6:00 PM | 
Posted by
Łukasz |
Labels:
Official Author Website
Order Timberwolf over HERE
Today we have the pleasure of Dominic Adler visiting us and chatting about his SPFBO entry Timberwolf. Timberwolf was in Adam's lot and while it unfortunately was cut, it left an indelible impression on Adam and me. It's a fantastic spy thriller set in a secondary fantasy world that's modeled on 1930s Germany with Gods playing games. Think City Of Stairs meets Fatherland and you'll have an inkling of what to expect. Dominic talks about his beginnings, his previous work and what inspired him to write this fantastic story.
Q] Welcome to Fantasy Book Critic Dominic. To begin with, could you tell us a little about yourself, your background & your interests?
DA: Hi, thanks for having me. I’m Dominic Adler and I write thrillers and speculative fiction. After college and a stint in the army reserves, I joined the Metropolitan Police here in London. I ended up serving for 25 years. More importantly, I am a proud uber-geek – I love gaming, movies, SF and Fantasy of all stripes, tanks and armoured vehicles, otters, dad jokes and beer. I’m an avid horology nut too (in case you’re wondering, today I’m wearing a vintage Seiko 6306 from 1978).
Q] What inspired you to be a writer in the first place, what experience you went through in finishing your book, and why you chose to go the self-publishing route?
DA: I’ve been writing since I was nine or ten, the sort of stuff that gets your parents called to school for a chat (true story, I did a riff on the Moses in the bulrushes story that got a bit, er, Friday the 13th). Later, I tried my hand at student journalism.
Joining the police led to a bit of an interregnum – it’s not a great place for writers, as everything has to be vetted, even stuff that’s got nothing to do with policing. Writing a book about baking cakes? You have to fill out a form and submit the script so someone can check it doesn’t upset anyone. Nonetheless, the urge to write got too strong; I found an agent, played the vetting / submitting game and managed to get three espionage thrillers published by an indie (the Cal Winter series).
After I left the police, I was able to do what I liked. When I decided to wear two hats – thriller writer and fantasy writer, I decided to self-publish the fantasy side. I wanted to work on a project where I was in charge.
Q] Please elaborate how the genesis of Timberwolf occurred. How long have you been working on it? Has it evolved from its original idea?
DA: I’ve no idea why I began writing about the roguish son of a circus knife-thrower. He was called Axel Geist, and he popped into my head from nowhere. Then other characters appeared – Roland, a former boxer, undertaker and encyclopedia salesman who finds himself imprisoned for his sexuality. Then there’s Otto Kamner, a fanatical Timberwolf officer, dark paladin of the Stassian regime. Kirsten zu Dahlenbourg, a scientist who wraps Axel around her little finger. And the star of the show – Bassarus, Old God of Deceit and Duke of Hell. Bassarus is half Frank-N-Furter, half Loki from the Avengers, a swaggering trickster, braggart and ne’er do well.
And at the back of my mind was the ‘Wolfhound Century’ trilogy by Peter Higgins, set in an alternative Soviet Union that isn’t. Axel, I decided, would be from an analogue of late-Weimar Germany. So much fantasy takes place in faux-medieval settings, which is fine, but I’m seeing more writers explore different timelines – Joe Abercrombie’s world, for example, is in the early throes of an industrial revolution as magic fades. If you look at Peter McLean’s ‘Priest of Bones’ you’ll see a near Georgian / early industrial vibe too. And Django Wexler’s been writing great Napoleonic-esque fantasy for a while.
So I thought to myself, okay, the mid-20th Century’s where I’m setting up camp. I ended up with a phantasmagoria of things I adored about thrillers and fantasy – a mashup of 1930s noir with Sven Hassell-style grimdark battle scenes and a Moorcockian servant-of-the-Gods-vibe. Timberwolf took eighteen months to write and was part labour of love, part exercise in crazy self-indulgence. Believe it or not, once I got an editor, I reigned some of it in. Thanks, Mandy, you’re a star.
DA: Hi, thanks for having me. I’m Dominic Adler and I write thrillers and speculative fiction. After college and a stint in the army reserves, I joined the Metropolitan Police here in London. I ended up serving for 25 years. More importantly, I am a proud uber-geek – I love gaming, movies, SF and Fantasy of all stripes, tanks and armoured vehicles, otters, dad jokes and beer. I’m an avid horology nut too (in case you’re wondering, today I’m wearing a vintage Seiko 6306 from 1978).
Q] What inspired you to be a writer in the first place, what experience you went through in finishing your book, and why you chose to go the self-publishing route?
DA: I’ve been writing since I was nine or ten, the sort of stuff that gets your parents called to school for a chat (true story, I did a riff on the Moses in the bulrushes story that got a bit, er, Friday the 13th). Later, I tried my hand at student journalism.
Joining the police led to a bit of an interregnum – it’s not a great place for writers, as everything has to be vetted, even stuff that’s got nothing to do with policing. Writing a book about baking cakes? You have to fill out a form and submit the script so someone can check it doesn’t upset anyone. Nonetheless, the urge to write got too strong; I found an agent, played the vetting / submitting game and managed to get three espionage thrillers published by an indie (the Cal Winter series).
After I left the police, I was able to do what I liked. When I decided to wear two hats – thriller writer and fantasy writer, I decided to self-publish the fantasy side. I wanted to work on a project where I was in charge.
Q] Please elaborate how the genesis of Timberwolf occurred. How long have you been working on it? Has it evolved from its original idea?
DA: I’ve no idea why I began writing about the roguish son of a circus knife-thrower. He was called Axel Geist, and he popped into my head from nowhere. Then other characters appeared – Roland, a former boxer, undertaker and encyclopedia salesman who finds himself imprisoned for his sexuality. Then there’s Otto Kamner, a fanatical Timberwolf officer, dark paladin of the Stassian regime. Kirsten zu Dahlenbourg, a scientist who wraps Axel around her little finger. And the star of the show – Bassarus, Old God of Deceit and Duke of Hell. Bassarus is half Frank-N-Furter, half Loki from the Avengers, a swaggering trickster, braggart and ne’er do well.
And at the back of my mind was the ‘Wolfhound Century’ trilogy by Peter Higgins, set in an alternative Soviet Union that isn’t. Axel, I decided, would be from an analogue of late-Weimar Germany. So much fantasy takes place in faux-medieval settings, which is fine, but I’m seeing more writers explore different timelines – Joe Abercrombie’s world, for example, is in the early throes of an industrial revolution as magic fades. If you look at Peter McLean’s ‘Priest of Bones’ you’ll see a near Georgian / early industrial vibe too. And Django Wexler’s been writing great Napoleonic-esque fantasy for a while.
So I thought to myself, okay, the mid-20th Century’s where I’m setting up camp. I ended up with a phantasmagoria of things I adored about thrillers and fantasy – a mashup of 1930s noir with Sven Hassell-style grimdark battle scenes and a Moorcockian servant-of-the-Gods-vibe. Timberwolf took eighteen months to write and was part labour of love, part exercise in crazy self-indulgence. Believe it or not, once I got an editor, I reigned some of it in. Thanks, Mandy, you’re a star.
(Chernobyl poster courtesy of Federico Mauro)
Q] Timberwolf seems to be the first volume of the so far unnamed series. Could you give us a progress report on the sequel, offer any hints about it and outline your plans for the series as a whole?
DA: My plan was to write a fantasy cycle inspired by mid-20th century history, encompassing a timeline that goes all the way from Dieselpunk to Cassette Futurism. I grew up in the 70s and 80s, so found myself fascinated by the fandom that grew up around the HBO series ‘Chernobyl’ (which makes me feel old). Well, buckle up, I’ve got a fantasy series that’ll take you all the way there – I’m writing the second book right now. You’ll learn more about the Dominion and the Immaculata of Pyr, plus Axel ends up in the Stassian-occupied casino city of San Remy. He’s looking fabulous in a tuxedo, sipping cocktails with his succubus sidekick, Hexberyn of the Dusk-Sworn.
Q] When did you first hear about SPFBO? What spurred you on to enter SPFBO?
DA: I’ve been following SPFBO for a while via the Grimdark Facebook group. I’ve enjoyed entries by Rob Hayes and Jonathan French, plus I totally called Orconomics as a winner. The utter brutality of SPFBO appealed to me, I suspected I never stood a chance but threw my hat in the ring anyway. SPFBO, to me, is like an extended online version of the Edinburgh Festival for indie fantasy. I think that’s pretty special, so cheers to all the bloggers who put in so much graft to make it happen, and to Mark Lawrence for putting it together. Group hug (oh, that’s not allowed right now, is it? Make it a virtual hug).
Q] It is a tad difficult to classify your book. If I had to come up with an elevator pitch for it, I would try “Fatherland meets City Of Stairs” knowing that it doesn’t capture the essence precisely. What’s your elevator pitch? Is there a specific sub-genre you would classify it as?
DA: I think a good start would be your very own Adam Weller’s description – ‘Bananas.’ My pitch would probably be, “look, let’s have a three-bottle lunch and talk this through. It’s too strange for an elevator.” To be serious, though, it’s a science-fantasy romp with an unreliable narrator, lots of action, a grimdark WW2 espionage vibe and a sprinkling of Lovecraftian weird. Oh, and it’s funny in places too.
Q] Let’s talk about your book’s genre. Technically it’s a dieselpunk spy thriller as well as a secondary fantasy that’s set in a land which is very much similar to 1930s Germany. Can you tell us more about the world, the history of the Stassian nation, its neighbours and the peculiarities of the world?
DA: Okay, the world is split in two by a belt of poisoned, impassable desert called the Scoria. People figure it’s the result of some magical accident, but they’re not sure. Most scholars suspect the Old Gods’ involvement somehow, so in most places worshipping them is frowned upon, if not illegal. Anyhow, north of the Scoria is the continent of Geskander, to the south is a sprawling federation called the Dominion. They’re 12000 miles apart, and the only way to travel between them is via ultra-fast blink trains controlled by the Dominion. The blink train network is an ancient artefact, restored by a deity known as The Redeemer.
Stassia seeks to control the whole of Geskander and keeps invading her neighbours (known as the Triptych states). Last time this happened was during the Honour War, which the Dominion joined at the last minute, humiliating Stassia. This led to the rise of a nationalistic authoritarian government in Stassia (yes, it’s modelled mainly on 1930s fascism, but with a sprinkling of Stalinist tropes too). Twenty-odd years after that war, the Stassians are ready to try again. Enter the Old Gods, a mysterious and selfish bunch, and a big part of the story.
Q] Let’s talk about the religious aspect of your world. You have these old gods who are present and no longer worshipped. But the main characters don’t really talk about what replaces the gods. Was this intentional? What can you say about this world and religious set up which you have introduced?
DA: Yes, it’s entirely intentional. The deity recognized north and south of the Scoria is the Redeemer. He was a sorcerer who, by eschewing magic, restored the blink line. Then he disappeared, asking only that people follow his teachings. So he’s a benign, non-interventionist kind of deity. Yet the question remains – who or what is the Redeemer? A god, or something else? In my world there are Baroons, liches who seek to bridge the gap between sorcery and science, god and mortal. Was the Redeemer among their number? Scriptures were destroyed, people are trying to figure out the past; I wanted it to be ambiguous and mysterious. The Old Gods hate this. They crave devotion to fuel their powers. They lurk in the shadows, trying to influence mortals to do their bidding. Sorcery, in my world, is a gift from the Old Gods.
Q] So for someone who hasn't read any of your novels, how would you describe the type of stories that you write, what would be your pitch for Timberwolf?
DA: If you enjoy military / espionage thrillers, you might like the Cal Winter series. They feature gunfights, gadgets, Parapolitics, London locations, information warfare and real-world espionage, as seen through the eyes of a near-junkie private military contractor / indentured assassin. It’s noirish and laced with dark humour. I try and capture that old ensemble vibe with lots of characters – if you like movies like ‘Where Eagles Dare’ or ‘Ronin’, you might like my stuff too. I’ve also written a post-apocalyptic detective novel set in London called ‘Dark as Angels’. That’s been described as a mashup of ‘Mad Max’ and ‘Die Hard’ with a dash of ‘Luther’. As for Timberwolf? Bond-meets-Lovecraft-meets WW2 action movie. With some Indiana Jones.
DA: My plan was to write a fantasy cycle inspired by mid-20th century history, encompassing a timeline that goes all the way from Dieselpunk to Cassette Futurism. I grew up in the 70s and 80s, so found myself fascinated by the fandom that grew up around the HBO series ‘Chernobyl’ (which makes me feel old). Well, buckle up, I’ve got a fantasy series that’ll take you all the way there – I’m writing the second book right now. You’ll learn more about the Dominion and the Immaculata of Pyr, plus Axel ends up in the Stassian-occupied casino city of San Remy. He’s looking fabulous in a tuxedo, sipping cocktails with his succubus sidekick, Hexberyn of the Dusk-Sworn.
Q] When did you first hear about SPFBO? What spurred you on to enter SPFBO?
DA: I’ve been following SPFBO for a while via the Grimdark Facebook group. I’ve enjoyed entries by Rob Hayes and Jonathan French, plus I totally called Orconomics as a winner. The utter brutality of SPFBO appealed to me, I suspected I never stood a chance but threw my hat in the ring anyway. SPFBO, to me, is like an extended online version of the Edinburgh Festival for indie fantasy. I think that’s pretty special, so cheers to all the bloggers who put in so much graft to make it happen, and to Mark Lawrence for putting it together. Group hug (oh, that’s not allowed right now, is it? Make it a virtual hug).
Q] It is a tad difficult to classify your book. If I had to come up with an elevator pitch for it, I would try “Fatherland meets City Of Stairs” knowing that it doesn’t capture the essence precisely. What’s your elevator pitch? Is there a specific sub-genre you would classify it as?
DA: I think a good start would be your very own Adam Weller’s description – ‘Bananas.’ My pitch would probably be, “look, let’s have a three-bottle lunch and talk this through. It’s too strange for an elevator.” To be serious, though, it’s a science-fantasy romp with an unreliable narrator, lots of action, a grimdark WW2 espionage vibe and a sprinkling of Lovecraftian weird. Oh, and it’s funny in places too.
Q] Let’s talk about your book’s genre. Technically it’s a dieselpunk spy thriller as well as a secondary fantasy that’s set in a land which is very much similar to 1930s Germany. Can you tell us more about the world, the history of the Stassian nation, its neighbours and the peculiarities of the world?
DA: Okay, the world is split in two by a belt of poisoned, impassable desert called the Scoria. People figure it’s the result of some magical accident, but they’re not sure. Most scholars suspect the Old Gods’ involvement somehow, so in most places worshipping them is frowned upon, if not illegal. Anyhow, north of the Scoria is the continent of Geskander, to the south is a sprawling federation called the Dominion. They’re 12000 miles apart, and the only way to travel between them is via ultra-fast blink trains controlled by the Dominion. The blink train network is an ancient artefact, restored by a deity known as The Redeemer.
Stassia seeks to control the whole of Geskander and keeps invading her neighbours (known as the Triptych states). Last time this happened was during the Honour War, which the Dominion joined at the last minute, humiliating Stassia. This led to the rise of a nationalistic authoritarian government in Stassia (yes, it’s modelled mainly on 1930s fascism, but with a sprinkling of Stalinist tropes too). Twenty-odd years after that war, the Stassians are ready to try again. Enter the Old Gods, a mysterious and selfish bunch, and a big part of the story.
Q] Let’s talk about the religious aspect of your world. You have these old gods who are present and no longer worshipped. But the main characters don’t really talk about what replaces the gods. Was this intentional? What can you say about this world and religious set up which you have introduced?
DA: Yes, it’s entirely intentional. The deity recognized north and south of the Scoria is the Redeemer. He was a sorcerer who, by eschewing magic, restored the blink line. Then he disappeared, asking only that people follow his teachings. So he’s a benign, non-interventionist kind of deity. Yet the question remains – who or what is the Redeemer? A god, or something else? In my world there are Baroons, liches who seek to bridge the gap between sorcery and science, god and mortal. Was the Redeemer among their number? Scriptures were destroyed, people are trying to figure out the past; I wanted it to be ambiguous and mysterious. The Old Gods hate this. They crave devotion to fuel their powers. They lurk in the shadows, trying to influence mortals to do their bidding. Sorcery, in my world, is a gift from the Old Gods.
Q] So for someone who hasn't read any of your novels, how would you describe the type of stories that you write, what would be your pitch for Timberwolf?
DA: If you enjoy military / espionage thrillers, you might like the Cal Winter series. They feature gunfights, gadgets, Parapolitics, London locations, information warfare and real-world espionage, as seen through the eyes of a near-junkie private military contractor / indentured assassin. It’s noirish and laced with dark humour. I try and capture that old ensemble vibe with lots of characters – if you like movies like ‘Where Eagles Dare’ or ‘Ronin’, you might like my stuff too. I’ve also written a post-apocalyptic detective novel set in London called ‘Dark as Angels’. That’s been described as a mashup of ‘Mad Max’ and ‘Die Hard’ with a dash of ‘Luther’. As for Timberwolf? Bond-meets-Lovecraft-meets WW2 action movie. With some Indiana Jones.
Q] Cover art is always an important factor in book sales. Your cover is stark and very much thriller-esque. Can you tell our readers about the idea behind its inception & how you worked with your designer for the finished product?
DA: I’m one of those writers who prefers to let people do what they’re good at – and I’m not a cover designer or an editor or a formatter. I sent Peter (from bespokebookcovers.com) some blurb and he sent me more or less the cover you see now. I think I asked the font to be tweaked but that’s about it. He also did the cover for ‘Dark as Angels’, he’s an easy guy to work with, a real pro.
Q] So what can readers expect from this book/series and what should they be looking forward to according to you?
DA: I hope people enjoy Axel Geist’s adventures, the cast of characters I’ve created and the world-building behind Timberwolf. There’s sorcery, romance, war, intrigue, panzers, state surveillance and a stuffed badger called Hans. Having said that, I think you can enjoy Timberwolf on a number of levels – there’s lots of details to pore over and Easter eggs be found, but if you simply want to go along for the ride that’s cool too.
Q] Thank you for taking the time to answer all the questions. In closing, do you have any parting thoughts or comments you would like to share with our readers?
DA: Thanks for the interview, it was fun. I’d like to say two things – good luck to the SPFBO semifinalists, and for those about to join me on the slush pile… I salute you! Secondly, a shout-out to my editor Mandy Crook from seemeafter.com. She’s great fun to work with and has an eye for detail I’d die for. Hopefully she’ll be part of the team for the next Axel Geist story too.
DA: I’m one of those writers who prefers to let people do what they’re good at – and I’m not a cover designer or an editor or a formatter. I sent Peter (from bespokebookcovers.com) some blurb and he sent me more or less the cover you see now. I think I asked the font to be tweaked but that’s about it. He also did the cover for ‘Dark as Angels’, he’s an easy guy to work with, a real pro.
Q] So what can readers expect from this book/series and what should they be looking forward to according to you?
DA: I hope people enjoy Axel Geist’s adventures, the cast of characters I’ve created and the world-building behind Timberwolf. There’s sorcery, romance, war, intrigue, panzers, state surveillance and a stuffed badger called Hans. Having said that, I think you can enjoy Timberwolf on a number of levels – there’s lots of details to pore over and Easter eggs be found, but if you simply want to go along for the ride that’s cool too.
Q] Thank you for taking the time to answer all the questions. In closing, do you have any parting thoughts or comments you would like to share with our readers?
DA: Thanks for the interview, it was fun. I’d like to say two things – good luck to the SPFBO semifinalists, and for those about to join me on the slush pile… I salute you! Secondly, a shout-out to my editor Mandy Crook from seemeafter.com. She’s great fun to work with and has an eye for detail I’d die for. Hopefully she’ll be part of the team for the next Axel Geist story too.
Official Author Website
Order the book HERE
Read Caitlin’s review of The Ruin Of Kings
Read Caitlin’s review of The Name Of All Things
OFFICIAL AUTHOR INFO: Jenn Lyons lives in Atlanta, Georgia with her husband, three cats and a nearly infinite number of opinions on anything from Sumerian mythology to the correct way to make a martini. Formally a video game producer, she now writes full time. A long-time devotee of storytelling, Lyons traces her geek roots back to playing first edition Dungeons & Dragons in grade school and reading her way from A to Z in the school’s library.
OFFICIAL BOOK BLURB: THE LONGER HE LIVES, THE MORE DANGEROUS HE BECOMES
Now that Relos Var’s plans have been revealed and demons are free to rampage across the empire, the fulfillment of the ancient prophecies―and the end of the world―is closer than ever.
To buy time for humanity, Kihrin needs to convince the king of the Manol vané to perform an ancient ritual which will strip the entire race of their immortality, but it’s a ritual which certain vané will do anything to prevent. Including assassinating the messengers.
Worse, Kihrin must come to terms with the horrifying possibility that his connection to the king of demons, Vol Karoth, is growing steadily in strength.
How can he hope to save anyone when he might turn out to be the greatest threat of them all?
FORMAT/INFO: The Memory of Souls was published August 25th, 2020 by Tor Books. It is 608 pages split over 114 chapters and an epilogue. It is written in both first and third person from a variety of viewpoints, including Kihrin, Janel and Tereath. It is available in hardcover, ebook, and audiobook formats.
OVERVIEW/ANALYSIS: The magical cage that holds the evil god Vol Karoth is weakening. Tricked by Relos Var, Khirin accidentally destroyed one of the eight gems holding the prison together. Only one thing can repair the damage: the Ritual of Night. But the Ritual can only be powered by an immortal race sacrificing their immortality, and the Manol vané aren’t inclined to give up being the last immortal race on the continent. Complicating matters even further, Kihrin and Janel are beginning to remember their past lives – and the memories they recover reveal dark secrets from thousands of years ago.
I have a complicated relationship with the A Chorus of Dragons series. I always enjoy them moment to moment, but when I step back, I’m never quite sure who to recommend these books to. For instance, I’ve appreciated on occasion the liberties its taken with timelines, but this device has been very divisive in the past, particularly in the first book. In The Memory Of Souls, however, I found the beginning of the book very disjointed as it jumped across several viewpoints and points in the timeline, which I was trying to keep track of while also matching up my fuzzy memory of previous events to what was happening now. It eventually becomes much more linear of a story, but it wasn’t a great first impression. However, that could almost be forgiven by the fact that, after three books, I FINALLY understand what the heck is going on in the grand scheme of things.
A Chorus of Dragons has an incredibly complicated mythology and world-building, made more complicated by magic that allows reincarnation and soul-swapping between bodies. I’ve long since given up trying to track who is related to who, in part because at the end of the day, it feels like everyone is related to everyone. In a very Greek mythology feel, whenever you have a group of characters together, every character is either related to, has slept with, or murdered (and none of these necessarily exclusively) every other character in the room. After a great deal of repetition of facts across three books, I’m getting a handle on the dynamics, in part because connections that were obscured are coming to light.
That is, after all, the crux of the book. While the past two titles have referred to particular magical artifacts, The Memory Of Souls refers to the fact that Kihrin, Janel, and Thurvishar are finally remembering their past lives, and in doing so, are remembering events that set this whole business into motion to begin with. Every book in the series has taken a slightly larger view of the world, and now we’re delving into the origins of the gods themselves, as well as the great evil Vol Karoth. Pieces that I didn’t know where to put are finally clicking into place, now that I have a fuller view of the board, and I almost want to go back and reread the first book now that I understand the connections.
As mentioned before, I really enjoy the moment to moment beats of The Memory Of Souls. That includes a truly spectacular end set-piece, and watching court politics revolving around some very complicated laws of inheritance, given that people dying and coming back to life isn’t unheard of. But in this book in particular, I felt like plot was given precedence over character. With more viewpoints than in either of the two books, I felt like I should have gotten to know people better, but I was a little cold on newer characters, particularly Talea. While I appreciated some of the romances, others just left me baffled, despite the author taking some time to establish them.
CONCLUSION: The Memory Of Souls is an instance where a book isn’t bad, it’s just not as great as it could have been. There are so many balls in the air, so many plots upon plots, and just SO many characters, I didn’t really latch onto one person in particular. I have a soft spot for Thurvishar, though he isn’t a POV character, and Janel, who I adored in the last book, only gets a handful of POV moments. Kihrin is instead one of the main POVs, and while he’s fine, I miss Janel. If you enjoyed the first two books, you’ll find a lot to appreciate here, particularly among some of the more twisty history moments. Despite the ups and downs, I keep being drawn back to these books. I’m on this train until the end, despite it being an occasionally bumpy ride.
Order the book HERE
Read Caitlin’s review of The Ruin Of Kings
Read Caitlin’s review of The Name Of All Things
OFFICIAL AUTHOR INFO: Jenn Lyons lives in Atlanta, Georgia with her husband, three cats and a nearly infinite number of opinions on anything from Sumerian mythology to the correct way to make a martini. Formally a video game producer, she now writes full time. A long-time devotee of storytelling, Lyons traces her geek roots back to playing first edition Dungeons & Dragons in grade school and reading her way from A to Z in the school’s library.
OFFICIAL BOOK BLURB: THE LONGER HE LIVES, THE MORE DANGEROUS HE BECOMES
Now that Relos Var’s plans have been revealed and demons are free to rampage across the empire, the fulfillment of the ancient prophecies―and the end of the world―is closer than ever.
To buy time for humanity, Kihrin needs to convince the king of the Manol vané to perform an ancient ritual which will strip the entire race of their immortality, but it’s a ritual which certain vané will do anything to prevent. Including assassinating the messengers.
Worse, Kihrin must come to terms with the horrifying possibility that his connection to the king of demons, Vol Karoth, is growing steadily in strength.
How can he hope to save anyone when he might turn out to be the greatest threat of them all?
FORMAT/INFO: The Memory of Souls was published August 25th, 2020 by Tor Books. It is 608 pages split over 114 chapters and an epilogue. It is written in both first and third person from a variety of viewpoints, including Kihrin, Janel and Tereath. It is available in hardcover, ebook, and audiobook formats.
OVERVIEW/ANALYSIS: The magical cage that holds the evil god Vol Karoth is weakening. Tricked by Relos Var, Khirin accidentally destroyed one of the eight gems holding the prison together. Only one thing can repair the damage: the Ritual of Night. But the Ritual can only be powered by an immortal race sacrificing their immortality, and the Manol vané aren’t inclined to give up being the last immortal race on the continent. Complicating matters even further, Kihrin and Janel are beginning to remember their past lives – and the memories they recover reveal dark secrets from thousands of years ago.
I have a complicated relationship with the A Chorus of Dragons series. I always enjoy them moment to moment, but when I step back, I’m never quite sure who to recommend these books to. For instance, I’ve appreciated on occasion the liberties its taken with timelines, but this device has been very divisive in the past, particularly in the first book. In The Memory Of Souls, however, I found the beginning of the book very disjointed as it jumped across several viewpoints and points in the timeline, which I was trying to keep track of while also matching up my fuzzy memory of previous events to what was happening now. It eventually becomes much more linear of a story, but it wasn’t a great first impression. However, that could almost be forgiven by the fact that, after three books, I FINALLY understand what the heck is going on in the grand scheme of things.
A Chorus of Dragons has an incredibly complicated mythology and world-building, made more complicated by magic that allows reincarnation and soul-swapping between bodies. I’ve long since given up trying to track who is related to who, in part because at the end of the day, it feels like everyone is related to everyone. In a very Greek mythology feel, whenever you have a group of characters together, every character is either related to, has slept with, or murdered (and none of these necessarily exclusively) every other character in the room. After a great deal of repetition of facts across three books, I’m getting a handle on the dynamics, in part because connections that were obscured are coming to light.
That is, after all, the crux of the book. While the past two titles have referred to particular magical artifacts, The Memory Of Souls refers to the fact that Kihrin, Janel, and Thurvishar are finally remembering their past lives, and in doing so, are remembering events that set this whole business into motion to begin with. Every book in the series has taken a slightly larger view of the world, and now we’re delving into the origins of the gods themselves, as well as the great evil Vol Karoth. Pieces that I didn’t know where to put are finally clicking into place, now that I have a fuller view of the board, and I almost want to go back and reread the first book now that I understand the connections.
As mentioned before, I really enjoy the moment to moment beats of The Memory Of Souls. That includes a truly spectacular end set-piece, and watching court politics revolving around some very complicated laws of inheritance, given that people dying and coming back to life isn’t unheard of. But in this book in particular, I felt like plot was given precedence over character. With more viewpoints than in either of the two books, I felt like I should have gotten to know people better, but I was a little cold on newer characters, particularly Talea. While I appreciated some of the romances, others just left me baffled, despite the author taking some time to establish them.
CONCLUSION: The Memory Of Souls is an instance where a book isn’t bad, it’s just not as great as it could have been. There are so many balls in the air, so many plots upon plots, and just SO many characters, I didn’t really latch onto one person in particular. I have a soft spot for Thurvishar, though he isn’t a POV character, and Janel, who I adored in the last book, only gets a handful of POV moments. Kihrin is instead one of the main POVs, and while he’s fine, I miss Janel. If you enjoyed the first two books, you’ll find a lot to appreciate here, particularly among some of the more twisty history moments. Despite the ups and downs, I keep being drawn back to these books. I’m on this train until the end, despite it being an occasionally bumpy ride.
Tuesday, September 1, 2020
Ash And Sand Trilogy's End Interview with Richard Nell (interviewed by Lukasz Przywoski & Mihir Wanchoo)
Official Author Website
Order Kings Of Heaven over HERE
Read Fantasy Book Critic's review of Kings Of Paradise
Read Fantasy Book Critic's review of Kings Of Ash
Read Fantasy Book Critic's review of Kings Of Heaven
Read Fantasy Book Critic's review of The God King's Legacy
Read Fantasy Book Critic Interview with Richard Nell
Read Fantasy Book Critic's The God King's Legacy Cover Reveal Q&A with Richard Nell
Q] Welcome back to Fantasy Book Critic Richard, many congratulations on the recent addition to your family. How’s life treating you?
RN: Thank you! Life is excellent. Also I think I’m coming right up on the historical average lifespan for a human male. So, I’m about to beat the stats.
Q] With the release of Kings Of Heaven today, this marks the end of your debut trilogy. That’s a massive achievement and as you noted also has more words than the LOTR trilogy. What are your thoughts since you began in this world from 2013?
RN: Whew. Well. Obsession can be useful. It’s a good personal lesson not to force things, but rather find something you enjoy (or love to hate) and follow it to the very end. It’s a bit like running a marathon or climbing a mountain, I suppose. You just don’t know what you’re capable of until you push yourself to some extreme. That’s what writing this trilogy has been for me.
Q] What began as a simple clash of cultures evolved into so much more? It was a treatise on the human condition, nature of politics and just how enigmatic a character Ruka is? What would you say in your opinion was the true focus of the trilogy?
RN: Everything is in the eye of the beholder, of course, and the books have many themes. I’ve certainly noticed over the years different themes will resonate with me depending more on where I am in life, rather than the story. But for me, right now, the ultimate exploration of the trilogy is this: how can anyone truly improve their world? I think I found a few answers to that in the writing, and I just hope a few others do too.
Order Kings Of Heaven over HERE
Read Fantasy Book Critic's review of Kings Of Paradise
Read Fantasy Book Critic's review of Kings Of Ash
Read Fantasy Book Critic's review of Kings Of Heaven
Read Fantasy Book Critic's review of The God King's Legacy
Read Fantasy Book Critic Interview with Richard Nell
Read Fantasy Book Critic's The God King's Legacy Cover Reveal Q&A with Richard Nell
Q] Welcome back to Fantasy Book Critic Richard, many congratulations on the recent addition to your family. How’s life treating you?
RN: Thank you! Life is excellent. Also I think I’m coming right up on the historical average lifespan for a human male. So, I’m about to beat the stats.
Q] With the release of Kings Of Heaven today, this marks the end of your debut trilogy. That’s a massive achievement and as you noted also has more words than the LOTR trilogy. What are your thoughts since you began in this world from 2013?
RN: Whew. Well. Obsession can be useful. It’s a good personal lesson not to force things, but rather find something you enjoy (or love to hate) and follow it to the very end. It’s a bit like running a marathon or climbing a mountain, I suppose. You just don’t know what you’re capable of until you push yourself to some extreme. That’s what writing this trilogy has been for me.
Q] What began as a simple clash of cultures evolved into so much more? It was a treatise on the human condition, nature of politics and just how enigmatic a character Ruka is? What would you say in your opinion was the true focus of the trilogy?
RN: Everything is in the eye of the beholder, of course, and the books have many themes. I’ve certainly noticed over the years different themes will resonate with me depending more on where I am in life, rather than the story. But for me, right now, the ultimate exploration of the trilogy is this: how can anyone truly improve their world? I think I found a few answers to that in the writing, and I just hope a few others do too.
Q] Many writers are pantsers and some outline extensively. You are a mix to a degree, however during the writing process of Kings Of Heaven. What twist surprised you even though you had outlined it?
RN: Oh dear, let me try to avoid spoilers. Let’s just say a certain character dies much earlier than I anticipated, forcing me to pants like I’ve never pantsed before, until sanity returned. If any reader predicts this twist before they arrive, I salute you.
Q] We never quite get any idea as to who was Ruka’s father? Infact in the entire series, it never gets mentioned much. With the Ascomi culture being a matriarchal one, this isn’t surprising but I was wondering if Ruka ever thought about it?
RN: Poor Brand. He deserves his own story, in a way, but you’re right, he doesn’t get much thought or attention. Indeed Ruka thinks of him with something approaching contempt - as a man who didn’t have the strength to overcome his culture and circumstances. This is quite callous, and not very fair. But many sons judge their fathers harshly, particularly those who are not pleased with the hand life dealt them.
Q] Turns out Bukayag wasn’t just a figment of Ruka’s imagination as the previous two books, we weren’t really clear about it. With this ending, we still don’t quite realize what exactly Bukayag is? Would you be able to talk about Bukayag and what he is?
RN: What indeed. I think we all recognize our thoughts and actions are not entirely in our control. Whether it’s Freud’s ‘unconscious’, or (perhaps more pertinently), the Jungian ‘shadow’, there are forces working on our psyche that are not very civilized, and often not good for us. I suspect the more dangerous the man, the more dangerous the shadow. And Ruka is a very dangerous man.
Q] Arun/Eka is such an enigmatic character and we never quite get the hang of how and where he gets his powers from? Can you talk a bit about what drives him and about his origins?
RN: What drives Arun are the same human impulses that drive us all - ambition, greed, loyalty, lust, fear, meaning, etc. It’s fair to say the Batonian monks (whom Arun comes from) are a somewhat mysterious group. Ultimately, they are the creation of Ando - a being of tremendous power. How is Ando so powerful? Well, that’s one of those questions, like ‘why does the universe exist?’ Perhaps there is an answer, but it seems unanswerable by us mere mortals.
Q] My favourite character is Dala and she gets quite some exciting action in this final book especially after her smaller role in Kings Of Ash. As you had mentioned that originally she had a much miniscule role. What would you say about her character arc and her role in this trilogy?
RN: That damn Dala. At first I just wanted an important female POV in the land of ash. The matriarchy and several aspects of feminine power in such a society needed to be contended with to really tell the story properly. But in the end, in many ways, Dala was the glue that held her people together - the ‘soft’ power behind the iron fisted Runeshaman. Like the rest of us, she had her flaws, but perhaps was more comfortable with that than she should have been.
RN: Oh dear, let me try to avoid spoilers. Let’s just say a certain character dies much earlier than I anticipated, forcing me to pants like I’ve never pantsed before, until sanity returned. If any reader predicts this twist before they arrive, I salute you.
Q] We never quite get any idea as to who was Ruka’s father? Infact in the entire series, it never gets mentioned much. With the Ascomi culture being a matriarchal one, this isn’t surprising but I was wondering if Ruka ever thought about it?
RN: Poor Brand. He deserves his own story, in a way, but you’re right, he doesn’t get much thought or attention. Indeed Ruka thinks of him with something approaching contempt - as a man who didn’t have the strength to overcome his culture and circumstances. This is quite callous, and not very fair. But many sons judge their fathers harshly, particularly those who are not pleased with the hand life dealt them.
Q] Turns out Bukayag wasn’t just a figment of Ruka’s imagination as the previous two books, we weren’t really clear about it. With this ending, we still don’t quite realize what exactly Bukayag is? Would you be able to talk about Bukayag and what he is?
RN: What indeed. I think we all recognize our thoughts and actions are not entirely in our control. Whether it’s Freud’s ‘unconscious’, or (perhaps more pertinently), the Jungian ‘shadow’, there are forces working on our psyche that are not very civilized, and often not good for us. I suspect the more dangerous the man, the more dangerous the shadow. And Ruka is a very dangerous man.
Q] Arun/Eka is such an enigmatic character and we never quite get the hang of how and where he gets his powers from? Can you talk a bit about what drives him and about his origins?
RN: What drives Arun are the same human impulses that drive us all - ambition, greed, loyalty, lust, fear, meaning, etc. It’s fair to say the Batonian monks (whom Arun comes from) are a somewhat mysterious group. Ultimately, they are the creation of Ando - a being of tremendous power. How is Ando so powerful? Well, that’s one of those questions, like ‘why does the universe exist?’ Perhaps there is an answer, but it seems unanswerable by us mere mortals.
Q] My favourite character is Dala and she gets quite some exciting action in this final book especially after her smaller role in Kings Of Ash. As you had mentioned that originally she had a much miniscule role. What would you say about her character arc and her role in this trilogy?
RN: That damn Dala. At first I just wanted an important female POV in the land of ash. The matriarchy and several aspects of feminine power in such a society needed to be contended with to really tell the story properly. But in the end, in many ways, Dala was the glue that held her people together - the ‘soft’ power behind the iron fisted Runeshaman. Like the rest of us, she had her flaws, but perhaps was more comfortable with that than she should have been.
Q] Can you please explain Ruka’s Grove mechanics to us?
RN: Some things are better left to imagination…
Q] Kings Of Ash begins in the past and follows two split timelines. Some readers found it confusing, especially at the beginning of the book. Now, Ruka's intricate and integral backstory deserved it, but how difficult was it to pull it off? Would you change anything?
RN: A fine question. I’m not sure I would change anything, or maybe more accurately, I’m not sure how I’d do it. The series could have been completely done chronologically, for example, with Ruka and Farahi’s stories going first, until Kale’s began. But it would have changed how we experienced the world and especially the conflict - and in a word, it might have been a little dull.
Q] Now that the series has wrapped, can you talk about how it conformed to your earliest plans? Did anything about the ending surprise you?
RN: As it concerns endings, I am definitely a plotter. I knew vaguely how the series would end before I’d finished book 1. There were all kinds of little details and character developments and so forth, but I knew how the big battles would go. The depth of material in the epilogue definitely surprised me, and the possibilities thereafter…
Q] I’m curious about the sources—fantasy books or otherwise—that informed the series in its conception and in the writing. Can you point to anything that helped you get a handle on particular aspects of the plot/world-building/etc.?
RN: The list is legion and too vast to cover here. For world-building, history is always my primary source, and the cultures in Ash and Sand are a mix and match of real kingdoms, tribes, and empires from Scandinavia to Indonesia. In terms of literary influences, if you were to suggest you detected notes of James Clavell’s Shogun, Thomas Harris’ Silence of the Lambs, and some of the epic works of David Gemmell, I’m sure I’d be pleased to agree.
Q] Between the last chapter and the epilogue, there’s quite a lot of time jump. While for the book’s purpose, it worked perfectly. Can you reveal what happened and what your plans are for the future?
RN: This came as something of a surprise to me, but it turns out the Ash and Sand universe has a lot more potential. I’ll be writing at least one book to cover that time-jump. And let’s just say, there’s more to come for fans of the series.
RN: Some things are better left to imagination…
Q] Kings Of Ash begins in the past and follows two split timelines. Some readers found it confusing, especially at the beginning of the book. Now, Ruka's intricate and integral backstory deserved it, but how difficult was it to pull it off? Would you change anything?
RN: A fine question. I’m not sure I would change anything, or maybe more accurately, I’m not sure how I’d do it. The series could have been completely done chronologically, for example, with Ruka and Farahi’s stories going first, until Kale’s began. But it would have changed how we experienced the world and especially the conflict - and in a word, it might have been a little dull.
Q] Now that the series has wrapped, can you talk about how it conformed to your earliest plans? Did anything about the ending surprise you?
RN: As it concerns endings, I am definitely a plotter. I knew vaguely how the series would end before I’d finished book 1. There were all kinds of little details and character developments and so forth, but I knew how the big battles would go. The depth of material in the epilogue definitely surprised me, and the possibilities thereafter…
Q] I’m curious about the sources—fantasy books or otherwise—that informed the series in its conception and in the writing. Can you point to anything that helped you get a handle on particular aspects of the plot/world-building/etc.?
RN: The list is legion and too vast to cover here. For world-building, history is always my primary source, and the cultures in Ash and Sand are a mix and match of real kingdoms, tribes, and empires from Scandinavia to Indonesia. In terms of literary influences, if you were to suggest you detected notes of James Clavell’s Shogun, Thomas Harris’ Silence of the Lambs, and some of the epic works of David Gemmell, I’m sure I’d be pleased to agree.
Q] Between the last chapter and the epilogue, there’s quite a lot of time jump. While for the book’s purpose, it worked perfectly. Can you reveal what happened and what your plans are for the future?
RN: This came as something of a surprise to me, but it turns out the Ash and Sand universe has a lot more potential. I’ll be writing at least one book to cover that time-jump. And let’s just say, there’s more to come for fans of the series.
Q] The cover for Kings Of Heaven is my favourite of the trilogy. The colour palette is so striking and is just perfect for the plot within. Which cover is your favourite among the three & why?
RN: It’s my favorite, too. The artist (Derek Murphy) really outdid himself. I think the three covers side by side look great, I need to make posters or something.
Q] You have given us a prequel novella omnibus with The God King’s Legacy. What are your plans for the God King chronicles, when can readers expect to read the first book?
RN: There’s an entire trilogy imagined in the God King universe! Fans of the Ash and Sand series will find these books are in fact connected, though how is something they’ll have to read about when the time comes. I think it’s fair to say the first God King novel could arrive at the end of 2021.
Q] Now that you have finished this massively complex undertaking. What are you writing currently? What will be your next release?
RN: I’ll be finishing a spin-off book from the Ash and Sand series next, as yet untitled, and spoilery by its very existence so I’ll leave it at that. Along with another couple writers I’m also working on a ‘gamebook’ - sort of a collection of choose-your-own-adventure stories. It’s called ‘The Living Library’ and you can find it on the google or apple stores on your phone or tablet. Yeah, writers make apps now. Welcome to 2020.
Q] Thank you very much for your time and for answering our questions. Any parting thoughts for your fans and what they can look forward to with Kings Of Heaven?
RN: I’m very pleased with Kings Of Heaven. Ruka has been haunting my mind for six years, telling me to run more, edit faster, and mostly just to ‘get out of bed and be useful, you lazy little thing.’ He’s a little quieter now. I like to think its approval. Thank you very much for the support, dear readers, and I hope you enjoy the finale.
RN: It’s my favorite, too. The artist (Derek Murphy) really outdid himself. I think the three covers side by side look great, I need to make posters or something.
Q] You have given us a prequel novella omnibus with The God King’s Legacy. What are your plans for the God King chronicles, when can readers expect to read the first book?
RN: There’s an entire trilogy imagined in the God King universe! Fans of the Ash and Sand series will find these books are in fact connected, though how is something they’ll have to read about when the time comes. I think it’s fair to say the first God King novel could arrive at the end of 2021.
Q] Now that you have finished this massively complex undertaking. What are you writing currently? What will be your next release?
RN: I’ll be finishing a spin-off book from the Ash and Sand series next, as yet untitled, and spoilery by its very existence so I’ll leave it at that. Along with another couple writers I’m also working on a ‘gamebook’ - sort of a collection of choose-your-own-adventure stories. It’s called ‘The Living Library’ and you can find it on the google or apple stores on your phone or tablet. Yeah, writers make apps now. Welcome to 2020.
Q] Thank you very much for your time and for answering our questions. Any parting thoughts for your fans and what they can look forward to with Kings Of Heaven?
RN: I’m very pleased with Kings Of Heaven. Ruka has been haunting my mind for six years, telling me to run more, edit faster, and mostly just to ‘get out of bed and be useful, you lazy little thing.’ He’s a little quieter now. I like to think its approval. Thank you very much for the support, dear readers, and I hope you enjoy the finale.
Official Author Website
Pre-order Kings Of Heaven over HERE
Read Fantasy Book Critic's review of Kings Of Paradise
Read Fantasy Book Critic's review of Kings Of Ash
Read Fantasy Book Critic's review of The God King's Legacy
Read Fantasy Book Critic Interview with Richard Nell
Read Fantasy Book Critic's The God King's Legacy Cover Reveal Q&A with Richard Nell
OFFICIAL AUTHOR INFORMATION: Richard Nell concerned family and friends by quitting his real job in 2014 to 'write full-time'. He is a Canadian author of fantasy, living in one of the flattest, coldest places on earth with his begrudging wife, who makes sure he eats. His books mix his love of history and ideas with the epic glory of fantasy, because reality could use some sprucing up.
OFFICIAL BOOK BLURB: In the final book of the Ash and Sand trilogy, Ruka, son of Beyla, faces the emperor of the world, yet even victory may not save his people…
With the death of his ally, Farahi Alaku, Ruka ‘Godtongue’ is alone. Or not exactly… The island prince Kale Alaku now haunts his mind, rattling within his once peaceful ‘Grove’, promising revenge and growing every moment in power. Meanwhile, the Pyu isles are in chaos; the coastal kingdom of the Tong is still Ruka’s enemy, and every day that passes brings the empire closer to destroying his dream of a new world for his people.
Once again, the son of Beyla will need the strength of his dark twin, Bukayag. Perhaps together they can unite three peoples, gather an army of ash, and defend or destroy their way to peace. But in the end, there can be only one king of heaven…
FORMAT/INFO: Kings Of Heaven is 411 pages long divided over forty-three chapters with a prologue & an epilogue. Narration is in the third person omniscient view via Ruka, Kale, Osco, Dala & a few other characters. This is the last volume of the Ash and Sand trilogy.
The book will be self-published by the author on September 1, 2020 and it's available as an e-book and paperback. Cover art and design is provided by Derek Murphy.
OVERVIEW/ANALYSIS: Kings Of Heaven is the long awaited ending to the Ash And Sand trilogy. It’s a book which I was itching to read from when I finished Kings Of Ash in 2019. The trilogy ending was very unusual for a couple of reasons as the series’ genre had changed from low to epic fantasy in the last volume and also the proverbial Kane vs Abel storyline had come to its conclusion in the climax of Kings Of Ash. I was curious to see what the hell the author would do with this volume considering the monumental changes he had enacted in the preceding title.
For one, this book is mightily different than its predecessors by the fact that there are no dual timelines within it. It entirely takes place in a singular timepoint which is the aftermath of the climax of Kings Of Ash. Things are upended in the lands of the Ascom as well as the Pyu islands and there’s an imminent threat of an invasion from the northern continent. Ruka finds himself in a big bind as his plans with Farahi are now in tatters due to Kale’s actions. However the wheels of change are already set and there’s no going back. He’s got to try to prepare for the northern continent invasion as well as the inhabitant in his mental grove who’s causing him headaches. Overall this story gets as epic as possible.
Let’s talk about why this story is so spectacular. The plot is completely streamlined to where we as the readers are taken for a thrilling ride beginning from chapter one leading all the way until the fantastic epilogue. This book similarly to Kings Of Ash is all about Ruka however in this book we get a brand new POV character as well as a return of another POV character from book 1. My favourite character Dala also returns and gets a bigger role than the previous book and she gets another chance to show her pragmatic intelligence. We get a look into the horse tribes’ culture in the lands of the Ascom and that was an interesting interlude. The characterization is top notch as ever and beginning with Ruka, who has been working his body and mind to utter exhaustion with his plan to help his people escape the land of Ash for a warmer climate and more habitable lands up north. There’s also Kale who’s present in Ruka’s mental grove and has now slowly started talking back. This leads to some fun conversations between a killer and his victim and some very interesting thoughts about the nature of the Grove, its place in reality and how it interacts with the actual world. Kale is a more subdued persona but he still has his magic and his rage is ever present.
We get a brilliant new POV from Osco the mesanite who is back in his home city and is now shanghaied into helping the Naranian emperor lead his conquest towards Tong and the rest of the island nations. We are reacquainted with Egil who as we know has become a family man but yet hasn’t lost his thirst for adventure. While there are others who don’t get a POV but are thrilling to read, this list begins with Kikay who’s dangerous more than ever as now she’s lost Farahi’s calming guidance. There’s also Tane who finds himself atop the Alaku throne and has to rely on his supposed enemies to save him. There’s princess Lani who has the most to lose as she’s already lost her love and now finds her homeland in dire danger. There’s also Arun, deadly and ever in the mix of events. All of these folks and several others find themselves in the midst of a titanic struggle. The characterization singlehandedly elevates this (and the previous) volumes from its simple premise into something brilliant.
Pre-order Kings Of Heaven over HERE
Read Fantasy Book Critic's review of Kings Of Paradise
Read Fantasy Book Critic's review of Kings Of Ash
Read Fantasy Book Critic's review of The God King's Legacy
Read Fantasy Book Critic Interview with Richard Nell
Read Fantasy Book Critic's The God King's Legacy Cover Reveal Q&A with Richard Nell
OFFICIAL AUTHOR INFORMATION: Richard Nell concerned family and friends by quitting his real job in 2014 to 'write full-time'. He is a Canadian author of fantasy, living in one of the flattest, coldest places on earth with his begrudging wife, who makes sure he eats. His books mix his love of history and ideas with the epic glory of fantasy, because reality could use some sprucing up.
OFFICIAL BOOK BLURB: In the final book of the Ash and Sand trilogy, Ruka, son of Beyla, faces the emperor of the world, yet even victory may not save his people…
With the death of his ally, Farahi Alaku, Ruka ‘Godtongue’ is alone. Or not exactly… The island prince Kale Alaku now haunts his mind, rattling within his once peaceful ‘Grove’, promising revenge and growing every moment in power. Meanwhile, the Pyu isles are in chaos; the coastal kingdom of the Tong is still Ruka’s enemy, and every day that passes brings the empire closer to destroying his dream of a new world for his people.
Once again, the son of Beyla will need the strength of his dark twin, Bukayag. Perhaps together they can unite three peoples, gather an army of ash, and defend or destroy their way to peace. But in the end, there can be only one king of heaven…
FORMAT/INFO: Kings Of Heaven is 411 pages long divided over forty-three chapters with a prologue & an epilogue. Narration is in the third person omniscient view via Ruka, Kale, Osco, Dala & a few other characters. This is the last volume of the Ash and Sand trilogy.
The book will be self-published by the author on September 1, 2020 and it's available as an e-book and paperback. Cover art and design is provided by Derek Murphy.
OVERVIEW/ANALYSIS: Kings Of Heaven is the long awaited ending to the Ash And Sand trilogy. It’s a book which I was itching to read from when I finished Kings Of Ash in 2019. The trilogy ending was very unusual for a couple of reasons as the series’ genre had changed from low to epic fantasy in the last volume and also the proverbial Kane vs Abel storyline had come to its conclusion in the climax of Kings Of Ash. I was curious to see what the hell the author would do with this volume considering the monumental changes he had enacted in the preceding title.
For one, this book is mightily different than its predecessors by the fact that there are no dual timelines within it. It entirely takes place in a singular timepoint which is the aftermath of the climax of Kings Of Ash. Things are upended in the lands of the Ascom as well as the Pyu islands and there’s an imminent threat of an invasion from the northern continent. Ruka finds himself in a big bind as his plans with Farahi are now in tatters due to Kale’s actions. However the wheels of change are already set and there’s no going back. He’s got to try to prepare for the northern continent invasion as well as the inhabitant in his mental grove who’s causing him headaches. Overall this story gets as epic as possible.
Let’s talk about why this story is so spectacular. The plot is completely streamlined to where we as the readers are taken for a thrilling ride beginning from chapter one leading all the way until the fantastic epilogue. This book similarly to Kings Of Ash is all about Ruka however in this book we get a brand new POV character as well as a return of another POV character from book 1. My favourite character Dala also returns and gets a bigger role than the previous book and she gets another chance to show her pragmatic intelligence. We get a look into the horse tribes’ culture in the lands of the Ascom and that was an interesting interlude. The characterization is top notch as ever and beginning with Ruka, who has been working his body and mind to utter exhaustion with his plan to help his people escape the land of Ash for a warmer climate and more habitable lands up north. There’s also Kale who’s present in Ruka’s mental grove and has now slowly started talking back. This leads to some fun conversations between a killer and his victim and some very interesting thoughts about the nature of the Grove, its place in reality and how it interacts with the actual world. Kale is a more subdued persona but he still has his magic and his rage is ever present.
We get a brilliant new POV from Osco the mesanite who is back in his home city and is now shanghaied into helping the Naranian emperor lead his conquest towards Tong and the rest of the island nations. We are reacquainted with Egil who as we know has become a family man but yet hasn’t lost his thirst for adventure. While there are others who don’t get a POV but are thrilling to read, this list begins with Kikay who’s dangerous more than ever as now she’s lost Farahi’s calming guidance. There’s also Tane who finds himself atop the Alaku throne and has to rely on his supposed enemies to save him. There’s princess Lani who has the most to lose as she’s already lost her love and now finds her homeland in dire danger. There’s also Arun, deadly and ever in the mix of events. All of these folks and several others find themselves in the midst of a titanic struggle. The characterization singlehandedly elevates this (and the previous) volumes from its simple premise into something brilliant.
The book has a quiet buildup to a siege storyline and I love sieges. Richard Nell really does his best to build up an effective first climax with this plot line and we get to see the conflict from both sides due to the dual POVs utilized. I loved this aspect and believe me the siege gets very, very brutal but at the same time, it moves along quickly and there’s a fabulous end to it. I must highlight that here the author does something even cooler with Ruka’s powers and while it hasn’t been done before, the event will send a chill up anyone’s spine. Also that moment needs a soundtrack like this one.
This trilogy has had an interesting genre shift in terms of magic usage. Kings Of Paradise was a low fantasy story and it was in Kings Of Ash that the magic system really got a boost and the trilogy genre kicked into the “epic” gear with both Ruka and Kale. In this book, there’s some wild (and I mean WILD) moments that will have you saying WTF in the best way possible as well as some truly chilling ones. The author really does build Ruka up to be a superman of sorts but then we get a look into things from his perspective and then those same events don’t seem so superhuman.
The pace of the book is very streamlined and beginning with a quiet sort, the plot’s threads slowly start twisting into an explosive tapestry that come together brilliantly towards the end. This book is also the smallest of the entire trilogy and while that’s definitely going against the epic fantasy norms. I believe it helps with its streamlined pace as the book’s plot is kept on a linear track with everything building up towards its dual climaxes.
What I love ultimately about this trilogy is that while the nature of the world is definitely dark (maybe grimdark to some). The resolution is always about hope. Ruka’s hope towards solving all the life’s mysteries, saving his people and finally realizing that his birth isn’t a mistake. Dala’s hope for making sure that her people aren’t doomed to forever keep fighting and killing each other over small slights. Kale’s hope for keeping his remaining family safe and maybe even proving that he was a good person after all. Osco’s hope about saving his city state and his family from Naranian ambition. Kikay’s hope for saving the Alakus and finally becoming the savior she was meant to be. Egil’s hope for finally having a sound ending to his life and making sure his family are saved. These and many more of such hopes are tied along. Ultimately I think the author wanted to showcase that even when things are dark, it doesn’t mean that people should stop striving to improve their lot. Ultimately it’s about saving the Ascomi people from environmental doom and the Pyu islanders from imperial conquest. That has been the biggest drive for Ruka and Farahi and this book really pays off on those angles.
The series has never been much for humour except the gallows kind and in this book we get some gems here and there. One particular instance is about what Osco does to neutralize a possible future threat from Ruka and that bit was just hilarious to read. Lastly I do want to highlight the epilogue which is from a new character and I have to highlight uttermost Gemmellian in its scope. What I mean by that is the author does his best to tickle our heart strings as he shows what happens when the final killer arrives and does what’s bound to happen. Lastly the jerk of an author had the temerity to come up with an epitaph that rivals David Gemmell’s most heart-rending scene (cough*Jaime Graymuch*cough) from Ravenheart. After reading over 570K worth of words, he manages to put in a final blow to our hearts and open up our tear ducts effortlessly. He does this by humanizing Ruka/Bukayag, a complex monster-cum-savant who does horrible things and grand magic for the eventual goal of saving a people.
The only thing that didn’t quite pan out to my expectations was a proper explanation about the magic system namely the Nishad and the others. What was Ruka’s grove and who/what exactly was Bukayag? These questions don’t get answered neatly but such is life. This is a minor thing and very subjective.
CONCLUSION: Kings Of Heaven is a near perfect epic fantasy conclusion to one of the best self-published fantasy trilogies. Would I go so far to say it’s a classic in the making, yes, I would indeed. I hope Richard Nell keeps enthralling us more with his stories because if this debut trilogy is any indication, this guy is going to end up as one of the genre’s giants by the time he crosses 60.
NOTE: This review bring an end to the Kings Of Heaven blog tour and you can checkout the fabulous reviews at all the previous stops below. My thanks to Charles, Lynn, Petrik & Adam for their time, enthusiasm and commitment:
KOH blog tour day 1 = Adam at Fantasy Book Review
KOH blog tour day 2 = Petrik at Novel Notions
KOH blog tour day 3 = Lynn at Grimmedian
KOH blog tour day 4 = Charles at Booknest
KOH blog tour day 5 = FBC review
This trilogy has had an interesting genre shift in terms of magic usage. Kings Of Paradise was a low fantasy story and it was in Kings Of Ash that the magic system really got a boost and the trilogy genre kicked into the “epic” gear with both Ruka and Kale. In this book, there’s some wild (and I mean WILD) moments that will have you saying WTF in the best way possible as well as some truly chilling ones. The author really does build Ruka up to be a superman of sorts but then we get a look into things from his perspective and then those same events don’t seem so superhuman.
The pace of the book is very streamlined and beginning with a quiet sort, the plot’s threads slowly start twisting into an explosive tapestry that come together brilliantly towards the end. This book is also the smallest of the entire trilogy and while that’s definitely going against the epic fantasy norms. I believe it helps with its streamlined pace as the book’s plot is kept on a linear track with everything building up towards its dual climaxes.
What I love ultimately about this trilogy is that while the nature of the world is definitely dark (maybe grimdark to some). The resolution is always about hope. Ruka’s hope towards solving all the life’s mysteries, saving his people and finally realizing that his birth isn’t a mistake. Dala’s hope for making sure that her people aren’t doomed to forever keep fighting and killing each other over small slights. Kale’s hope for keeping his remaining family safe and maybe even proving that he was a good person after all. Osco’s hope about saving his city state and his family from Naranian ambition. Kikay’s hope for saving the Alakus and finally becoming the savior she was meant to be. Egil’s hope for finally having a sound ending to his life and making sure his family are saved. These and many more of such hopes are tied along. Ultimately I think the author wanted to showcase that even when things are dark, it doesn’t mean that people should stop striving to improve their lot. Ultimately it’s about saving the Ascomi people from environmental doom and the Pyu islanders from imperial conquest. That has been the biggest drive for Ruka and Farahi and this book really pays off on those angles.
The series has never been much for humour except the gallows kind and in this book we get some gems here and there. One particular instance is about what Osco does to neutralize a possible future threat from Ruka and that bit was just hilarious to read. Lastly I do want to highlight the epilogue which is from a new character and I have to highlight uttermost Gemmellian in its scope. What I mean by that is the author does his best to tickle our heart strings as he shows what happens when the final killer arrives and does what’s bound to happen. Lastly the jerk of an author had the temerity to come up with an epitaph that rivals David Gemmell’s most heart-rending scene (cough*Jaime Graymuch*cough) from Ravenheart. After reading over 570K worth of words, he manages to put in a final blow to our hearts and open up our tear ducts effortlessly. He does this by humanizing Ruka/Bukayag, a complex monster-cum-savant who does horrible things and grand magic for the eventual goal of saving a people.
The only thing that didn’t quite pan out to my expectations was a proper explanation about the magic system namely the Nishad and the others. What was Ruka’s grove and who/what exactly was Bukayag? These questions don’t get answered neatly but such is life. This is a minor thing and very subjective.
CONCLUSION: Kings Of Heaven is a near perfect epic fantasy conclusion to one of the best self-published fantasy trilogies. Would I go so far to say it’s a classic in the making, yes, I would indeed. I hope Richard Nell keeps enthralling us more with his stories because if this debut trilogy is any indication, this guy is going to end up as one of the genre’s giants by the time he crosses 60.
NOTE: This review bring an end to the Kings Of Heaven blog tour and you can checkout the fabulous reviews at all the previous stops below. My thanks to Charles, Lynn, Petrik & Adam for their time, enthusiasm and commitment:
KOH blog tour day 1 = Adam at Fantasy Book Review
KOH blog tour day 2 = Petrik at Novel Notions
KOH blog tour day 3 = Lynn at Grimmedian
KOH blog tour day 4 = Charles at Booknest
KOH blog tour day 5 = FBC review
Official Author Website
Order I, EXILE over HERE
The night began with us squelching up a covered aqueduct and didn’t improve from there. “I’ll bet my lucky compass that you’re wrong,” I whispered back to my partner. “We’ll nab this scroll without a hitch. The city clerics won’t know what hit them.”
“Sorry to break it to you, Em, but you owe me that compass,” said Niellan. Compared to the eunuch’s high-pitched voice, mine sounded more fitting on a boy than a woman in her thirties.
His steps splashed softly under the weight of his lean frame as he grumbled, “You know what they say about wizards and their contracts.”
Damn right I did. Excellent pay, but always a catch. On one hand, Osmathos offered enough coin to rebuild my family’s manor from the ashes. The other hand, well, there had to be a reason why the storied spellbinder couldn’t get this scroll himself. Part of me hoped he’d used his wizardly whatchamacallit to foresee the Gilded Hands as his answer. Common sense said we were his last resort. It didn’t help that Niel raised objections every step of the way.
“Admit it, Emelith.”
He knew better than to use my full name. Gray water swirled around my boots as I dealt a smirk behind my headwrap. “Just because a fireball singed off your eyebrows on the last job doesn’t mean all magi have it out for you.”
Whereas my Fenlish friend was short enough to stand straight in this hellhole, my thighs burned from bending double for so long. The mound of crushed hauntroot on his palm bloomed bright green upon his round and dusky features. He used it to mark our progress for a quick getaway. Very soon, the city clerics would trigger a pair of floodgates as part of their daily ritual. I shuddered to imagine getting trapped in this maze of pipes when the Daybreak Gong went off. Given the choice, I’d take a nice backstreet stabbing over drowning to death hands down.
Farther along the aqueduct, the upper halfpipe fell back and exposed us to the city.
The thing about Faral-Muzafti is that it’s nestled in the crater of a dormant volcano. The districts rise from the central hotspring like terraced benches to an arena. Their shops, shrines, and dwellings are built with the same rose-and-butter sandstone that girdle the caldera in stratified layers. And on the highest ridge ahead of us sat Muzafti’s crown jewel. The city temple conquered the skyline in case anyone forgot about the priesthood in charge. Or should I say the ringleaders...no? Oh, alright.
Crouching low, we hurried into the cistern at the end of the aqueduct. It stood dry about thirty feet below the triangular floodgates. Higher up loomed the temple sanctum, its brass dome gleaming bright as a third moon. Columned wings hugged both sides of the ridge as if to embrace the city. That, and to swat at busy bees.
I buzzed over to Niel’s side and gestured in the padspeech of our guild. It’s all in the fingertips, padspeech. Subtract the clickers from castanets and there you have it. “The scroll is on the right wing.”
I’d learned as much thanks to yesterday’s stakeout. From dawn ‘till dusk, theologians in yellow robes bustled past the seashell-engraved doors at the end of that wing.
“Got it,” he padspoke before whipping out his crossbow. His fingers skimmed the bandolier strapped over his jerkin. Twin rows of piercing bodkins and blunted broadheads shone silver by the sickle moons. The lowest bolt to the left ended in a grapnel hook with enough rope to wrangle a tyrannosaur.
“Cover those bolts,” I padspoke in his face so he had to stop cranking the crossbow. “Starshine.”
After buttoning his overcoat, twinkletoes pulled his hood over his frown. He hated when I bossed him around like that, but after eight years of teamwork you’d think he’d learn.
What Niel lacked in mindfulness he redeemed himself in marksmanship. Within heartbeats he loaded the hookbolt into its channel, locked onto his target, and squeezed off the shot.
A tail of rope sketched the hook’s flight skyward. The prongs latched onto a low banister along the stone parapet.
In deference to one of his copious superstitions, Niel tugged the rope five times rapidly. Fenlander folklore must’ve been on our side, since he nodded in approval before pulling out a vial of yellow powder from his breast pocket. He sprinkled the contents onto his gloves and then tossed it to me underhand.
The stink of putrid eggs constricted my throat as soon as I caught the glass. Whatever Niel used for traction these days wasn’t worth my pair of doeskins. They went into my knapsack before I powdered my fingers and led the ascent.
The desert breeze blew fiercer with every upward inch. My eyes brimmed with tears but I dared not wipe them, keeping hands steady and feet on the walls at all times.
Once topside, I unbuttoned my headwrap to drag in lungfuls of crisp night air. Then I lowered a chalky hand to Niel and hoisted him next to me.
We reclined against the banister while he coiled the rope and I fished a wool blanket from my knapsack. I’d planned to use the fabric to bundle our mark, but Niel’s shivering body needed it more than the scroll would.
“Take this,” I padspoke, resisting the urge to reprimand him again.
He hesitated a moment before accepting the blanket and draping its brown folds across his shoulders. Hopefully next time he’d remember that deserts turn hot and cold in equal measure. Especially out here in the Dryscapes, where scars of the apocalypse remain everywhere.
“Remember,” I padspoke, “if you see trouble, drop the birdcall before you shoot.”
Not that I didn’t enjoy brawling sometimes. But when filching scripture from a city full of zealots, I’d sooner hold off my bet than let the knucklebones fly.
The shuffle of steps from the level below sped up my heartbeat. I pressed myself flat on the edge of the roof, one cheek against the night-chilled stone. From my belt I unclipped that lucky compass of mine and—not without cupping the rim from moonlight—tilted it down to reflect the hall of open-air columns.
Patrolling the colonnade was a shirtless monk in the leather kilt of his order. The hydra-headed mace at his hip shone crimson by the torch he clutched for warmth. One wrong move with him and I risked gaining a few extra piercings.
Only after he marched around the bend did I return to Niel. Together we rolled our sleeves back to the matching brands on our forearms. EI: 2148 & EI: 2120. Mementos from our stints in the clink. We pressed them together in our customary handclasp before the tough part of a job.
Leaving Niel to keep watch, I swung from the roof and somersaulted into the colonnade. From there I prowled by rolling my soles heel to toe, heel to toe, more gliding than walking down the hall. At the archive’s double doors I pulled a set of picks from behind my ear and sprang the lock in less time than a round of Jester’s Spades.
I blinked through the gloom to see blocky corners of shelves in most of the chamber. And crammed on these shelves was a shitload of scrolls.
All that wizened parchment smelled like my family’s library from before the fire. I’d spent some of my happiest days of girlhood reading tales of good versus evil. The following years taught me that the line between the two isn’t so distinct. Otherwise how could I live with myself?
Here and there I found a few of those covered things, books they’re called, from the High North. All bound in dyed leather, they’d fly off the stalls at the Jade Emporium. Except only an amateur would consider stealing them. I was a first-rate professional—a Gilded Hand, damnit—and I’d never let a bauble sway me from my contract.
One by one, I angled the wooden tags of the top row up to the moonlight. Mostly religious tracts and Antediluvian schematics, but no sign of the scroll itself. A sigh passed my lips as I glanced at the countless other rows. I could kill a week browsing these shelves without any luck.
Osmathos had claimed in his letter that the priesthood attached a scriptural significance to the scroll in question. If I was a cleric (Foregods forbid) where would I stash it away?
Somewhere safe. Accessible, but safe.
I skulked down the aisles into another, smaller chamber. A row of reading alcoves scalloped the far wall, each with a wicker chair and polished sandstone desk.
The furthest chair must’ve belonged to superiors because of the pillows. Well, they resembled pillows until they rustled around.
The snick of flint on steel preceded a blinding burst of lamplight. I squinted to see a portly graybeard shifting in his seat. Probably a theologian from those saffron-yellow robes. He closed the square lantern’s cage with one hand and used the other to rub the sleep from his eyes.
Soundlessly, I slid Vixen's Tusk from my belt and crept around the edge of light. The old goat didn’t know what hit him until I pressed the dagger to his neck, free hand over his mouth. My voice sliced through the stillness like steel across gauze.
“You speak Merchant’s Cant?”
He nodded vigorously, whiskers bristling against my palm.
“Then listen up. I’m gonna remove my hand. Make a peep and I’ll splatter these scrolls with your blood.”
Only bluffing. In my experience, promising harm succeeds almost as well as actually inflicting it.
The theologian kept quiet as I wiped the saliva off on the mantle of his robes. Vixen's Tusk still kissed his neck so he’d be a fool to turn around.
“Tell me where to find the scripture,” I hissed.
“Sirella passed it in the room behind us.” Traces of his accent harshened most of the consonants.
I shook his shoulder fiercely enough to rattle out a whimper. “Anyone ever tell you that you’d make a lousy gambler? There’s another chamber.” Or had damn well better be. “One hidden from sirellas like yours truly.”
Sweat dripped off his jowls to smudge the letters of an unfurled scroll. “How to say...mosock. Mosock of the waterfall in the archives. Press the golden tile.”
“Much obliged. Now get up. And don’t forget the lantern.”
“I answered sirella’s questions. What more could she want?”
“Well, y’know how the Khazals include poison testers at banquets? Think of yourself as a trap tester.” I yanked his shoulder again. “Upsy-daisy.”
He relented with a weak moan. I steered him to said mosock on the other end of the archive. Chips of blue lapis on the walls represented a waterfall. The gemstones between them made the rapids sparkle as if from the sun. I gestured at the golden tessera that was part of an outcrop near the bottom.
“Go on.” I frowned at him like this was his idea.
He pressed the tessera with trembling hands. The mosaic rolled back to reveal a flight of shallow steps that spiraled into darkness.
“Now we’re talking,” I said over a sigh of relief. “How do you close it?”
“The same tile, sirella.”
Which meant he could lock me inside if I let him slip away. After prying the lantern from his fingers, I snapped a tube off my belt and uncorked it with my thumb. Anger management, brewed and labeled by Niel.
“By the way, does this smell like shuteye to you?”
The fumes worked like a charm and knocked him out cold. I dragged his body behind the mosaic and brought the lantern downstairs.
The steps led to a hallway of bricks intended to protect scrolls from moisture. At the far end stood a cabinet carved from the type of dark-grained timber found in the rainforests south of the Khazalate. Material of that quality must’ve cost the clerics plenty.
To be safe, I removed a throwing blade from my belt and sent it skittering across the floor. No traps yet.
I recovered the blade midway down the hall, tiptoeing along the grooves in case of pressure-plated bricks. Once across, I inched open the cabinet doors, careful not to snap any cords that might set off an alarm.
The upper shelf held more High Northern books with their spines aswirl in silver and gold. A dozen scrolls were slotted in lattice cradles underneath those, some with knobs of ivory and others inside metal canisters. I unrolled a few until finding my mark.
A cartouche framed its title in Latter Diluvian. Though I couldn’t read a word of the blocky letters, the image of hands clasped in prayer matched Osmathos’s description down to the faint red pigment.
The Exegesis of Marthelios.
Shortly before the flood that had wiped out most of humanity, Marthelios the Starsworn had encoded his arcane secrets to read as a religious text to the untrained eye. Perhaps that was how the Exegesis had found its way into a city governed by priests. If only they knew they’d been interpreting it wrong.
No time to dwell on that. I tucked the scroll into my knapsack and turned around…
...to find I had company. Further down the hall, at the foot of the stairs, the monk from earlier came charging in. A toss of my throwing knife nicked his bicep, but it might as well have been a sucklebug by how he kept barreling closer.
The damn torchlight threw off my aim for the next two throws. I was about to fling the last one when the mace whooshed in for my head. The blow whipped air in my face as I leapt backward. Another dodge caused the iron spikes to hit the wall instead, drifting dust down from the ceiling.
I dashed through the haze and up the stairs, emptying a pouch of marbles behind me. On the last riser I stumbled like a fool over the theologian’s body and twisted my toe out of place. I gritted my teeth against the dull throbs of pain as I collapsed onto all fours.
The scroll flew out of my knapsack and rolled across the archive floor, coming to rest at the boots of—Niellan! In his hands was the crossbow, cranked and ready to fire.
“Quick, there’s a monk downstairs.” My words rushed out in a breathless undertone. “Get rid of him.”
But Niel had other ideas. He swept up the scroll and I swear a grin crossed his face moments before the two-timing weasel ran for the balcony.
“Traitor!” I would’ve gone after him if not for the tromp of feet from behind. Still disarmed, the monk lunged up the last steps at a speed I couldn’t outrun. Nor did I have time to press the gold tile. Well, at least he’d give me a face to punch.
I hobbled to my feet and backed into the archives. Then I dropped into a Thricepaw stance taught by the Gilded Hands: right side forward, shoulders squared, Vixen's Tusk flipped in a pommeling position.
Strike after strike we clashed across the archives, my big toe throbbing hot as my hatred toward Niellan. Some say nothing good ever results from anger, and that may be true for them. Me? I thrived on the stuff. It got me up in the morning, drove me to reclaim my family’s wealth, and kept me alive that night in Faral-Muzafti.
Our feet scuffled out of the archives and into the colonnade overlooking the city. Only then did the earthshaking clash of the Daybreak Gong boom throughout the halls.
“No!” My voice was drowned out by the rumble of water underfoot. I could only hope the cascade would flush out Niellan like the vermin he was.
Mist from the floodgates curled everywhere, taking me back to the foggy slums of Port Nithalune. All of my force went into the same trick that gained me an edge over sleazeballs back in those days: I punched the monk smack in the balls.
The sorry bastard went down hard, and I endured a cold curl of pity for lashing out on him instead of Niellan. It didn’t last long—never does—before I dragged myself onto the rails and wound up disappointed by the distinct lack of dead Fenlanders in the shallow cistern. It wasn’t like I could follow him either. From this height, a drop in the cistern could snap my spine on impact. And yet I wasn’t exactly spoilt for choices.
Shouts of alarm yanked my focus down the colonnade, where three more monks swerved around the bend.
“Well,” I muttered, “here goes nothing.”
I dove off the ledge.
The water rushed up in a white-frothed whirl.
And the world went blank.
Order I, EXILE over HERE
The night began with us squelching up a covered aqueduct and didn’t improve from there. “I’ll bet my lucky compass that you’re wrong,” I whispered back to my partner. “We’ll nab this scroll without a hitch. The city clerics won’t know what hit them.”
“Sorry to break it to you, Em, but you owe me that compass,” said Niellan. Compared to the eunuch’s high-pitched voice, mine sounded more fitting on a boy than a woman in her thirties.
His steps splashed softly under the weight of his lean frame as he grumbled, “You know what they say about wizards and their contracts.”
Damn right I did. Excellent pay, but always a catch. On one hand, Osmathos offered enough coin to rebuild my family’s manor from the ashes. The other hand, well, there had to be a reason why the storied spellbinder couldn’t get this scroll himself. Part of me hoped he’d used his wizardly whatchamacallit to foresee the Gilded Hands as his answer. Common sense said we were his last resort. It didn’t help that Niel raised objections every step of the way.
“Admit it, Emelith.”
He knew better than to use my full name. Gray water swirled around my boots as I dealt a smirk behind my headwrap. “Just because a fireball singed off your eyebrows on the last job doesn’t mean all magi have it out for you.”
Whereas my Fenlish friend was short enough to stand straight in this hellhole, my thighs burned from bending double for so long. The mound of crushed hauntroot on his palm bloomed bright green upon his round and dusky features. He used it to mark our progress for a quick getaway. Very soon, the city clerics would trigger a pair of floodgates as part of their daily ritual. I shuddered to imagine getting trapped in this maze of pipes when the Daybreak Gong went off. Given the choice, I’d take a nice backstreet stabbing over drowning to death hands down.
Farther along the aqueduct, the upper halfpipe fell back and exposed us to the city.
The thing about Faral-Muzafti is that it’s nestled in the crater of a dormant volcano. The districts rise from the central hotspring like terraced benches to an arena. Their shops, shrines, and dwellings are built with the same rose-and-butter sandstone that girdle the caldera in stratified layers. And on the highest ridge ahead of us sat Muzafti’s crown jewel. The city temple conquered the skyline in case anyone forgot about the priesthood in charge. Or should I say the ringleaders...no? Oh, alright.
Crouching low, we hurried into the cistern at the end of the aqueduct. It stood dry about thirty feet below the triangular floodgates. Higher up loomed the temple sanctum, its brass dome gleaming bright as a third moon. Columned wings hugged both sides of the ridge as if to embrace the city. That, and to swat at busy bees.
I buzzed over to Niel’s side and gestured in the padspeech of our guild. It’s all in the fingertips, padspeech. Subtract the clickers from castanets and there you have it. “The scroll is on the right wing.”
I’d learned as much thanks to yesterday’s stakeout. From dawn ‘till dusk, theologians in yellow robes bustled past the seashell-engraved doors at the end of that wing.
“Got it,” he padspoke before whipping out his crossbow. His fingers skimmed the bandolier strapped over his jerkin. Twin rows of piercing bodkins and blunted broadheads shone silver by the sickle moons. The lowest bolt to the left ended in a grapnel hook with enough rope to wrangle a tyrannosaur.
“Cover those bolts,” I padspoke in his face so he had to stop cranking the crossbow. “Starshine.”
After buttoning his overcoat, twinkletoes pulled his hood over his frown. He hated when I bossed him around like that, but after eight years of teamwork you’d think he’d learn.
What Niel lacked in mindfulness he redeemed himself in marksmanship. Within heartbeats he loaded the hookbolt into its channel, locked onto his target, and squeezed off the shot.
A tail of rope sketched the hook’s flight skyward. The prongs latched onto a low banister along the stone parapet.
In deference to one of his copious superstitions, Niel tugged the rope five times rapidly. Fenlander folklore must’ve been on our side, since he nodded in approval before pulling out a vial of yellow powder from his breast pocket. He sprinkled the contents onto his gloves and then tossed it to me underhand.
The stink of putrid eggs constricted my throat as soon as I caught the glass. Whatever Niel used for traction these days wasn’t worth my pair of doeskins. They went into my knapsack before I powdered my fingers and led the ascent.
The desert breeze blew fiercer with every upward inch. My eyes brimmed with tears but I dared not wipe them, keeping hands steady and feet on the walls at all times.
Once topside, I unbuttoned my headwrap to drag in lungfuls of crisp night air. Then I lowered a chalky hand to Niel and hoisted him next to me.
We reclined against the banister while he coiled the rope and I fished a wool blanket from my knapsack. I’d planned to use the fabric to bundle our mark, but Niel’s shivering body needed it more than the scroll would.
“Take this,” I padspoke, resisting the urge to reprimand him again.
He hesitated a moment before accepting the blanket and draping its brown folds across his shoulders. Hopefully next time he’d remember that deserts turn hot and cold in equal measure. Especially out here in the Dryscapes, where scars of the apocalypse remain everywhere.
“Remember,” I padspoke, “if you see trouble, drop the birdcall before you shoot.”
Not that I didn’t enjoy brawling sometimes. But when filching scripture from a city full of zealots, I’d sooner hold off my bet than let the knucklebones fly.
The shuffle of steps from the level below sped up my heartbeat. I pressed myself flat on the edge of the roof, one cheek against the night-chilled stone. From my belt I unclipped that lucky compass of mine and—not without cupping the rim from moonlight—tilted it down to reflect the hall of open-air columns.
Patrolling the colonnade was a shirtless monk in the leather kilt of his order. The hydra-headed mace at his hip shone crimson by the torch he clutched for warmth. One wrong move with him and I risked gaining a few extra piercings.
Only after he marched around the bend did I return to Niel. Together we rolled our sleeves back to the matching brands on our forearms. EI: 2148 & EI: 2120. Mementos from our stints in the clink. We pressed them together in our customary handclasp before the tough part of a job.
Leaving Niel to keep watch, I swung from the roof and somersaulted into the colonnade. From there I prowled by rolling my soles heel to toe, heel to toe, more gliding than walking down the hall. At the archive’s double doors I pulled a set of picks from behind my ear and sprang the lock in less time than a round of Jester’s Spades.
I blinked through the gloom to see blocky corners of shelves in most of the chamber. And crammed on these shelves was a shitload of scrolls.
All that wizened parchment smelled like my family’s library from before the fire. I’d spent some of my happiest days of girlhood reading tales of good versus evil. The following years taught me that the line between the two isn’t so distinct. Otherwise how could I live with myself?
Here and there I found a few of those covered things, books they’re called, from the High North. All bound in dyed leather, they’d fly off the stalls at the Jade Emporium. Except only an amateur would consider stealing them. I was a first-rate professional—a Gilded Hand, damnit—and I’d never let a bauble sway me from my contract.
One by one, I angled the wooden tags of the top row up to the moonlight. Mostly religious tracts and Antediluvian schematics, but no sign of the scroll itself. A sigh passed my lips as I glanced at the countless other rows. I could kill a week browsing these shelves without any luck.
Osmathos had claimed in his letter that the priesthood attached a scriptural significance to the scroll in question. If I was a cleric (Foregods forbid) where would I stash it away?
Somewhere safe. Accessible, but safe.
I skulked down the aisles into another, smaller chamber. A row of reading alcoves scalloped the far wall, each with a wicker chair and polished sandstone desk.
The furthest chair must’ve belonged to superiors because of the pillows. Well, they resembled pillows until they rustled around.
The snick of flint on steel preceded a blinding burst of lamplight. I squinted to see a portly graybeard shifting in his seat. Probably a theologian from those saffron-yellow robes. He closed the square lantern’s cage with one hand and used the other to rub the sleep from his eyes.
Soundlessly, I slid Vixen's Tusk from my belt and crept around the edge of light. The old goat didn’t know what hit him until I pressed the dagger to his neck, free hand over his mouth. My voice sliced through the stillness like steel across gauze.
“You speak Merchant’s Cant?”
He nodded vigorously, whiskers bristling against my palm.
“Then listen up. I’m gonna remove my hand. Make a peep and I’ll splatter these scrolls with your blood.”
Only bluffing. In my experience, promising harm succeeds almost as well as actually inflicting it.
The theologian kept quiet as I wiped the saliva off on the mantle of his robes. Vixen's Tusk still kissed his neck so he’d be a fool to turn around.
“Tell me where to find the scripture,” I hissed.
“Sirella passed it in the room behind us.” Traces of his accent harshened most of the consonants.
I shook his shoulder fiercely enough to rattle out a whimper. “Anyone ever tell you that you’d make a lousy gambler? There’s another chamber.” Or had damn well better be. “One hidden from sirellas like yours truly.”
Sweat dripped off his jowls to smudge the letters of an unfurled scroll. “How to say...mosock. Mosock of the waterfall in the archives. Press the golden tile.”
“Much obliged. Now get up. And don’t forget the lantern.”
“I answered sirella’s questions. What more could she want?”
“Well, y’know how the Khazals include poison testers at banquets? Think of yourself as a trap tester.” I yanked his shoulder again. “Upsy-daisy.”
He relented with a weak moan. I steered him to said mosock on the other end of the archive. Chips of blue lapis on the walls represented a waterfall. The gemstones between them made the rapids sparkle as if from the sun. I gestured at the golden tessera that was part of an outcrop near the bottom.
“Go on.” I frowned at him like this was his idea.
He pressed the tessera with trembling hands. The mosaic rolled back to reveal a flight of shallow steps that spiraled into darkness.
“Now we’re talking,” I said over a sigh of relief. “How do you close it?”
“The same tile, sirella.”
Which meant he could lock me inside if I let him slip away. After prying the lantern from his fingers, I snapped a tube off my belt and uncorked it with my thumb. Anger management, brewed and labeled by Niel.
“By the way, does this smell like shuteye to you?”
The fumes worked like a charm and knocked him out cold. I dragged his body behind the mosaic and brought the lantern downstairs.
The steps led to a hallway of bricks intended to protect scrolls from moisture. At the far end stood a cabinet carved from the type of dark-grained timber found in the rainforests south of the Khazalate. Material of that quality must’ve cost the clerics plenty.
To be safe, I removed a throwing blade from my belt and sent it skittering across the floor. No traps yet.
I recovered the blade midway down the hall, tiptoeing along the grooves in case of pressure-plated bricks. Once across, I inched open the cabinet doors, careful not to snap any cords that might set off an alarm.
The upper shelf held more High Northern books with their spines aswirl in silver and gold. A dozen scrolls were slotted in lattice cradles underneath those, some with knobs of ivory and others inside metal canisters. I unrolled a few until finding my mark.
A cartouche framed its title in Latter Diluvian. Though I couldn’t read a word of the blocky letters, the image of hands clasped in prayer matched Osmathos’s description down to the faint red pigment.
The Exegesis of Marthelios.
Shortly before the flood that had wiped out most of humanity, Marthelios the Starsworn had encoded his arcane secrets to read as a religious text to the untrained eye. Perhaps that was how the Exegesis had found its way into a city governed by priests. If only they knew they’d been interpreting it wrong.
No time to dwell on that. I tucked the scroll into my knapsack and turned around…
...to find I had company. Further down the hall, at the foot of the stairs, the monk from earlier came charging in. A toss of my throwing knife nicked his bicep, but it might as well have been a sucklebug by how he kept barreling closer.
The damn torchlight threw off my aim for the next two throws. I was about to fling the last one when the mace whooshed in for my head. The blow whipped air in my face as I leapt backward. Another dodge caused the iron spikes to hit the wall instead, drifting dust down from the ceiling.
I dashed through the haze and up the stairs, emptying a pouch of marbles behind me. On the last riser I stumbled like a fool over the theologian’s body and twisted my toe out of place. I gritted my teeth against the dull throbs of pain as I collapsed onto all fours.
The scroll flew out of my knapsack and rolled across the archive floor, coming to rest at the boots of—Niellan! In his hands was the crossbow, cranked and ready to fire.
“Quick, there’s a monk downstairs.” My words rushed out in a breathless undertone. “Get rid of him.”
But Niel had other ideas. He swept up the scroll and I swear a grin crossed his face moments before the two-timing weasel ran for the balcony.
“Traitor!” I would’ve gone after him if not for the tromp of feet from behind. Still disarmed, the monk lunged up the last steps at a speed I couldn’t outrun. Nor did I have time to press the gold tile. Well, at least he’d give me a face to punch.
I hobbled to my feet and backed into the archives. Then I dropped into a Thricepaw stance taught by the Gilded Hands: right side forward, shoulders squared, Vixen's Tusk flipped in a pommeling position.
Strike after strike we clashed across the archives, my big toe throbbing hot as my hatred toward Niellan. Some say nothing good ever results from anger, and that may be true for them. Me? I thrived on the stuff. It got me up in the morning, drove me to reclaim my family’s wealth, and kept me alive that night in Faral-Muzafti.
Our feet scuffled out of the archives and into the colonnade overlooking the city. Only then did the earthshaking clash of the Daybreak Gong boom throughout the halls.
“No!” My voice was drowned out by the rumble of water underfoot. I could only hope the cascade would flush out Niellan like the vermin he was.
Mist from the floodgates curled everywhere, taking me back to the foggy slums of Port Nithalune. All of my force went into the same trick that gained me an edge over sleazeballs back in those days: I punched the monk smack in the balls.
The sorry bastard went down hard, and I endured a cold curl of pity for lashing out on him instead of Niellan. It didn’t last long—never does—before I dragged myself onto the rails and wound up disappointed by the distinct lack of dead Fenlanders in the shallow cistern. It wasn’t like I could follow him either. From this height, a drop in the cistern could snap my spine on impact. And yet I wasn’t exactly spoilt for choices.
Shouts of alarm yanked my focus down the colonnade, where three more monks swerved around the bend.
“Well,” I muttered, “here goes nothing.”
I dove off the ledge.
The water rushed up in a white-frothed whirl.
And the world went blank.
*---------------*---------------*---------------*
NOTE: My thanks to Justine, Timy & the Storytellers On Tours for giving us an opportunity to take part in this tour.
Official Author Website
Pre-order the book HERE (USA) & HERE (UK)
AUTHOR INFORMATION: Andrea Stewart is the daughter of immigrants, and was raised in a number of places across the United States. Her parents always emphasized science and education, so she spent her childhood immersed in Star Trek and odd-smelling library books. When her (admittedly ambitious) dreams of becoming a dragon slayer didn't pan out, she instead turned to writing books. She now lives in sunny California, and in addition to writing, can be found herding cats, looking at birds, and falling down research rabbit holes.
OFFICIAL BOOK BLURB: In an empire controlled by bone shard magic, Lin, the former heir to the emperor will fight to reclaim her magic and her place on the throne. The Bone Shard Daughter marks the debut of a major new voice in epic fantasy.
The emperor's reign has lasted for decades, his mastery of bone shard magic powering the animal-like constructs that maintain law and order. But now his rule is failing, and revolution is sweeping across the Empire's many islands.
Lin is the emperor's daughter and spends her days trapped in a palace of locked doors and dark secrets. When her father refuses to recognise her as heir to the throne, she vows to prove her worth by mastering the forbidden art of bone shard magic.
Yet such power carries a great cost, and when the revolution reaches the gates of the palace, Lin must decide how far she is willing to go to claim her birthright - and save her people.
FORMAT/INFO: The Bone Shard Daughter is 448 pages long spread out over forty-nine POV titled chapters. September 8th 2020 will mark the e-book, hardcover and audiobook publication of The Bone Shard Daughter and it is published by Orbit Books on both sides of the Atlantic. This is the first volume of the Drowning Empire Trilogy.
OVERVIEW/ANALYSIS: The Bone Shard Daughter is an interesting debut that caught my eye based on Andrea Stewart and its blurb. The book was definitely one of the most original stories I’ve read in the past decade.
The story is set on a series of Islands & archipelagos which consist of the main empire in question. It’s ruled by an emperor who is the main enforcer for the empire by virtue of his bone shard magic. The emperor controls the people and maintains justice, law and order for its inhabitants via these awesome constructs which are made from bones. The process of how these bone shards are collected is a bit chilling and has its roots in how the empire was saved from the Alanga. The emperor has ruled with an iron fist for quite many years however something seems to be changing. Is it age, is it the loss of magic or something else.
The story has five main POV characters and each one is brilliantly distinct from the other. There’s Lin who is the Emperor’s daughter and a person struggling to control her power. There’s Jovis a brilliant smuggler whose life consists entirely focused on a search for a loved one. There’s Phalue, the Sapphic daughter of the governor and Ranami, her girlfriend and a main rebel as well. Lastly there’s Sand a person who’s lost her memory and is also on an island with others suffering from the same affliction. Plus the author really differentiates the POV characters by having them in first and third person narratives so that was an interesting twist. Plus each of the characters is distinctly different and presents a perspective that showcases a different aspect of the world.
The world setting is very different and absolutely the highlight of the story. Because of the island settings, right off the bat we get treated to a non-medieval setting that’ unique and much more fun to explore. I l also loved the magic system utilized which is unique but also very, very creepy. The empire is controlled and protected by Bone constructs and these constructs are literally fueled by its inhabitants. Each family is forced or rather told to honourably contribute a bone shard (from the head no less) for the successful promulgation of the empire and its security. The catch being that many children and adults have died from this process called the tithing ceremony and yet it’s goes on without any complaints (or none that the emperor will care to listen).
In this regard, the security of the empire is very much in the hands of the Emperor and contributed by the people. These Bone constructs take on major and minor forms and can communicate as well. This just adds to the creepy factor and the author really does a fine job in fleshing out this whole premise. Lastly the ending of this book is a veritable stunner and will leave you gasping for the next book immediately. That’s a near-perfect way to finish a debut story if you ask me.
The only part of the book that prevented it from being a five star read for me was that the pace is very uneven throughout the story. Firstly the author introduces five different POV characters in the first six chapters of the story and during the middle third of the book (especially within a couple of POVs, the pace is dragged down horribly). It picks up decently as the plot converges towards the climax but it never quite evens out. Honestly this was subjective and the only part that dampened a near fantastic read for me.
CONCLUSION: Featuring a very unique magic system and a writing style that’s very easy to follow as well as sophisticated. Andrea Stewart presents a debut that’s captivating and creepy in just the right amounts. The Bone shard Daughter is one of my favourite debuts of 2020 and easily marks Andrea as an author to follow. I can’t wait to read the remaining Drowning Empire sequels to see what she does and how she develops further as a writer.
Pre-order the book HERE (USA) & HERE (UK)
AUTHOR INFORMATION: Andrea Stewart is the daughter of immigrants, and was raised in a number of places across the United States. Her parents always emphasized science and education, so she spent her childhood immersed in Star Trek and odd-smelling library books. When her (admittedly ambitious) dreams of becoming a dragon slayer didn't pan out, she instead turned to writing books. She now lives in sunny California, and in addition to writing, can be found herding cats, looking at birds, and falling down research rabbit holes.
OFFICIAL BOOK BLURB: In an empire controlled by bone shard magic, Lin, the former heir to the emperor will fight to reclaim her magic and her place on the throne. The Bone Shard Daughter marks the debut of a major new voice in epic fantasy.
The emperor's reign has lasted for decades, his mastery of bone shard magic powering the animal-like constructs that maintain law and order. But now his rule is failing, and revolution is sweeping across the Empire's many islands.
Lin is the emperor's daughter and spends her days trapped in a palace of locked doors and dark secrets. When her father refuses to recognise her as heir to the throne, she vows to prove her worth by mastering the forbidden art of bone shard magic.
Yet such power carries a great cost, and when the revolution reaches the gates of the palace, Lin must decide how far she is willing to go to claim her birthright - and save her people.
FORMAT/INFO: The Bone Shard Daughter is 448 pages long spread out over forty-nine POV titled chapters. September 8th 2020 will mark the e-book, hardcover and audiobook publication of The Bone Shard Daughter and it is published by Orbit Books on both sides of the Atlantic. This is the first volume of the Drowning Empire Trilogy.
OVERVIEW/ANALYSIS: The Bone Shard Daughter is an interesting debut that caught my eye based on Andrea Stewart and its blurb. The book was definitely one of the most original stories I’ve read in the past decade.
The story is set on a series of Islands & archipelagos which consist of the main empire in question. It’s ruled by an emperor who is the main enforcer for the empire by virtue of his bone shard magic. The emperor controls the people and maintains justice, law and order for its inhabitants via these awesome constructs which are made from bones. The process of how these bone shards are collected is a bit chilling and has its roots in how the empire was saved from the Alanga. The emperor has ruled with an iron fist for quite many years however something seems to be changing. Is it age, is it the loss of magic or something else.
The story has five main POV characters and each one is brilliantly distinct from the other. There’s Lin who is the Emperor’s daughter and a person struggling to control her power. There’s Jovis a brilliant smuggler whose life consists entirely focused on a search for a loved one. There’s Phalue, the Sapphic daughter of the governor and Ranami, her girlfriend and a main rebel as well. Lastly there’s Sand a person who’s lost her memory and is also on an island with others suffering from the same affliction. Plus the author really differentiates the POV characters by having them in first and third person narratives so that was an interesting twist. Plus each of the characters is distinctly different and presents a perspective that showcases a different aspect of the world.
The world setting is very different and absolutely the highlight of the story. Because of the island settings, right off the bat we get treated to a non-medieval setting that’ unique and much more fun to explore. I l also loved the magic system utilized which is unique but also very, very creepy. The empire is controlled and protected by Bone constructs and these constructs are literally fueled by its inhabitants. Each family is forced or rather told to honourably contribute a bone shard (from the head no less) for the successful promulgation of the empire and its security. The catch being that many children and adults have died from this process called the tithing ceremony and yet it’s goes on without any complaints (or none that the emperor will care to listen).
In this regard, the security of the empire is very much in the hands of the Emperor and contributed by the people. These Bone constructs take on major and minor forms and can communicate as well. This just adds to the creepy factor and the author really does a fine job in fleshing out this whole premise. Lastly the ending of this book is a veritable stunner and will leave you gasping for the next book immediately. That’s a near-perfect way to finish a debut story if you ask me.
The only part of the book that prevented it from being a five star read for me was that the pace is very uneven throughout the story. Firstly the author introduces five different POV characters in the first six chapters of the story and during the middle third of the book (especially within a couple of POVs, the pace is dragged down horribly). It picks up decently as the plot converges towards the climax but it never quite evens out. Honestly this was subjective and the only part that dampened a near fantastic read for me.
CONCLUSION: Featuring a very unique magic system and a writing style that’s very easy to follow as well as sophisticated. Andrea Stewart presents a debut that’s captivating and creepy in just the right amounts. The Bone shard Daughter is one of my favourite debuts of 2020 and easily marks Andrea as an author to follow. I can’t wait to read the remaining Drowning Empire sequels to see what she does and how she develops further as a writer.
NOTE: My thanks to Kate Heceta, Andrea Stewart and Orbit Books for allowing me to be a part of the Bone Shard Daughter Blog Tour. You can check out the remaining stops below.
Official author website
Order The Combat Codes over here: USA/UK
Read Fantasy Book Critic's interview with Alexander Darwin
FORMAT/INFO: Self-published by the author in 2015, The Combat Code counts 408 pages and is available in paperback, ebook, and audiobook formats. Cover design by Damonza.
“We fight, so the rest shall not have to.”
The Combat Codes is set in a dystopian society where one-on-one, MMA style combat replaced war. It blends fantasy, sci-fi, cyberpunk, martial arts, and more.
Murray Pearson, a former Grievar champion, works as a scout. While looking for potential recruits in the slave circles, he spots an adolescent boy, Cego, with remarkable martial skills and honorable attitude. He introduces him to the Lyceum where promising teenagers learn martial techniques and compete with each other.
There’s much more to the story, but revealing it would spoil things for you. The book plays with the tropes (magic school, chosen one, master/apprentice) and while it doesn’t spin them around, it avoids obvious twists. It contains plenty of well-written and well-choreographed hand to hand battles. Some of them are brutal and graphic, but never gratuitously.
The fights take place in circles made of “alloys” that influence fighters in unique ways (for example, auralite makes you want to please the crows and rubellium rises anger). A great and well-executed concept. The government uses neurotech to enhance their fighters, but their machinations may run even deeper. I would say Darwin succeeded at connecting Cego’s journey of self-discovery with a much more complex plot of interplanetary politics and balance of power.
Despite young age, Cego acts like a wise adult with plenty of life-experience. He’s competent, honorable, and acceptably special. His teammates/enemies play well-known roles present in most magic/fight school setting (a bully, a mannered nobleman, good-natured bag of muscles, etc.). Most of them are memorable and well-rounded (it’s impossible to dislike Dozer or Abel); only Shiar, the bully, suffers from a profound lack of depth. He’s, basically, a caricature of a mean and arrogant douchebag.
I applaud Darwin’s approach to structuring scenes - Cego’s plans often end in a disaster, and it keeps things exciting. He faces all possible adversities (physical and emotional injuries, terrifying discoveries, a threat to him and those close to him), and reacts accordingly to get out of a jam. It also means the story ends in a cliffhanger, but not of the type that would make you furious. Quite the opposite.
“We fight neither to inflict pain nor prolong suffering. We fight neither to mollify anger nor to satisfy vendetta. We fight neither to accumulate wealth nor to promote social standing. We fight so that the rest shall not have to.”
The Combat Codes draws abundantly from martial arts movies and it embraces both awesome and cheesy staples of the genre. I had great fun reading it and found it exciting throughout. A must for fans of well-paced and mindful martial arts stories.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
