The Accidental Sorcerer, by K.E. Mills (Orbit, 2009)

For probationary Compliance Officer Gerald Dunwoody of the Ottosland Department of Thaumaturgy, it was supposed to be a routine safety inspection. You know, nose around a little, find out why the Stuttley’s Superior Staff factory hadn’t been submitting their paperwork properly, finish the report and go home. Nothing was supposed to go wrong.

One major accident and a blown-up factory later, Gerald Dunwoody’s out on his rear and out of a job. Desperate for work – not much call for a Third Grade wizard who can’t hold a job and who gets involved in scandals of this magnitude – he decides to get out of the country for a while. It seems the distant kingdom of New Ottosland is in need of a court wizard and they’re not terribly picky in the matter. So off Gerald goes, to a kingdom left behind by time and Tradition, situated in the middle of nowhere and nearly broke courtesy of economic sanctions brought on by their desert neighbors. At first, it seems like the perfect place to lay low and wait until things blow over at home, with the added bonus of making his resume look good.

Unfortunately, New Ottosland is anything but perfect. Princess Melissande is a frumpy, perpetually-stressed woman pressed into service as the Prime Minister. Prince Rupert is a blithering idiot who prefers butterflies to people. And King Lional the Forty-Third is ambitious, cunning, ruthless, and dangerous. Before he realizes just how deep he’s gotten himself, Gerald’s thoroughly entangled in Lional’s plans for a greater, grander New Ottosland, and getting out may just kill him. To complicate matters beyond any hope of redemption, it seems that Gerald’s accident at Stuttley’s has left him in possession of more power than he dreamed possible. Together with Melissande, his best friend (and magical genius) Monk Markham, and a rather obnoxious talking bird named Reg, Gerald Dunwoody will save New Ottosland … but at what price? And can one ever go back to a normal life after this sort of thing?

The Accidental Sorcerer is the first book in K.E. Mills’ (better known as Karen Miller) new trilogy, Rogue Agent, and it’s quite a change from her usual fantasy epics. It’s a pseudo-modern semi-comic fantasy set in a world greatly reminiscent of our own, circa the post-Industrial Revolution, British Colonial era. Mills takes enough liberties with the setting to make it hard to narrow it down precisely, but that’s the vibe I got from the book, with much of the action taking place in New Ottosland, a former colony situated in an oasis located in the middle of a desert. There’s evidence of some modern technology, such as cars and electricity, but magic is widespread and built into the very fabric of this world’s infrastructure. The end result is an immensely fascinating, notably different setting that’s full of story potential, and I definitely want to see it explored in more depth. There’s just not enough of this sort of thing, semi-historical industrialized fantasy, and Mills pulls it off quite nicely.

As mentioned above, this book is laced with humor, a dry sort of wit that sneaks around and insinuates itself when least expected. Occasionally, it shows up in the sheer absurdity of some situations, but mostly it manifests in the lightning-quick repartee of the main characters as they react to their surroundings and one another with a growing urgency and shrillness, while things collapse around them. Gerald and Reg have a great dynamic – he’s a bumbling sorcerer in over his head, she’s a several hundred year old talking bird with an opinion for every occasion – and together, they make a heck of a team. Someone better versed in British humor and sitcoms – the author’s a Canadian-born Australian – would likely be familiar with this sort of thing, but I’m finding it all quite new and extremely entertaining. Toss in the practical Princess Melissande and the perpetually-distracted Prince Rupert, and finish it all off with King Lional, a terrifyingly nasty piece of work, and you have a memorable cast of characters.

The plot itself moves along rather quickly – I found myself devouring this 500+ page book in two days – but it’s highly enjoyable. It catches you with an explosive beginning, and then moves on inexorably as Gerald gets wrapped up in things beyond his control and a few attendant mysteries, and then takes a real turn for the serious about two thirds of the way in. And by serious, I mean that things get ugly with regards to evil plots, and the abuse of Our Hero. And once things hit that point, there’s no stopping.

I was a little hit-and-miss when it came to Karen Miller’s other books – The Kingbreaker, Kingmaker duology was good but not great – but with this series, I’m absolutely hooked, and will be looking for the rest of the series as it comes out. For something that’s not just your average, ordinary, everyday epic American fantasy, you could do worse than to check out The Accidental Sorcerer.

Foundation, by Mercedes Lackey (DAW, 2008)

Mags – short for Magpie – has never known any life other than the harsh conditions of the gem mine where he, and other orphaned children and slaves, labors year-round, digging out ‘sparklies’ for the cruel owners. His only vague hope is surviving until he’s old enough to be turned loose on his own, something he doesn’t dare dream about too hard. Like so many others, he expects to die as he lived, in the depths of the mine. But then the Herald comes, a white-clad savior riding a blue-eyed, equally white horse, and he rescues Mags from the hellish existence. Another horse – a Companion – Chooses Mags, and just like that, the boy goes from gem-digger to Herald Trainee. And now, should he make it through his training, he’ll be one of the fabled Heralds of Valdemar, responsible for defending the kingdom and enforcing its laws.

But this is a time of transition for Valdemar, a time when the Heralds are changing over from the earlier mentor-and-student system to one of formal learning in the newly-built Collegium. Mags is an early example of the new breed of Herald, Chosen from the general populace without the education or benefits those better off are used to. He has to learn a great many things, and prove to the doubters and dissenters that he’s as good, and as worthy, as anyone else to earn his Whites and become a full-fledged Herald. He has to prove that one can learn to be a Herald by learning in a classroom, as part of a group, just as well as those who learned on the road under the direct tutelage of older Heralds. If he can do it, if he can become a Herald, any Trainee can. In the process, he’ll make friends with Bardic and Healer trainees, gain allies amongst the influential members of Court, and work to foil a band of foreign visitors intent upon sabotage and espionage. But the greatest challenges will be internal, as he overcomes a lifetime of neglect and slavery to discover just who he’s meant to be.

Foundation, the first book in the new Collegium Chronicles, details a previously-untold period of early Valdemarian history. It’s set not too long after the era of Herald Vanyel, as told in the Last Herald-Mage trilogy, and introduces readers to a whole new batch of characters. In many ways, this is much like Talia’s story in Arrows of the Queen, as a mostly-ignorant youth is brought into the Herald Collegium, and transformed into a proper Trainee. Everything is told from Mags’ viewpoint, so everything is new and interesting. Mags is a rather sympathetic character, with all of the right positive traits to become the perfect Herald and protagonist, and very few irredeemable negative traits to count against him. This occasionally becomes a hair tiresome, as I kept hoping he’d screw up once in a while, but that’s a small complaint against a rather likeable character.

Foundation is really a character-driven book, rather episodic in nature, as it details Mags’ life at the mine, on the road, and at the Collegium, following his growth as a person and the development of his relationships with the other characters. There’s very little external conflict beyond how he deals with some of the more antagonistic elements at Court, and even the climax of the book is relatively subtle. Lackey’s clearly going for something of a slow burn with this series, giving us time to get used to things before she sets too much on fire, I suspect. The emphasis is on intrigue and exploring the Collegium and how it’s affecting society and the world in general, and how the Heralds are coping as well. I rather enjoyed Foundation, but I think I’ll need to read future installments in the series before I can really tell just what sort of a story Mercedes Lackey is telling here. Is it about Mags and his friends, or about the Collegium itself? Will our hero become a legend, or is he just one of a thousand Heralds to live and die in service to the Kingdom? It’s too soon to tell, but at least we’re off to a enjoyable start. It’s always nice to get a new story set in Valdemar, which has long been one of my favorite fantasy series.

Clockwork Heart, by Dru Pagliassotti (Juno Books, 2008)

One of the greatest cities in the world is Ondinium, an industrialized city built on a mountain. Its people divided into several castes, its every function determined by the clockwork Great Engine and various lesser calculating machines, it’s a city unlike any other. Metal-winged icarii deliver messages, run errands, and occasionally function as search and rescue, able to travel between the sectors of the city and mingle with all the castes as their jobs require. One such icarus is Taya, a bold young woman who lives for the opportunity to fly, dreaming of a day when she might join the Diplmatic Corps and travel abroad.

But Ondinium is also a city of political intrigue, hidden agendas, industrial espionage and not-so-quiet rebellion. When sabotage strikes of the city’s wireferries, Taya flies to the rescue, an action which brings her to the attention of several of the exalted caste. Alister, one of the city’s ruling decaturs and a programmer for the Great Engine, seeks to woo her with words and courteous actions, while his brother Cristof, an outcaste misfit who gave up his mask and robe to serve as a simple clock repairman, barely cares if Taya lives or dies. Unfortunately, when another act of sabotage claims the lives of some of Ondinium’s greatest citizens, Taya and Cristof have to put aside their differences and work together to figure out what’s happening to their city. Who’s behind the bombings and murders and other acts of mayhem? Who stands to benefit, and who would dare interfere with the smooth functioning of the Great Engine itself? What person close to them can’t be trusted? They’ll risk their lives in every part of the city, from the slums of Slagside to the heart of the Great Engine, in order to avenge the deaths and protect Ondinium. But will it be enough?

Clockwork Heart is an absolutely fascinating, highly original, thoroughly memorable romantic fantasy, and one of the best books I’ve seen out of the Juno line to date. The clockwork city of Ondinium has a steampunkish retro-nifty vibe to it, and I was utterly intrigued by the way the setting was presented. A city on the verge of technological explosion, obsessed by clockwork gears and early analytical engines, like something Nikola Tesla and Charles Babbage might dream up after a heavy drinking session, where metal-winged couriers flit from one area to the next… what’s not to like? The imagery involved makes for brillians spectacle.

The characters themselves are believable, with Taya being satisfyingly bold and independent, defying expectations and conventions even as she defies gravity on a daily basis. The brothers Forlore – Alister and Cristof – make for interesting reading, and what at first seem to be fairly predictable attributes and actions for them soon turn out to be more than one would expect. In fact, neither one hews to the initial impressions or ultimate fate one might project for them, even after applying romantic conventions to the awkward triangle formed once Taya enters the mix. There were several pleasant and not-so-pleasant surprises to be found as the story progressed.

The plot itself has plenty of twists, from the predictable to the shocking, and it all comes together with a very nice payoff at the end. Taya and Cristof make a great team as they investigate the various threads that comprise the story’s primary mystery, and I was definitely pleased when I couldn’t predict just what was going to happen for most of the book. I’d have to say that Dru Pagliassotti really hit one out of the ballpark with Clockwork Heart, and I’ll keep my eyes open for more by her. Clockwork Heart works both as romantic and regular fantasy, with its true strength being the unique setting presented within its pages. I hope we’ll get to see more of this world.

Wild Cards: Inside Straight, edited by George R.R. Martin (Tor, 2008)

Sixty years ago, the world was transformed by the accidental release of a deadly alien virus over New York City, which forever altered the human potential. For most who contract Xenovirus Takis-A, also known as the wild card, all they can expect is a swift, painful, horrible death. Most of those who survive are horribly deformed, twisted by their subconscious and the virus’ power into hideous Jokers. Maybe one in a hundred comes out ahead, gifted with amazing superpowers, and able to claim the heady title of Ace. For six decades, Aces and Jokers have made their mark on society, for better and worse. They’ve been heroes and villains, gods and devils, prophets and terrorists, victims and saviors. And now, in the new millenium, a new generation of wild cards has come into its own. These are the children of a new era, the ones who have never known anything but a wild card world, the ones to whom the initial outbreak and the chaotic years that followed are dusty bits of history. Not only do they have no idea what the Al Jolson Story is, they barely know who the tragic Jetboy was. For this generation, Aces and Jokers are just another part of society.

And in 2008, a new reality show is about to make its grand debut: American Hero, in which 28 Aces compete to see who’ll be the next great hero and pop culture icon. From all corners of the country they’ve come, full of vim and vigor, fire and energy, ready to split into teams and compete in elimination challenges. They control fire and earth, plants and wind, insects and kinetic energy, can transform themselves or fly, can heal any wound or lift great weights, and they all have one thing in common: a desire to be the next American Hero.

Divided into four teams, one for each suit of cards, these superhuman men and women battle the tasks set by the network, and try to outwit one another. As the game is played, more and more of these would-be heroes and media stars will be eliminated, leaving only the clever, the bold, and the manipulative to fight it out for the title of American Hero.

Meanwhile, halfway across the world, the startling assassination of a major religious figure touches off chaos, and the beginnings of an Egyptian wild card genocide. Before long, some of the American Hero contestants, chafing at the artificiality of the show and driven to make a difference in the world, travel to Egypt in a daring, dangerous attempt to do some good. It’s here, in the face of real evil, with real death looming overhead, that they’ll be tested, weighed, and measured. With the entire world watching, who will become an American Hero, and who will become real heroes?

Inside Straight, like many of the Wild Cards books that came before it, is a mosiac novel: nine authors, each contributing stories, interstitial segments, and background material that all comes together to form one narrative. A strange cross between an anthology and a collaboration, it’s a complex piece of work, made all the more so for its ambitious plotline and sprawling cast of dozens. As such, it’s hard to pick apart the book by story or by author, not when each story builds upon the previous ones, and points of view shift and tone shift frequently. However, I can say this to start: it’s damned good. These authors have turned out a wide variety of new characters to populate the Wild Cards universe, many of them intriguing, all of them unusual. And while I confess to missing the “old school” Wild Cards, such as Popinjay, the Sleeper, Dr. Tachyon, Cap’n Trips, or my personal favorite, the Great and Powerful Turtle, I really hope we’ll see more of this new generation. Jonathan Hive, the journalist who can turn into a swarm of wasps, makes for a great viewpoint character, while The Amazing Bubbles, who converts kinetic energy into fat and then into explosive bubbles, is a sweet breath of fresh air.

Rustbelt, the iron-skinned Ace with a steam-shovel jaw, is wonderfully pragmatic and practical, and we can all recognize that drive to succeed that makes us occasionally do stupid things with Stuntman, who takes a licking and bounces back for more. It’s a shame there’s not more room, to give some of the other characters their time in the sun, since only a handful get fleshed out during the course of the story. For those who survive this story, let’s hope some of the others will take center stage next time.

The plot itself is as sprawling and thoughtful as usual, taking the idea of a world filled with superhumans, and following several thoughts to their logical conclusion. When the series first came out, reality shows were nowhere near as ubiqituous, but in the era of Survivor and American Idol (and Who Wants To Be A Superhero?) it makes perfect sense that in the Wild Cards universe, Aces would get a reality competition of their own. (I can see it now. . . . Who Wants To Marry An Ace? Extreme Makeover: Joker Edition. The Real World: Jokertown.) And of course, as usual, America’s fascination with pop culture blinds it to the all-too-real tragedies and atrocities and conflicts going on elsewhere in the world . . . that is, until a combination of events lure some of the would-be superstars into a situation where they can’t ignore it any longer. Watching as fake heroes become real heroes, fighting and suffering and overcoming their flaws along the way, that’s what makes for a great story.

The nine authors who had a hand in putting this story together all have their individual strengths and weaknesses, but overall, they mesh well together. Daniel Abraham’s interstitual segments, told from the viewpoint of Jonathan Hive (in part through Hive’s blog) help to maintain a sense of continuity and progression as the other stories leap back and forth between characters and events, showing the backstage and onscreen details of the American Hero competition. Carrie Vaughn looks at the story from the view point of Ana “Earth Witch” Cortez, a young woman still learning just what the limits of her powers might be. Michael Cassut introduces us to Jamal “Stuntman” Norwood, whose competitive spirit could win him the game, but cost him a lot of respect. Caroline Spector focuses upon things from the viewpoint of Michelle “The Amazing Bubbles” LaFleur, who struggles with her growing attraction to one of her teammates, while trying to hide a dark secret.

John Jos. Miller actually brings back an established character in the form of John Fortune, son of the famous Peregrine and infamous Fortunato and an Ace in his own right, until his powers burned out after nearly destroying the world. It’s John’s experiences which actually spark the journey from Hollywood to Egypt, as a decades-old plan finally comes to fruition. George R.R. Martin’s protagonist isn’t even part of the competition. Instead, Lohengrin is a German Ace who fancies himself a new form of crusading hero, a knight in gleaming armor. Ian Tregillis follows the story through the eyes of Wally “Rustbelt” Gunderson, who ultimately asks himself just what the right thing is, and what it means to be a hero. It’s his experiences which heavily influence the course of action taken by a number of characters throughout the last third of the book.

Proving that not all protagonists have to be heroes at heart, S. L. Farrell gives us Michael “Drummer Boy” Vogali, a Joker-Ace rock star who’s in it for the publicity and the women. His choices, however ill-considered and poorly played-out, nevertheless take him along a path of possible redemption. Melinda Snodgrass links the overall narrative together with several stories that shed further light upon the mechinations behind the scenes, utilizing several characters including the flamboyant, charming, and all too deadly stage magician, Noel Matthews, who knows far more than he’s letting on.

From the soundstages of Hollywood, to the blood-soaked sands of Egypt, Inside Straight provides a fresh look at the world of the Wild Cards, and I couldn’t be happier. I’ve loved this series since it first started, and this book strikes just the right balance between optimism and pragmatism. Yes, there’s a lot of violence and some characters do die, but on the whole, there’s a somewhat upbeat, hopeful feel to the story. Some of the later Wild Cards books really did seem to lay the doom, gloom, and bloodshed on pretty thick, but Inside Straight gives us some great characters who don’t necessarily get horribly abused for a change. I’d like to think that this book is the perfect jumping on point for a whole new generation of readers, and the perfect welcome back to long-time fans. I was thoroughly satisfied with this entry in the series, and I’ll be waiting eagerly for the next installment. The only thing that could have improved Inside Straight would have been a guest appearance by the Sleeper, but I guess he was taking a nap this time around.

Oh, and for those wanting more of the background, I’m pleased to say, there’s a pair of Web sites dedicated to the Wild Cards saga, and this book in particular, which actually feature character profiles, artwork, and in-character “confessionals” granting some insight into the less-featured contestants on the show. I love getting to see what some of the stranger characters look like. As the Web site updated over the course of several months, following the progression of the show, week by week, it took on a life of its own. Even with the “season” over and the Web site no longer updating, it’s still a fascinating resource and expansion to the book. This site focuses upon the series as a whole, and is quite interesting in its own right. Check them out.

Who Can Save Us Now? by Owen King and John McNally (Free Press, 2008)

When I sat down to try and describe this anthology, I found myself at a loss for words. I tried to be witty, but nothing was working. I tried to be ironic, but that failed. I even tried to be dry and boring, but nothing came to mind. In the end, I decided, I might as well go for honesty. Who Can Save Us Now? is a collection of superhero stories, as written by what some might call “literary” writers, and by that, I mean that very few of them are what I’d consider to be household names. Looking at a list of over 20 names, I recognize a mere handful, including Graham Joyce, Jennifer Weiner, and David Yoo. None of them are known for tackling science fiction and fantasy, nor for comic books, and yet here they are, offering up their takes on superheroes and supervillains, aiming to create modern myths for a much more ambiguous, conflicted era. And the results are … well, I’m not going to leave you hanging in suspense. The results are mixed, and unusual. For those looking for four-color action and adventure, or bigscreen excitement, prepare to be disappointed. For those looking for literary entertainment, you’ll find plenty here to consider. But let’s look at some of the stories, shall we?

Stephanie Harrell looks at one particular superhero through the eyes of an outsider, in “Girl Reporter.” Like the quantum particles in the Heisenberg Principle, her hero is changed through the act of being observed, changing to fit expectations and losing his original identity in the process. There’s clearly some sort of Superman/Lois Lane commentary going on here, but it comes off as a bit dry and disassociated to really connect with the reader.

Sam Weller’s “The Quick Stop 5″ is a tongue-in-cheek tale, one of the closest this book comes to actual superheroics, and even then it falls a little short. When five employees at a convenience store/truck stop in Iowa are bathed in iodisel fumes, they gain amazing abilities based upon the common items they just happened to be holding, which range from chewing tobacco to beef jerky to a Slushie to a box of condoms, to marijuana. Unlikely heroes, or corporate tools? Sadly, this is just their origin, and we may never know what adventures await them. It’s a safe bet you’ll never see these guys in a mainstream comic.

John McNally’s “Remains of the Night” is told from the viewpoint of one superhero’s butler. Unfortunately, that superhero is the Silverfish, one of the creepiest heroes around, and the butler may just be losing his grip on reality. In the end, I’m not sure how much of the story is real, and how much is hallucination. Is there even a Silverfish, and if so, how much is true? It’s an oddly unsettling psychological piece, where the hero’s influence is felt more than the hero himself.

In “The Pentecostal Home for Flying Children,” Will Clark postulates that one promiscuous superhero might have had a number of children, all inheriting his ability to fly. Will his freewheeling nature also hold true, or will their religious, strait-laced upbringing prove dominant? It’s a classic nature versus nurture, with one small town feeling the brunt of things. Again, interesting, but the superhero is merely a backdrop for the effect he’s had on the world.

“The Thirteenth Egg,” by Scott Snyder, is about a former soldier, returned home a changed man after witnessing an atomic explosion during World War 2. While he might be superpowered, he’s no hero, not by the way we commonly define such things.

In “Roe #5,” by Richard Dooling, one woman learns, many years after the fact, that someone may have kept her unborn baby after an abortion, subjecting it to experiments. How will she react to the possible existence of her unknown superhuman children? And what’s the point of revealing it now? Again, there’s a certain unsatisfying lack of superheroes in this story.

Noria Jablonski’s “The Snipper” follows one young man, the scion of a family of Sea Monkeys (remember those ads?) who spends time as a nursing home for superheroes. There’s a serious problem in town: someone’s cutting up superhero costumes, and everyone lives in fear of The Snipper… You know, this story’s too strange to be described in any more depth. It’s interesting, but a little too clever for my liking.

“My Interview With The Avenger,” by Tom Bissell, is intriguing because it comes the closest to examining what a real-life superhero would be like, and indeed invokes some of the people who’ve donned masks to patrol the streets in the real world. Down-to-earth, logical, grounded in reality, practical, it’s refreshing for its straightforwardness.

In Sean Doolittle’s “Mr. Big Deal,” we come as close as this anthology ever gets to action heroes, as he focuses upon a cop with the unique ability to negate the superhiuman gifts of other people. There’s a lot of backstory, internal mythology and setting hinted at here, and of all the stories in the collection, this is the one I’d like to see expanded the most.

David Yoo looks at people whose powers are less than impressive, barely enough to qualify for super in the first place, in “The Somewhat Super.” When a frustrated writer is invited to write a book about the members of a support group for minor-league superhumans, he discovers just how normal, and abnormal they are … and learns about the hazards facing them should they ever go public. One of the more interesting concepts in the collection, its downbeat ending leaves something to be desired.

David Haynes’ “The Lives of Ordinary Superheroes” examines the power one man can have to influence his surroundings, as he follows the career of a quiet, well-spoken man dedicated to improving the world one person at a time. But again, is he a hero, or just a man doing the right thing?

There are plenty of other stories in this book, ranging from the utterly bizarre (Jim Shephard’s “In Cretaceous Seas”) to those that just didn’t grab me in the first place (Jennifer Weiner’s “League of Justice (Philadelphia Division)) but in the end, I read enough to get a good feel for Who Can Save Us Now? Ultimately, I was disappointed by what I found here. While it’s billed as a collection of short stories about superheroes, it seems as though half the time, the heroes don’t even make more than a guest appearance, with the author choosing to examine some aspect of their exietence or influence upon the world, or to tell a story only remotely related to the basic theme. When superheroes do appear, more often than not they’re muddled, ineffective, neurotic messes, or joke characters. This honestly strikes me as superheroes as viewed through a Woody Allen lens. Marvel Comics may have perfected the hero with feet of clay, but these stories take it a few steps further.
If these are the heroes for the 21st century, then I’ll stick with the old-fashioned 20th century heroes anyday.

If you’re looking for stories about honest-to-goodness superheroes, I can think of a number of more appropriate books, and that’s without getting into the Marvel and DC licensed novels. Perry Moore’s Hero, for young adult. Jennifer Estep’s Karma Girl or Hot Mama, if you want romance. The John Varley-edited anthology, Superheroes, remains one of the best original collections of superhero fiction I’ve ever run across. David J. Schwartz’s Superpowers is an honestly-engaging look at would-be heroes. Vicki Pettersson’s Signs of the Zodiac series is urban fantasy meets comic books. The Wild Cards series has been doing amazing things with superpowered characters for decades. That’s just off the top of my head.

The stories in this collection are well-written, and quality work, definitely. I even enjoyed reading some of them, and there’re a few authors I may check out in more depth later on. But I can’t help but feel a little betrayed; I picked up this book expecting four-color action and adventure, and what I found was something very different. Literary, yes. Thoughtful, perhaps. But these weren’t the superheroes I was expecting. Who Can Save Us Now? Not these guys, they can’t even save themselves. For all that this is an interesting, well-done anthology, it just wasn’t what the cover copy suggested, and I’m going to have to shake my fist angrily as a result. Not recommended to those seeking traditional superheroes and villains.

Sword and Sorceress XXII , edited by Elisabeth Waters (Norilana Books, 2007)

In 1984, the first Sword and Sorceress anthology came out, edited by the notoriously feminist writer and editor, Marion Zimmer Bradley. Her goal: to breathe new life into the roles of females in the fantasy field, to encourage strong new female protagonists in a genre dominated by macho men in fur loincloths and wielding big swords. Okay, that might be a slight exaggeration, but the truth is, back then, there was a distinct imbalance between men and women in the sword and sorcery field, and by hook or crook, Marion Zimmer Bradley (MZB for short) was going to change that. And to the surprise of many, the series was a sleeper hit, with each new volume finding its place on the bookshelves. Like clockwork, a new volume came out each year, introducing dozens of strong female characters, and furthering the careers of a number of authors. The series helped bring writers such as Mercedes Lackey, Diana Paxson, Vera Nazarian, Jennifer Roberson, Elisabeth Waters and Josepha Sherman into greater prominence, and launched a few continuing series, such as Lackey’s Tarma and Kethry stories. Charles de Lint, Laurell K. Hamilton, Charles Saunders, Glen Cook, Emma Bull, and Pat Murphy were also occasional or frequent contributors. As the years passed, and the series grew more prestigious, the number of submissions grew exponentially, until MZB was forced to make the anthology invite-only; with dozens of qualified S&S alumni to draw upon, she couldn’t accept every willing contributor, after all. When Marion died, it looked like the end of the line for the series. She’d finished editing Volume 18, and there was enough stockpiled material to produce three more books after that. In 2004, with the release of Volume 21, the series seemed dead, once and for all. It had done its job though, right? After two decades, the field had seen a healthy increase in strong female characters and female-oriented sword and sorcery (albeit often with a romantic edge to it, as witnessed by the Luna line out of Harlequin).

Some people, S&S alumni and regular contributors, weren’t willing to accept the end of Sword and Sorceress. After some negotiation with Marion Zimmer Bradley’s estate, they obtained permission to ressurect the series. Edited by Elisabeth Waters (MZB’s former secretary) and published by Vera Nazarian’s fledging Norilana Books, Sword and Sorceress XXII (that’s 22 to you non-Latin speakers) came out, reviving the series after its three year hiatus. Waters hearkened back to an old S&S tradition, that of the open submission policy, allowing both veterans and newcomers alike to try their hand at contributing, and the result is a fascinatingly mixed bag.

I approached this volume with both anticipation and trepidation. Would this new volume live up to the standards of its predecessors? Could it capture the right sort of feel? Would it stand out in a market that’s changed considerably over the past few decades? I’m happy to say that Sword and Sorceress XXII is a worthy addition to the series. It’s not perfect, but it’s certainly a strong continuation of the legacy.

The lead story is by Esther Friesner, who deviates from her more humorous tendancies to tell a gripping story of a young woman who bucks all tradition to become a huntress for her tribe, only to come into conflict with her sister and many of her tribemates. “Edna’s Arrow” is a complex. beautiful story that looks at what happens when gender roles are challenged, and the gods make their wishes known.

Patricia Cirone’s “A Nose For Trouble” is an interesting, quick story in which a medium’s apprentice discovers an unusual ability, and gets caught up in a matter concerning ghosts, traitors, and the law. It’s a nice setup for a larger work, and I hope we’ll see her expand upon the setting, since this only serves as a brief taste of the character’s potential.

In Margaret L. Carter’s “Vanishing Village,” a pair of female sorcerers, currently on a job to track down a missing person for their employer, discover a mysterious village, hidden from the outside world. Inside, it’s a paradise, with everything provided for the residents as needed. The problem is, once in, no one is able to leave. When our heroes try to unravel the mystery, they discover a sorcerer unlike any other, and wrestle with a powerful ethical dilemna, one with a thought-provoking ending, Again, I’d love to see more of these characters, as they share an easy comraderie, and both their chemistry together and their general setup remind me pleasantly of Mercedes Lackey’s early Tarma and Kethry stories.

Kimberly L. Maughan makes her fiction debut with “The Ironwood Box,” in which three sisters, long-exiled from their home, must now face the challenge of returning, to fulfil their destinies and rescue their land from an usurper. But only two of the three sisters possess the traditional magic of their lineage. Can the third rise to the challenge and discover her own strengths? This was a pleasant, enjoyable story, and it’s a strong opening for Maughan. Hopefully, we’ll see more from her soon.

Jonathan Mueller’s “Black Ghost, Red Ghost” is a tale of intrigue and adventure, as a woman acting as a royal spy investigates a governer suspected of treason. Magic, action, and unavenged ghosts mix together to weave a strong, fast-paced story filled with twists and turns. At the risk of sounding repetitive, I wouldn’t mind seeing more of this setting and the main character.

Catherine Mintz’s “The Decisive Princess” is a short, sweet story. Unfortunately, it’s so short, that I can’t describe it to say why I like it, except that Mintz delivers an insightful twist upon Robert Stockton’s classic “The Lady, or the Tiger?” to satisfying effect.

In Marian Allen’s “Child of Ice, Child of Flame,” a wandering swordswoman discovers far more than she expected after killing a village’s champion in a duel. In this case, victory doesn’t necessarily lead to fortune and glory, especially when the village’s dirty secrets are revealed. Allen has an intriguing setup here, and this story really does feel like classic Sword and Sorceress.

In “Skin and Bones,” Heather Rose Jones explores the rules governing a bizarre form of magic known as skin-changing, as her hero investigates a mysterious community and discovers a frightening new aspect to the skinchanging concept. Definitely an interesting story, set in a world full of potential.

Michael Spence and Elisabeth Waters collaborate in “Crosswort Puzzle,” which is a clever mystery full of intrigue and twists. This is a prime example of Sword and Sorceress’ tendency to support continuing series, as the characters featured here appeared in at least one previous volume.

T. Borregard’s “Fairy Debt” uses old fairy tale traditions to weave a new and satisfying story, as a fairy goes to work undercover for a princess, in order to settle an old family debt. Is her limited magic enough to save the day when a dragon comes to visit? This is a pleasant, warm-hearted story with more than a little humor, and an upbeat tone, and I rather liked it.

Robert E. Vardeman’s “Tontine” captures a much darker mood, as the last survivor of a group of soldiers upholds a debt of honor, drinking to her friends’ memories. It’s a great concept, and a nicely atmospheric, moody execution.

The book finishes up with newcomer Sarah Dozier’s “The Menagerie,” a short, humorous tale of one sorceress and how she ended a war through creative magic. It’s a good start for Dozier, and I hope we’ll see more.

Other authors featured in this book are Catherine Soto, Deborah J. Ross, Dave Smeds and Alanna Morland, making for an even sixteen stories.

So, the verdict? Sword and Sorceress XXII is a worthy successor to the original run of the series, and hopefully, signals the start of a whole new dynasty. Waters has revitalized the series by once again bringing in a mixture of old and new blood, giving several new writers a chance and reintroducing us to some old favorites. There’s a wide range of stories, themes, moods and styles, enough to appeal to a variety of readers. I found enough stories in this collection to satisfy me, and there’s definitely enough to make it worth picking up. If you like strong female characters, and sword and sorcery, then you really can’t go wrong with this collection. I was quite pleasantly surprised by the end results, and it’s obvious that not only does Waters understand the concept and the purpose behind Sword and Sorceress (no surprise, given her relationship to the earlier volumes), but she’s able to help the series adjust to the times. The later books in the original run felt a little dated, even forgettable, but XXII feels more up-to-date, in tune with today’s sensibilities, and that’s important when trying to keep a venerable series such as this fresh and appealing. Sword and Sorceress XXII definitely seems like a successful restart of the franchise, and I’ll be looking forward to new installments in years to come.

Lace and Blade, by Deborah J. Ross (Norilana Books, 2008)

In Lace and Blade, editor Deborah J. Ross has brought together a number of stories which look to convey a sense of romantic fantasy, as inspired by authors like Oscar Wilde or Tanith Lee, or classic characters like Zorro, the Scarlet Pimpernel, and the Three Musketeers. I’d go a step further and suggest that books like Ellen Kushner and Delia Sherman’s Swordspoint or Madeleine Robins’ Point of Honour also help set the tone the editor was striving for here. Publisher Vera Nazarian goes into some detail about her original vision for the “lace and blade” version of fantasy, a “genre within a genre” that’s by turns genteel and elegant, polite and dangerous, with “duels of sharp wit and steel.” So how exactly does the final product compare to the lengthy and descriptive definition? Let’s see.

Madeleine Robins leads off with a charming tale, “Virtue and the Archangel.” When, after an ill-considered tryst, a young noblewoman loses a prized family necklace, she turns to Nyana meBarso, an old schoolmate turned fencing instructor … hardly the profession for wellbred young women. Nyana pursues the matter of the missing necklace with an unflappable attitude and a certain style. Robins, no stranger to this sort of setting, as seen in her noir Regencies, captures the mood and manners perfectly, and ends things with a most unpredictable moment. I’d absolutely love to see more of Nyana meBarso and her world, as Robins really has that knack for creating just the right atmosphere.

Robin Wayne Bailey goes for a more authentic historical setting with “Touch of Moonlight,” a tale which combines the dashing image of the highwayman with the feral nature of the werewolf. Lady Elena Sanchez y Vega is on her way to deliver a substantial ransom for her imprisoned brother, but a chance meeting with the legendary Ramon Estrada, a highwayman of note, leads to a new series of obstacles. But who’s robbing whom, and what will the moonlight reveal? This is an enjoyable story, with a few surprises, and some rather nice chemistry between Elena and Ramon.

Tanith Lee, one of the stated inspirations for this anthology, contributes “Lace-Maker, Blade-Taker, Grave-Breaker, Priest.” It’s a twisted, somewhat convoluted tale that starts off aboard a ship, where several of the passengers, the flamboyant Prince Mhikal Vendrei and the enigmatic soldier Zephyrin develop an almost immediate hatred of one another. Witness to their feud is Ymil, a writer. As the voyage progresses and the ship founders, the three men continue to deepen their assorted relationships to one another, until nothing short of a duel upon the beach will satisfy Prince Vendrei and Zephyrin. As their histories are revealed, the story of a woman spurned is revealed, tying them all together. But how will it all turn out? This is an interesting story, multi-layered and complex, beautifully-told with the various threads weaving around one another until all is made evident. This one may require multiple readings to properly understand.

Dave Smeds tells his story from a most unusual viewpoint, that of “The Beheaded Queen.” The titular character is something of an outsider, a permanent observer thanks to the curse that keeps her alive as nothing more than a head, the punishment for certain extramarital indiscretions. When her son becomes engaged to the princess of a neighboring kingdom, the queen is sent as part of the diplomatic mission to exchange royal “guests” (i.e. hostages) and ascertain the fitness of the princess for her son. How the queen relates to her son, her daughter, and her daughter-in-law to be, well, it speaks volumes of her inherent nobility and wisdom. This is a subtle, character-driven story that looks at the meaning of love and the need to occasionally sacrifice love for duty. It would be interesting to see how these characters develop afterwards.

In “The Topaz Desert,” Catherine Asaro partners an innocent young woman with magical powers, with a lonely, rough-hewn miner who dwells far from civilization. Opposites really do attract, as these two find salvation, comfort, and love in one another’s company, and become all the better for it. Asaro sets up an intriguing world, but only touches on a small part of it as she polishes this romance until it shines. Tanzi and Zebb makes for a rather cute couple, and Asaro applies a delicate touch with words and images to make their relationship feel real. While romantic and fantastic, this story doesn’t really seem to fit the theme quite as adeptly as some of the others do, but it’s still quite pleasant.

“Night Wind,” by Mary Rosenblum, is another story about a highwayman,and again, things are not what they seem to be. When Alvaro runs afoul of the infamous Night Wind, he discovers that the mysterious rider has a taste for justice and a knack for horses, talents which come in handy in their part of the world. However, Alvaro has more important things than a horse-stealing highwayman to think about; there’s his wife-to-be, whom he’s never met, to consider. Furthermore, Alvaro lacks the magic needed to keep his family’s lands, and the olives they cultivate, alive. Can he discover the secret of the Night Wind, and unlock his magic, in order to save his family’s livelihood? While this is a very nice tale, certain aspects of it are fairly blatantly telegraphed, and we don’t get to see nearly enough of certain pivotal characters. Nevertheless, it conveys the right feel of intrigue and adventure, very much drawing from the Zorro school of thought.

Sherwood Smith turns in what may be my second-favorite story, just behind Madeleine Robins’, in “The Rule of Engagement.” It all starts at the Blue Moon Masque, the last great social event of the summer season, when King Lexan chooses to dance with the lovely Ren, much to the dismay of the jealous Duchess Tarsa, all while the enigmatic Duke Cath Lassatar watches from afar. Before the night is out, a plan is executed, wherepon Cath kidnaps Ren for his own mysterious ends. What follows is a quiet, polite game of cat and mouse, where Ren practices a dignified, passive resistance, while Cath tries to win her over. Meanwhile, Tarsa realizes that something’s not right, even with her supposed rival out of the picture. Soon, it’s revealed that a deeper game is being played, a game of love and desire. Superbly-told, this story really exemplifies what I see as romantic fantasy, weaving together courtly manners and rules of behavior, confident people and elegant surroundings. It’s romantic without being a romance, a fantasy without too many of the more garish trappings. This is the sort of thing I’d love to see more of.

Other authors to be found in this collection include Diana L. Paxson and Chaz Brenchley. After examining this anthology, I’m happy to say that it succeeds in its mission statement, the stories tapping into the rich potential of the romantic fantasy genre, a contrast to the more brutal and straight-forward sword and sorcery to be found elsewhere. There’s a nice deal of variety, from Spanish highwaymen to courtly intrigue to unusual women, and it makes for a nice mixture of flavors. As with any anthology, not all stories will please all readers, but Lace and Blade has a lot going for it. I was quite pleasantly surprised, and hope further volumes, should any come out, will keep up the good work.

The Unnatural Inquirer, by Simon R. Green (Ace, 2007)

In the Nightside, the nasty, black heart of London where it’s always 3 a.m., there’s always a mystery that needs solving, an object that needs retrieving, or trouble that needs shooting. Perhaps that’s why John Taylor, the Nightside’s most infamous (and sometimes scariest) private detective has been getting a lot of work lately. Fresh off his latest batch of cases (including a brief visit to the H.P. Lovecraft Memorial Library, and a rather traumatic episode at the Nightside’s most dangerous amusement park), John gets called in by the Unnatural Inquirer, a tabloid/gossip rag with a penchant for sensationalism that goes above and beyond the norm. It seems someone has made a DVD, containing a television broadcast with actual evidence of the Afterlife, but before he could sell the contents to the Inquirer, he went missing. John Taylor’s new job? Find Pen Donovan and his Afterlife Recording, and bring them to the Inquirer, in exchange for a cool million pounds. For that much money, even John Taylor’s on the case.

Of course, everyone else wants the Recording as well, and some of them don’t play nice, or fair. And some consider shooting first to be playing nice. Oh, and Complication #1: John’s been saddled with a partner. A demon (literally) girl reporter, named Bettie Divine, who’s starting to feel real nice, cuddled up against his side when danger hits. And Complication #2: A new power struggle is brewing in the streets of the Nightside, and all four factions want John on their side, and aren’t willing to hear “no” or “sod off” as an answer. From one end of the Nightside to the other, John Taylor and Bettie Divine will help tear the city apart in order to find Pen Donovan and the Afterlife Recording, and Heaven/Hell/-Someone- help whoever gets in the way.

The Unnatural Inquirer is the eighth book in the Nightside series, but that’s okay. Like most of them, it’s fairly stand-alone, though it does pick up on a few elements and relationships from prior books. As always, Green writes with his usual hyper-octane manner, injecting your standard urban fantasy setup with a brilliant cocktail of widescreen adventure and psychedelic insanity, resulting in an over-the-top blend of adventure, dark humor, and strange magic. The characterization is stylized; no one’s ever going to accuse most of the Nightside’s inhabitants of being overly complex, and things often border on preposterous, but watching them skirt the edges of believability is, after all, half the fun of a series like this. John Taylor, the Collector, Shotgun Suzie, Walker, Bettie Divine, Alex Morrisey, they all have their memorable moments.

I thoroughly enjoyed this book, as I do all the ones in the series. It’s fast-paced, entertaining, and appealing, a guilty pleasure in the same way some action movies can be. My only complaint is that this one’s in hardback, first of the series to make its debut as such, and at a mere 246 pages, it may be asking a little much of the readers to drop that kind of money on such a quick read. Also, I’m not entirely sure the plot is quite strong enough to warrant a hardback debut; I’d almost have expected something grander in scale to celebrate the new format. Fans of Green and of the Nightside won’t be disappointed, though, for this book has everything you’ve come to expect from the series: a bizarre mystery, eccentric and dangerous characters, and yet more outrageously inventive locations to help flesh out the Nightside . . . as well as appearances from all the usual suspects and miscreants. With my quibbling about the hardback status aside, I highly recommend The Unnatural Inquirer.

The Man With The Golden Torc, by Simon R. Green (Roc, 2007)

Meet Eddie Drood. As a field agent for the powerful, enigmatic Drood family, he helps take care of problems that might otherwise threaten humanity. Demon possession? Werewolf attack? Rogue mage? You name it, if it’s evil and/or weird, chances are good a member of the Drood family, clad in their distinctive, invulnerable golden armor, will kick down the door and blast it to hell and back. Eddie’s one of their best agents, but he’s something of a malcontent as far as the family is concerned, actually choosing to live on his own, as opposed to with the rest of the huge family in their sprawling ancestral estate. Frankly, Eddie likes it that way. Just because he works for his family doesn’t mean he particularly likes or trusts them. And when an urgent summons brings him home, he finds out the hard way just what the Drood family does to those who don’t toe the party line, after they set him up for a suicide mission . . . which he survives against all odds.

Now, officially designated as a rogue, Eddie Drood is on the run from everything. His own family wants him dead, and they’ll stop at nothing to bring him down like a mad dog. Worse yet, there’s any number of other factions out there who would both jump at the chance to get some payback against the infamous Droods, and a chance to curry favor with that same family. You know it’s bad when the only person Eddie can trust is Molly Metcalf, a wild witch who’s tried to kill him numerous times over the years. Together, in order to figure out what’s really going on, Eddie and Molly will face off against any number of threats, before daring to challenge the Droods themselves. And in doing so, they’ll uncover a secret hidden for centuries, one which has allowed corruption to flourish at the heart of the Drood empire. Everything Eddie Drood knows is wrong, and now it’s time for some payback.

Take some James Bond, and throw in some of Green’s own Nightside, and mix liberally with the epic over-the-top action of his Deathstalker novels, and you’re somewhere in the right neighborhood for describing The Man With The Golden Torc . It has everything one comes to expect from Green’s work: distinctive characters, stylized ultra-violence, more mad ideas per page than most writers get in a lifetime, and a wild roller-coaster plot that doesn’t let up. His is a bizarre, exciting, neon-lit, blood-drenched world where all sorts of things go bump in the night, and where werewolves and vampires are positively mundane compared to Solomon Krieg, the Golem with the Atomic Brain, for instance. You’ve got your overly-powerful, utterly-terrifying, intensely-competent hero who faces off against overwhelming odds every day before breakfast. You have the antisocial, violent, capricious love interest. You have all sorts of throwaway strangeness that wanders across the page, such as Carnivores (sentient meat-eating cars), dragon-riding elves, and the Flying Saucerors (mages in flying saucers, no joke). And then you have the really weird characters, like Girl Flower (a plant elemental made up of rose petals and owl claws), Digger Browne (a ghoul with unsavory appetites), Subway Sue (who steals luck from those riding the subway) and Mr. Stab. Yes, Mr. Stab. In a rare naming misfire, Green tosses in an immortal serial killer who calls himself Mr. Stab. And for that, I mock him. Because Mr. Stab is silly compared to Green’s usual secondary characters. Luckily, that’s all balanced out by the extreme coolness of Solomon Krieg, the Golem with the Atomic Brain.

But before I get further distracted, let me get back on track. The Man With The Golden Torc is, in all ways, the quintessential Simon Green book, full of attitude and action, wholly encompassing the “wide-screen” concept. This book goes up to eleven, and then twelve, just to prove it can be done. If you’re at all familiar with Green’s stylistic quirks, you’ll probably have fun recognizing them in this book. What’s important, though, is that this is high-octane, no-holds-barred, epic urban fantasy, in which unstoppable golden-armored warriors do battle with ancient evils and one another, and in which just about anything can and does happen. This is the start of a whole new series, one which promises to further riff off the James Bond mythos in new and exciting ways. It’s all kinds of awesome, and I’m hooked for as long as Green feels like entertaining us in this fashion.