So this was a super refreshing read right from the very beginning. You know how lots and lots of fantasy books have some kind of dire warning (“Do Not Open The Forbidden Door”/ “Beware the Stone Circle at Solstice”/“Thou Shalt Not Use Anything Other than Genuine Maple Syrup on Pancakes”) and, well, it’s obvious from the very beginning that whatever was warned against is exactly what’s going to happen at some point? Ever get towards the end of a book and go, “Hmm, not many pages left, and the Solstice is coming up, and the climactic confrontation is going to happen at the Stone Circle, and they’re serving brunch sponsored by Aunt Jemima®. Gee, I wonder what’s going to happen?” All of you know what I’m talking about. Well, The Obsidian Tower opens with a poem, passed down through the protagonist's (Ryx) family for thousands of years, all about how nothing must ever unseal the mysterious obsidian door in the mysterious obsidian tower in the middle of their ancient and mysterious family castle.
Said door gets opened in the first 10 pages or so.
Like I said, that was a refreshing surprise. We get a book dealing with the consequences of violating the dire warning, rather than a build up to it that gets pretty obvious before the end.
And there’s another, similar angle on this kind of refreshing twist. Ryx comes from a family of life-magic wielders, except her magic got damaged by a childhood illness. Instead of being able to manipulate and use living things, she uncontrollably sucks the life out of them. Think Rogue from X-Men, but on plants and animals as well as people, gloves don’t help, and it’s more or less instantaneous. They’ve actually got one side of every corridor in the castle marked with warnings and reserved for Ryx’s use, all so she doesn’t bump into one of the servants by accident and kill them (again). But wait! It’s mentioned that a rival nation has magic that would bind her power, letting her, you know, get a hug once in a while, or walk on a lawn without leaving a trail of dead and withered grass. Except accepting that binding would mean putting herself under the authority of that rival nation, and that’s politically unacceptable.
And, once again, pretty early in the book Ryx says “F*** this, I’m done” and accepts the binding. Once again we get a book dealing with consequences rather than obvious foreshadowing.
Beyond all that, this was a delightful read. Ryx is a wonderfully compelling character to spend time with. She’s befriended by a group dedicated to investigating and preventing magical accidents, and they’re a wonderful bunch of companions and compelling in their own right. The gradual escalation of what, exactly, they’ve got to deal with now that the Door has been opened is handled beautifully, along with various bits of international intrigue going on at the same time. It’s all very well done. And the ending is not a cliffhanger (cliffhangers suck), but at the same time gives a very nice hook so I’m really looking forward to the sequel.
Last point I want to mention: for reasons I can’t quite articulate, this book reminded me quite a lot of Leigh Bardugo’s stuff. So it’s got that going for it too.