I have eagerly awaited this book, even before finishing the first. It hasn’t disappointed. From the moment it opened on Emperor Agnephus, I was thrilled. An ever-present presence in the first book, sowing division from miles away, it was fascinating to get this glimpse into him. The expansion of perspectives was one of my favourite parts of the book. Each an intriguing new thread in a deliciously tangled weave. 

These threats wouldn’t be near as effective if not for the pure joy of witnessing Tresingale becoming, however. You could almost forget the dangers at times and simply revel in the joy of Remin’s dream coming to life, and the hard work of Ophele and their people becoming real. It’s so satisfying. And Remin and Ophele’s relationship too. They’re so comfortable with one another and it’s just great seeing him finally give up his hardened stoicism to laugh with her in public. Even though both are still haunted, their unwavering support and love for each other brought me such pleasure and I was so happy to be able to laugh at their antics. 

I loved Ophele’s growth. Her quick mind. Her determined work. She began to really find her voice here, even as her insecurities rose up to drown her. I’m eager to see where her freedom from those anxious shackles will take her. 

Politics and the past aren’t the only threats and the sudden shift is devastating. A shadow that’s hung over the narrative from the pinnacle of horror in Traitor Son, the tension of being under assault by devils and the chance they could slip away is perfection. Even as we learn more about them, they’re tantalisingly mysterious and I cannot wait to see what comes of this new encounter. 

While I loved the slower moments of getting to see festivals and religion, Stardust Child falls just short of perfection. The Benki Desans are an interesting new element and I appreciate this glimpse of other cultures in the world. While I wouldn’t exactly call them stereotypes, I did find them cringe. Nonetheless this is an incredibly readable book, with an enthralling depth of world, thrilling dangers and engaging politics, and I loved it. 

Thanks to Melissa J. Cave for the arc. I leave this review voluntarily. 

The prose is lovely and pulled me in right away. I'm fond of pining and Mateo's for Anders just hits that sweet spot though Ianira is a fascinating character that I'm sad not to see more of. There's a wonderful juxtaposition between the ecological destruction wrought, the suffocatingly cramped bathyscaphe, the tension between the characters and hope and wonder. 

 The difficulty that at times arises with digital reading is how well this reflects the intended experience. Hornberg’s opening is a lovely hand-written invitation into the world of gardening made tricky by the size of various screens. Unfortunately this doesn’t improve as the book progresses. Its pages often instead growing more crowded with illustrations and explanations.

I thought the illustrations were charming and playful. The birds in their air balloon exporting seeds, for one. I enjoyed the circus page where the animals were named after plants and found that to be engaging. The plants themselves are drawn very well and I wasn’t left wanting or unsure of what was being discussed.

From presenting information about pine cones in the guise of a pirate guide, Picture A Garden does convey its wealth of knowledge in fun ways. But it does sometimes stray out of its realm of knowledge to do so. The pot shot at historical hygiene practices is pure stereotype and the dress historian in me finds that frustrating. 

Thanks to iRead Book Tours and Linda Hornberg for the review copy. I leave this review voluntarily.