Adrian Collins's Blog, page 52

REVIEW: Shogun

There were high hopes for Shogun as the limited series landed on Disney+. Based on James Clavell’s novels set in 17th Century Japan, people were already comparing it to Game of Thrones with the promise of political intrigue, sex, and violence. If anything, such a comparison doesn’t do it justice. The dynastical and religious rivalries may evoke memories of Game of Thrones but Shogun has earned the right to stand on its own with a stunning season that is a near flawless adaptation of the excellent source material.

Shogun starts with British sailor John Blackthorne finding himself as one of the very few foreigners to arrive in the very secretive Japan just as there is a vacuum of power and a struggle for leadership including the incredible Lord Yoshii Toranaga (played to perfection by the always amazing Hiroyuki Sanada). Blackthorne is played between the various sides and finds himself growing close to his translator Mariko (Anna Sawai – Monarch: Legacy of Monsters) who is struggling with the shame of her family’s past and a desire to die. Their growing relationship is the heart of the story as Blackthorne tries to understand this strange new world he is in and do his best to get back home at a time when enemies appear to be everywhere. Both Sawai and Sanada play their parts with an overwhelming melancholy in their scenes. There is a sense of dread that permeates Shogun as Toranaga attempts to keep his plans (and plans within plans within plans…) hidden whilst opposing the ruling council and Mariko attempts to find slithers of joy as a woman caught between two worlds, her Japanese world with husband Buntaro and that of her new Christian faith that is growing in Japan. The acting across the board is top notch and ensures that the audience is invested, even where there is a lot of heavy lifting to do with the story in the early stages.

The strength of Shogun is in its writing. The characters are well-written with nuance and the story has time to breathe across the season. Shogun also benefits from being one season with no further series planned. The writers knew the ending to begin with and they knew the time they had to tell the story without having to leave any dangling threads of intrigue. The world is drawn as a grim one and many of the characters aren’t black and white but realistic shades of grey as they do what they can to survive. Sacrifices are made, earthquakes hit, and those who act with dishonour lose their head: this is a dark show but a beautiful one. Like Game of Thrones at its best, you find yourself changing your opinions on characters as more sides to them are revealed and layers of the story peeled away to reveal more depth. Characters that I disliked in the beginning act with surprising heroism and bravery whilst others that I liked treat their peers with disrespect and twisted my opinions of them. There is a real sadness when characters die as the audience is given clarity about the struggles of living in a world with such strict structures around honour during a time of war. It’s brilliant stuff and the best thing is, the show most certainly sticks the landing with a restrained but stunning finale. The showrunners didn’t try to flip the script with the last episode and throw everything at it for a huge finale. Instead, they stuck to what the show did best, focused on the characters and revealed more to the audience about the depths of planning, betrayal, and cunning that they had missed. This is how to finish a great series and other showrunners need to take note.

Shogun is a masterpiece historical series that you won’t want to miss. With great writing and an incredible cast including Cosmo Jarvis, Anna Sawai, and the always brilliant Hiroyuki Sanada and Tadanobu Asano, Shogun is a near perfect limited series with a moving finale delivered in a way that would make Kurosawa proud. Fans of history have been blessed recently with great series such as Last Kingdom but Shogun could be the best one yet. Short but most certainly sweet, it’s sad to say sayonara to Shogun but my God it was incredible while it lasted. Ten episodes of brilliance.

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REVIEW: Age of the Dryad by Jacob Sannox

Nature won the war. Dryads, spirit protectors of the forests, have defeated mankind. Their King Dark Oak now reigns across The Old Continent, but his victory over Queen Cathryn only intensifies his need to control. Fueled by the painful memories of his past, he confines mankind to his unforgiving regime. Mankind is leaderless, powerless, and scattered. Still, Dark Oak is not satisfied. His boundless rage may destroy the very forests he sought to protect. A new age dawns in Jacob Sannox’s second book of The Dark Oak Chronicles. Age of the Dryad is classic fantasy meets post apocalypse.

For a thousand years the combined people were unified. Defying all odds, they stood against the dark lord and political turmoil. Their gathered strength is nothing compared to the new king of the Dryads. Dark Oak easily shatters their legacy. His victory topples their entire civilization. He imposes extreme sanctions, reducing mankind to simple hunters and gatherers. Displaced and homeless people became bandits and victims. The land became lawless. The forest grows unchecked and wreaks havoc on unprepared ecosystems, forcing the attention of other spirits.

Age of the Dryad reads as a set up for an epic finale. Dark Oak’s inability to let go of his past draws criticism from amongst the Dryads. Other spirits question his totalitarian regime. Queen Cathryn and others seek to kill him. His enemies are swarming from all sides, including his own. Dark Oak must split his focus between ruling and protecting his status as both King of the Dryads and overseer of mankind.

The first step to becoming a dark lord is having good intentions. Age of the Dryad is a detailed account of Dark Oak’s descent into madness. The reader is provided with more of Dark Oak’s reflection of his troubled past. To maintain control, Dark Oak searches for dark and forbidden knowledge. His struggle with justifying his actions and his uncontrollable anger makes him a compelling villain.

Age of the Dryad follows the perspectives of other characters including Queen Cathryn, Sir Tolucan, and Dark Oak’s children. Like the first book Dark Oak, the reader is privy to planned schemes and deceptions. Despite the numerous perspectives, there are still plenty of surprises in Age of the Dryad. Jacob Sannox’s writing shines during his characters’ darkest moments.

Age of the Dryad is a slow burn that quickly picks up pace in the second half. It is rewarding to discover how the different facets of Jacob Sannox’s worldbuilding and characters entwine. The Old Continent may witness history repeat itself. The dark lord was slayed but the more powerful Dark Oak is tracing his footsteps.

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REVIEW: The Truth of the Aleke by Moses Ose Utomi

Moses Ose Utomi releases yet another triumph of a novella in his second instalment to his phenomenal Forever Desert novella trilogy. Set 500 years after the events of The Lies of the Ajungo, we revisit the Forever Desert in The Truth of the Aleke. Seventeen-year-old Osi is a Junior Peacekeeper and is trying to keep himself and his family afloat. Osi is on duty when the infamous Cult of Tutu and their mysterious leader The Aleke arrive and massacre hundreds in order to steal the sacred ‘Gods Eyes’, black stone-beads that gift super-strength, amongst other powers, to its holder. In a feat of bravery, Osi finds himself confronting The Aleke, but is quickly cut down. After the ambush, Osi is named a hero amongst his people. His glory is short-lived, however, when he is tasked with the responsibility of destroying The Aleke and his cult, and recovering the stolen ‘Gods Eyes’.

This was tremendous, to say the least. Anyone who has read The Lies of the Ajungo is acutely aware of Utomi’s ability to write the harshest tragedies in just over 100 pages. This instalment is no different. Utomi explores themes of falsehood, poverty, power and the binds of history. Each of these lay heavy within the realm of Grimdark, making this the perfect read for any Grimdark fan looking for a short and snappy read.

The story is not so black and white, and the dichotomy of good and evil is severely blurred here. We follow Osi as he slowly discovers the truth of his people’s history, and how he chooses to handle the heavy weight of this. Readers are kept on their toes, never knowing who to believe, much like Osi himself. The essence of the novella can be summed up in one of Utomi’s brilliant and poignant quotes:

‘History is only a story, told by those with power to justify why they have it.’

The magic system in The Truth of the Aleke is superb, and reading the action scenes will always get your blood pumping. The fantasy element works hand-in-hand with the political aspect, balancing out the story well and never over-saturating one over the other. Aspects of history from the first novella are rife in this book, lending the reader a sense of nostalgia while reading.

I also wanted to note that it is imperative to read the author’s note at the end of the book.  Not only does it encompass the aim of the novella in its entirety, but Utomi shares his thoughts on how he sees Osi in himself, as well as Tutu from The Lies of the Ajungo. I truly felt the author’s note rounded out my reading experience perfectly.

Utomi’s ability to cram such a dense and well-developed world in just over 100 pages is commendable and done with a fluid grace; it almost felt like reading a full-sized novel. The Truth of the Aleke  was so well curated and detailed for its length, whilst simultaneously leaving me wanting more, having been overtaken by the curiosity the ending leaves us with.  This, of course, provides the perfect leeway for book 3. I will always look forward to returning to the Forever Desert, with Utomi at the rein. Book 3 could not come soon enough!

Read The Truth of the Aleke by Moses Ose Utomi

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An Interview With Taran Matharu

Taran Matharu has been obsessed with stories from a young age. So it’s only natural he turned to writing. He is the author of the Summoner series of young adult fantasy novels and Dragon Rider, the first book in the Soulbond Saga. We loved this adventurous epic fantasy – and had the chance to speak to Taran in advance of publication.

[GdM] Can you pitch Dragon Rider in one or two sentences for our readers?

[TM] Dragon Rider blends the complex and violent politics of Game of Thrones, the warrior-in-training and dragon relationships of Eragon, and a magic system inspired by the burgeoning cultivation genre, where the characters soulbond with beasts, cultivate mana, and ascend to greater levels of power.

[GdM] We love dragons – I think I can speak for the entire Grimdark Magazine team here – but what appeals to you specifically about them, what made you fall in love with them?

[TM] Dragons symbolize the ultimate blend of might and mystery, evoking the power of the ancient and wild unknown. And I can’t imagine a more majestic and powerful mount to ride into battle.

[GdM] Has the writing and publication process for Dragon Rider been very different to what you went through for your earlier, YA, books?

[TM] I’ve really enjoyed the transition to adult fantasy. With my YA books, I always kept younger readers in mind, drawing from the passions of my youth – especially in terms of its themes and the level of violence and complexity. In shedding those constraints I can explore grittier territory, more morally ambiguous characters, and new avenues of worldbuilding.

[GdM] Dragon Rider still has a lot of crossover appeal. Have your interactions with your readers changed? Have you actively noticed a shift in audience?

[TM] The change has not been so noticeable, although it’s still quite early in the book’s release. I think this is partly because I’ve found that many, if not most of my YA book readers are adults, which is not uncommon in the YA space. But I have found some of my teen audience asking me if Dragon Rider is appropriate for older teens – a difficult question to answer!

[GdM] Frieda and Jai are both unfamiliar with the world around them and how to interact with it. What was the draw of writing characters who, for a range of reasons, don’t quite know how to navigate their surroundings?

[TM] I’ve always loved fish-out-of-water characters, both from a writer’s perspective and that of a reader. The audience are brought on the same journey of discovery as the characters are, and it certainly makes it more straightforward for the reader to learn about the world. I also particularly enjoy how a fresh perspective can often allow such characters to beat their competition at their own game. 

[GdM] Grouchy mentor is one of my favourite tropes in fiction. And Rufus fills that role brilliantly in Dragon Rider – can you tell us a bit more about him and how he was conceived?

[TM] Rufus might be described an amalgamation of all my favorite grouchy mentors, in life and fiction both, so I’m glad that came across! It’s far more compelling to see the winning over of a reluctant teacher, than one who is kind and caring from the outset. 

[GdM] I found Dragon Rider to have a video game energy about it. It struck me how you were quantifying magic and its use with levels of soulbonding and an energy core that needs to charge. What were your intentions with this?

[TM] Progression fantasy is a growing niche that traditional publishers can’t fill fast enough, and Dragon Rider falls into its subgenre of cultivation — where its hard magic systems are inspired by Chinese wuxia. I’ve always been a fan of these systems, and my Summoner series also included quantifiable levels of power where magic was a finite resource. Another subgenre I enjoy is LitRPG – where the magic system is aligned with video game-like rules, often in a Ready Player One like VR game.

[GdM] While it is primarily a fun adventure, Dragon Rider has a strong political element that we only touch on during the story so far. Can you tell us a bit more about the world and the tensions inherent in the interactions of different powers?

[TM] When creating the main character in Dragon Rider, I was inspired by the life of Atilla the Hun. Jai is the prince of a subjugated people, raised in the court of his enemies, serving at the feet of the emperor who executed his father. And much like Atilla, Jai hopes to one day return to his people with everything he’s learned, and take his revenge. Much of the politics of that world can be seen through that lens, and also serve as the foundation for a violent wedding scene that becomes known in the world of Dragon Rider as the Black Rehearsal. 

[GdM] Do you have any favourite dragon stories to recommend to our audience? Or any media that has really stood out to you recently, more generally?

[TM] If folks enjoy my Dragon Rider series, I think they’d enjoy a book by my friend Michael R. Miller, another cultivation dragon rider fantasy that has taken Amazon by storm. It follows the story of kitchen boy Holt, and the blind dragon hatchling he rescues, Ash.

[Editor’s note: The book referred to here is Ascendant by Michael R. Miller]

[GdM] And finally, can you tell us anything about what you’re currently working on?

[TM] I’m currently working on editing the sequel for Dragon Rider, and have just started writing the final book in the series. I’m also travelling around the UK soon, signing at any Waterstones that’ll have me!

Read Dragon Rider by Taran Matharu

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REVIEW: Castlevania: Nocturne

Castlevania: Nocturne is the latest installment of Netflix’s Castlevania series, originally written and produced by Warren Ellis. The original series, starring Trevor Belmont (voiced by Richard Armitage) and Sypha Belnades (Alejandra Reynos), was a loose adaptation of Castlevania III with Dracula as the main antagonist for the first two seasons. It lasted four seasons and was generally very well received by both fans of the game as well as newcomers. Making a new series with a new cast seemed a reasonable assumption given the video games’ continuing storyline as well as Warren Ellis being terminated from the project for reasons that you can research on your own.

Fans of Castlevania: Rondo of Blood will note that this story has very little in common with the video game version of the story. For whatever reason, they chose not to bring back Dracula for this installment of Castlevania and that is going to rub a lot of fans the wrong way. I feel like this was a mistake and hope Dracula will make a latter appearance in the story because for a lot of us, well, Dracula is Castlevania. Still, as an original story, Nocturne has a lot going for it.

The premise is that it is the French Revolution. Vampires have been spreading through the noble houses of Europe and have taken their place among the aristocracy before the people lashed out against them. Maria Renard (Pixie Davis) and Richter Belmont (Edward Bluemel) are young vampire hunters loosely aligned with the Revolution. They believe the vampires are plotting something big, though, and turn to a local Abbot (Richard Dormer) as well as the Knights Hospitaller to get their aid against the undead. Unfortunately, it turns out that the Church would rather side with the powers of darkness than the atheist revolutionaries.

There’s a lot more going on in the story despite this already solid premise. An escaped Haitian slave, Annette (Thusa Mbedu), and opera singer named Edouard have their own reasons to hunt vampires in France. The vampires are a peculiar mix of the deluded self-styled goddess Ersebet Bathory (Franka Potente), the succubus Drolta (Elarica Johnson), and the Aztec vampire Orlox (Zahn McClamon). Orlox has a peculiar relationship with Richter Belmont, having killed his mother Julia but being a man who has far more sympathetic qualities than the other undead.

A lot happens in the first eight episodes, and I would say this is close to the same level of quality as the first two seasons. There’s a lot of complicated character development, use of period politics, and good action scenes. The animation is excellent, and the character designs are extremely well done. I particularly like both Julia Belmont and Tera Renard as they’re adult women in a genre typically defined by teenage heroes. The lack of the original cast is somewhat disappointing but its centuries later so what are you going to do?

The original series went overly hard on their anti-Catholicism, and this takes it up to the eleven with antagonist being such a monstrous self-deluded hypocrite that it is possible he’ll go down as one of the worst religious characters in fiction. However, this is a time when the slave trade had the implicit approval of certain leaders in the Catholic Church so it’s difficult to say any of it is unfair. There’s much anti-colonialist sentiment throughout the series but it’s woven into the story seamlessly. Still, this is a story that will make people with a romanticized view of history uncomfortable and that’s good.

There are some flaws to the story. Maria and Richter being teenagers mean they’re axiomatically more annoying than the adult protagonists of the original series. Yes, this is a theme in my reviews. Seriously, though, they do sometimes seem like their voice hasn’t cracked. A lot of the season is also set up for the next season as well. The so-called Vampire Messiah also seems to be one-dimensional, which is fine since not every baddie has to be. There’s plenty of other three-dimensional characters in the series.

Overall, I recommend the anime and suggest people check it out if you like R-rated horror animation or the previous series.

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An Interview with Lavanya Lakshminarayan

Lavanya Lakshminarayan is the award-winning author of The Ten Percent Thief, a dystopian science fiction novel set in a future version of Bangalore known as Apex City. Lavanya is a Locus Award finalist and is the first science-fiction writer to win the Times of India AutHer Award and the Valley of Words Award. She has also been nominated for the BSFA Award.

Lavanya’s short fiction has appeared in numerous anthologies and magazines, including Someone In Time, The Gollancz Book of South Asian Science Fiction (Vol. 2), and Apex Magazine’s International Futurists Special Issue. Her work has been translated into French, Italian, Spanish, and German.

She is also a game designer and has built worlds for Zynga Inc.’s FarmVille franchise, Mafia Wars, and other games. I recently had the pleasure of discussing with Lavanya about The Ten Percent Thief, her approach to writing, and her future plans.

[GdM] Thanks so much for taking the time to do this interview with Grimdark Magazine. Your novel, The Ten Percent Thief, was one of my top books of 2023. Could you tell us about the background of your dystopian sci-fi debut?

[LL] Thank you so much for your kind words, and for taking the time to do this interview with me, John!

The Ten Percent Thief has its origins in my hometown—Bangalore, India—which went from being a laidback little city to a bustling metropolis, the heart of tech and start-up culture in India. This transformation took place in the span of a decade (and spare change) while I was growing up. It inspired starry-eyed dreams of economic growth and opportunity, being included in the global imagination, billion-dollar start-up ideas and all.

Riding this new wave of hope, I worked in videogames straight out of university. Gaming is a high-pressure industry, and I’ve always been an ambitious workaholic. After a string of successes, I eventually burnt out, and found the space to observe the world around me, without the overarching pressure to perform and be productive nonstop.

Now, I love this city I live in. Drop into a coffee shop and there are start-up founders prepping for investor meetings, user tests in progress, and conversations about virtual reality, AI, robotics, space exploration… all the future you could ever want, all around you. The economy is growing, and the city is more multicultural than ever before. It’s genuinely very cool, and nothing like the limited ideas of life in India that generations have been raised to believe in.

But for all that, traffic in the city is a dystopian nightmare, we’re facing a terrible water crisis as we speak, and the effects of climate crisis are palpable in everyday life. And given the scale of the population, those who get to be part of this exciting futuristic conversation belong to a bubble of privilege, living side by side with millions who have limited, if any, access to a smartphone or other “basic tech,” and all the access and opportunities that come with it.

Finally, coming back to the burnout I experienced. It’s everywhere. It’s impacting people’s lives, their health and happiness, because everyone is so hard-pressed to make it in a world of ever-growing demands on their time.

Take rampant social and economic disparity, pair it with the capitalist system we find ourselves unable to escape—escalating costs of living and all, throw in a side of the raging climate crisis, and pop it into a world that’s driven by hustle culture… I found myself witnessing the story of a city, and I followed it into one of its possible futures.

[GdM] The Big Brother of The Ten Percent Thief is Bell Corp, a corporation that has created its own technocratic caste system and has a zero-tolerance policy toward failure. Do you view the expectation of perfection as a growing issue in a society drenched in social media?

[LL] We live in a very polarized world, where our capacity for dialogue is dwindling. In my view, social media serves as a platform to amplify the dominant philosophies of our time, in all their polarizing capacities, with a massive side of big tech’s algorithms running interference. We could be talking about large-scale political opinions before an election, or truly personal choices, like parenting methods, and these conversations and confrontations that were once limited to one’s family and friends take place with complete strangers, before a live audience. And everyone has their view of what constitutes “perfection.”

The fear of criticism and conflict is a massive undercurrent in this space. I think this generates a great deal of pressure to conform to a certain kind of “perfection”—once you’ve declared where you stand, you need to constantly perform this stance or you’re subject to scrutiny.

To err is human. To have differences is what makes us unique, and dialogue is the only way to resolve them. Sadly, there’s little room for conversation or second chances. But like I’ve said, this is a symptom of the times we live in—what we need is more empathy. Social media has the potential to be shaped the same way reality does. We just need to try harder and be kinder.

[GdM] Bell Corp has created a harsh dichotomy between “Virtual” citizens at the upper end of their curve and “Analog” individuals at the lower end. The Virtuals enjoy a technologically privileged, purportedly utopian lifestyle. But in reality, this existence has taken the humanity out of humankind. On the other hand, the shunned Analogs live an existence with face-to-face conversations, trips to the grocery store to buy food, and newspapers that are printed on actual paper. Could you give us some more insights on how you developed the details of this neo-caste system imposed by Bell Corp?

[LL] I modelled Bell Corp’s vision of a successful life along similar lines to what we consider success in the present day. The capitalist system we live within pits us against each other, conditions us to work harder, outperform, get that big raise, keep climbing the ladder towards the new car, a bigger house, family vacations in exotic destinations, and maybe, someday we’ll be able to afford to go to the moon. It’s also designed to trip us up in innumerable ways at every turn. And this is what the Virtual elite have to deal with—to simply be is never enough; there’s always more to be gained, and everything to be lost.

I wanted to reflect upon that hollowness. Apex City is an extreme version of what I view as our reality. Most of the Virtual elite are steeped in privilege, but their lives are stressful and unrewarding; their social connections are perfunctory, usually competitive, occasionally even recommended by algorithms based on networking advantages; their internal worlds are limited by the heavy propaganda and thought policing they’re subjected to. Sadly, I see this as a reflection of the human condition.

With the Analogs, on the other hand, I wanted to mull over what might happen if we were stripped of everything we possess and left with nothing tangible to fight over. Like John Lennon’s Imagine, except there’s nothing utopian about Apex City. Entirely organically and much to my surprise, while I was writing, the Analogs on the page came together as a community, sorted out their differences of opinion, and took on the real challenges facing them. Call me an optimist, but if we were to drown out all the noise, perhaps there’d be hope for us, too.

[GdM] The COVID-19 pandemic also had an isolating effect on individuals throughout the world, many of whom craved the traditional in-person interactions experienced by the Analog class. Was this also part of your rationale in developing Analog society, or was that just coincidence?

[LL] It was an entirely bizarre coincidence. I wrote most of The Ten Percent Thief back in 2018, before COVID shook the foundations of our reality. It was first released in South Asia in February 2020 with the title Analog/ Virtual, two weeks before India went into lockdown with the first wave of COVID.

I was horrified. I’d written what was effectively a prophecy of doom, and several aspects of it were coming true all over the world. The social and economic disparities in India had never been starker. There were migrant workers walking hundreds of miles back to their hometowns because transportation was shut down, at the height of summer. So many children without smartphones couldn’t go to school online, access to healthcare was often dependent on access to social media—it was a mess, a dystopia based on tech disparity come true.

And of course, it was terrible for everyone with technology, as well, in entirely different ways. In the weeks and months that followed, readers all over the country got in touch to tell me they were identifying with the struggles of many of my characters, and that the book was helping them find moments of hope. That was bittersweet; you always hope your work is going to resonate, just never in the light of a global catastrophe.

[GdM] I love the structure of The Ten Percent Thief and how we view this dystopian society from so many different points of view through their interconnected stories. Could you tell us your thought process in developing this format for the novel?

[LL] Thank you for your kind words! When I started writing about Bangalore’s transformation, I was working out my own relationship with technology and the city I lived in, and that took the form of a short story titled Analog/ Virtual, which is now a chapter in the book.

As I thought about the new textures of this city, and how they co-existed with, reshaped, and occasionally, stamped out its existing identity, it dawned on me that I wanted to tell the story of its future. And that meant telling the story of its people—as many of them as possible, from as many walks of life as this book could hold. They popped up in my imagination in throngs, all going about their everyday lives, and I followed each of them down the proverbial rabbit hole.

I think the threads of this story emerged as I turned it over in my mind, prizing it apart and reassembling it in a dozen different ways. It became clear to me that no single character could reflect this city in its entirety. So, I kept adding perspectives, and sought to weave them all together, in the hope that they’d represent this city in all its variegated complexity.

[GdM] I also love how you employ first-, second-, and third-person narration across different chapters of the novel. How did you choose which type of narration to use for each chapter? Do you have a favorite point-of-view character from the novel?

[LL] Thank you again!

I think my choice of narrative voice is quite organic. In general, I tend to live in all my characters’ heads for a bit, and wander through their lives trying to figure them out, long before I set words to paper. To me, it always feels like I’m getting to know them so I can figure out how to tell their story right. Narrative voice then becomes a deeply personal decision, based on what I believe I know about each character. I’d like to think that I’m respectful of how closely they’d like to be viewed.

I like to leave room for readers to figure out my characters, as well. I constantly ask myself: How much of this person do I reveal to the reader? Where does the reader get to judge, or empathize with, or praise or condemn this person’s choices? In this novel, especially, I wanted to leave room for readers to form their own conclusions about everything that’s going on. And that helped me settle upon the closeness, or distance, with which to write each perspective.

It’s tough to choose a favorite, though. I had a ridiculously good time writing “The Be-Moji Project” in third-person omniscient, because it gave me the chance to zoom all the way out and simply paint the absurdity of the world my book is set in. But my favorite point-of-view character is probably the second-person AI algorithm named M.I.M.E.S.I.S. in “The Seven-Year Glitch.” Getting into their head and writing in their voice gave me the creeps.

[GdM] My favorite chapter in The Ten Percent Thief is the one told in second-person narration by an AI algorithm implanted in the brain of a Virtual news reporter, addressing the reporter as “you” from within her own brain. It is difficult to separate her own true thoughts from the whispers of the AI algorithm, which is constantly trying to optimize her human brain. With AI an increasing presence in our lives, how do we draw that line between appropriate and inappropriate use of artificial intelligence?

[LL] This is a lovely coincidence, considering I just mentioned the AI and the story in question!

There are a few key problem areas surrounding present-day AI. I wrote an essay on gender-biased design in AI, which can be found at The Fantasy Hive. The TL: DR is that there are biases all the way down—not just in terms of the information an AI program is trained on, but with the teams building these programs, themselves. And that impacts entire learning frameworks. Dominant representation is skewed toward the white, male demographic, and most development is housed in the United States. Biases creep in along the axes of race, gender, sexuality, geography, culture… it’s a long list, and at this point, it appears to be more harmful than good.

As I always say, technology is a tool, and it all comes down to the intention with which it’s designed, and how we choose to wield it. And right now, that intention doesn’t seem to be ethical. We’ve been witnessing a laundry list of copyright infringements across art, literature and music. There don’t appear to be legal protections against this, which is completely absurd. Additionally, the popular tech-bro framing of AI as a “shortcut” to achieving all your weekend warrior dreams is completely unethical, heightened by the total disregard for copyrighted material.

If AI were designed to augment and not replace the value of humans or the human imagination; to assist in essential areas that are often under-staffed or under-funded, I could see a place for it. Sadly, many of the corporations that want to fund its development don’t. We need to demand legal and ethical safeguards first, before we can really assess the best way to develop and implement this tech.

[GdM] In this age where the art of writing is under threat from AI, what advice do you have for young authors working toward publishing their first book?

[LL] The prospect of AI is scary, and there are going to be a million different terrifying things on this journey. The world around you is fluid, and you can’t control where it’s going. You can only control your experience of it, so focus on yourself. Ignore the noise—all of it—and keep going. Believe in the worth of your work, and the unique capacity that only you possess to write this very book you’re working on. Persevere because it’s a long road, and it always has been. And good luck!

[GdM] The Ten Percent Thief has an undeniable Orwellian flavor, with citizens constantly monitored and punished for any views that oppose those of their tyrannical government. Beyond George Orwell, who were some of your other influences in writing this novel?

[LL] This is always a tricky one for me; there are so many influences, across media, that go into everything I create. With books, I recall being fascinated by the structure of The Martian Chronicles by Ray Bradbury and China Mountain Zhang by Maureen F McHugh, Revenge by Yoko Ogawa, and Central Station by Lavie Tidhar. Philip K Dick, Kurt Vonnegut, Douglas Adams and Samit Basu, with all the elements of satire in their work. Ursula K Le Guin, philosophically speaking. There’s an homage to two to Aldous Huxley in there, too.

I’m also always influenced by the colours of the music I listen to. Going into this novel, there were shades of OK Computer and Kid A by Radiohead, Simulation Theory by Muse, Philip Glass’s Heroes Symphony, Mahler’s Fifth, and a lot of Stravinsky and Wyschnegradsky at the back of my mind.

[GdM] Could you tell us more about your work as a game designer? What was the most fun project that you worked on?

[LL] I loved working as a game designer, despite how intense and demanding the job can be. Games are an absolute passion; I’ve always said I’d still be designing them full-time if books weren’t my one true love.

I’ve had the incredible opportunity to work on all kinds of games—supermassive worlds with extensive narratives in Mafia Wars and FarmVille, intricately designed word games, indie games on blockchain, and even augmented reality games that involved custom 3D-printed battle robots. My friends and I actually designed and 3D-printed these robots, and had a playable prototype we’d playtest with curious strangers at coffee-shops.

I’ve worn many hats over the years. In addition to being a game designer, I’ve done everything from social media management to game production, which is project management on steroids. It’s hard to pick a favorite project because I’ve worked with many brilliant teams, and really, it all comes down to teamwork. But I do have favorite project phases. I’ve always loved the excitement going into prototyping—it’s all the anticipation of producing a proof of concept, based on a framework you’ve put down on paper. And then there’s the run down to the finish line, when you’re adding final touches and polishing your work—bug scrubs, playtests, and that huge push through to a release, when you’re with your whole team, all waiting to go live. Such a head rush!

[GdM] Thanks again for taking the time to do this interview with Grimdark Magazine. What’s next for Lavanya Lakshminarayan in 2024?

[LL] Thank you again for such a great interview, John! The paperback edition of The Ten Percent Thief just made its way out into the world, and is available wherever books are sold. I have a few short stories forthcoming, and I hope to make it to WorldCon in Glasgow.

And if all goes according to plan, my next book should be out in the second half of 2024. It’s about the future of food, and I’m excited for it to find its way to readers!

This interview originally appeared in Grimdark Magazine Issue #38.

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REVIEW: Thorns of War by João F. Silva

João F. Silva is back and better than ever in Thorns of War, a mind bending sequel that takes the visionary Smokesmiths series to incredible new heights. Equal parts action-packed and introspective, this story is a surprisingly brutal punch to the gut in all the best ways.

Thorns of War picks up a couple of weeks after the explosive ending of Seeds of War, continuing the harrowing tale of all our favourite, and not so favourite, broken and lost souls. The stakes are higher than ever before, and soon nothing and no one is proven to be safe when caught in a war led by the whims of the gods.

Now, it had been a while since I had read book 1, so I was quite nervous to see how I would fare getting back into this world without doing a re-read first. Luckily, Silva has graced us all with a brilliant ‘The Story So Far’ section (thank all that is holy), though I’d dare to say that I wouldn’t even have needed that after all. Silva eases the reader back into the world with effortless grace, and it took me exactly one page to remember why I loved this story so much in the first place.

Honestly, I don’t want to disregard the brilliance of Seeds of War, but there is simply no denying that Thorns of War is just a step up in every single way imaginable. The scope of the story and world (or should I say worlds?) expand exponentially without it feeling overwhelming, the lore deepens in the most enticing ways, the complex characters and their unconventional interpersonal relationships become even more compelling, and epicness honestly just drips off the page as smoke magic is being wielded in new and jaw-dropping ways.

Compared to its predecessor, there is a bit more action in the early stages of this novel, but overall it is still a deliciously slow-burn and character-driven narrative.  Especially Gimlore and Solvi’s tumultuous journeys in Thorns of War really pulled on my heartstrings, and I was not ready for the heartache I would feel for them. Themes of motherhood, trauma, loss, grief, guilt, regret, redemption, and healing are explored in such a painfully raw yet beautifully tender way through their eyes, giving this story a level of emotional depth that I was not ready for, yet welcomed with open arms.

I do have to admit that I was not as emotionally invested in the other POV characters featured in Thorns of War, especially the more minor and newly introduced ones, but that does not mean that their perspectives were any less compelling. The revelations in Rednow and Orberesis’ storylines were truly riveting, and their unexpected personal developments honestly fascinated and frightened me in equal measure.

Yes, I wanted to strangle Orberesis (who will make damn sure you got the memo that he is ‘GoD HimSeLf’) more times than is probably healthy. And yes, some of the magical battle sequences in here were so ethereal and high concept that my brain started to crack a bit, but at the same time I was also just revelling in the epicness of it all. Aside from E.J. Doble’s Blood and Steel Saga, I can think of no other story that has tackled themes of divinity, morality, and mental manipulation in such a uniquely captivating way, and I am truly in awe of Silva’s incredible imagination.

Moreover, I really appreciate that this story is so refreshingly diverse, especially for a dark fantasy. We’ve got a casually queer-normative world, middle-aged characters who kick ass, brutally honest mental health representation, dysfunctional but loving family dynamics, and plenty of diverse races and cultures who are accepted without judgement; this is the future of fantasy.

Safe to say, Silva has done it again. All the simmering tension slowly built up to a truly transcendent and catastrophic climax sequence that shocked me to my core and  shattered any and all expectations I had about this world and story. And all the seeds that were planted in both book 1 and the prequel novella, Ruins of Smoke (which I would say is mandatory reading at this point in the series), are now truly blossoming to their full potential, which only makes me more excited about the vision that Silva has for this epic series.

So, if you have not yet gotten a taste of Silva’s excitingly wild imagination and exceptionally strong storytelling skills, then you are sorely missing out. To all those who like their fantasy to be dark, gritty, inventive, mind-bending, diverse, emotional, and surprisingly heartfelt, please do yourself a favour and check out The Smokesmiths series now; I promise you won’t regret it. 

Thank you to the author for providing me with an eARC in exchange for an honest review. All opinions are my own. Thorns of War is scheduled for release on May 5, 2024.

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REVIEW: Night’s Reign by Daan Katz

Night’s Reign is the elegantly written dark fantasy by Dutch author Daan Katz dealing with themes of trauma, disability, and mental health.

The novel hinges on the relationship between its two lead protagonists. Niels Bosch is an autistic priest with a mysterious and disturbing past. His newly arrived cantor, Beldenka Nadinov, is a physically disabled woman who uses a wheelchair. Although both Niels and Bel harbor plenty of pain from the past, the shy priest is reluctant to share personal details with his spirited cantor.

Meanwhile, Bel focuses on overcoming society’s view of her as a cripple and a so-called “Reject.” She is unrelentingly positive in the face of prejudice and discrimination, displaying a strength that far surpasses anyone’s expectations.

Night’s Reign has excellent representation of physical disability, neurodivergence, and mental health issues. A large fraction of the novel involves exploring the characters’ backstories as they try to overcome trauma from the past and gain the self-confidence needed to face conflict in an uncertain and threatening future. I especially love how the characters support each other as they confront the ghosts of their past. There is also some romance, which is incorporated in a realistic and tasteful fashion.

Night’s Reign employs the classic fantasy trope of a reluctant Chosen One. Fortunately, Daan Katz uses this trope to good effect, in a complex world full of science, theology, and magic.

The world in Night’s Reign is technologically advanced, with knowledge of microbiology and epidemiology, as well as high-speed, magnetically powered ground vehicles call karrs (apparently a variation of the Dutch word for “car”). There are also airplanes known as draken (Dutch for “dragons”). However, I’m honestly not sure how I feel about having a high fantasy world with DNA testing.

This technologically advanced culture is coupled with a bevy of fantastical fauna, including dragons of various sizes and gigantic wolves and apes. My favorite creatures are the dragonets, which are like miniature dragon pets with telepathic powers. There is also magic aplenty, including Dragon Magic and medallions that contain a trace of the Divine.

Daan Katz’s prose is elegant and eminently readable. The entire novel is well-polished and has a literary feel. In a nice touch, the author includes short poems at the beginning of each chapter that preview some of the content to come.

Night’s Reign is highly recommended for its outstanding character work, as well as the compassionate and realistic way that Daan Katz handles disability and mental health issues in a dark world that feels not too foreign from our own.

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EXCERPT: The Silverblood Promise by James Logan

The Silverblood Promise by James Logan is published by Arcadia Books on 25th April. It will be available in Hardback, EBook and Audiobook.

The Mother of Cities

A sharp rap at his cabin door jolted Lukan from sleep.
‘Go away,’ he said – or tried to say. His tongue was gummed to the top of his mouth. He worked it free, grimacing at the sour aftertaste. Another rum-filled night. There had been plenty of those during the second week of his voyage. The ship’s captain – a jovial bear of a man by the name of Graziano Grabulli – had taken to inviting Lukan to his cabin each night for a glass or two (or several) of rum. Like most men from the Talassian Isles, he liked to talk, mostly about himself and his various exploits and escapades – of which there were many. Lukan felt inclined to believe some of them (such as the captain’s encounter with a black shark; the man had the teethmarks on his forearm to prove it) but was sure that others (like his claim to have seen the fabled ghost ship the Pride of Prince Relair) were little more than tall tales. Still, a lack of truthfulness was to be expected from a man who had – courtesy of the Tamberlin Trading Company – a brand on his left wrist that marked him out as a former pirate. Fortunately Grabulli was even more generous with his rum than he was with his lies.
A second knock at the door, slower and more deliberate. ‘Piss off,’ Lukan shouted. He shifted in his hammock, not enjoying the way his stomach lurched. An ache was slowly building at his temples.
The door creaked open.
Lady’s mercy.
He opened his eyes, squinting against the sunlight that poured in through the solitary porthole, illuminating the tiny cabin that had been his home for the past two weeks. Grabulli had prom- ised him quarters fit for a king, but the cabin was barely fit for the rats that lurked in its corners. Lukan had seen bigger broom cupboards. Cleaner ones too.
He blinked at the figure standing in the doorway, recognising the slight figure of the ship’s cabin girl.
‘Thought I told you to get lost,’ he said.
The girl shrugged and made an I didn’t hear you gesture. ‘Yeah, you did. You might be mute, but I know you’re not deaf.’
The girl ignored him and moved to his dresser, which along with a stool was the cabin’s only furniture. She picked up a dagger that Lukan had won from one of the crew, in the early days of the voyage before they had started refusing to play with him, and turned it over in her hands, staring at the garnet set in its pommel.
‘Put that down.’
The girl obliged, placing the dagger back down on the dresser with exaggerated care.
‘You’ve got some nerve, kid, I’ll give you that. What the hells do you want?’
The girl made a shape with her hands: thumbs pressed together, fingers steepled. Captain.
‘Grabulli? What about him?’
She pointed at Lukan – you – and formed a beak with her right hand, opening and closing it. Talk. ‘What, now?’ Lukan winced as he rubbed a thumb against his right temple; his headache was growing worse, and the girl wasn’t helping. ‘Tell him I’ll be up in a bit . . . it’s too damned early.’
The girl traced a circle in the air, then held up nine fingers.
Ninth hour of the day.
‘Yeah, well that’s early for me.’ She made a cutting gesture. Now.
Lukan swore under his breath. ‘Fine, have it your way. Tell the bastard – uh, tell the captain – that I’ll be up shortly.’
The girl nodded and turned back to the dresser, a smile playing across her lips.
Lukan raised a finger. ‘Don’t you even think about—’ She snatched the dagger and darted through the door.
‘You cheeky little . . .’ Lukan managed to get one foot out of the hammock, only for his left leg to get tangled up as he tried to lunge forward. The room flipped and suddenly he was lying on his back, the hammock swinging above him as the patter of the girl’s feet disappeared down the passage. He tried to rise, only to abandon the attempt when the rum in his stomach gurgled a warning that it was considering making a swift, explosive exit. With a groan, Lukan sank back down to the floor and closed his eyes.
Grabulli could wait a little longer.

‘Ah, friend Lekaan!’ Grabulli called from where he stood at the Sunfish’s prow, butchering the pronunciation of Lukan’s name in his usual fashion. The Captain was unmistakable in the red velvet coat that he claimed had been a gift from some prince or other, though which Lukan suspected – judging by the faded stains and poor quality of the lacework – he’d actually picked up at a flea market in some far-flung port. ‘So good of you to join us. A beautiful day, no?’
Perhaps, if you’re not hungover. As it was, the sun was a little too bright, the blue sky a little too vibrant. Still, the breeze that slapped at Lukan and ruffled his hair was proving effective at driving away his headache. He gave a lazy wave in response and picked his way across the deck, doing his best to avoid the crew as they hauled on ropes and called to each other in their peculiar sing-song dialect that seemed comprised almost entirely of insults. The sailors of the Sunfish were a creative bunch when it came to invective, as they’d demonstrated when Lukan fleeced them at cards. He glanced around but didn’t see any sign of the cabin girl. No doubt she would reappear later – without the dagger, of course. Not that it matters, Lukan thought as he climbed the steps to the prow. Damned garnet was fake anyway . . .
‘The morning’s sun to you, friend Lekaan,’ Grabulli said, grinning through his black snarl of a beard.
‘And the evening’s stars for yourself,’ Lukan replied, com- pleting the traditional Talassian greeting as he joined the older man at the railing. He still wasn’t sure when it was that he’d revealed his true identity to Grabulli – no doubt it had been during one of their late-night drinking sessions, the rum loos- ening his tongue and lowering his guard. Perhaps that’s what Grabulli had intended all along, his own tall tales merely serving as cover while the liquor did its work. Or maybe all the liquor is making me paranoid.
‘You seem thoughtful,’ Grabulli said, slapping the back of his
left hand against Lukan’s chest. ‘And even paler than usual.’ He frowned. ‘You are well, yes?’
‘I’m fine.’
‘Come, tell me what’s on your mind.’
I’ve told you too much already. ‘I’m just wondering what’s so important that you woke me up at this ungodly hour.’
The Captain grinned and gestured at the horizon. ‘See for yourself.’
Lukan shielded his eyes against the sun and squinted at the expanse of ocean. Not just ocean, he realised – in the distance were the dark shapes of mountains.
‘Land, friend Lekaan!’ Grabulli clapped Lukan’s shoulder. ‘We’ll dock in Saphrona within the hour. And we’ve arrived two days ahead of schedule, just as I promised you.’
‘You said three days.’
‘I must beg your forgiveness, but I said two.’
‘You said three and then banged the bottle of rum on the table three times, just in case I didn’t quite get your point. And then shouted it again when I didn’t look convinced.’
‘Two days, three days . . .’ Grabulli puffed out his cheeks and shrugged. ‘What does it matter? There’s hardly any difference, no?’
Lukan smiled as he imagined the captain taking the same approach with customs officials. No wonder the Tamberlin Trading Company left their mark on him. ‘You,’ he said, turning his gaze back to the horizon, ‘are a scoundrel.’
Grabulli barked a laugh. ‘Now that is something I can agree with!’

As the Sunfish’s captain prowled the deck, barking orders to his crew as they began final preparations for making port, Lukan remained at the prow and watched the distant mountains draw closer. A half-hour passed before he finally caught sight of Saphrona’s famous Phaeron landmark. The tower rose from the sea in the middle of Saphrona’s bay, a dark edifice constructed from the mysterious black material that the Phaeron had used in all their architecture.
As the Sunfish drew closer, Lukan had to crane his neck to take in the tower’s full height, which must have exceeded two hundred feet. Its surfaces seemed smooth as glass, save for the uppermost storeys, which had splayed outwards like black, broken fingers, as if something within had exploded.
‘The Ebon Hand,’ Lukan murmured. ‘It’s more impressive than I imagined.’
‘Best behave yourself in Saphrona, friend Lekaan.’ Grabulli spat over the railing. ‘You don’t want to end up in that place.’
‘What do you mean?’
The captain pointed. ‘See for yourself.’
As the Sunfish sailed past the tower, Lukan saw several rowing boats bobbing beside a ramshackle wooden jetty. Two figures in uniforms of black trimmed with silver were dragging a third figure between them – a man in a rough-spun tunic, his hands bound. He struggled as they climbed a flight of steps that rose from the end of the jetty, leading to an arched doorway. The man threw back his head, mouth wide, but his scream didn’t reach the Sunfish as he was dragged inside the tower. Lukan’s gaze moved to the banner that hung above the entrance, crossed silver keys on a black background.
‘Whose symbol is that? he asked.
‘The Saphronan Inquisition,’ Grabulli replied, his expression darkening. ‘Protectors of law and order in this fair city, or so they would have you believe.’ He spat over the side again. ‘You do not want to tangle with them, friend Lekaan.’
‘I don’t plan to. So they use the Ebon Hand as a prison?’
‘Just so. And a nasty one it is, too. The stories I’ve heard . . .’ The Talassian shook his head. ‘Anyway,’ he continued, his grin returning as he gestured to the approaching city. ‘Behold the Jewel of the South, the Mother of Cities!’
Lukan turned his attention back to Saphrona. The city sprawled across the crescent-shaped bay and the foothills of the mountains beyond, a hazy tapestry of red-tiled roofs and countless bronze domes gleaming in the morning sunlight. Grabulli pointed to the largest dome, near the centre of the city. ‘The Lady’s House,’ he said, adopting a tone of mock reverence. ‘Where the Lady of Seven Shadows judges us all.’ He belched. ‘If you believe that sort of thing.’
‘You’re not one of the faithful, then? Colour me shocked.’
‘I believe in the strength of steel, friend Lekaan! In the colour of courage, in the—’
‘Language of lies?’
Grabulli punched his arm, a little harder than necessary. ‘Just so! You’re a smart boy.’
Lukan winced as the liquor in his stomach churned another warning. Not so smart. ‘What’s that place?’ he asked, pointing to a grand, turreted building that crowned a promontory at the eastern end of the bay, looming imposingly over the city.
‘That’s the Ducal Palace atop Borja’s Bluff,’ the captain replied. ‘But the Duke rules Saphrona in name only. You see those towers?’ He pointed to seven stone towers rising from the foot- hills of the mountains behind the city. ‘They belong to the “Silken Septet” – the most powerful merchant princes. The Septet dominate the Gilded Council, which is the true political power in Saphrona.’
‘So I’ve read,’ Lukan replied, recalling Velleras Gellame’s A Gentleman’s Guide to Saphrona. He’d managed to read nearly two-thirds of the booklet before hurling it across his cabin after one flowery metaphor too many, and had no intention of picking it up again. Grabulli was still talking, but Lukan wasn’t listening, staring instead at Saphrona’s sprawling expanse. Somewhere in there lay the answer to the question of who, or what, Zandrusa was. And why my father wrote that name in his own blood.
‘You have gone quiet, friend Lekaan,’ Grabulli said, scratching at his black beard. ‘You are lost for words, I think.’
‘It’s an impressive sight,’ Lukan admitted.
Velleras Gellame claimed that Saphrona was the greatest centre of commerce in the Old Empire, and, while the buffoon had written his treatise nearly fifty years prior, the number of vessels crowding the waters of the bay suggested his claim still rang true. As they drew closer to the city’s docks, Lukan saw trade ships from various cities of the Old Empire – Deladrin, where he himself had sailed from, Tamberlin and even distant Korslakov. There were also dhows from the Southern Queendoms, most of which bore the flag of Zar-Ghosa, three silver circles on a pale blue background. He even caught a glimpse of a sleek, crimson- sailed vessel from one of the ports of the Mourning Sea, its black, lacquered hull bearing intricate carvings. Countless flags and banners rippled in the breeze as gulls wheeled overhead.
‘I don’t think I’ve ever seen so many ships,’ Lukan said.
‘I have,’ Grabulli replied nonchalantly. ‘Though half of them were on fire. Including my own.’ He shrugged. ‘No doubt most of these are here for the celebrations. Just like us, eh?’
‘What celebrations?’
The man threw him a sharp look. ‘The Grand Restoration, of course.’ His dark eyes narrowed at Lukan’s blank expression. ‘The symbolic exchange of the Silver Spear . . . Truly, you don’t know of what I speak?’
Lukan grinned. ‘I don’t have a clue.’
‘Then what brings you to Saphrona, friend Lekaan?’ ‘Personal business,’ he replied, determined not to give anything else away. ‘But I never say no to a good knees-up. What are we celebrating?’
‘You surely know of the great war between Saphrona and Zar-Ghosa, yes?’
‘Uh, vaguely . . .’
‘A naval conflict like nothing the world has ever seen!’ the captain continued, quickly warming to his subject. ‘Hundreds of ships destroyed, thousands of gallant sailors lost on both sides! And then, during what promised to be the decisive battle—’
‘The Corsair Lord of the Shattered Isles arrived with his fleet, hoping to kill two enemies with one stone,’ Lukan said, recalling one of the few lectures he’d bothered attending at the Academy. ‘And so the Saphronans and Zar-Ghosans joined forces to defeat the corsairs. An act that ended the war.’
‘And forged a newfound peace between the cities that has lasted forty years,’ Grabulli finished, making a sweeping gesture. ‘A grand story, don’t you think?’
‘Very,’ Lukan agreed. ‘And so these celebrations . . . they’re to mark the anniversary of the war’s end?’
‘Just so. And to mark the renewal of friendship between the cities.’
‘Right. You said something about a spear?’
‘The Silver Spear!’ Grabulli’s eyes lit up. ‘A Phaeron weapon of savage beauty that once belonged to the Corsair Lord him- self, and which he wielded in the final battle. The Zar-Ghosan admiral is said to have offered the spear to his Saphronan counterpart at the battle’s end as a gesture of comradeship, and so the two cities have exchanged it every decade since, when they renew their vow of peace. This time it’s Saphrona’s turn to host the celebration, hence . . .’ He gestured to the multitude of ships in the bay.
‘So the spear is handed over, someone makes a speech and then everyone gets drunk?’
‘Just so, friend Lekaan! The ceremony is in a few days. Enough time for you to conclude your business and join the party, eh?’
‘Perhaps.’
Grabulli coughed into his fist. ‘Ah, speaking of business . . .’ He turned and snapped his fingers. The Sunfish’s quartermaster joined them at the railing, the jaunty angle of her three-cornered hat completely at odds with the scowl on her face. She held a sack, the bottom of which was stained with what could have been wine, but Lukan suspected was something else entirely. Two other crew members – hulking brutes who looked like they’d seen their fair share of tavern fights – stood behind her, eyes alert, postures tense. As if expecting trouble.
‘What’s this, Grabulli?’ Lukan asked warily, wishing he’d buckled his sword on before staggering out of his cabin.
‘We need to discuss the matter of payment, friend Lekaan. As you can see, I have delivered you to Saphrona, safe and sound.’
‘You’ll get your seven silvers. I gave you my word.’
‘Yes, well . . .’ The captain grinned wide, gold tooth flashing. ‘The price just went up.’
‘We agreed on seven silvers,’ Lukan replied, his tone hardening. ‘We shook on seven silvers, though of course I should have known that means little to a pirate.’
One of the sailors stepped forward, only to freeze as Grabulli raised a hand. ‘We also agreed,’ the captain said, ‘that you would keep your hands off the cargo in my hold. And yet, just the other day, Sandria here noticed that a crate had been tampered with, and that it seemed to contain a little less tobacco than when we left Deladrin.’
‘A lot less,’ the quartermaster put in, speaking around her scowl.
‘So you see,’ Grabulli continued, spreading his hands, ‘we have something of a problem.’
‘No problem,’ Lukan replied, with a sigh. He’d snuck into the hold in search of a bottle of something, anything that was better than the coarse rum he’d been drinking. Instead he’d found a cache of Purple Dragon, premium Parvan pipeweed, and . . . well. One cheeky smoke had turned into several dozen. ‘What can I say?’ he continued, offering Grabulli a rueful smile. ‘I guess I just fancied a taste of home.’
The captain frowned. ‘You said you were from a town near Deladrin.’
‘Ah . . .’
‘You stole from us,’ Sandria hissed, her scowl deepening. ‘Lady’s mercy, you’re pirates.’
‘Careful, friend Lekaan,’ Grabulli warned, with no trace of his usual humour.
‘All right,’ Lukan said, raising his hands. ‘I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have taken the pipeweed. Let me make amends. I’ll pay for the amount I took.’
‘Fourteen silvers.’
Lukan blinked. ‘I . . . what?’
‘Fourteen silvers,’ the captain repeated. ‘The price of your voyage just doubled, friend Lekaan.’
‘I don’t have that sort of money.’ ‘We both know that’s not true.’
‘Been spying on me in my cabin, Grabulli?’
The man’s grin returned, flashing gold. ‘There’s no secrets aboard my ship.’
‘And if I refuse to pay?’
‘We’ll toss you over the side. Nothing personal, of course.’
‘Of course.’ Lukan glanced at the distant waterfront. Not so distant now . . . ‘Doesn’t seem too bad,’ he said, with more bravado
than he felt. ‘I can swim that.’
‘You think, eh?’ Grabulli snapped his fingers again.
Sandria reached into her sack and pulled out a hunk of raw meat, blood oozing between her fingers. She stepped up to the rail and hurled it out across the water. The meat struck the waves with barely a splash. A moment later a mottled, sandy- coloured snout broke the surface, and Lukan caught a glimpse of a black eye and a grinning maw of needle-like teeth, ringed by a peculiar, loose fold of skin that almost had the appearance of a mane.
The creature disappeared back beneath the waves, taking the meat with it.
‘Lion shark,’ Grabulli said, a glint in his eye. ‘The bay is full of them. Must be the guts from the fisheries that attracts them, though no doubt the Kindred sometimes throw them a tastier morsel.’
‘The Kindred?’
‘The criminal underworld of Saphrona.’ Grabulli clapped Lukan on the back. ‘You still fancy a swim, friend Lekaan?’
‘Not as much as I fancy keeping all my limbs.’
‘Ha! Then fourteen silvers seems like a fair price for that privilege, no?’
‘Fine,’ Lukan said, meeting the captain’s gaze. ‘Fourteen sil- vers and you forget all about me. If anyone asks the name of the passenger you picked up in Deladrin, you tell them he was called . . . Dubois. Bastien Dubois.’ He held out his hand. ‘Do we have a deal?’
‘I don’t know, friend Lekaan,’ Grabulli mused, tugging at his black beard. ‘I am renowned for my long memory.’
‘Enough bullshit,’ Lukan replied, with far more conviction than he felt. ‘If you try to screw me any further I’ll take my chances with the sharks.’
Grabulli and Sandria exchanged a look. One of the brutes behind them cracked his tattooed knuckles.
For a moment Lukan thought he’d pushed it too far.
Then Grabulli laughed and seized his hand, crushing it in an iron grip as he shook vigorously. ‘Welcome to Saphrona, Master Dubois.’

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REVIEW: The Crimson Court by Brendan Noble

Set in an Eastern European-flavoured flintlock/gaslamp fantasy world where malignant spirits roam free, deadly conspiracies thrive, and magic comes at a high cost, Brendan Noble’s The Crimson Court is an utterly unique epic political fantasy perfect for fans of M.A. Carrick’s The Rook and Rose series and Thiago Abdalla’s A Touch of Light.

Now, as with any good and meticulously plotted multi-POV epic fantasy, it is nearly impossible to do the brilliance of such an ambitious story justice in a review. Yet at the same time, the premise of The Crimson Court is really rather simple: a strong-willed young noble woman with outlawed Death Reacher magic embarks upon a revenge quest to take down the elusive group of nobles that got her father killed, but soon she and her odd group of unlikely allies find themselves at the centre of an intricate web of conspiracies and schemes while a looming supernatural threat is becoming ever more dire and deadly.

There’s no denying that there are a lot of moving pieces on the board to keep track of, but somehow Noble manages to let this magnificent world unfold in the most organic way possible. Yes, the first couple of chapters might feel a bit overwhelming, but I honestly think that initial sense of bewilderment only added to the already insanely high sense of wonder and intrigue. And moreover, this really is the type of deliciously slow-burn story where having patience and full trust in the author pays off in spades by the end.

This wonderfully diverse cast of characters immediately captured my heart, and I was pleasantly surprised by how quickly I latched onto all of these lovable chaos demons, if you will. Alongside Kasia, we follow a gruff Glassblade warrior, the stubborn granddaughter to the king, a physically disabled and illegitimate noble man, and a non-binary city urchin who is way too snarky for their own good. Their distinct voices just make them leap off the page, and I loved seeing how their paths crossed in the most unexpected ways, forcing them to tentatively try to work towards a common goal despite their clashing personalities and differing personal motivations.

Through their eyes, we really get to explore this world in all its glory; both the most awe-inducing and wondrous aspects, as well as the most horrifying and ugly parts of it. Even though most of the story is set in the capital city of Kalastok, as 4 of the 5 POV characters find themselves there, Noble still managed to establish the wider world in a way that made it feel vast, grand, and so beautifully rich. All the little drops of twisted ancient history, mystifying lore, and cultural and ethnic diversity just breathed so much life into this world, and I loved letting myself get swept up into the epicness of it all.

But the true highlight of The Crimson Court was undoubtedly the incredibly imaginative interdimensional (and semi-elemental) Reacher magic system for me, which both excited and frightened me in equal measure. I am always a sucker for magic that comes at a cost, and seeing the characters having to deal with the Taint due to the overuse of their unique powers was just morbidly fascinating to me.

Moreover, I loved how intricately the magic and supernatural threats were woven into the larger political schemes that drive this narrative forward. This story is brimming with political strife on so many levels; within the noble court, between the scions and the lowborns, on an international level, and eventually even on an interdimensional level. The way that all the seemingly separate threads of this story converge into an earth-shattering climax sequence honestly had my jaw on the floor, and I loved how each new revelation completely shifted my perspective on the entire situation; I can already tell that The Crimson Court is going to be a true treat to re-read one day.

It’s honestly quite impressive how such a relatively low-action narrative managed to be so unputdownable, but Noble’s engaging storytelling just had me in a chokehold from start to finish. The simmering tension just keeps building and building, and while there are a few pulse-pounding cinematic magical action scenes, the most intense and thrilling scenes in this story to me were the constant battles of false smiles, cutting remarks, and hidden blades. I honestly ate up all the juicy bits of court gossip amongst the scions/nobles, and could not stop turning the pages to stumble upon the next scheme, betrayal, or jaw-dropping reveal.

Now, if I had one tiny little quibble with this excellent story, it would be the fact that I wanted a bit more development for some of the minor side characters that played an important role in each of these characters’ respective lives. All the big players, from the lovable goodies to the deliciously hateable baddies and to the morally grey enigmas in between, are established and drawn with exceptional skill, but some emotional beats fell a bit flat for me due to my lack of investment in the wider cast of characters.

That said, other shocking twists and turns hit me way harder than I ever could have anticipated, reaching straight for my heart and crushing it without remorse. No, this is by no means a grimdark fantasy, but don’t let that fool you into thinking that the stakes aren’t dangerously high. Noble is not afraid to put his character through the wringer and he masterfully plays around with morality, which makes The Crimson Court just an excitingly unpredictable page turner from start to finish.

Safe to say, I am incredibly impressed by this first instalment in the ambitious Realm Reachers series, and I can easily see this becoming a new favourite as this story reaches its full potential in future instalments. If you like the sound of a slow-burn yet unputdownable political fantasy filled with flawed but loveable diverse characters, A Game of Thrones–esque political scheming, looming supernatural threats, a magic system that would make Sanderson jealous, and gorgeous interior illustrations, then you have to pick up The Crimson Court. Also, it features a crystal dragon, do I really need to say more?

Thank you to the author for providing me with an eARC in exchange for an honest review. All opinions are my own. The Crimson Court is scheduled for release on 23 April 2024. 

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