I didn't realise it diving in, but this is a YA novel from an author known for them. She did well with her debut, 'A Death-Struck Year', set during the Spanish flu pandemic of 1918, did better still with the 'Tower of Winds' duology and now she's back with the plague in 'Year of the Reaper'. And that was all written before COVID-19, even if this one didn't come out until 2021, when it was in deadly motion. I wonder if Lucier is as fascinated by plagues now and how she might phrase another book set during one.
This is a fantasy novel, so we don't recognise anywhere. We spend our time in Oliveras, a country that's been at war with its neighbour, Brisa, for half a century, only for plague to arrive just as its leaders have figured out a way to peace. Princess Jehan of Brisa is on her way to marry King Rayas of Oliveras as their party is struck with the disease and that's our cliffhanging prologue. Already, before I'd got to know anyone, I'd realised how smooth this is to read. Lucier has a swift pen and it begs us to keep turning those pages, quicker and quicker as we go.
And I did that. I blinked and I was a hundred and twenty pages in. I devoured it in a mere couple of nights and never felt rushed. It works on every level: worldbuilding, always an important start to a fantasy novel; character, as we soon discover when we meet Cas and Lena, but also a whole slew of supporting players; and mystery, because there's one big one of those that manifests quickly and a whole slew of smaller ones to keep us busy.
Cas is his preferred name, though he'll accept Cassia. Really, he's Lord Cassiapeus, from Palmerin. His father and brother are both called Ventillas and the former is a good friend of the king. That's enough to tell us that he's an important man, but he's a wreck when we first meet him, and for the best of reasons. As a young engineer's apprentice, he was grabbed in Oliveran lands by the enemy and kept prisoner for three years, during which time he was beaten, whipped and treated in ways unbecoming to his station. He caught but did not die of the plague, though it eventually led to his escape, and now he's riding home to Palmerin with PTSD, not knowing that the royal court is now in residence in his family's estate, Palmerin Keep.
Similarly, the young lady who steals his horse on the road and whom he soon saves from a plague-ridden lynx, isn't just Lena, as she introduces herself, but Lady Analena, a historian in training on her way to join the court, given that she's also King Rayan's sister. It's pretty obvious immediately that there's a strong connection between these two young people and it's not hard to see where that's going to go, but there's some time before we get there.
For now, I should point out that Lena is able to steal Cas's horse because he's stopped on the road to take care of something. You see, he can see and converse with the dead, an ability that's never truly explained but presumably ties to how close he came to joining them. So, when one stops him and tells his story, Cas has the decency to bury him. Nobody else has, because the plague has been carving a swathe through the landscape and labour is in short supply. And so Cas takes care of the work here.
There's more to tell in this deceptively straightforward scene, beyond the easy opportunity for a horse thief, but we don't realise it until later when it bears fruit. Lucier is a dab hand at sneaking in details in ways that we don't acknowledge as important as we're reading them but somehow retain for the moments when they turn out to be later. That happens a lot, so pay attention. You can thank me later.
The other crucial detail is that Cas is welcomed home as a hero, not just because he was captured and tortured for his country, but because he arrives in Palmerin just in time to dive into the river and rescue a baby, when its mother is subject to an assassination attempt. That's Queen Jehan, a lady who's very thankful for Cas's service, as is her husband, King Rayas, who now owes him a debt. Ah yes, you're starting to see the foreshadowing!
Well, let's just say that everything unfolds with a natural flow using consistent logic and firm use of those details I talked about above, but there's something that I still missed and you might do likewise, so allowing Lucier to add a twist to her tale just when it's going to have the most effect. This is one of the best twists I've read in a long while and, because I now know it, I can't return to experience it again, so I'll have to do that vicariously through you.
If you don't pay attention and just blitz through this book like the easy read it is, then you'll have an enjoyable time and everything will make perfect sense but you'll also miss a lot. If you do pay attention, Lucier will reward you with added depth.
For instance, we don't see the plague ravage the landscape here, because this isn't a horror novel, but we do see how Oliveras is changed due to its work. It's worth mentioning that the biggest hero in the book isn't really Cas, though he is definitely worthy of being called a hero; it's Gaspar, who's the much maligned city inspector in Palmerin, who's working diligently to keep the rat population down, even though nobody else takes stories of fleas on rats carrying plague seriously. Take a wild stab as to which city escapes the worst of the plague?
For another, there's a huge amount of social comment here that's mostly hidden within character development or interaction. There's a lot about class, though Lucier never preaches to us, just as she doesn't emphasise how some of the pivotal characters are women, one major character is gay and, given the cover, it's likely that few of them are white. Here, they're just characters and ones that we care about quickly and deeply, because of what they do or what they've gone through or who they've lost. They're human beings and we instinctively sympathise with them, at least if we happen to be human beings too.
I want more from this world, but Lucier tells her story and she's done. There's no need for this to become a series. If it does, it should be through Lucier introducing us to different characters in a different land, maybe Brisa, which is painted a little overtly villainous here. That's a minor flaw in a magnificent novel though. I envy your ability to read it for the first time. ~~ Hal C F Astell
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