Fifteen days and 784 pages later, with some of the tiniest font I have seen, I finished what is probably one of the finest fantasy novels I have ever read. Third in the Malazan Book of the Fallen, Memories of Ice is considered by many fans of the series to be the finest of them. I understand that claim now, and though I have only read the first three, I am in agreement. I'm not sure that these books are review-able. I say that because the scope of each, not even taking into account the overarching narrative at play in the series, is too much to encompass in what amounts to a long blurb. All I can do is gush with words about how I feel.

For the uninitiated, the Malazan series checks off all the really good fantasy tropes. There are dragons, gods and demigods of unknowable strength and intent, magical swords of immense power, a multitude of varied races that are mostly humanoid in appearance, ancient, mysterious civilizations, magic that makes no sense but that is incredible, and snarky soldiers who make jokes and then die on the next page. That last one may be slightly more unique to Malazan than the others, but you get the idea. What Steven Erikson does differently is that he amplifies many of these things to an extreme seen nowhere else in fantasy. He is also the father of what is known as grimdark fantasy, and while I doubt he is the first to explore the darker side of human nature, he is probably the master of it. Malazan is nothing but shades of grey, with the hue mostly bending towards black. The truly good characters in these novels are incredibly rare and almost mythic in their nature. They also tend to die.

One of the tenants of Erikson's writing, and it could be said that he is the master of this, is his ability to weave together multiple narratives and have them all come together without a reader being aware of their proximity or relativity to one another, in a way that leaves eyes wide and jaws ajar. Memories of Ice is of the best in that it does this so much better than in the previous two entries. This is not to say that Gardens of the Moon or Deadhouse Gates did this poorly. Far from it, but in Memories, things come together so deafeningly that by the end I am sprawled out on the floor of my living room gasping for air and trying to find the book that fell from my trembling fingers. I exaggerate, but that is not far from the truth.

Another reason that Memories succeeds  is that the book is about the Bridgeburners, a squad of Malazan infantry that stars in the first book but who is largely absent in the second due to the events of Deadhouse Gates happening alongside those of Memories. Fans of Glen Cook will recognize influences in the Bridgeburners, who stand alongside the Black Company as some of the most lovable misfits in fantasy fiction. They're all insane, and led by a man named Whiskeyjack who, like any good father, tolerates and loves his weird children with a raised eyebrow. They are also one of the finest fighting forces in the world, and they are tested in Memories as never before. That the Bridgeburners will likely not be in any subsequent novels saddens me, though I feel that they will have a predecessor company to fill their shoes.

In brief, Memories of Ice is the tale of two sieges. Capustan and Coral have been captured by a religious zealot called the Pannion Seer whose army survives by eating its enemies. This is the grimdark part. It does not pull any punches and dives into the worst elements and potentials of human nature. The siege of Capustan is the tale of a horde overwhelming the defense and of a ragtag band of mercenaries and conscripts who manage the impossible. The siege of Coral reads more like the siege of Minas Tirith, but with plenty of secret surprises thrown in: the odds are more fair, but nothing ever goes to plan. There is something romantic about siege warfare. I have always enjoyed reading about it in books like Return of the King and Druss, and loved playing games where sieges played an important role. Some of my favorite memories involve defending castles in Dark Age of Camelot. Memories of Ice stands up there with the best and offers us viewpoints on both the besieged and those battering down the walls.

Aside from the Malazans, new characters are introduced in Memories that I hope will live on in the series. Gruntle, a name I never would have dreamed up but that somehow seems to work for the character, has a story arc that is fascinating to follow. He transforms, quite literally at one point, and though he is the same cynical mercenary in the end that he was in the beginning, he changes in important enough ways to make the journey worthwhile. His frenemy, Stonny Menackis, is also a character who I expect to see more from as there are several scenes where it is hinted that she may evolve into something bigger. Their vicious banter is a highlight of the story. Itkovian is another superstar of the book, and stands out as one of the most noble and self-sacrificing characters in Malazan history. Itkovian is a white character, without a doubt, and his is a story of redemption, not of himself but of those he comes into contact with. If a Christ character could be said to exist within the world of Malaz, Itkovian fits that mold. And I would be remiss if I didn't mention Bauchelain and Korbal Broach, weird and mysterious sorcerers whose purpose is never made clear but who are delightful to read about every time they appear on the page. They are villains, but really likable ones (much like Mr. Croup and Mr. Vandemar from Neverwhere, disgusting but fun).

The world of Malaz stands out in the fantasy genre, even if it is one of those series that people either love or hate. The writing is dense, the vocabulary often odd enough that a dictionary is required to even verify if a world is real, and there are more characters to keep track of than in Game of Thrones, but if you can dive down into that morass of complication, this is truly one of the most rewarding pieces of literature to swim around in. There is not a question of me continuing the series. Rather, it's recharging enough to withstand another entry because they beat you up and leave you stumbling around in a daze every time. I am worried that nothing will stand up to Memories of Ice, but it doesn't need to.

Even though this is only the second book in the series, I have this expectation when I open up a Raven's Mark book that at some point, a crow will claw its way out of Ryhalt Galharrow's arm, and in that moment I will feel a mixture of revulsion and glee because there is something exciting about that violent act. It's as though, until it happens, we are simply reading a book about a man going on with his life - a normal, albeit grimy, life that involves darker things than most of us are used to, but fairly normal. But then the crow emerges and so too does the memory that there is nothing normal here and that what you are in fact reading is a grimdark fantasy novel where magic hurts and part of the world is already destroyed with the rest in peril. I like that. McDonald times his crowmergence (feel free to use that, Ed) quite well in each of the first two books, Blackwing and Ravencry, and I know that once it happens, the world of Galharrow and his buddies is about to get much crazier.

One might wonder how things could get much crazier than they were at the end of Blackwing. Ezabeth Tanza, the scarred love of Galharrow's life, sacrifices herself to save the besieged city of Valengrad, seeming to disintegrate into the very motes of light surrounding the metropolis. The Nameless converge to battle a Deep King, a clash larger than even the city itself, and somehow Galharrow, Nenn, and Tnota all survive. They are changed, but alive. Four years later, Valengrad is mostly rebuilt, the trauma all that remains, and things move apace. Galharrow has formed an agency of sorts, Blackwing, that serves as a spy network/private investigation company and is enjoying a modicum of success in large part due to his recognized heroics from the prior book.

Ryhalt can't sleep though because whenever he closes his eyes, he sees Her again, his dear Ezabeth, arms outstretched in a halo of light. It is not as pleasant a vision as it should be. What's odd about these visions is that he is not the only one. People are seeing a "Bright Lady" at various points across the city, often in conjunction with the phos light system of magic that powers much of it. It does not take long before an entire religion emerges from these visions, as it would, and even less time for the stability of the city to be threatened.

Blackwing was a book that introduced fantasy readers to some very bizarre concepts, which while not completely original, had enough new elements to make them stand out above the pack. The Misery is an area unlike any other in fantasy, a mystical geography that often changes, is never safe, and stands as both a terror-inducing nightmare just outside city walls and also its best shield against the horrors of the Deep Kings and their drudge citizenry. This no man's land played a large role in Blackwing, and I was worried that in Ravencry it would take a back seat. It does for much of the novel, but as one can glean from the book blurb above, it becomes more important than ever at the apex of the narrative. I am not sure if it was some skill of McDonald's or a random confluence of mental events that led me to desiring the very thing that McDonald had Galharrow do towards this section of the book, but either way it was very satisfying.

But one of the problems in writing a sequel wherein your unknowns are largely known is giving your readers something new to discover. I was worried about Ravencry's ability to do this. There were aspects of Blackwing that shocked me in their creativity and depravity. The Brides, in particular, were not something I had ever envisioned and frankly never needed to. The Darlings were also a terrifying vision of what happens when a child is warped into something beyond imagination - a Chucky doll but much, much worse. Ravencry does not blast us with these viscerally blaring monsters, at least not in the new sense. There is one familiar Darling, and a few others, but the monsters we encounter in the book are known foes. Even the big bad villain is someone we've met before, and while none of this information is inherently bad, it does remove a bit of wonder from what is a very strange world.

That's not to say that there isn't much about Ravencry worth reading, and by the end I was fully on board with the events therein. The idea of a religious cult taking over, however it happens, is something many of us can both envision and fear - even when the figurehead around which this cult forms is someone with whom we sympathize. The aforementioned villain is a bit of a disappointment, not necessarily because they aren't terrifying, but rather because they are largely absent until the very end, and we are left with proxy faces to despise instead of the real thing.

Ravencry also suffers from the middle book syndrome, being the second part of a trilogy, and there have probably not been many middle books that have ever eclipsed their former or latter entries. It is a limbo in which events for the next book must be put in motion - a book that will be the penultimate in the series and likely end it. That is not an easy position, but Ravencry does manage to be engrossing from cover to cover, and that's really all we can ask of it. It also does something vital to both the series and to the final book, and that is to allow Galharrow a transformation. I won't go into that, but it's strange and welcome in such a dark world, and not at all what anyone might expect.

I have liked and enjoyed both of these Raven's Mark books, while not loving them, but if the plot of the third book that is hinted at in this one lives up to my now-high expectations, I suspect I will love Crowfall. I am eager to read it and to see where McDonald is heading with this series.

The world McDonald has built is not one that can simply be wrapped up, in large part due to the massive figures moving around and within it. Ryhalt Galharrow and even Ezabeth Tanza are minor figures when compared to the near-deities that are the Deep Kings and Nameless. This means that we won't have a Wheel of Time style ending where everything is sealed up and all is good. Chances are the dark will stay dark and we will see the end of one man's story, and that is exactly what we should get.