Oh, no. I didn't enjoy this for a moment, and yet, if you'd told me there was a book written by someone with an excellent command of language, that mashed up Arthurian legend with Faust, the Greeks and still more myth, I'd probably have bitten your hand off to read it.
I've been trying to work out what it is I didn't love, indeed, actively disliked, and the best I can do is an analogy. It's like walking into an old shed, and on first glance, it seems rammed with stuff, full to the brim of fascinating things, and you can't wait to start investigating, pulling one thing after another off worn old shelves to see what lies beneath it, and beneath that, and you're certain you're in for the most wonderful of afternoons, but the first thing you grab is something you already own, only in worse condition, and then the second thing you get is soggy and ruined, and the third thing you find is something you hate, and, bit by bit, you realise that the shed is full of nothing you want at all, and it is extra-disappointing because you'd been so excited at the start.
I concede that, even in the beginning, the writing didn't help me - the dialogue felt tired and hollow, and the characters were irritating - and then the jumble of myth kicked in and it became, frankly, all too much for no apparent reason, other than that the author wanted to display all the things they'd known and been interested by, all at once. I just didn't understand why most of the things, and didn't feel any pull to keep turning the pages: I had to make myself finish this, and ended up doing so fairly fast, but because I wanted it to be over, rather than because I was curious about where it was going.
So, in conclusion, I don't think I'll put myself through the rest of the series, as it isn't for me. I'm not sorry to have read it, for there were a few good images and turns of phrase, and it's an interesting idea I'd always have been curious about otherwise, but, at the same time, I'll always be disappointed in what it turned out to be, having been so excited.