“Anything he has studied he can shape. Long ago he committed a vast number of creatures and their variations to memory. Some of the animals he can shape are extinct, but he has made no effort to restore them. To do so would be to court stagnation, and he is the Changer.”

Changer is, as best I can figure, the mythological version of the X-Files. Everything you know is true, yet, at the same time, everything you know is false. In the world of Changer, there exists a race known simply as the Athanor. Immortal, powerful, and unpredictable, these beings are responsible for virtually every myth and legend known to mankind.

Really. Name a mythological figure, be it god, demigod, monster, hero, villain, or trickster, and the chances are, it was one of the Athanor. They exist as the truth behind the legends, the reality behind the illusion, the puppeteers behind the history of the world. They exist alongside us, yet we’d never know they were there, or that they were for real.

What’s more, they take the notion of parallel myth into serious consideration. In what manner? Well, certain Athanor can’t help but influence civilization. And they’ll do it in multiple identities throughout the centuries. Remember a guy by the name of Arthur Pendragon, King of Britain? He’s here. Not only that, but in another lifetime, he was known as Gilgamesh, one of the first great hero-kings. He was also Rama, Akhenaton, and Frey. Note the pattern? In every life, a hero and king, but one doomed to watch his accomplishments die along with his mortal life.

Name another. Merlin? Once upon a time, he was known as Mimir, to whom Odin sacrificed an eye for wisdom. Enkidu, Gilgamesh’s companion? Ever by his friend’s side, as Bedivere, and Heimdall. Lilith? Of course. Nimue? Still kicking around. Anansi the Spider? You don’t need to look far. And then there’s the Athanor musician with a penchant for self-destructive behavior, who’s been known as Orpheus, and, believe it or not, Elvis.

Playing “spot the myth” in Changer is a great game, as is trying to figure out just which Athanor might have been which deity or legend in his or her time. As the common link between all of the Athanor is immortality, it’s not uncommon for many of them to adopt numerous identities throughout the centuries.

Let me continue to set up the premise for you. Athanor come in three varieties: the humanborn, those born as humans, who spend their lives in that shape, and who are the ones most likely to influence history and rule the Athanor; animalborn, which are just that — immortal creatures of land, sea, and air, who may or may not possess extraordinary intelligence or powers; and Theriomorphs, creatures of mythology, such as fauns, satyrs, and sasquatches.

They’re linked by a mysterious source of energy and life called Harmony, and they are governed by a set of rules called the Accord, which is primarily maintained and championed by none other than Arthur Pendragon. His wary ally is Duppy Jonah, the Leviathan, King of the Sea. It’s an uneasy peace, to say the least, as it insists that all Athanor must remain in hiding, keeping their unusual natures and powers secret from the rest of the world. This does not sit well with everyone, including the theriomorphs.

Into this mix, throw the Changer. Rumoured to be the oldest of them all, he’s the undisputed master of shapechanging, in a race where shapechangers are common. Sure, that’s all he can do with his powers, but none come close to matching him in his realm. After fifty years as a coyote, someone has just murdered all of his coyote family, save one lone pup. And for revenge and justice, he’ll re-assume human shape, reenter human society, and be drawn into the middle of a vast conspiracy that threatens to destroy the Accord, shatter the peace, and bring about another Ragnarok. (Yes, Ragnarok was real, and it was the last great war between the Athanor.)

Before the story’s done, the very nature of the Athanor will be rocked, secrets will be revealed, and the status quo will mythologically be challenged. See if you can guess the villain behind the conspiracy before his identity is revealed.

I’ll be blunt here. This book is one of the best I’ve read in ages. The premise is original, the set-up engrossing, and the follow-through never lets up. Lindskold is a master storyteller, and all of her considerable talent shines through in this epic tale. It’s one of those stories where I couldn’t quite let go when it was done, and my first thought was, “I want more!” Luckily, my sources tell me a sequel’s in the works. To give you another idea of how good this book is, it actually overcame my near-universal loathing of books written in the present tense.

True, keeping track of who’s who may be difficult at times, but Lindskold isn’t shy about reminding you about who’s who, and who -was- who. And while the plot meanders at times, it does a fantastic job of tying together the various threads before the end, while still leaving things open for further stories told in the world of the Athanor.

Changer is one book that stands out from the crowd. At World Fantasy Convention 1999, Charles de Lint and Terri Windling both made a point of recommending this book during a panel (to the somewhat embarrassed chagrin of Jane Lindskold). And you trust Terri Windling and Charles de Lint, right? I thought so.

I’m not hard to please. I love a good story as much as anyone. But because I read so many books, it really does take something special to make me want to point it out to everyone else. This is one of those books. It’s an urban fantasy with epic undertones, and you’ll never look at those dry old mythologies the same way again. The one real weakness of the book is that while it excels as a whole, I was hard-pressed to find any passages that stand out, as I could with The War for the Oaks.

But that’s minor quibbling, and shouldn’t put you off in the least. Find this book. Check it out. Put off buying the latest Star Trek novels, and give this one a chance instead. And I’ll give a cookie to anyone who can make a full list of the Athanor and their mythological identities. Chocolate chip, no less.