney constantly questions where her loyalties lie, all the while trying to manage her kraft, which allows her to manipulate others’ emotions but often results in transfer of those emotions to her own mind. Callender’s other characters are equally multilayered and full of complexity: A strange newcomer to the Jannik villa during storm season, Løren, possesses both kraft and family secrets that deeply unsettle Sigourney, as well as the other kongelig. The storm season is known to be a period of untimely death, and when the kongelig in line for the throne begin to drop like flies in grisly killings, Sigourney must decide to stay and choose to save the islanders and kongelig from the abnormally evil power that has risen this season, or flee Hans Lollik with her life before it’s too late.

In Queen of the Conquered, Callender deftly handles the subjects of rank and racism, cruelty and privilege, while also providing an exciting whodunit in the fashion of Agatha Christie’s classic And Then There Were None or the more recent Gideon the Ninth by Tamsyn Muir. Readers will experience the same surprising waves of emotions that Sigourney is forced to endure from her foes, victims and potential allies as she navigates the islands that now seem so wrong to her, whose seeming paradise is actually a thinly veiled hell. Callender weaves an unforgettable fantasy plot that reads as fluidly as historical fiction, replete with a vivid, unique setting reminiscent of the Caribbean. Despite the genocide, racism and misogyny that Sigourney has witnessed and ultimately participated in, she faces the conquerors of her people with fortitude and pride in the face of indubitable hatred, and more determination than ever to make them pay for what they did.

 

ALSO IN BOOKPAGE: Read our Q&A with Kacen Callender about Queen of the Conquered.

When Sigourney Rose grows up, she wants to be Queen—not because it is her life’s dream, but because she feels she must take over the islands of Hans Lollik in order to avenge her family’s brutal murders.

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Family life can be tough. Sibling rivalries, parental scrutiny and personal boundaries can sometimes make it hard to remember that you love one another. It’s even more difficult when your mother is an intergalactic smuggler with a frigid demeanor, your brother is enlisted in a far-away war, your younger siblings love nothing more than a good gunfight, and you’re an alcoholic. Yep, Kristyn Merbeth puts a lot of pressure on Scorpia Kaiser and her family. But with a few huge risks, some real bravery and quite a bit of cursing, things might turn out okay for the crew of the Fortuna.

Long after humans left Earth, they settled across a small group of hospitable planets in a far-off sector of space. Each one of these planets developed differently and, despite an alliance, isolated themselves from one another. The only way to gain access to each planet is to be born there. Momma Kaiser, an enterprising individual, adopted a child from each planet so that she could smuggle freely across the galaxy. It’s about as rag-tag a group as you can imagine, but they work together to make a life running contraband. When the family finds itself in the middle of an intergalactic massacre because of cargo they delivered, the two eldest Kaisers, Scorpia and Corvus, must put aside years of differences to figure out how to keep the family safe from a universe certain to track them down.

Fortuna spends time in the separate POVs of Scorpia and Corvus, a storytelling choice that superbly elevates the narrative. Brother and sister have completely different voices, so it’s easy to appreciate how different they are. Scorpia’s casual, devil-may-care style contrasts beautifully with Corvus’ rigidity, economy and self-loathing. The reader finds real sympathy for each of them, which blurs the line between who is right and who is wrong. Merbeth shows herself to be adept with dialogue and character building with all of the Kaisers, and some of the funniest and most powerful moments happen when the family is trading jabs or bickering. It gives the whole story a warm, lived-in feeling. But this book is also full of action, and the pace shifts very naturally between intimate conversations and breakneck space adventure.

Though I found myself loving the different origin accounts of Scorpia and Corvus, I wanted them to collide sooner in the narrative. When their paths do converge, the main conflict really starts cranking. Perhaps that’s the best compliment that could be paid here: No matter what’s happening outside the hull of Fortuna, family is always strongest when everyone is together.

Family life can be tough. It’s even more difficult when your mother is an intergalactic smuggler with a frigid demeanor.

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In the first book of a new series from Kiersten White (And I Darken), Guinevere arrives at Camelot to wed King Arthur, just as she does in the Arthurian stories of old. But this Guinevere is not a princess. She is an imposter, sent by a banished Merlin to protect Arthur from magical threats. Although she can recall Merlin training her in simple magic, Guinevere cannot remember any further back, and her true name is lost to her. Nevertheless, she busies herself warding the castle from attacks, which could come from those who resent Arthur’s ban on magic or from those who still follow the Dark Queen, who was defeated by Arthur’s sword, Excalibur, years ago.

As she learns more about Camelot and forges true friendships with some of its residents, Guinevere begins to feel a sense of community, despite her troubling memory lapses and her uncovering of disturbing new information about Merlin. A hunch about a mysterious masked warrior, a strange connection with Arthur’s nephew Mordred and a gradual exploration of the extent of her powers all lead Guinevere down the path to forming an identity of her own choosing, untethered from whatever her past life may have held.

The Guinevere Deception weaves together all the familiar characters of legend and lore—Arthur and his Knights, Merlin, Guinevere, Mordred and more—but adds a dash of unexpected revision that keeps the tale fresh. Its magic and intrigue are perfect for readers who revel in this realm of myth and fantasy. White seamlessly introduces nuanced and compelling female characters into the world of Camelot, while also maintaining the wondrous spirit of the original Arthurian legends, making The Guinevere Deception a truly enchanting read.

In the first book of a new series from Kiersten White (And I Darken), Guinevere arrives at Camelot to wed King Arthur, just as she does in the Arthurian stories of old. But this Guinevere is not a princess. She is an imposter, sent by a banished Merlin to protect Arthur from magical threats. Although […]
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As graduate student Zachary Ezra Rawlins contemplates which book to choose in his university library, he muses that reading a novel “is like playing a game where all the choices have been made for you ahead of time by someone who is much better at that particular game.” That’s certainly the case when the author in question is Erin Morgenstern, who mesmerized readers with her breakout debut, The Night Circus, and now returns with her highly anticipated second novel, The Starless Sea, a grand fantasy about books, the power of literature and storytelling.

The mysterious book Zachary ends up choosing features him as a character and leads him on an epic quest, first to the Algonquin Hotel Annual Literary Masquerade in New York City and ultimately through a secret doorway to a subterranean realm where he finds pirates, an Owl King, fairy tales, a story sculptor and “an underground trove of books and stories beneath their feet.” Think Harry Potter for book lovers and grown-ups. (Zachary’s favorite drink is a sidecar, and he falls in love during his adventures.) There are literary references galore, as well as an undertone of video games. “Is that Zelda for Princess or Fitzgerald?” Zachary asks at one point. The response he receives: “Little bit of both.” 

Paralleling Susan Orlean’s The Library Book, a nonfiction ode to books, libraries and librarians, The Starless Sea is a fictional journey dedicated to stories and storytelling. Both are lively, inventive titles chock-full of book-centric quotes.

This hefty novel requires imaginary leaps and careful attention to stories and characters that wind their way in many different directions, but Morgenstern—now proving not once, but twice, what an adept literary juggler she is—manages to weave a multitude of strands together into one mighty, magical tale.

 

ALSO IN BOOKPAGE: Read our interview with Erin Morgenstern for The Starless Sea.

Erin Morgenstern—proving once again what an adept literary juggler she is—weaves a multitude of stories together into one mighty, magical tale.
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In S. C. Emmett’s entry to a new fantasy epic, The Throne of the Five Winds, a lady-in-waiting to the princess of a vanquished land plays a dangerous game of political intrigue.

When the Empire of Zhaon conquers Khir, Princess Mahara is betrothed to the crown prince of Zhaon. Yala, a lady-in-waiting must leave her home alongside Mahara and journey to the center of the rival country, where all six of the aging ruler’s sons are ruthlessly plotting to claim the throne. Emmett’s book requires incredible attention to every word on the page as both Yala and the reader are thrust into a foreign political battle of assassins, careful messages and strategically offered cups of tea. Conversations between characters stretch across pages; each interaction is spiked with schmoozing, scheming and scowling. Emmett even lingers over his characters’ accents—rather than forgetting them or breezing over them, Emmett describes their differences in syllabic detail. In The Throne of the Five Winds, characters’ reactions and facial tells are artfully crafted, conveying each aspect of social interaction with incredible detail and precision.

The political plot moves slowly, but peeling each layer of conversational detail will keep readers consistently interested. The sheer number of players on the board (two queens, six princes, a Khir princess, our main character Yala, a warlord-king, his primary attendant and a seemingly infinite number of political secondaries) results in a near-endless web of relationships. Each primary character has two or three relevant titles and politically important traits that influence the style of their interactions. (This meant I had a ridiculous amount of sticky notes exploding from my book, like a colorful papier-mâché hedgehog). The grand prize of becoming Emperor is a relatively simple goal, which at least made sorting through motivations a bit easier.

There is a serious learning curve through the first 100 pages (you really should see how many sticky notes I used), but the Zhaon empire and the kingdom of Khir are well worth exploring, despite the time investment required. The world is constructed well: Color is added to the world for context, never dumped on readers like an unfriendly reminder of history class from high school. Inserting colloquial names for plants, creatures and roles is a favorite trope of mine, and Emmett employs it liberally, if a mite too much (for example, a “dragonwing” is just a big dragonfly). The world feels real and expansive, complete with implied trade relations, a rich diversity of culture and five languages.

The Throne of the Five Winds will appeal to patient readers; the quick-witted banter of modern superhero movies is nowhere to be found within its pages. Instead of fencing with quick verbal stabs and sardonic ripostes, Yala and crew are brutally sharp social gunfighters, holding their draws, each of their statements spoken with lethal concision. Those without such patience are almost always vulnerable and open to attack from more skilled fighters. Moving through Emmett’s socio-political fantasy drama is quite an undertaking, but definitely one worth attempting.

In S. C. Emmett’s entry to a new fantasy epic, The Throne of the Five Winds, a lady-in-waiting to the princess of a vanquished land plays a dangerous game of political intrigue. When the Empire of Zhaon conquers Khir, Princess Mahara is betrothed to the crown prince of Zhaon. Yala, a lady-in-waiting must leave her home alongside Mahara and […]
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Jessie Mihalik returns to her science fiction romance series with Aurora Blazing, as a noblewoman with secrets plays cat-and-mouse with her family’s security advisor.

Bianca von Hasenberg is a woman with a lot to hide. Widowed under mysterious circumstances, Bianca fully leans into “mourning” her late husband, which grants her freedom from the strict Consortium courtly etiquette. Though she plays up the air-headed, materialistic royal role, Bianca has been cultivating a network of spies and complex digital connections for collecting intel. But her biggest secret is that she was her scientist husband’s guinea pig, and now has a modified mind and body that intercept communication signals from nearly everyone.

Security Director Ian Bishop is a no-nonsense man who is loyal to von Hasenberg family, though Bianca’s habit of sticking her nose into things where it doesn’t belong is often his biggest source of frustration. When Ferdinand, Bianca’s older brother, is kidnapped and Bianca is framed as a traitor, Ian is tasked with keeping her locked away. When she escapes, Ian chases Bianca across the galaxy as she searches for answers and Ian does his best to keep her out of harm’s way.

Sci-fi romance is a relatively small subgenre and Mihalik’s imaginative series about the bonds of family amid scheming power plays feels like a refreshing sip of water after a long drought. The romance is tense, as Bianca and Ian both prefer to ignore whatever feelings they share. And with an intergalactic conspiracy as a backdrop, there is no shortage of action to rival the sizzling banter between the main couple.

Bianca is an impressively strong heroine, given what she’s overcome both in childhood and marriage. The survivor she’s built herself to be is, well, totally badass. She doesn’t need a blaster or superb fighting skills to get out of a tough situation. Instead, Bianca relies on her many connections and useful knowledge to gain the upper hand. And for romance readers who prefer the strong, silent type, Ian Bishop ticks all of the boxes. His sense of honor and duty is everything to him, but when pesky things like love get in the way, Ian must finally address how far he’ll go for his employer and his mission. Aurora Blazing is a standout, memorable book that oozes crossover appeal.

Prefer action and adventure? One spaceship heist coming up! Find court intrigue and politics to be irresistible? Two ruling houses are at war, with a third desperately trying to remain neutral. Sucker for a happy ending? Well, it’s a romance, so there’s definitely that. Mihalik fills the void for every Star Wars fan who wished the franchise had more kissing.

A noblewoman with secrets plays cat-and-mouse with her family’s security advisor in the latest from Jessie Mihalik.
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As a preteen, I wanted to love movies like Pirates of the Caribbean. I loved tall tales of swashbuckling pirates and daring adventures on the high seas, but the movies didn’t live up to what I thought a sea adventure should or could be. Maybe it was the language, or maybe it was how painfully un-magical the movies were. Whatever the case, they just never clicked. But The Bone Ships, the first book in R.J. Barker’s Tide Child trilogy, is everything I wished those movies of the sea had been and much, much more. Simultaneously gritty and full of a sense of wonder, The Bone Ships is the perfect adventure for anyone who’s ever had dreams of the sea—or of dragons.

The endless war between the Hundred Isles and the Gaunt Islands was built on the bones of dragons. When those dragons disappeared, the island nations recycled what they could, each generation using the scavenged parts of the dragon-bone ships of the warriors who came before. The war went on, each generation’s ships smaller than the last. As their ships weakened and rotted, the war diminished to raids meant to steal ships and children. But the uneasy equilibrium will soon end: The first dragon in hundreds of years has been sighted. Lucky Meas and her ragtag crew of the condemned are determined to find it first and change the course of the war, but they aren’t the only ones desperate to find and claim the creature as their own.

One of the most interesting things about The Bone Ships is our perspective into its world. Joron Twiner, our point of view character, is no hero. He is cowardly and prideful. He’s incompetent and haunted by his past. It is clear even from the very first pages of The Bone Ships that if we are to have a traditional hero, it will be the woman who has taken Joron’s ship, Gilbryn “Lucky” Meas. Meas’ knack for driving her crew to success against all odds might feel cheap if she were our window into this world, as her ability to lead others is almost otherworldly. But because we see Meas through Joron’s eyes, we are only seeing Meas as her crew sees her: a great captain who causes remarkable changes in others, including Joron himself.

The world we see through Joron’s eyes is alien, from the little details (ships are referred to as “he” rather than “she”) to the big ones (normalized infant blood sacrifice). But as strange as these details sometimes are, there’s something about Barker’s style that makes them seem utterly natural. In many ways The Bone Ships reads not as a fantasy, but almost like a recent historical fiction, lending it an air of verisimilitude that many fantasy books lack. The narrator assumes that readers know the Hundred Isles as well as its characters do. That assumption can sometimes be confusing—the traditions, superstitions and even the language of the denizens of the Tide Child are as numerous as they are complicated—but this approach is also necessary. While a Tolkienesque explanation of the history of everything might have simplified the book, it would have been for the worse rather than for the better.

Appealing to the adventurer in all of us, The Bone Ships is an excellent book for any reader in search of a fantastical journey.

 

ALSO IN BOOKPAGE: Read our Q&A with R.J. Barker about The Bone Ships.

Simultaneously gritty and full of a sense of wonder, The Bone Ships is the perfect adventure for anyone who’s ever had dreams of the sea—or of dragons.

What Captain Eva Inocente lacks in restraint, trepidation and doubt, she certainly makes up for in determination and heart—not literally, as the (space) sailor-mouthed, confident explorer sports a mechanical heart implant, a constant reminder of missions gone horribly awry. The protagonist of Chilling Effect, Valerie Valdes’ new space opera, is as resourceful as she is impulsive, and her loyalty knows no bounds once it sets anchor. Eva is comprised of many vivid layers, as colorful as her abounding cache of Spanish curses. And the vulnerable and emotional facets of her person prove that a futuristic mechanical heart does not prohibit one from developing or expressing strong emotions.

The settings of Chilling Effect are vast and change often, and the cast of characters is constantly expanding, from our many introductions to various alien life forms to fluctuations in Eva’s crew, including her incessantly shifting lists of friends and foes. But Eva soon learns that sometimes your chosen family is worth just as many—or more—sacrifices as your biological one. Eva’s fiery spark of devotion and spirit will keep readers captivated until the very last page of this winding, backtracking and space-jumping ride. Her unmitigated connection to her Cuban roots also remains a steadfast joy, from both her many untranslated Spanish lines to her undying love for guava, arroz con mango and piña coladas.

Eva has some proverbial skeletons in her closet (or corpses in cryogenic tanks, whichever you prefer) but she tries to focus on moving forward and surviving. The disastrous missions in her past? She’s now the reliable captain of La Sirena Negra, guiding her motley but lovable crew through the galaxy. Eva’s clean now, and has given up the blackmailing, pirating and plotting of her dark past. Family problems? All good on that front. By living her life on the space frontier, she’s fled her manipulative father, planet-bound mother and beloved but very different sister, Mari. Love? She’s living the single life, content for now, but she just can’t quite put her finger on a puzzle piece missing from her life.

Her newfound stability is turned on its head when a slew of unfortunate events occur all at once, shattering the peace she and her crew have established. A drunken rejection at a bar results in the bloodthirsty revenge of a fishy alien emperor whose name roughly translates to the Glorious Apotheosis, whose goal is to imprison Eva in his harem, even if he has to travel to the ends of the galaxy to find her. This sets into motion a string of incidents that are all too overwhelming and complicated for anyone but Eva to handle: the kidnapping of her beloved Mari; unwelcome interference from her estranged father, Pete; unveiled plans of the nefarious organization, The Fridge, which wants her hide if it can’t have her soul; and a host of dangerous and difficult missions she’s been blackmailed into to try and recover her loved ones. Add to this blend some endearing but convoluted feelings for her subordinate engineer, Vakar, an alien who exudes emotions through smell, and some equally complicated feelings for where her loyalties lie, and Eva has really found herself in quite the espectáculo de mierda.

Eva’s magnificently diverse crew comes along for the ride, including the alluring Vakar; Rebecca Jones aka Pink (a reference to her impressive dreadlocks, which complement her equally impressive cybernetic eye), a talented and wise-beyond-her-years, no-nonsense medic; Min, the sensitive pilot whose very mind is connected to the ship’s core; Leroy, a red-headed conglomeration of parts and holographic tattoos who is the strongest in body but dearly misses his moms; and a batch of psychic kittens who mostly serve as background props and humorous relief, but who nonetheless have a role to play in Eva’s chosen family.

Chilling Effect is a wild, rocky ride that reminds readers that all creatures, Earth-bound, planet-bound or not, crave the same essentials—connection, success and safety. Eva meets dinosaur-like todyks who fight over affairs and lost love, but also has to deal with her scummy ex-partner in love and crime. What she does know is that she is not the captain of her ship and the master of her fate, but she is now responsible for the lives of her families, both given and found.

Captain Eva Inocente is the reliable captain of La Sirena Negra, guiding her motley but lovable crew through the galaxy.
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Generations ago, a plague of Ash Blood and strange beasts destroyed the land of Ystara, which its guardian archangel, Pallenial, appeared to have abandoned. The neighboring land of Sarance, protected by its own angelic hosts, was unaffected by the plague. A powerful young woman, Liliath, who may have caused the tragedy, was believed to have perished while fleeing Ystara. 

More than a hundred years later, Liliath reawakens in Sarance, eager to complete her devious and destructive plan to summon Pallenial. Her efforts bring her into contact with four young people: Agnez, a valiant, newly recruited Musketeer; Henri, the fortune-seeking youngest son of a poor family; Simeon, a dedicated doctoral student; and Dorotea, a gifted icon-maker with rare skills of angelic magic. Liliath’s plan brings these four strangers together, but although she watches them closely, she underestimates their resourcefulness and determination to uncover the truth about their bond, which could foil Liliath’s plan for the second time. 

Garth Nix found inspiration for this swashbuckling standalone fantasy novel in Alexandre Dumas’ The Three Musketeers. Nix maintains the epic scope and derring-do of a 19th-century adventure novel, and like Dumas, his world is governed by powerful monarchs and church officials. However, Nix updates Dumas’ setting for 21st-century readers with clear (and deliberate) descriptions of an egalitarian world populated by men and women who command equal status and respect in every aspect of society, from politics to academia. He also adds a complex and fascinating system of angelic magic. 

With four dashing heroes, an unrepentantly evil villain, a sprawling cast of characters whose diversity is foregrounded and, refreshingly, no hints of romance between the protagonists, Angel Mage is a highly entertaining tale of valor and intrigue. 

Generations ago, a plague of Ash Blood and strange beasts destroyed the land of Ystara, which its guardian archangel, Pallenial, appeared to have abandoned. The neighboring land of Sarance, protected by its own angelic hosts, was unaffected by the plague. A powerful young woman, Liliath, who may have caused the tragedy, was believed to have […]

In Thirteen Doorways, Wolves Behind Them All, Printz Medal-winner Laura Ruby weaves a heart-wrenching story about loss and familial bonds as two girls, an orphan and a ghost, struggle to make their way during the early 1940s.

Pearl, who narrates, died in 1918 and haunts the Chicago orphanage where Frankie is abandoned by her father, a poor shoemaker. Pearl watches as Frankie endures both harsh treatment by the nuns and the heartbreak of her father’s remarriage and subsequent move to Colorado without her. Frankie must also weather the loss of her first love, who enlists in the Army at the height of war. 

Over time, Pearl meets other spirits and begins to unburden herself of the secrets that keep her locked in the mortal realm. She discovers that her afterlife doesn’t have to be spent wandering Chicago’s streets, trapped in an endless loop.

Thirteen Doorways, Wolves Behind Them All calls to mind A Tree Grows in Brooklyn, another story that explores the struggles, heartache and joy of those who grew up without privilege in the early 20th century. Pearl is a tragic heroine, a product of the social expectations placed on a beautiful young woman in the late 1910s, and Frankie comes of age amid the uncertainty and instability of World War II—yet both refuse to succumb to hopelessness. A beautiful and lyrical read that pushes against the boundaries of what we often think a young adult novel can contain, Thirteen Doorways, Wolves Behind Them All is sure to garner Ruby even more acclaim.

In Thirteen Doorways, Wolves Behind Them All, Printz Medal-winner Laura Ruby weaves a heart-wrenching story about loss and familial bonds as two girls, an orphan and a ghost, struggle to make their way during the early 1940s. Pearl, who narrates, died in 1918 and haunts the Chicago orphanage where Frankie is abandoned by her father, […]
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Hiram was born into “tasking”—what Ta-Nehisi Coates calls slavery in this beautiful, wrenching novel—but he has always stood slightly apart from the other people who are “Tasked” on the Virginian estate called Lockless. 

The son of an enslaved woman named Rose, Hiram learned early in life that his father was the Lockless master, Howell Walker. Although Hiram worked in the apple orchards and the main house, he had something the other Tasked would never dream of: lessons from the Walker family tutor. But the lessons were no gift. Howell Walker’s plan was to prepare Hiram to spend his life caring for his older half-brother, Maynard, the charmless, dull heir to Lockless. A naturally smart child, Hiram subdued his thirst for knowledge. “I knew what happened to coloreds who were too curious about the world beyond Virginia,” he says.

Driving Maynard home one night from the horse races, Hiram is thinking of nothing but his “desire for an escape from Maynard and the doom of his mastery. And then it came.” Hiram doesn’t know why a strange mist comes up off the river or why the bridge falls away, revealing his long-gone mother dancing. 

He later learns this is Conduction, the rare ability to transport oneself on the power of memories. It’s a prized skill that recruiters on the Underground Railroad hope Hiram will put to use for their cause. They move him to Philadelphia, where he is shocked to see for the first time people of all colors mingling freely. He works to harness his gift of Conduction, while still feeling the pull of his people who have been sold and scattered throughout the South.

The Water Dancer confronts our bitter history and its violence and ugliness, which still resonate generations later. Coates’ fierce, thought-provoking essays on race composed We Were Eight Years in Power and the National Book Award winner Between the World and Me. Here he weaves a clear-eyed story that has elements of magic but is grounded in a profoundly simple truth: A person’s humanity is tied to their freedom.

“Breathing,” Hiram says. “I just dream of breathing.”

Ta-Nehisi Coates’ debut novel is grounded in a profoundly simple truth: A person’s humanity is tied to their freedom.
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Ylfing has buried his name and become a Chant. Or at least, he’s gone through the motions. But although he’s mastered the art of telling stories, he hates it, and has spent the years since his master-Chant left him trying to become something else. When he accidentally becomes embroiled in a questionable business venture involving pungent glow-in-the-dark flowers, he starts telling stories again. Just not the good kind. Not the ones he cares about, pours his heart into and tells to the wind. But all the same, these stories carry enough power to make a fortune or—as the story grows too fast to control and mania surrounding the flowers builds—break a city. As this new enterprise unfolds, Chant-who-was-Ylfing meets another master-Chant whose views on the profession are quite different from those he was taught, and starts to realize that he does not need to be his master to be a Chant. And maybe, just maybe, he can save the city he has unwittingly set on the path to destruction.

The most striking feature of Alexandra Rowland’s latest novel, A Choir of Lies, are its snarky footnotes. The entire book is written as a manuscript with extensive editorial commentary, ranging from excising entire chapters and railing at the ethical implications of the project in general to questioning specific vocabulary choices. There is even an extensive commentary on the choice of a language with inadequate pronouns for the gender-fluid society depicted in the book. These footnotes are also the clearest implementation of Rowland’s notable skill at tailoring their prose to character. Unlike the first book in this series, A Conspiracy of Truths, Choir of Lies is narrated by just one protagonist, resulting in a more consistent style across most of the chapters. However, the portions written by the editor (who shall remain nameless here) are markedly different, and even change tone over the course of the novel, showing the arc of a character as they progress through the book with the reader. It’s a fascinating meta-literary experience, made all the more compelling by the moments when the nameless editor appears in the narrative itself.

Setting aside Rowland’s technical skill, their plot and characters are compelling as ever. They continue to offer tantalizing slices of a comprehensive, well-designed world. Whereas A Conspiracy of Truths was set in a Kafkaesque morass of graft and bureaucracy, A Choir of Lies takes place in a fantastical Amsterdam analog, complete with massive dikes, mercantile rivalries and a coterie of visiting Italians—pardon, Pezians—who may or may not have latent magical powers. The crisis facing this fictional trading city is, of course, financial, and it is instigated by a trading war for the least significant of crops: a flower that stinks to high heaven and is only pretty at night. And through it all, Chant-who-was-Ylfing remains equally endearing and infuriating, a skaldic puppy in provocative pants whose crisis of faith nearly destroys a nation.

A Choir of Lies should be on the reading list of any fan of darkly comic fantasy. Preferably just below its predecessor. Stories should be told in order, after all.

Ylfing has buried his name and become a Chant. Or at least, he’s gone through the motions. But although he’s mastered the art of telling stories, he hates it, and has spent the years since his master-Chant left him trying to be something else.

Gideon Nav is not a Necromancer. She is not even one of their bodyguards, a Cavalier. So when her oathsworn enemy since childhood, the Reverend Daughter and Necromancer Harrowhark Nonagesimus, requires a skilled Cavalier to accompany her on her ambitious educational trials, brash swordswoman Gideon volunteers partially out of self-preservation, partially because of blackmail and mostly because she needs a free ride off of the planet of the damned she was raised on.

Gideon and Harrow hail from the Ninth House, a dark realm fraught with bloodthirsty skeletons, fearsome nuns and crypts that house the living, dead and reanimated alike, where the haunted and actively haunting lay trapped, forgotten and rotting in the jet-black depths ruled by the iron fist of Harrow and her frightful ossified forces. Tamsyn Muir’s meticulous world building has created a realm where penitence and piety are prioritized above all else, traditions that acting leader Harrow has kept instituted to keep rabble-rousers like Gideon at bay. But for the fearless and free-spirited Gideon, who has yet to leave the Ninth House, remaining on the planet means the slow torture and inevitable death of her hopes and dreams, or she can risk a swift execution during her next escape attempt.

On her most recent escape effort, Gideon’s plans are foiled by Harrowhark as usual, but this time she is offered an intriguing proposition—to escort Harrow on her journey to the First House to study towards Lyctorhood, a hallowed educational position for reputed necromancers of the Nine Houses. If Gideon accepts, she can finally leave the Ninth and its grimy ghouls behind, but she will be tied at the hip to her mortal enemy, posing as a professional cavalier in front of the rest of the Houses. If she declines, she will surely rot in the prisonlike Ninth until her death and beyond.

Gideon thrives off-planet despite personal and professional challenges, practicing her swordswoman and adventuring skills and becoming accepted by the group of competitors as the solitary Harrow explores their lodgings, the mysterious and foreboding Canaan House. The girls are welcomed by Teacher, a priest of the First who is a little too lively and thrilled for the taste of the Ninth, as well as a fascinating and memorable cast of their competitors, including Dulcinea Septimus of the Seventh, whose alluring charm captivates Gideon immediately; the suspicious trio of the Third, comprised of twin sun-and-moon necromancers and a vain cavalier; and the repulsive, parasitic-like duo of the Eighth, a nephew-uncle combination who condemn followers of the Ninth as “death cult members.” So when the murders begin, it is only natural that the house most comfortable and familiar with Death itself should solve the mysteries that abound.

Gideon the Ninth is worth every second of every spine-chilling page as the book moves seamlessly from science fiction to mystery-thriller and back again. The journey to Lyctorhood is soon revealed to be more nefarious and agonizing than a simple competition between Houses. The necromancer-cavalier teams realize they are stranded on the First, and things devolve into a battle royale reminiscent of Agatha Christie’s And Then There Were None where only the strongest, bravest and smartest will endure.

Gideon herself is a blazing beacon in this very dark world, where people are shackled their entire lives by tradition and fear—her extroverted nature and love for items like swords, girly magazines and an archaic pair of an item once called “sunglasses” reveal her passion for living in the moment and her open-mindedness to explore outside of the parameters forced upon her by society. Compelled to accompany Harrowhark on several trials and tribulations, Gideon soon realizes that they might have more in common than she assumed, and that if they want to stay alive, they will have to move forward from the past and work together, and that maybe, just maybe, she could have had a friend—or more—all along during their dark days in the Ninth.

Muir’s attention to numerology, wordplay and symbology here is beyond impressive. Each of the Nine Houses is painstakingly constructed, from their unique Necromancer personalities to the abilities of their Cavaliers and priests. The story takes place mostly in the First House, yet readers will feel familiar enough with the other realms that they can imagine the entire cosmos that Muir has created at her fingertips. Gideon is no stranger to Death, but when faced with the constructs of fear, loss and grief, she soon learns what is truly important to her in life, and that while new endeavors mean an inevitable end, endings can also mean a new beginning.

 

ALSO IN BOOKPAGE: Read our Q&A with Tamsyn Muir about Gideon the Ninth.

Gideon Nav is not a Necromancer. She is not even one of their bodyguards, a Cavalier. So when her oathsworn enemy since childhood, the Reverend Daughter and Necromancer Harrowhark Nonagesimus, requires a skilled Cavalier to accompany her on her ambitious educational trials, brash swordswoman Gideon volunteers partially out of self-preservation, partially because of blackmail and mostly because she needs a free ride off of the planet of the damned she was raised on.

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