I can’t remember why I got this. I find myself reading a lot of genre fiction these days, but this one was better than many and most. A sort of fairy tale and a sort of new world myth (travelers take the ‘Crossing’ to a new land to build a utopia; science doesn’t always work, but some magic does; the Crossing is in the distant past and things have… evolved?… into a traditional, medieval-style fantasy world, with some tweaks like pre-Crossing books, including The Hobbit and cigarettes).

The political machinations remind me a little of The Hundred Thousand Kingdoms (perhaps not a coincidence that both are written by women and both feature female protagonists who are described as being plain-looking). Magic-wise, there are summoned demon-like creatures and a pair of necklaces (best compared to the titular elfstones of The Elfstones of Shannara).

At less than four hundred pages, it feels almost short and I read it in just a few days, once I started it (the novel had been sitting, unread, on my Nook for months). I’ll certainly read the sequel (and maybe very soon; I’ve got a trip to see family in Arkansas coming up and it could be a nice option for the flight). If I have criticism, it’s that, at times, it can almost feel like YA. I don’t think it is, or rather, I don’t think it was marketed as such, but it comes close. Though I say that having not really read much recently. I read the first few Harry Potter books (and did not love them; didn’t dislike them, but didn’t love them), but that’s really it. No Hunger Games, no Twilight. I have been known to reread a favorite Narnia novel, but that’s it.

So, for the second time in recent memory, I have finished a four volume fantasy series only to see all the author’s hard work undone by some confusing, poorly explained deus ex machina(s).

These books were generally fun, with rival gods, an army of incredibly skilled and physically powerful soldiers, some interesting characters and decently drawn, if not incredibly well described, milieu.

Not only was the character we’d most come to identify with and see as the hero (Merros Dulver, if you care) largely marginalized, but the… solution, I’d guess you call it, was accomplished by a brain damaged minor character who did so by means of having (along with two other people) acquired more or less god-like powers by means… well, I really don’t know. Something was described, but not very well, so I really can’t say.

There seemed to be a hint that Moore would be writing more books in a related series in this fantasy world he’s created, but, honestly, he lost me. Won’t be reading them.

They’re doing a whole series of Hannah-Barbera movies! Unfortunately, they’re starting out with another Scooby Doo, which I can entirely do without, but I am already psyched about the presumably upcoming movies: “Thundarr the Barbarian,” “Space Ghost” and “The Herculoids.” They should probably do the last one first, because nothing guarantees a hug opening weekend like an armadillo triceratops that shoots exploding meteors from its horns. And to those of you who think I’m being sarcastic, ask someone who has known me longer and they will tell you that I am being one hundred percent serious because Thundarr is a post-apocalyptic barbarian with a mutant horse and light saber and the Herculoids have, in addition to the meteor shooting triceratops, also have a flying dinosaur that shoots lasers from its eyes. They also have glow in the dark play-doh, but that never the biggest selling point for me.

With the fourth and final book of Greg Keyes’ Kingdom of Thorn and Bone quartet, the shark got well and completely jumped. I mean, there were hints in the third book, The Blood Knight, but in this one, Fonzie put on a pair of rocket propelled water skies and leaped across a flooded Grand Canyon filled with prehistoric sharks and Dick Cheney.

The first two book established an interesting, if not terribly original world. But as the third one hurtled to its conclusion, you could see things unraveling.

This one suddenly had plot twists that were completely unforeshadowed and not in a cool, ‘I didn’t see that coming way,’ but in a ‘wait, so everyone and everything in the last three hundred pages is now the exact opposite of what they were in the first thousand pages?’ Insufficiently explained deus ex machina, magical fights that were poorly described and confusing. And I don’t even really know what exactly a whole bunch of major (in the sense of having taken up a lot of total page space) characters did to contribute to the final… victory?

Let’s get this out of the way: the series is inexplicably compelling. It’s well written for genre fiction, but no one is going to be replacing their bust of Goethe with one of Keyes (nor even their bust of Asimov or Lovecraft, though the later’s horrific racism might inspire them to replace it with someone else [I would suggest the great queer African-American science fiction writer, Samuel Delany]). Which is all a way of saying I enjoyed.

But that’s not going to stop me from proceeding to criticize it.

Because the plot of getting out of control. Too many twists and turns. Worse, they weren’t foreshadowed in the previous two novels or even earlier in this, the third book. The side switching and occult (in both the sense of being hidden, cryptic, and confusing and in the sense of being related to cultic magic) conspiracies that start piling up like a rush hour crash were overwhelming and left a bad taste in my mouth that spoiled some of my earlier enjoyment.

Nonetheless, the next volume will be arriving and put on hold for me at my local library later this week. I’m going to finish this d–n series.

Against my better judgment, I liked this book much more than it deserved to be liked. In its (and my defense), it is better than the first book in the series, The Briar King. Among other things, it is shorter. It’s not short, but contemporary fantasy authors seem determined to publish nothing with less than five hundred pages anymore. And it’s developing a nicely creepy conspiracy. There’s almost an element of horror creeping. Not really, but you can see… not so much the influence of Lovecraft, but the influence of writers who were themselves influenced by Lovecraft. So, indirectly and a couple steps removed. But it’s still there.

Somewhere, I’d read a recommendation of this novel. And, it’s a pretty good fantasy novel. Just the right amount of variation from the traditional tropes, while staying within the recognizable framework. It doesn’t change the genre or break new ground (indeed, it’s a product of a post-Glen Cook fantasy world; if you don’t know who Glen Cook is, imagine a bloodier, darker Game of Thrones), but it’s well paced and enjoyable.

One interesting bit: two of the major characters are ugly. That may not sound like much, but there are a lot of handsome heroes in fantasy land. The most prominent protagonist if a torturer in his mid-thirties who was himself so tortured (while a POW) that he can’t eat solid food, walk without pain, nor pee standing up. The legendary warrior and swordsman is very deliberately not described until three quarters of the way through, when another character reacts in shock upon seeing him: he’s so scarred that his eyes and mouth seem out of whack and his nose a thing of mishealed and mangled cartilage. He’s a big, brooding, bruised, and battered boxer.

This is a trilogy and I’ll probably see if I can’t find book two at the library, but it’s not a priority.