Saevus continues to be, well, who they've always been. A wry, apologetic protagonist, who refuses to flinch away from the decisions they make, even when those decisions are appalling, or selfish, or sometimes both. Saevus Corax is not a very nice man. But he's charming, and very, very clever - sufficiently so that most of his ideas look like they're the right thing to do, when you get down to it. And if they're a multi-layered shell game with a gambit buried on a gambit buried on a gambit - well, surely this time you've figured out what he's up to. Surely this time you won't be the collateral damage in his life. And sometimes...sometimes that's true. Sometimes you're going to make some money and walk away clean, And sometimes a very apologetic man is going to have to rip your throat out with his teeth, as step fifteen of an escape plan that's step forty of a plan to take over an Empire that's step ninety in a plan to be left alone. Because that reads like Corax, to me. He always says he wants a quiet life, but he's always surrounded by forces that act on him, that force his agency. He claims this of course, but whether he could get what he wanted in other ways, who knows. Maybe he wants answers, maybe he wants an ending. It's...an opaque question, even if this story lifts the veil on it somewhat. We've known since the first book that Corax is defined by an interstitial moment, when he killed his brother., Possibly accidentally. Even he isn't sure. Whether that matters, well, it matters to him. Maybe trying to find a way out of that moment is what's get Corax in the whirlpool, stopping him from cutting his throat or meditative retreat - because he wants to know, or at least, to decide, who he is, and that moment is clouded enough that it's hard to say for sure. Much like the person surrounding it, that killing is arcane, occluded. Well, here's some more of the story of the past and the now, showing us who Corax used to be, and, well deciding who he is now.
All of this is done against a backdrop of, if not war, at least not yet, then simmering tensions coming to a boil. Corax has been at the right place the right time in the last few books, keeping civilisation away from catastrophe mostly as a means of preserving his own skin. But time rolls on, and people just can't seem to keep themselves away from a good civilisation-shattering roar. And maybe Corax doesn't want to, need to, stop this one. In part that's due to his own connections - the antagonistic, business-like friendships and camaraderie he shares with his gang of salvagers, always shocked they'll come back for him, unless they don't. Are they really friends? Or just looking out for the same Big Score? And the same applies to his ongoing friendship and occasional murderous rivalry with a competitor. Is she a colleague? A friend? Something more? Likely to slit his throat in the night to save herself or make a pile of gold? Or save him from a mob and walk away empty handed from the deal of a lifetime? Or all of these. Something Parker does well is lay out complex, grounded personalities, and not tell us too much, letting us try and peer at their motives and their truths through a half-darkened glass, as unsure of what they're doing as they are themselves.
This is Corax's swan song, and it's really rather well done. The stakes ramp up quickly, and the sense of being at the bottom of a hill and hearing the advancing rumble of an avalanche is an unnervingly apposite one. This is a story that'll pull you close, hammer a blade into your heart, then wish it hadn't had to do it while emptying your pockets. This is a smart story, an emotionally complex, very personal story about a man who may save or damn the world, while trying to find out who he is. And it's funny and bloody and sometimes so sharp you might cut yourself. If you've come this far with Saevus Corax, I can only say that you must see him through to his ending - it's worth it.
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