A Note: I originally wrote this review closer to The Warden‘s initial release, but, like many other reviews lost to the general malaise that kept me from finishing/editing/posting them, it grew digitally dusty in my now overstuffed Google Docs folders. Well no longer! With the sequel, Necrobane, now out (and the promise [lie] to myself to once again start posting more frequently), here it is!
Ever since I read The Locked Tomb series, I like to joke that Tamsyn Muir has ruined most other books for me with her prowess at adapting her writing style and voice to best suit her protagonist. That’s only partially true; but I’m far more certain that no one else writes queer necromancers like she does.
The Warden’s protagonist is no Harrowhark Nonagesimus, that’s for sure. Aelis – excuse me, Lady Aelis Cairistiona de Lenti in Tirraval – has the same self assured, overconfidence that comes with being extremely skilled in her field; but whereas Harrow has a playfully (though still often fully venomous) antagonistic relationship with the titular protagonist of Gideon the Ninth to make the bitchiness range more in the entertainingly combative to palpably angsty chemistry realm, Aelis just has the people she begrudgingly protects in this nowhere village – that she must keep at arm’s length in order to act objectively as judge, jury, and executioner if the need arises – to aim her ire at.
Fortunately Aelis’ often haughty personality isn’t off-putting enough for me to dislike her – I’m honestly convinced that Daniel M. Ford has Aelis constantly talking to herself, and I mean constantly, so that we would subconsciously feel like she wasn’t only saying horribly judgmental things like “we are no more colleagues than a gnat is colleague to an eagle simply because they both have wings” right to peoples’ faces, as Ford worked to make her more likable and enjoyable to be around. It’s not like it isn’t understandably frustrating to not be living the life she hoped for, instead surrounded by people who openly perform anti-curse gestures every time they see her (I am still not sure why this town even called for a Warden considering clearly no one wants her there); it’s just that her often no-nonsense abrasiveness was more than enough to make me question how anyone else would be unfazed by her assholery. Or not even just unfazed by it, but drawn to it, like a certain half elf – Ford very much did not want us to forget that she is a half elf – who maybe just has a type, but oh boy was I suspicious of her interest in the much younger Warden.
I’m not saying that I was convinced Maurenia and a super random, mysterious goat (that refuses to respect boundaries) were implanting dreams in Aelis’ mind so that she would be further drawn to the incomparably attractive auburn haired woman, I’m just saying there are those who have 95% anxiety nightmares (such as myself), and then there’s Aelis, who is seemingly always waking up from dreams about her crush that she’d desperately like to get back to. It’s suspicious, to say the least, and you better believe I kept waiting for a dramatic backstab as they frequently found themselves in forced situations together.
I will neither confirm nor deny whether that betrayal ever occurs; what I will say is that I kept waiting for some grand moment in the plot to happen. Like the town, much of this story feels rather small scale. What’s worse is that it feels incomplete, like we got 2/3rds of the way through a somewhat episodically structured season of TV, making what we have here a little less than satisfying in the “that’s it?” sort of way. It’s not that I didn’t enjoy what we did get of the plot, as Aelis works towards ingratiating herself to this town; it just felt a bit disjointed and unevenly paced as it sets up a second book.
One Last Note: To prep for Necrobane, I listened to the audiobook of The Warden and stand by everything I wrote in this review (and will add that I am now sick of the name Maurenia).
I also noticed a certain cover change, to which I will say: I know what you’re doing, and you better deliver.
Middle of the Row 