Guest review by Brigid from The Alliterates blog!
Summary:
House of Earth and Blood meets The Witch’s Heart in Rebecca Ross’s brilliant first adult fantasy, set on the magical Isle of Cadence where two childhood enemies must team up to discover why girls are going missing from their clan.
Jack Tamerlaine hasn’t stepped foot on Cadence in ten long years, content to study music at the mainland university. But when young girls start disappearing from the isle, Jack is summoned home to help find them. Enchantments run deep on Cadence: gossip is carried by the wind, plaid shawls can be as strong as armor, and the smallest cut of a knife can instill fathomless fear. The capricious spirits that rule the isle by fire, water, earth, and wind find mirth in the lives of the humans who call the land home. Adaira, heiress of the east and Jack’s childhood enemy, knows the spirits only answer to a bard’s music, and she hopes Jack can draw them forth by song, enticing them to return the missing girls.
As Jack and Adaira reluctantly work together, they find they make better allies than rivals as their partnership turns into something more. But with each passing song, it becomes apparent the trouble with the spirits is far more sinister than they first expected, and an older, darker secret about Cadence lurks beneath the surface, threatening to undo them all.
With unforgettable characters, a fast-paced plot, and compelling world building, A River Enchanted is a stirring story of duty, love, and the power of true partnership, and marks Rebecca Ross’s brilliant entry on the adult fantasy stage.
Review:
A River Enchanted has made me into a completely irrational fantasy reader. It makes me want to order it in bulk so that I can dedicate my entire shelf to it. This is, of course, assuming I have the money to do that. It’s sort of a joke amongst fantasy readers that we love a good soup and bread in a cozy Inn scene. Panera’s bread soup bowl has nothing on fantasy authors. Rebecca Ross caused such feelings in me that I don’t properly understand how to explain my enjoyment. The way Rebecca Ross writes makes me want to eat her sentences for a meal yet always be ravenous for more. In place of bread and soup is a Scottish misty isle lathered in foamy sea, medicinal herbs, and starlit night skies. Rebecca Ross turned me into a complete feral beast, eager for just one more taste.
Rebecca Ross’ unusual talent is her ability to make a difficult thing seem perfectly comfortable. A deep-set mystery unfolds from a chilled thing into a smoky, molten work of witchy mothers, heartbroken fathers, gold-touched legends, and bewitching romance on a cold Scottish inspired isle. If you’re anything like me, you’re a sucker for a homecoming story. I found this one especially enchanting and character rich.
In Cadence, myths, legends, magic, and lore consume the people. Beliefs on this coastal island people run deep. Enchantments are wherever they go. Whispers can carry on the wind for lovers to hear. A mother’s plaid for her son can be a shield in both strength and secrets. Faerie creatures, known as spirits, are made of the elements: water, fire, earth, and wind. When girls go missing, Jack, a bard, is brought back home, where he and the next Laird team up to solve it together. Adaira, their next Laird, hopes Jack can sing to the spirits for an answer.
What drew me into A River Enchanted most, and there’s quite a list, is that the author sticks to the bones of folklore. The way Rebecca Ross writes fey folk is how Holly Black writes them. It’s why it reminded me of an adult historical fantasy version of the nightmarish fey beauties in the Folk of the Air. There’s a sense of the rules and hierarchy of how the spirits function. When Jack sings, they cannot speak to the truth, as if their tongues are under the control of some higher being. That’s the stuff I love. Some look like the sea with blue fins and sharp teeth illuminated by the dark water. Other spirits of the land are transformed from trees to maidens with hair made of leaves. A River Enchanted adds a bit of this to its ancient Celtic legendary tone. It’s atmospheric without being a never-ending slog. There’s romanticism without feeling too much like perfume.
What I love most about Adaira, Jack, Torin, and Sidra is their vulnerabilities are laid open like a raw wound. I’m not interested in characters that follow a path I’d make, but ones showing me their obstacles and hurt. That’s part of what makes me feel for them. They’ve shown me the sharp edges of them, making me curious to know more. Some already hide their wounds, and others have yet to discover them. That’s precisely the rich development causing me to be ravenous for the second book.
I’m charmed by the relationships here. A more accurate description of what you’ll find in A River Enchanted is rivals-to-friends-to-lovers with some good sharp teeth to it. There’s a playful, sharp/soft tone to them that will warm even the coldest heart. Angular cheeked, sharp jawed Adaira and Jack, who often has flowers stuck in his hair, molded themselves to me on a level I didn’t expect.
Ross looks at things from a distance. Adaira’s role usually is something I’d read of a cishet man than a Laird’s daughter. She’s been made sharp edged but wants someone to love and appreciate her sharpness and softness in equal measure. She’s terrified of being vulnerable, especially in front of someone she likes. Jack, also, doesn’t typically fit the very gendered roles I’d grown up reading. He portrays what I’d describe as soft masculinity. They don’t read like something I’ve read. That’s what’s so magnetic about them.
A River Enchanted is a thrilling ride of alarming beauty and truthful wounds that will take years to peel off, as I’m bound to be obsessed with it for a long time.
