Shawn Speakman (ed.) - Unbound II

Unbound II is, perhaps unsurprisingly, the second fantasy anthology in Shawn Speakman's Unbound series. The first was filled with innovative, impressive work from writers more-and-less familair, so I had some high hopes for this one. And I tell you what, it delivers. There's an impressive breadth of talent on display here. And that talent is put in across a variety of stories, united, somewhat in their theme of freedom, authorial and character. I'm going to avoid delving in on a story by story basis, simply because there were so many stories, and so much content, and frankly,  it would be easy to get lost in the weeds.

But for me, looking at an anthology, the first question is going to be, is there anything here I know I'm going to like? And you know what, in this case, there is. Shawn writes a story from his own universe. Mark Lawrence gives us a Jorg Ancrath story of all things. There's Jon Sprunk, running a tale in the same universe as his Shadow Son series. And there's a new Dune story from Herbert and Anderson. Thats a wealth of heavy hitters, in different spaces, and they'll probably delight with a new variant on their greatest hits.

As an aside, I thought Lawrence's story, Solomon, which included a sharply edged Ancrath, a baby, and a chest full of gold, was wonderful. Twined through with fraught emotional beats, hard choices, and more than a little of the old ultraviolence. Worth the price of admission on its own/ But I digress.

There's also stories from some fantastic writers trying out something new, rather than revisiting what they're known for. I particularly enjoyed Anna Smith-Spark's exploration of a knight who was reliant on her horse to get around, who lived the reality of the honourable knight-errant of the mind, while refusing to conform to the expectation of what a knight should look like. It was heartfelt, emotional, and, again, rather lethal. The same could be said of Anna Stephen's Heart-Eater, which packs so much depth of setting and emotional content into such a small space; both stories were an absolute joy, and cement the anthology as one which has some serious chops.

It also steps away from the sprawling epics common in SF&F to look at the personal; part of that comes across in the stories above. Even the Dune one is, at heart, character-driven. Adrian Tchaikovsky gives us Sandra, a story which is about relationships and technology and the way in which the future slowly builds out, though whether to a crescendo or a whimper is for you to decide. In any case it, and indeed the other stories in this collection, have a feeling of intimacy. Of looking at the constraints of a short story, and trying to bring an honesty to their stories within that space. Of saying, look here, there's power in emotion, there's pwoer in how we think of ourselves and why and in the way we let ourselves be or refuse to be defined. So lets talk about that. And lets do it with fae and lets do it with Harkonnen and lets do it with mermaids, of sorts, and lets do it with high tech and lets do it with magic, and you know what, lets wrap that bundle of stories up and say this is important.

Because you know what, there's a lot of stories here, and I mentioned a handful. There were some that didn't really hit for me, and some that were, you know, fine. But they were all trying to be free, to show us people and who they are and why and do it with the quiet stiletto of narrative truth. The stories feel real because they are true, and vice versa - even the ones I wasn't sold on.

So anyway. There's a lot here. Some of it will work for you. Some won't. But all of it will be trying to reach you, to make you understand, to make you feel, and feel free. And that's worth a lot.

The Bloodstained Shade - Cass Morris

 

I'm going to say up front that I think Cass Morris is an author who I think deserves more exposure. Her dialogue is snappy, her descriptions always give you enough detail to build out a lush, intriguing world without being overwhelming. Her characters feel like people, with real thoughts, feelings and oh my opinions of their own, and her stories have that elusive capacity to keep you turning pages to see what happens next. I've been talking about her work for years now, and I really, really want the tl;dr of this review to be: this is an excellent book in an excellent series, and you should go now and read both. 

With that out of the way, lets move on to The Bloodstained Shade in particular. Set in the alternate history of Aven, a Rome where magic is very real, and where mages exist throughout society, the narrative focuses on Latona of the aristocratic family Vitelliae, as she attempts to unravel an apocalyptic conspiracy at the heart of the city's government. It does also venture further afield, into warfare and diplomacy with other peoples out in the provinces, with Sempronius, a man who leads legions, does so rather illegally by being a secret magic-user, and does both of those things while being in love with Latona. But while we do get chapters from his point of view, and while I always enjoy the kinetic, fiercely physical feelings of tension that the author brings to her battle scenes, the focus of the story feels more tightly on Aven and environs than in other volumes of the series.

Fortunate, then, that Aven, the city, is a star all its own. From the graffiti-laden streets run by concerns of armed men, to the luxurious villas of the aristocracy, part sunroom, part fortress, to the austere, echoing halls of power that are the senate, the city has a grit, a grime and an energy that makes it feel alive. The same is true of the outskirts - the fields where returning legions camp, the quiet guesthouses whose hosts may or may not also be jailers. Therre's a vitality to Aven, a raw feeling of a melting pot on the move, that you can feel between the spaces of the words. That said, it's also a city in tension with itself; while diversity of peoples may ensure a better city, there's certainly people on hand who want to push back on that notion, to go back to the Good Old Days, which happen to have been good for them, rather than anyone else. There's an undercurrent of fear, of distrust, of wrestling with the pace of change. All concerns which may sound very familiar to the modern reader! Anyway, this is a long way of saying that there's texture and context to the world that Morris is building here. We known enough, even from a Hollywood history of Rome, to fill in some of the details, but what she makes explicit is exciting, intriguing, and most importantly, feels real. 

The same is broadly true of the characters. I don't want to delve too deep for the sake of spoilers, but I will say that Latona has grown, here/ A woman looking for a role, stepping out of the shadow of expectations of others, has found it and is now pushing at the boundaries of society around her. Pushing back with an ideal of decency and service to the good. That evolution is the natural culmination of two previous books worth of effort, and the character fills it out perfectly. She's confident in herself, but cognizant of and coping with the fractures running through her emotions, through the trauma in her past. Latona is a power in her own right, now, but she's a person, wrapped in as much nonsense and damage as anyone else - often considerably more. But she's capable of strength and virtue and, let us say it loudly, kicking butt. She's a great one to follow around. 

In this she's aided by a sterling cast of supporting characters, many of whom she's related to They all have their own agenda, their own needs and wants and desires and hatreds and loves. There's a delightfully gentle sapphic romance at one point that kept making me smile because oif both how awkward and how genuine it felt, and there's confrontations with antagonists that make you reel back in horror and long for the catharsis of their defeat. Incidentally, I want to say that Corinna, one of the main antagonists, a mage herself of no small distinction, is an excellent nemesis, a dark, broken mirror of Latona, someone as unwilling to accept the bounds society places on her, but perhaps even more willing to go further, to ends less salubrious. Every time she was on the page was a skin crawlingly evil joy.

And the story...again, no spoilers. But it ramps up well, pages of ratcheting tension keeping you going, dipping into battles and conspiracies and betrayals and revelation in equal measure. It's a story of women fighting expectations, and a story with magic in the air and blood on the floor. It's a story of government and grace. It's a story that you won't want to put down - and nor should you. Go read it, right now!