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The Harp of Kings, the first book in a new historical fantasy series by Juliet Marillier, follows a brother and sister amidst magic, music and their own grand ambitions.

Sibling bards Liobhan and Brocc are fighting to earn a place amongst a famous band of warriors and spies on Swan Island. When the warrior band learns that the Harp of Kings, an instrument of lore that has been used in the coronation of royalty, has gone missing, Liobhan and Brocc’s musical skills make them the ideal candidates for retrieving the harp. Though they’re still trainees, they embark on a mission to locate the instrument while disguised as traveling minstrels.

With every great fantasy quest comes a whole host of complications. Liobhan’s fellow trainee and rival, Dau, is desperate to beat her for the top spot in their class. The threat of political upheaval hangs over the mission should it fail. And, of course, schemes and deadly machinations are ever present.

Though Liobhan is a fearsome and admirable protagonist, Marillier rounds out her world by adding a slew of interesting secondary characters. Brocc is the protective and caring brother. Dau is the ambitious frenemy. There are mysterious witches and druids who know way more than they let on. Though the setting is fantastical, the characters are complex and reminiscent of all the wonderful and weird personalities we’d encounter in ordinary life.

To say both Marillier’s writing and Liobhan’s journey to becoming a warrior are magical feels too cliché—but it really is the perfect adjective. Liobhan’s dedication to achieve her dreams, to preserve the bond she has with her brother and to uphold what is right in the face of many conflicting forces is a joy to behold.

The Harp of Kings is set in the same world, though years ahead, of Marillier’s equally wonderful Blackthorn and Grimm series. While readers familiar with those books will enjoy discovering lovely Easter eggs, new readers should have no issues acclimating themselves to the environment. Quite frankly, I’m envious of readers who get to experience Marillier for the first time. If you’re unsure about where to begin with her body of work, The Harp of Kings is a fantastic place to start. It has all the hallmarks of a lush and epic high fantasy tale, as well as a dynamic, ambitious heroine.

Marillier’s enchanting characters, immersive details and truly stunning prose have all helped crown her an undisputed queen of the fantasy genre. The Harp of Kings is no different; readers new and returning will be undoubtedly captivated by Marillier’s newest tale.

The Harp of Kings, the first book in a new historical fantasy series by Juliet Marillier, follows a brother and sister amidst magic, music and their own grand ambitions.

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A good space opera can be many things. It can be funny or deeply philosophical. It can be touching, and it can be gory. John Birmingham’s latest novel, The Cruel Stars, balances all of those things, making readers laugh out loud even as it pulls them through an intergalactic battle for the soul of humanity.

Hundreds of years ago, humanity faced a terror like no other: the Sturm, a cultlike subculture bent on exterminating any human with genetic or cybernetic modifications. After a bloody and hard-fought civil war, the Sturm were forced to retreat. Because they weren’t heard from for hundreds of years, many thought the Sturm had to be extinct. That is, until they suddenly executed a system-wide, coordinated attack designed to cripple both human defenses and the enhancements of any “impure” humans. Led by a group of space pirates, a young military officer, a princess, a convicted criminal and a war hero, those who survived the initial onslaught must make a stand. Their mission? Drive the Sturm back before they can carry out their goal of system-wide purification.

The Cruel Stars showcases Birmingham’s remarkable mastery of scope. In just a few short chapters, he manages to paint (and then proceeds to destroy) a complex, flawed and deeply interesting version of human civilization. The grandness of this vision could be overwhelming. How, after all, can five point-of-view characters hope to encompass the entirety of a civilization or of a war? The simple answer is that they can’t, so Birmingham doesn’t try. Instead, he focuses his attention on a single planet and the Habitation satellites surrounding it. Instead of a grand, sterile view of the war, he creates a claustrophobic nightmare—well, as close as you can get to a nightmare and still have jokes. Despite the admittedly disturbing drive behind the Sturm’s crusade, The Cruel Stars manages to be deeply funny. In fact, it’s probably because of the disturbing potential consequences of the Sturm’s religious zeal that the humor works. Jokes about overly literal rhino men and space Nazis act as comic relief, breaking up the tension and letting Birmingham’s characters and universe shine.

If you aren’t a fan of gore (or if you just don’t like your humor and your gore to mix), then The Cruel Stars might not be the right book for you. But for readers who loved the frenetic pacing of the first few episodes of “Battlestar Galactica” or the gritty realism of A Song of Ice and Fire, The Cruel Stars needs to make its way to the top of summer reading lists.

A good space opera can be many things. It can be funny or deeply philosophical. It can be touching, and it can be gory. John Birmingham’s latest novel, The Cruel Stars, balances all of those things, making readers laugh out loud even as it pulls them through an intergalactic battle for the soul of humanity.

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A strong debut from Cadwell Turnbull, The Lesson does what all the best science fiction does: It uses the supernatural to reveal something true about our world. The book is set in the U.S. Virgin Islands five years after the Ynaa, an advanced alien race, arrived to study humans. The Ynaa live mostly peacefully with humans, at least for the time being. Most people are willing to put up with the occasional killing at the hands of the Ynaa in exchange for their science and medicine, but eventually enough is enough. Narrators Janina Edwards and Ron Butler do a fantastic job setting us in the islands, and their accents draw extra attention to the colonial elements of alien invasion that mirror our own history. It’s worth a listen for anyone with an interest in sci-fi.

A strong debut from Cadwell Turnbull, The Lesson does what all the best science fiction does: It uses the supernatural to reveal something true about our world. The book is set in the U.S. Virgin Islands five years after the Ynaa, an advanced alien race, arrived to study humans. The Ynaa live mostly peacefully with humans, at […]

Pet

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Akwaeke Emezi, the acclaimed nonbinary author of last year’s buzzy adult novel Freshwater, further asserts themself as a unique, bold new voice in fiction with the surreal Pet.

The people of the town of Lucille live a blessed life. The heroes known as angels chased away all the monsters, and kids like Jam and her best friend, Redemption, have grown up without the threats that kept their parents and grandparents in fear.

Jam’s mother, Bitter, tells her daughter that monsters and angels aren’t like the ones she might have seen in old books. “It’s all just people,” she says, “doing hard things or doing bad things.” But Jam starts to reconsider her mother’s words when a frightening creature in her mother’s latest painting comes to life. The creature asks Jam to call it Pet and says that it’s on a mission—to hunt and kill the monster that, Pet claims, is lurking unseen in Redemption’s otherwise loving and happiness-filled home.

Jam is skeptical, not to mention fearful. But as she begins to trust Pet, she starts to question much of what she’s been told, and soon she and Redemption must decide for themselves what brand of justice is best suited for the monster that might lurk in their midst. 

By conceptualizing sexual violence, physical abuse, drug use and other social ills as literal monsters, Emezi gives young readers much to think about, from questioning authority and received wisdom to redefining justice. Emezi’s characters are diverse in race, physical ability and especially gender. Jam is a transgender girl, and Redemption has three parents, one of whom is nonbinary.

Despite Jam’s growing realization that Lucille is far from the utopia she’s been told it is, readers might see in Jam’s surroundings a version of a world that they, like Jam, might choose to fight for.

Akwaeke Emezi, the acclaimed nonbinary author of last year’s buzzy adult novel Freshwater, further asserts themself as a unique, bold new voice in fiction with the surreal Pet. The people of the town of Lucille live a blessed life. The heroes known as angels chased away all the monsters, and kids like Jam and her […]
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Set in the early 1900s, The Ten Thousand Doors of January is the story of January Scaller, whose father travels around the world to find unique curiosities for his wealthy employer, Mr. Locke. January remains behind with Locke, who keeps her dressed in finery, storing her as carefully as the other specimens he possesses. 

On the day before she turns 17, January discovers a mysterious book that smells of sea and spices in one of the many rooms of Locke’s house. As she reads the book, she learns that certain locations in the world are doors to other worlds—and that her entire life is tied to those doors. With the help of a few friends, January decides to escape Locke and his strange society of archaeologists and try to find her father before she no longer can. 

Part-time historian Alix E. Harrow has written a stunning debut novel with inventive worlds, sumptuous language and impeccably crafted details. Several of Harrow’s characters challenge traditional stereotypes in interesting ways, and January in particular is a refreshingly fierce female protagonist. Harrow paces this action-packed novel beautifully, slowly revealing the truth as the reader races through the pages to discover the ultimate conclusion. 

Readers seeking a fresh fantasy with an enduring love story need look no further, and they’ll be left wistfully hoping to stumble upon doors of their own.

Set in the early 1900s, The Ten Thousand Doors of January is the story of January Scaller, whose father travels around the world to find unique curiosities for his wealthy employer, Mr. Locke. January remains behind with Locke, who keeps her dressed in finery, storing her as carefully as the other specimens he possesses.  On […]
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When alchemist’s apprentice Jolan “Flawless” Silas Bershad, a former noble heir and the most successful dragonslayer in Almira, the legendary and unkillable warrior is passed out drunk. In the remainder of Blood of an Exile’s first chapter, Bershad adds another dragon to his tally, but not without surviving what should have been fatal wounds. He is then commanded by his old nemesis Hertzog Malgrave, king of Almira, to return to the capital.

Once there, the king gives the warrior a proposal: infiltrate the impenetrable border of the Balarian Empire, assassinate the Emperor and rescue the king’s kidnapped daughter, in exchange for a pardon. The final incentive? Hertzog’s eldest daughter Ashlyn, once Bershad’s betrothed, supports the plan. Meanwhile, a mysterious man named Garrett makes his way through the Almiran countryside, leaving chaos in his wake. Following in the tradition of grimdark fantasy, Bershad’s quest is littered with moral ambiguity and viscera, and neither his survival nor the survival of his homeland is at all assured.

Brian Naslund’s thoroughly enjoyable debut could easily be yet another entry in the rapidly growing canon of gritty fantasy, but it distinguishes itself by the depth of its environment. In fact, this fantasy epic features a war over the ecological impacts of dragon hunting and includes a compendium of the various species of dragon as an appendix. Naslund displays equal fluency when crafting vivid battles and compelling, slightly wonkish academic disputes. And to his credit, although he doesn’t shy away from sex or gore, he doesn’t rely on them to carry the novel either and instead relies on the tension of his plot.

The one possible weakness in Blood of an Exile, at least for fans of darker fantasy novels, is the occasional softening of its adherence to grimdark plot devices. Unlike similar authors Abercrombie or Cook, the moral ambiguity of Naslund’s protagonists can seem a little forced. However, the story is compelling all the same. This is a hybrid of grimdark and high fantasy, with a fairly typical quest to save the world seasoned with descriptive grit and an incredibly thorough, well-designed world.

Blood of an Exile is a perfect choice for readers who want an intelligent, well-crafted fantasy novel that draws on the grimdark aesthetic but prefer their stories without any extra helpings of hopelessness.

When alchemist’s apprentice Jolan “Flawless” Silas Bershad, a former noble heir and the most successful dragonslayer in Almira, the legendary and unkillable warrior is passed out drunk.

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Sometimes it can feel as if the world of science fiction and fantasy is nothing but epic tales spanning thousands of pages and dozens of books. And while those reads are enjoyable, sometimes a good novella is just what the librarian ordered. C.S.E. Cooney’s Desdemona and the Deep, the standalone third book in the Dark Breakers series, is a perfect palate cleanser.

The land of Seafall is a study in excess, and Desdemona is at the center of it all with nothing to occupy her mind except her mother’s dreadful charity events and her best friend, Chaz. But that was before she learned the origin of her family’s fortune. Her father’s family made a series of deals with the goblin king, the latest of which left hundreds dead and a handful trapped in the world below. Determined to right her family’s wrongs, Desdemona embarks on a quest to enter the underground worlds to bargain for the lives her father callously threw away.

One of the things that makes Desdemona and the Deep so compelling is that in its scant pages, Cooney manages to sketch the boundaries and vagaries of not just one fantastic world, but of three. Desdemona’s world, the world above, is a too-real Gilded Age nightmare where the poor suffer to make the opulent lives of robber barons possible. The worlds below are equally vivid, the dark and sharp world of the goblins standing in stark contrast to the gentry’s light and dreamy plane. That the three worlds are so distinct would be impressive in a much longer book. Within the confines of novella, it is a feat.

Another thing that makes Cooney’s world building remarkable is that, unlike many fantasy writers, she isn’t content to plop a society much like ours onto a foreign set. If sculptures can come to life, Cooney’s world asks us, is it really so strange to have a world that is more accepting and affirming of its LGBTQ citizens? Of course not. And that’s part of the power of these worlds. It’s not just their ability to showcase the fantastical. It’s their ability to showcase both the best of what humanity could be and the worst of what we have been.

The one drawback to Cooney’s latest novella is also one of the things that makes it so fun: It’s a novella. The shortened format means that Chaz and Desdemona’s story almost feels cut short because we don’t get to see as much of the worlds below as we might in a longer novel. But their journey is still a well-crafted one. A gripping tale from beginning to end, Desdemona and the Deep is a great read for anyone who loves a good fairy story.

Sometimes it can feel as if the world of science fiction and fantasy is nothing but epic tales spanning thousands of pages and dozens of books. And while those reads are enjoyable, sometimes a good novella is just what the librarian ordered. C.S.E. Cooney’s Desdemona and the Deep, the standalone third book in the Dark Breakers series, is a perfect palate cleanser.

The trope of a doe-eyed, innocent waif wandering a spectacular wonderland is well-worn by authors of classic fantasy and science fiction, but the magic that Silvia Moreno-Garcia weaves in her 1920s-set historical fantasy, Gods of Jade and Shadow, immerses the reader in a fairy tale like no other. The author of Signal to Noise and The Beautiful Ones is known for celebrating remarkable heroines of Mexican heritage, and her protagonist Casiopea Tun certainly does not disappoint.

Casiopea is a star-crossed Cenicienta who refuses to let fate, mysticism, prophecies and other such rubbish dictate her life. Scorned and neglected by her wealthy family because of her supposedly bastard heritage,  she opts for curiosity and wit over lashing out against her cantankerous grandfather, Cirilo Leyva, and dangerously spoiled cousin, Martín. When the imaginative Casiopea opens a mysterious locked chest in Cirilo’s bedroom à la Pandora, she unleashes the bones of one of the gods of the underworld: the stoic and dryly humorous Hun-Kamé, former (and self-titled “rightful”) Lord of Xibalba.

After learning that she is inextricably bound to Hun-Kamé until he is able to defeat his treacherous brother, Vucub-Kamé, and that she and Martín will play important roles in the battle for the crown, the simultaneously sheltered and exploited Casiopea embarks on a cross-country, darkly whimsical adventure to both restore Hun-Kamé to the throne and regain her independence. Casiopea is not a damsel in distress, but rather a young woman coming of age in a time where music, myth, art and exploration thrum colorfully around her, and her affinity for poetry and storytelling, gleaned from her deceased father, keeps her motivated and hopeful.

Casiopea explores what it means to live on the fringe—she is neither Tun nor Leyva, of Middleworld nor Xibalba, country girl nor flapper of Mexico City’s Jazz Age renaissance—while learning about love and loss, grief and greed, strength and perseverance. Unlike her namesake in Greek mythology, she is far from vain, possessing instead resourcefulness and a willingness to sacrifice for the well-being of others. Casiopea encounters demons, succubi, monsters and sorcerers along the way, from Tierra Blanca to the Black Road—settings that glimmer like the Mayan obsidian and jade that the gods are so fond of. The book also includes bleak but nonetheless vivid depictions of Xibalba itself, a nightmarish hellscape home to dangerous, but wondrous, beings.

Readers will be floored by Moreno-Garcia’s painstaking attention to detail. Her descriptions of the emotionally charged interactions between realistic human characters and otherworldly gods, witches and demonic forces are unforgettable, as are as the fairy-tale and folktale aspects of the plot. As Hun-Kamé and Casiopea grow closer, physically and psychologically, the two experience and share what it truly means to live—and die. When Casiopea enters her new life, she is assured that “’Tis better to have loved and lost, than never to have loved at all.”

The trope of a doe-eyed, innocent waif wandering a spectacular wonderland is well-worn by authors of classic fantasy and science fiction, but the magic that Silvia Moreno-Garcia weaves in Gods of Jade and Shadow immerses the reader in a fairy tale like no other.

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An all-female dystopia with rich language and intricate characters, Wilder Girls offers a taste of something new in a sea of predictable YA apocalypses.

Almost two years have passed since the Tox, a mysterious disease, first ravaged the bodies of the girls and teachers at Raxter School for Girls, an isolated island boarding school. Now there’s only a fraction of them left, and they’ve learned to adapt to the new additions to their bodies—gills, silver scales and second spines—and to the changed environment of the island in order to survive. Their most sacred rule? Never break quarantine, never go outside the fence. 

But when Hetty’s closest friend, Byatt, has a flare-up and goes missing, following the rules becomes the last thing on Hetty’s mind. She will do whatever it takes to get to Byatt, even if it means putting herself in even more danger. But when she ventures past the fence, what she finds on the other side may not be what she expected.

In our current cultural and political climate, it’s refreshing to find a young adult novel that showcases and celebrates the enduring strength of women, even in the face of unimaginable hardship. First-time author Rory Power is particularly adept at illustrating the dynamics of female friendship, as well as exploring queer romantic relationships. All of these relevant topics, set against a stark and high-risk backdrop, make Wilder Girls stand out from the crowd and practically demand to be read. 

An all-female dystopia with rich language and intricate characters, Wilder Girls offers a taste of something new in a sea of predictable YA apocalypses.

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When the Sinner’s Plague strikes a village in Sabor, the villagers know what to do. A lit beacon will summon the Crows, who will deal a quick mercy to the victims, then burn the bodies to contain the spread of disease. In return, the wandering Crows—the most reviled and least blessed of all social castes—expect payment, sometimes in the form of travel supplies and sometimes in the form of the teeth of the dead.

Fie has grown up knowing that she’ll someday be chief of her Crow band. That day comes sooner than she expects when her father swears a Covenant Oath with an escaped prince. Her father promises Prince Jasimir that the band will see him and his body double, the Hawk Tavin, safely to his political allies, while Jasimir in turn promises the Crows protection from the armed vigilantes of the Oleander Gentry. Before either end of the oath can be kept, though, Fie and her band must navigate a range of obstacles, ranging from geographic to supernatural to romantic. As Jasimir’s enemies begin to attack, will the magic of ancient witches’ teeth be enough to keep Fie, her band and their traveling companions safe? What terrors hide in the darkness? And what if Fie decides that she doesn’t want to be a Crow chief after all?

Margaret Owen weaves a multilayered fantasy world of masks, mercy and magic into The Merciful Crow, a dark fantasy that’s perfect for “Game of Thrones” fans.

 

ALSO IN BOOKPAGE: Read our Q&A with Margaret Owen about The Merciful Crow.

Margaret Owen weaves a multilayered fantasy world of masks, mercy and magic into The Merciful Crow, a dark fantasy that’s perfect for “Game of Thrones” fans.

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Kira Jane Buxton’s hilariously philosophical and formidable first novel, Hollow Kingdom, tackles humankind’s most existential questions.

Narrated by a foulmouthed, Cheetos-loving pet crow named S.T., the story starts in Seattle, Washington, where a terrible virus has turned all humans into zombies. When S.T.’s owner, Big Jim, succumbs to the virus’ effects, S.T. leaves the only home he has known to find some answers and possibly a cure. What he learns, however, is gut-wrenching. The human race as he knew it has ceased to exist, destroyed by their own addiction to technology. What now roams the earth are not humans but rather highly mutated and heinous creatures whose only purpose is to destroy.

World annihilation doesn’t necessarily make for a fun read, except perhaps when told by a domesticated crow that has watched a lot of TV and thinks himself half-human. Equally fascinating is the odd squad of dogs, cats and other birds who have joined S.T. in this post-apocalyptic odyssey. There might not be humans or the world wide web anymore, but that doesn’t really seem to matter, as Buxton does a stellar job of anthropomorphizing the novel’s animals and adding drama, suspense, tragedy and hope. It’s amazing that such a bizarre and far-fetched story can connect so deeply with our reality and its discussions about social media, climate change, immigration and self-identity.

It doesn’t get any weirder, funnier or better than Hollow Kingdom.

Kira Jane Buxton’s hilariously philosophical and formidable first novel, Hollow Kingdom, tackles humankind’s most existential questions.

Inspired by Grimm’s “Twelve Dancing Princesses,” this gothic fantasy is brimming with ghosts, murder, mythology and romance.

Annaleigh Thaumas is one of 12 sisters who live in the seaside estate of Highmoor in the mythical kingdom of Arcannia. Locals believe Highmoor is cursed, as four of Annaleigh’s sisters have died in tragic and gruesome ways. When Annaleigh’s naive stepmother insists on a ball to end the long mourning period, the sisters bedeck themselves in expensive shoes and luscious gowns, only to find themselves shunned by society. Desperate for company, the girls sneak out through a magical door to attend dances in distant places where no one has ever heard of the Thaumas curse. Meanwhile, Annaleigh, who is being haunted by the ghosts of her dead sisters, is investigating their deaths even as she begins a budding romance with the enigmatic Cassius. When tragedy strikes again, Annaleigh must uncover who, or what, is killing the Thaumas girls before she is next.

Atmospheric, intense and macabre, House of Salt and Sorrows is a smorgasbord of gothic subgenres but a murder mystery at its core. Once the story builds momentum, it rapidly revs up the stakes, making for a devouring and page-turning read.

Inspired by Grimm’s “Twelve Dancing Princesses,” this gothic fantasy is brimming with ghosts, murder, mythology and romance.
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I’ll admit it—sometimes I can’t keep up with science fiction novels I read. It’s not for lack of trying; I’ll keep doggedly reading even if the complexities of the plot confuse me or the science has gotten too “science-y” or the concepts are so philosophical I feel like I’m back in lectures just trying to maintain a C for the course. It can be downright exhausting. Thank goodness that, despite being a wild ride across the galaxy, Max Gladstone’s Empress of Forever has the perfect amount of self-awareness and heart to maintain its wilder moments.

Vivian Liao is tired of being herself. A Steve Jobs-esque super CEO in Earth’s near future, she controls a vast technological empire, but increasingly suspects that her enemies are closing in on her success. In a last-ditch effort to take control of her life (and the world), Viv fakes her own death and breaks into a server room where, with a few quick keystrokes, she’d be able to take over all data on earth. Just as the last loading bar creeps toward 100 percent, a woman bathed in light grabs Viv and, somehow, rips her out of her existence and into a far future galaxy full of robots where she is the only human. With nothing but questions and a few fantastic companions by her side, Viv must scour the galaxy for an answer to a simple question: “How the heck do I get home?”

The answer involves a kaleidoscopic journey through space on a ship called, of course, the Question. And the journey wouldn’t be half as fun without the ensemble cast Gladstone builds around Viv the moment she arrives in the post-human future. There’s a forest-dwelling Viking princess-pilot, a robed monk who treats Viv like a miracle, a creature called Gray who steals dreams and Zanj, a wrathful demigod hell bent on the same thing as Viv—finding the Empress and exacting revenge. Each core member of the team is given plenty of page time, and in its best moments, Empress feels like Guardians of the Galaxy mixed with a healthy, swashbuckling dose of Pirates of the Caribbean.

With Empress, Gladstone stands confidently on the shoulders of his Craft Sequence to create a confident, poignant, expansive world. Though he never holds back in the imagination department, it’s the smaller interactions between characters that forms the foundation. It might be hard to build a new universe, but it is even harder to fill it with people that readers instinctively know both belong and deserve to be there.

So I need not have worried that Gladstone would leave me behind. Though the Question finds itself hurtling through a dizzying, incredible universe, Viv and her friends were right there to keep me company.

 

ALSO IN BOOKPAGE: Go Behind the Book with Max Gladstone.

I’ll admit it—sometimes I can’t keep up with science fiction novels I read. It’s not for lack of trying; I’ll keep doggedly reading even if the complexities of the plot confuse me or the science has gotten too “science-y” or the concepts are so philosophical I feel like I’m back in lectures just trying to maintain a C for the course. It can be downright exhausting. Thank goodness that, despite being a wild ride across the galaxy, Max Gladstone’s Empress of Forever has the perfect amount of self-awareness and heart to maintain its wilder moments.

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