House of Frost and Feathers is a haunting, magical, and quietly powerful fantasy story that wraps Slavic folklore, slow burn friendship, and eerie winter vibes into one beautifully atmospheric book. This is a tale best enjoyed slowly, maybe with a warm drink, on a cold day because it reads like a snow dusted dream.

The story follows two very different but equally compelling girls: Marisha, desperate and grieving, and Olena, brilliant but guarded. Both end up in service to the mysterious and formidable witch Baba Zima, working together (somewhat reluctantly at first) to uncover the mystery behind a sleeping plague that strikes every ten years. I loved how their relationship evolved, from distant and distrustful to something resembling hard won loyalty and care. The emotional depth in their dynamic was easily one of my favorite parts.

The world itself was absolutely stunning. The walking house, the folkloric magic, the sense of creeping cold and ancient secrets is all so vivid. I’m a sucker for Slavic mythology, and while it took me a minute to separate this version of Baba Zima from the traditional Baba Yaga in my head, once I did, I really appreciated how Wiesebron carved out her own vision of this world.

That said, this is a slow read. Not in a bad way, but it just leans more on atmosphere, character, and vibes than action or romance (which is minimal and honestly could’ve been left out entirely). There were parts in the middle that dragged a bit for me, and the writing style sometimes got repetitive or overly descriptive. Still, there’s a quiet strength to the prose, and the payoff toward the end felt worth the build up. The ending left me wanting just a bit more but maybe that’s because I wasn’t ready to leave this world yet.

One thing worth noting: the book explores disability in a very central way, especially through Olena’s character. It’s clear the author wanted to dive into the complexities of how disability is seen and experienced in this world. While I appreciated the intention and the themes being addressed, there were definitely moments where the execution could’ve been more nuanced, especially in how Olena’s personality often felt entirely shaped by her trauma and appearance. I think there’s a powerful message at the core, but it didn’t always land as sensitively or fully realized as I hoped.

Still, for those who love a story rich in folklore, filled with prickly and strong willed characters, and rooted in themes of healing, secrecy, and strange magic, this book is absolutely worth a read. Think The Bear and the Nightingale meets Labyrinth with a touch of Naomi Novik’s dayt o day magical rhythms. It may not be for everyone, but if the idea of a snowy, eerie fairytale full of magic, mystery, and unlikely sisterhood speaks to you, then you’ll likely enjoy this one as much as I did.

Thank you to NetGalley, Lauren Wiesebron, and Avon Harper Voyager for the eARC of this book.