“I’m going to tell you everything.”
“I want to know.”
“It’s not a happy story.”
“I think I’m ready,” he said.
“I think you think that. But it’s sadder than you think.”

2020 reread: Previously, I didn’t like this as much because the first book does feel more literary and subversive, and just a lot more clever at a macro level, craft wise. This book is an excellent pairing with the first though, as the main themes are extended and annunciated brilliantly, and Julia is, intentionally, a better character with a much more meaningful story—even though I, personally, remember myself at Quinton’s age and that makes his story extremely impactful to me. I just really like the limitations of the soft magic system in these books. It comes from adversity and pain and trauma, with the possibility of transformation at great cost. It’s something that innately makes sense to me because that’s how the world works. Not everyone with trauma can move forward and unfortunately the trauma cycle creates predators as depicted in this book—and that can mean the end of that person as they were before, but it isn’t over for them, either. It’s, again, verisimilitude and the author encoding, seemingly, their own truths in the story that’s being told. Love it or hate it, it makes it more interesting, to me, than 99% of the world out there.

I always like how the fiction in this most resembles the real world. Things are always more impactful when writers put themselves out there on paper. It’s a little messy sometimes, but I prefer it.

Once again, since everything is either from Quinton or Julia’s perspectives, both, at times, can be unlikeable. There’s no filter at all. Even the surface bullshit thoughts nobody voices are there in this method and can be off putting.

But I find it refreshing. The world isn’t fair by a long shot. Traditional notions around the hero are examined. It has something to say in a unique voice, in a take-it-or-leave-it way.

It’s a lot less literary/contemporary than the first book and has a capital p plot, grounding the narrative, which is both good and bad for expectations. There’s a lot more self awareness and humour that doesn’t do much for me. But the ending really hits for me—even on this reread when I knew what was going to happen. It’s a polarizing book yet again; for different reasons than the first, though.

It’s one of my favourite fantasy series because it’s way of connecting with the reader is unlike anything I’ve read. I care about the characters in ways I rarely do in others, and as I say, the guy puts himself out there in the work. For me, it’s fantastic.

Be warned though. Much more Heavy subject matter in this one. Self harm, sexual assault. The tone shifts. It’s not always dark, but it’s never what I’d call a casual, super fun casual fantasy read (as I wouldn’t call the first either).