You'll always get me with a new work by Steven Brust. He has a sharp eye for the human condition, a real talent for snark, a penchant for saying interesting things, and a tendency to play around with the format of his stories to see what works. From the period-stylings of The Khaavren Romances to the thriller beats of The Good Guys, there's an impressive range there. But the heart of it, for me, is Vlad Taltos, and the saga of the Jhereg. Taltos has been a lot of things. Thug. Killer. Father. Fugitive. And we've seen him weave in and out of his story, switching point sin his personal timeline with him, picking up the pieces that fall off the stories he tells, trying to work out what's been happening, and what's coming next. We've seen the younger man planning murders, the older one standing in the ruins of his marriage, and the, ahem, even older one, rebuilding his life in a world that still isn't built for him, in an Empire that hates him for who he is, with gods playing the long game, friends with their own problems (like being an immortal vampire sorceress) and, well, you know, all those people trying to kill him.
Which is where Lyorn comes in. Vlad is back, baby. Back in Adrilankha, city by the sea, where he used to run a medium-sized criminal operation, and occasionally kill people. Back in the Empire of Dragaera, run by seven foot tall elves with access to sorcery, who regard him as a short-lived inconvenience. Back in close proximity to old friends, old loves, and old enemies. And, it turns out, in a theatre. The theatre is where he's hiding out, due to the aforementioned old enemies, while a few deals go down which, hopefully, keep him alive. And, in traditional Vlad style, he can't resist poking into other people's problems - or they can't resist involving him. The theatre itself is beautifully built. Every line adds some texture, some history, tells you about stories, about drama, about why the players company exists, who they are, what they need - and why being able to tell their stories, to live their needs, is important. Not just for them, but for everyone. For individuals, and Empires. Because stories have power, especially the ones we tell ourselves. Look at Vlad, who has reinvented himself more times than I have hats, who now just wants to build a life. Look at him as he walks through a theatre, sword at his hip, Jhereg on his shoulders, righting wrongs almost by reflex, and doing it because it's not just the right thing to do, but the necessary thing.
And that's before those old enemies come into play, getting rather aggressive in their efforts to drag him out of hiding.
At this point in the Jhereg series, you're either starting fresh here, or asking if this one is worth the investment you put into the previous books in the series. If you're coming in new. Hmm. Vlad is smart and funny and oblique, and has a lot of old friends you may not be familiar with. Sit with him as he figures out, from inside a theatre-shaped bottle, how to save his friends and himself without dying first. You're going to see some high quality schemes, some delightful banter, and occasional bouts of knife-edge action. If you're coming in as a fan though...you're probably starting to see different pieces of Vlad's past falling into place. You can see a larger game that's been playing out across the entire series and is starting to come to fruition. But you'll also see a familiar, late-period Vlad, still struggling to figure out who he is, but absolutely determined not to let anyone else tell him either. A man accustomed ot action, now having to acclimatise himself to thinking, planning, and patience. Being the person holding the blade, and not the tip of the blade itself. Lyorn is a story about the law, and about honour, and about what society is willing to accept and what it isn't - and it's a story about saving lives and yourself.
In short, it's a Taltos story, and a really good one, at that. If you're unfamiliar, give it a try (or go read Jhereg!). If you're a fan - yes, you're going to want this one.
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